Mercy, Love by Elleth

Chapter 11

Fingon pushes to his feet one last time, sword and standard in hand. In his mind's eye he sees Maedhros, so full of hope, and sees his wife, and both their arms around him, and hates the Doom of the Noldor and Mandos and Morgoth and the entire world turning upside down.

And in spite of the whip holding him he struggles toward Gothmog, a song last sung on Thangorodrim on his lips, and in his ears the faint answer from above, begging for death.

So be it. He leaps, and the axe descends.

This, too, he does for love.