“A love that can not forgive is not one you would wish to be in for eternity,” Olorin said softly, studying his hands. ”I hope for you that you will find one who can forgive you and love you for who you are, not who you were or might be.”
“You are wise as ever, Olorin, but it is not I who controls whom I love, and I cannot stop loving her even as she scorns me. I thought, perhaps, with time… But if anything it has grown stronger in our time apart.”
“I am no one’s lord, Finrod, least of all yours. It is Olorin, please. And as for time, I find that there is ever the ache of the love you once had in your chest, it can not be so different for Amarie. Have you spoken to her?”
“I am afraid I have not been able to pluck up the courage.” Finrod sighed, looking at the floor. “I smiled and waved at her from across the room on the day I was reunited with my family, expecting her to come and talk with me, but all she conceded was a cold look and then she left. I fear that she has not forgiven me for following Feanor, for she begged me not to go.”
To see all of you with someone who is dear to you and only to you. I must confess to missing that feeling, though it has brought me nothing but heartache in the past.
Tell me of the one you most love and why it is you love them. I am in the mood for romantic poetry.
Finrod bowed his head at the maia, smiling sadly. “I had someone once, my lord Olorin, though I doubt she still returns my affections after all these years spent apart.”
He fidgeted with a strand of his hair, trying not to smile too nostalgically at the thought of his youth before the crossing to Middle-earth. “Her name was Amarie, my lord, and she was as beautiful as a rose fresh bloomed, or a sapling in the light of the noonday sun.”