Of Numenor That Was by Marta

Fanwork Information

Summary:

The story of the last sacrifice offered to Morgoth by Numenor, told in four true drabbles from the perspectives of four OCs.

 

Major Characters: Original Character(s)

Major Relationships:

Artwork Type: No artwork type listed

Genre: Drama, Fixed-Length Ficlet

Challenges:

Rating: Teens

Warnings: Character Death, Mature Themes, Violence (Moderate)

Chapters: 4 Word Count: 402
Posted on 1 August 2008 Updated on 1 August 2008

This fanwork is complete.

Part the First

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Menelgund dove through the air, willing himself not to cough at the fumes. He was the eyes, the nose, the ears of Manwë Súlimo himself! How could one so exalted as he retch like a common gull?

Yet the smoke carried more than just the smell of brine and ash. That he had smelled in Valinór, when the Elf-children made their festival bonfires. This was different. He dared a deeper breath and a putrid scent assailed him: singed hair and scorched man-flesh.

Menelgund climbed high, through the clouds, far above his brothers. Anything to get far from that awful odor.

Part the Second

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She would have screamed, if she could. The king's men had given her a drink earlier, to dull the pain they'd claimed, and now her tongue lay useless against her cheek.

She was going to die; Gimilbêth felt the flames lick at her calves. Yet the priests still spoke, exalting the one true God of Men who gave them life eternal. Surely they had not started yet?

A spark caught her eye, and her soul wailed within her. So loud was its cry, she marvelled that none could hear. And then, as the Wave crashed overhead, the Flames took her.

Part the Third

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Sakalzôr kneeled behind the altar, blinking furiously. He knew Annatar's teachings well: how, when the One returned even the dead would awake, and how those whose blood had slaked His thirst would stand at His side when Taniquetil crumbled. Sakalzôr believed those ancient truths completely; truly, his sister would join the One's harem.

So why did his eyes mist? 'Twas a good death. Sakalzôr swallowed hard and, as the officiant spoke the final words, thrust his brand into the coalbed he had lain Gimilbêth on.

Then he heard, overhead, a deafening roar. And Sakalzôr looked up, and saw, and wept.

Part the Fourth

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Nénheri wandered among the wreckage. Many of Ulmo's handmaidens were content to guide the elf-ships to the hidden paths, but she had always been an adventurer. What secrets lay buried there?

She swelled the ocean's current to wash aside the crumbled entryway, and she entered. Even in decay the temple was grand; how beautiful it must have seemed at its height!

But then she saw the blackened bones, and of a sudden the gold looked garish and mottled. She gathered the girl in her arms and left to find her lord. No child of the One would be left here.


Comments

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Marta, this collection is chilling and bittersweet at once. You are indeed a master drabbler: you had the hair standing up on my arms with just 100 words! (It would have taken me, oh, at least 1000! Times four! :^D)

Thank you for posting this here. I'm afraid that I'm falling for my own challenge and there are Second Age bunnies all around my feet right now. And, yes, I blame you a little bit for this. ;) Maybe if I hold really still, they won't realize I'm here ...