Worse Than Bad by wind rider

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Worse Than Bad


Worse Than Bad

 

The pearls and gems are scattered on the ground, red with blood. The tall stone buildings are wreathed in flames, feeding hungrily from the draperies and ornaments – and people. My new homeland is no longer recogniseable.

 

And the attackers look and feel even more horrible. It is as if the *(1)Black Hunter has supplanted the souls of the people familiar to me with monsters of his own – some slowly, like Fëanáro, and some abruptly like his sons and their cousins.

 

Rain drenches the blood-sodden earth, but it cannot quench the fires – any of them. (It is as if the *(2)Waters are weeping… But why do they not defend us? Are we not their beloved?)

 

I continue fighting as best as I can, defending a group of children hurriedly entrusted to my care when the battled broke. It is hard, so hard. Limbs and blood and water trip me, tears mingle with raindrops and blur my eyes – and Makalaurë is before me, grey eyes flashing like lightning backdropped by rainclouds, one I loved like a son…

 

Our blades clash, savagely, desperately.

 

No, I cannot, I cannot. Those grey eyes…

 

I falter.

 

Something is shoved into my chest.

 

I know no more.


Chapter End Notes

*(1) Melkor’s name among the first Elves living in Cuivienen in Rey-verse.

*(2) Maiar of the Waters, Ulmo’s people. Osse is said to love the Teleri; but why not his brethren?


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