Work Text:
Of home, and hearth, and home again—
Will they ever know you did it for them?
The far beginning, the childhood dream—
The memories never were what they seem.
Loose pages that you've left behind,
Blotted and torn to keep your mind.
Will they understand what it took to get through?
Will the tales return—if you don’t come too?
A quiet flicker, a breath of wind—
Less will be heard of a halfling’s end.
If release comes too soon, will they know what it's for?
Or only reprove that you stepped out your door?
Will they lose all that’s dear if you don’t succeed?
Will darkness smother, will children bleed?
And if you prevail—will they know what was risked?
What came close to destruction, what could have been missed?
Children in circles and trees in a glade,
Apples and ale and dirt on a spade.
Roses and dancing and ink with a pen—
One step more, think of them, and then step again.
Remember the fight is all in your mind.
Remember your body is naught but a rind,
A vessel, a shell, made to carry the ring.
They say you can rest if you do this one thing.
Forget all the pain, the burns and the sores,
Forget about hobbit-friends wandering moors,
Just get to the fire, and then you can burn.
Just get to the end, and End’s what you’ve earned.
Just finish your task, and they’ll be alright.
You hold in your hands every dream, every fight.
Each thought and each hope is strewn in your way.
Your neck, though it burns, is a small price to pay.
Just do it for them, though they’ll never know.
The memories of cousins, in sun or in snow,
In fields or in woodlands, they stuck to your side.
What if—when it comes—they won’t know why you died?
If you don’t return, will they know what it cost?
If you don’t come back, will they know why you lost?
How heavy each step that you took toward your death;
Will they know thoughts of them were all you had left?
And as the end nears, as your goal burns your feet,
The fear that you’ve buried gets harder to keep.
As thoughts start to bleed and your star is eclipsed,
Your feet ache to turn but your pathway is fixed—
One question lies hidden beneath all the rest,
Deep-dug and smothered, at root in your chest—
Swallowed for fear it'll tear you in two—
(If you do return—)
(Will they recognize you?)