Disclaimer: Tolkien would have it so – Me? I’d have let her catch the boat!
Was that his voice? That slow, rich tone that caressed her, made her shiver with delight when he whispered sweet, honeyed words in her ear – no.
Was that his breath? Soft and warm as evening’s breeze over her bare shoulder in summer; tantalizingly seductive over her bare thighs and belly on winter nights when they sprawled, abandoned to lust, before blazing fires… no, never more.
Now the wind was the only sighing breath she would hear. Now his voice lived only in her memory – and that was not enough.
She lay down under the golden trees... and heard them weep.