Post by rockydublin on Jul 24, 2020 22:24:07 GMT -5
I Sit Beside the Fire and Think by JRR Tolkien, sung by Newtarch
(I Sit Beside the Fire and Think by JRR Tolkien, sung by: Newtarch, the tone will definitely be different given Newt is not Bilbo. And this isn’t canon, I just wanted everyone to get real sad for a hot minute because I’m a monster sometimes, I apologize in advance. I edited this out a bit as far as Newt's name everything else I've kept the same since I'm proud of these and I'll be posting the others on here as well. As always, I recommend listening to Clamavi de Profundis' rendition of the song.)
Newtarch could feel the warmth that radiated around him. He had lead a good life, hopefully his clan made it out, there was only so much cats could do amidst panic. He laid down, resting his head in his paws.
“I sit beside the fire and think of all that I have seen, of meadow-flowers and butterflies in summers that have been; Of yellow leaves and gossamer in autumns that there were, with morning mist and silver sun and wind upon my hair.” A small wave of sadness hit Newtarch as he thought of his mate. Red was safe, yet here and now it was danger, it was scary. Everything he’d grown to love about the color he hated now. Still, if StarClan wished to claim him this way, he would continue to sing, perhaps his love, his family would hear him.
“I sit beside the fire and think of how the world will be when winter comes without a spring that I shall ever see. For still there are so many things that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring there is a different green.” He coughed as smoke filled his lungs. Even though he did not have sight, his eyes teared up and burned as the smoke surrounded him. He felt himself growing tired, it was hard to stay awake.
“I sit beside the fire and think of people long ago and people who will see a world
that I shall never know. But all the while I sit and think of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet and voices at the door.” The thought of his clan being safe, it gave him comfort. “I will be with you soon Windy, I love you.” Newtarch could no longer keep his eyes open, could no longer stay awake. His eyes shut as sleep claimed him. He never felt the flames eat away at his pelt. StarClan at least granted him a painless passing.
(Sorry if this is a massive downer, I thought of this early in the morning before falling asleep)
(I Sit Beside the Fire and Think by JRR Tolkien, sung by: Newtarch, the tone will definitely be different given Newt is not Bilbo. And this isn’t canon, I just wanted everyone to get real sad for a hot minute because I’m a monster sometimes, I apologize in advance. I edited this out a bit as far as Newt's name everything else I've kept the same since I'm proud of these and I'll be posting the others on here as well. As always, I recommend listening to Clamavi de Profundis' rendition of the song.)
Newtarch could feel the warmth that radiated around him. He had lead a good life, hopefully his clan made it out, there was only so much cats could do amidst panic. He laid down, resting his head in his paws.
“I sit beside the fire and think of all that I have seen, of meadow-flowers and butterflies in summers that have been; Of yellow leaves and gossamer in autumns that there were, with morning mist and silver sun and wind upon my hair.” A small wave of sadness hit Newtarch as he thought of his mate. Red was safe, yet here and now it was danger, it was scary. Everything he’d grown to love about the color he hated now. Still, if StarClan wished to claim him this way, he would continue to sing, perhaps his love, his family would hear him.
“I sit beside the fire and think of how the world will be when winter comes without a spring that I shall ever see. For still there are so many things that I have never seen:
in every wood in every spring there is a different green.” He coughed as smoke filled his lungs. Even though he did not have sight, his eyes teared up and burned as the smoke surrounded him. He felt himself growing tired, it was hard to stay awake.
“I sit beside the fire and think of people long ago and people who will see a world
that I shall never know. But all the while I sit and think of times there were before,
I listen for returning feet and voices at the door.” The thought of his clan being safe, it gave him comfort. “I will be with you soon Windy, I love you.” Newtarch could no longer keep his eyes open, could no longer stay awake. His eyes shut as sleep claimed him. He never felt the flames eat away at his pelt. StarClan at least granted him a painless passing.
(Sorry if this is a massive downer, I thought of this early in the morning before falling asleep)