Empty Streets by StarSpray

Empty Streets

Fingon hadn’t believed the news when it had come at last to Hithlum. He had not heard from either Turgon or Aredhel in some time, but Aredhel had never been a great letter writer, and he had thought Turgon simply busy with his own affairs in Nevrast.

Well, Turgon had been busy with something. Fingon rode through the streets of Nevrast, and felt a chill go down his spine at the stillness. Only the sound of the waves on the shore filled the silence. The buildings stood empty and cold, their darkened windows like eyes staring down accusing at him. How had the whole of a city simply vanished without word or sign? They had not been gone long, for all was still in good repair in the city.

Fingon came at last Turgon’s palace, with its view of the sea and the harbor. No ships were at the docks. No banners flew from the parapets. No Idril came running out to greet him, all smiles and golden hair braided with violets and forget-me-nots. From the walls he could watch the waves crash against the shore below and imagine the slow wearing away of time and water and wind against the stones upon which he stood, until they crumbled away into nothing, unless someone came back to repair them.

A lone swan flew over his head, silent and pale in the afternoon sun. Fingon gazed up at the empty windows of the palace, but he did not enter. He did not want to hear his footsteps echo alone through the halls, or to call for his brother and receive only his own voice echoing back as answer. “Brother, Sister, where did you go?” he asked the empty city. The wind snatched his voice away. The only answer was the plaintive and lonely cry of a gull in the distance.