Voices of Despair by ford_of_bruinen

XIV

Broken bodies scatter the floor, a sickening reminder of the dwarves. Feet slipping in gore, I walk further into the heart of Menegroth. My niece rules here now with Lúthien’s son.

I hear steps behind me that pause, feeling for pulses, looking for life, there is none. Doriath has fallen. The taste of vomit burns in the back of my throat as I reach the rooms, they lie here, Elúchil and Nimloth, like bloodied ragdolls.

Galadriel’ kin lies dead beside my King and Queen, Kinslayers. Briefly I hate her before horror arises anew. Sweet merciful Elbereth where are the children?