Chosen

Alone he sat and mourned his kin,
A slave escaped, his people scattered.
No life, no purpose but to win
Revenge on evil, 'twas all that mattered.

Grey elves spoke of a hidden king.
His heart was stirred by the Elvish name
To seek that kingdom in his wandering;
He wondered why such desire came.

Tuor did not know he heard the call
Of Ulmo, who sought to aid elf and man;
Though long the years since Feanor's fall,
The time was right for Ulmo's plan.

Harp in hand, Tuor did play;
His sorrow eased, though not at rest.
The stream flowed out to show the way,
He read the sign and headed west.

The land of Turgon now he sought,
The Lord of Waters called to Tuor.
Stream's flow followed, finally brought
Him to lands he had never trod before.

The sea bird's cry, a mournful sound
That filled his heart with keen desire;
Following, the brink of Earth he found,
Above the Sea, the sun like fire.

Endless water beyond the shore,
Boundless yearning filled his breast;
Never was seen by man before
And never again would he know rest.

At last he came to an empty hall,
Forsaken by the Elven king.
There he found armor laid by the wall,
Decorated with white swan wing.

Shield and hauberk with sunlight lit,
Sword and helm were ready there.
He donned the armor, perfect fit.
"Upon myself whatsoever doom they bear."

Down to the sea-strand then he went,
Out at sea a storm's black cloud
Approached with speed, Valar-sent;
Before their wrath his head he bowed.

As he watched sun's smoky fire,
Great wave rolled towards the shore.
Ulmo walked, braved Valar's ire
To speak with mortal man Tuor.

Tuor was chosen a message to bring,
The Lord of Water's plan of old,
Finding Turgon, Elven king,
A warning of doom would to him be told.

Tuor, though mortal, chosen one,
Elvish wife would one day take,
Destined to father a special son
Who before the Valar a plea would make.

Bright Earendil, the son of Tuor,
One day to sail on journey long,
Pleading the cause of Middle-Earth at war,
His deeds forever lifted in song.

Tuor his yearning never forgot;
Ever desiring the sea's soft sigh,
To the West he sailed, the waves they brought
Him; alone of mortals he would not die.

- Linaewen