A little snippet of Past Progressive please?!
@valar-did-me-wrong Of course! Thanks for asking. :-)
It's just a draft, so it's very basic, and it will have to be polished and possibly (certainly) re-written several times.
I can share the basic idea of the story, too, if you want to. :-)
---
She had feared rejection when she reached out for his mind, but he let her in. What she sensed was a tired, almost serene resignation, and it made her heart ache much more than if what she had found was hatred.
(It was a lie, beloved. All of it… What we had was true. My love was true.)
Time was her enemy, so she wasted no words as she unravelled the web of deception they had been trapped in.
(Forgive me, please.)
(It is I who should ask for forgiveness. I should have known.)
She cried, then, at the sheer absurdity of those words, and even more at the knowledge that soon he would be forever out of her reach, for the Gift of Men was not hers, and she was bound to this world until the end of days.
He must have sensed it, and, stubborn as ever, insisted that they would meet again, no matter how long it might take.
(Do you truly believe that possible, Hallane?)
(Hope, meldonya, is the strongest of allies. Weren't those your very words, all those years ago? Lúthien was given that grace. So can we.)
Could they indeed?
(Have faith, Lossetári.)
She knew he was smiling. It was then that the darkness tore him away.
---
And this is a draft of the ending. Takes place years after the first segment.
--
Her heart was in turmoil as she faced the West at the prow of the ship, striving to chase away the bitter enemy that was doubt. Have faith, Lossetári. She clinged to those words, and found comfort in their embrace.
“No matter how long it might take,” she whispered.
Little did it matter that no songs were ever made about her true fate, for her story was but hers to sing.













