Harvester of Sorrow by Robinka

| | |

Fanwork Notes

My prompt: Things We Never Said, First Meetings, and Lost Letters.

Fanwork Information

Summary:

For the International Day of Fanworks: an orc and his grim job.

Major Characters: Aegnor, Original Character(s)

Major Relationships:

Genre: Drama

Challenges: First Meetings, International Fanworks Day, Lost Letters, Things We Never Said

Rating: Adult

Warnings: Character Death, Violence (Graphic)

Chapters: 1 Word Count: 506
Posted on 18 February 2015 Updated on 18 February 2015

This fanwork is complete.

Harvester of Sorrow

Read Harvester of Sorrow

Shaghkar was good. Obedient. Killed a few white-faces. Not many. Was his first battle, after all. It pleased the captain. He rewarded Shaghkar. “Go search ‘em!” Captain roared. He grinned, pointing at the dead.

Shaghkar ran. Soon, he had his hands full. White-face’d stuffed goods inside his jerkin. Screeching with joy, he rolled over another corpse.

This white-face had fallen prone on the ground. Looked up with his bright eyes. Head thrown back. His helmet ripped away. Shinin' yellow hair fell all over the place. Shaghkar bent over. Glanced at the white-face up close.

White-face's lips trembled. Shaghkar noticed. Leaned forward. Grinned broadly.

He’d never seen a white-face up close ‘til now. His own called ‘em “elves”. Shaghkar shrugged. Took a deep sniff. Smelled blood. Fresh and tasty. Saliva pooled in his mouth.

White-face lived. Yet. Shaghkar ran his tongue along his teeth.

Stormy eyes lost their haze. Focused on Shaghkar. Sent him threat. Flame. Anguish.

Shaghkar's head tilted. Not afraid. The white-face's teeth clenched. His skin sweaty and bloody. Shaghkar didn’t care. He looked down at white-face. Belly slashed. Guts spilling out. The white-face's hands tried and failed to tuck ‘em in.

Shaghkar looked around quick-like.

The white-face's sword far too long for Shaghkar. Pity. Shiny. The dagger... Shaghkar pulled it out of the scabbard. Looked at it close up.

“Please...”

Shaghkar hid the dagger behind him. Shook his head. White-face not dangerous. At all.

White-face mumbled somethin’. Shaghkar understood naught. But, he knew in his gut: White-face’s beggin’ for death. Shaghkar looked at the dagger in his hand. Fisted his fingers around the hilt.

Shaghkar was good. Obedient. He’d killed a few white-faces. Butchered ‘em all right. Shaghkar smacked his tongue.

Swift, he shoved the dagger. Into the white-face's chest. To the hilt. Shaghkar howled.

White-face oh'ed. Gurgled. Arched and stiffened.

Shaghkar tore the dagger out. Tucked it in his belt. Blood dizzied him. His hands pawed at the white-face. Searchin’ for more shiny stuff. Shaghkar rolled ‘em over. Jerked ‘em back again. Mad! He found nothing. Only a small, leather sack.

Shaghkar wolfed at it. Tore off a chunk. Chewed it and spat it out. He rolled out the rest. Looked at it. Shook it. Smelled it. Turned it upside down. What was it?

“Piece of shit!”

Shaghkar threw it away. Left the dead white-face to rot.

***

If the Orc could read, he would have discovered a letter from the fallen Elda to his ladylove. The letter that had never reached its recipient. Now, when his spirit flew beyond the boundaries of Arda, the Orc left it to crumble to pieces beside his tormented body. The parchment was torn, bloodied and soiled. No one would ever read the whole of it, but if you dared look closely, passer-by, you might find the last clear fragment:

never told you. I now regret it. You must think me a coward.
saw you at the lake. I love you. I forever will.

Yours beyond time and place,
Aikanáro


Chapter End Notes

The title is borrowed from Metallica.

Aikanáro = Aegnor

A lifetime supply of thank-yous goes to Oshun for her help, beta and great suggestions. Thank you!


Comments

The Silmarillion Writers' Guild is more than just an archive--we are a community! If you enjoy a fanwork or enjoy a creator's work, please consider letting them know in a comment.


Gah, the second time I am reading this and the end still gives me that blow, the thought of what if Aegnor survived. Would he really..?

And this line sums up the battle of the Sudden Flame so well:

Stormy eyes lost their haze. Focused on Shaghkar. Sent him threat. Flame. Anguish.


But you know, as a SWG challenge writer you often wonder how people will react to what you come up with, but to see these combined and the outcome of it: just stunning, so well done Binks!

My inner, hopeless romantic tells me that Aegnor would... But, eh... This was such a sudden idea that wouldn't let me go until I wrote it down. I was afraid though it would be too, you know, violent, gory, and stuff. I'm really happy that it works for you! Thank you once again for so kind words. It feels like a birthday to me :D

Binka! This is a staggeringly magnificient story told is so few words. I am thrilled that I was able to assist you with the Beta. (I recall grumbling to you that it is a hard genre to write well--I still believe that is true--but you triumphed and made it look easy.) It's a fine line to draw, to take the genre of dark fic, while being relentless in your realism, you manage to strip it of any sense of cynicism and make your readers cry. So harsh is this story in its reflection of this grim reality while remaining such a warm and human piece. OMG! The ending is a crescendo of tragedy and romanticism communicated in this so unexpected story form.

It's beautiful. The original canon manages to fill a huge canvass while barely mentioning these characters--the younger sons of the House of Finarfin, the love story told in the “Athrabeth Finrod ah Andreth,” and the intriguing question underlying it all for me is various ties and mentions of possible connections between the Finarfinwean princes and the sons of Feanor, geographically in Middle-earth and dating back to a possible personal connection Valinor.

You drawn upon the geekish reader, who is aware of all of these threads, and play their hearts strings so well, and yet meanwhile grab the imagination of other readers who do not necessarily know very much at all about the circumstances or the characters.

I happen to have quite my own reasons for being drawn to Aikanaro and Andreth (I do love a grand and tragic love story!). And I adore them as individuals--his role as one of the valorous defenders along the first lines of the barrier between Morgoth and the peoples to the south and Andreth as an outstanding female leader of her people, the wise-woman and ntellect who easily holds her own in an argument with Finrod Felagund (holds her own, if not triumphs!).

Beautiful use of canon. Hope to see more from you in the future.

Oh my Eru, I don't even know what to say. Since I got your review yesterday, been wondering how to thank you, and I still don't know. Especially that I wasn't really sure about this story. It was a sudden idea, but maybe those are the best in my case ;) Not those carefully planned and thought out. I'm beyond happy and grateful for all your help and support in the process of writing "Harvester" and for each and every of your generous comments. Thank you so, so much once again. (((hugs)))

Oh poor Aegnor! What a terrible way to end--and yet Shaghkar isn't even particularly cruel, just being a good orc! In fact, I think you did an extremely good job with Shaghkar's characterization and his POV.

You did great things with the prompts and I love the ending, with the fragment of the letter. (Of course, I can't help wishing Aegnor had managed to send it...!)

Thank you! Thank you so much for reading and reviewing. I'm so happy that I did a decent job with Shaghkar's POV (another OC I can use elsewhere ;)). Oshun helped me a lot with it, I need to credit her here. And of course, I too wish Aegnor had found a way to send this letter to Andreth, oh well, romantic me... Thank you! :D

This is outstanding!  So much in a short ficlet - intense, wrenching, visceral.  There's an immense and primal beauty in the brutal imagery (<= must be the DM talking here ;^)) of Shaghkar considering the dying elf-man, and then without compassion, but just doing what an orc's gonna do, putting him out of his misery. 

I love the style you've used to take the reader right into Shaghkar's headspace.  The syntax absolutely works.

Then...the coda.  OMG.  I didn't see that coming, and it was a punch in the gut.  So to speak. ;^)

In short, a fabulous ficlet that highlights your formidable writing talent!