Voices of Despair by ford_of_bruinen

XIX

I wake up screaming, yet another nightmare, another dream of darkness and of death.

Tales of Alqualondë travelled, with the Teleri and with the Returned. I wonder sometimes, my beloved, if you stood aside, defended or attacked. I questioned, but no one that I asked has words to tell.

Your father rules the city on the hilltop, quiet buildings echoing grief and shame. My feet has often touched the streets of marble, entered through the gate and then gone home. I have no words for broken Kings or fathers’, I have no peace to offer him and none for me.