Loss by avi17

Loss

Turgon

My brother is gone.

The deafening clashes and shrieks of battle dim and blur together in my ears as I stand, rooted, in the frenzy, staring at the swirling clouds of flame and dust where his banner fell.  Through the haze of my sorrow, it hits me like a kick to the stomach that with his passing, and no heir to his line, I have in the space of a few seconds become the High King of our people.  I am the last of Nolofinwë’s children, and I am alone, as is my beloved Gondolin; and we both will be discovered and destroyed as surely as will all the realms of the Eldar in Middle Earth.

I am pulled from my stupor by the captains of Men, and must abandon my fatalistic thoughts for action, though the overwhelming grief for my father’s house refuses to loosen its clutches so easily.  I fight on because I can do nothing else, and my eyes sting, though from dust or tears I do not know.

As I order a full retreat, my voice breaks and I curse the Fëanorian traitors who marshaled us to this massacre for failing to reach my brother in time, for failing to save him.  But for that, I also curse myself.  

Maglor

My brother is gone.

Perhaps there is at last peace for him in the fiery embrace of the earth, but there is none for me.  I have given the much desired, much accursed Silmaril to the ocean, and I am at last free of the unendurable pain of it on my skin.  However, it has left behind it a realization of an emptiness in my fëa for which Arda no longer contains a cure.  It torments me as much in its absence as its presence, for its loss means the ultimate ending of the purpose that had for so long driven us, and drove all but me to death.  The waves lap at my ankles and I pray that the sea will swallow me, but it grants me no such mercy.  It is just as well, for I deserve none.

Faced with a despair that threatens to break me utterly, I turn to the only thing I have left.  I imagine my shaking fingers touch harp strings, and I drown myself in memories of my brother, and of a family, a cause, and a life that are no more.

My feet carry me aimlessly over endless sands, as I draw a single breath that feels like my last, and begin to sing.

Chapter End Notes

*Note- I always go by the version of the canon that has Gil-Galad as the son of Orodreth, which is why Turgon mentions Fingon having no heir.

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