Fanworks Tagged with Dior & Lúthien

This is a Writing fanwork

Until the final flicker of life’s embers by Quente

Dior did not see the arrow until it pierced his own flesh, a hard thrust of a point entering his back and blossoming out of his heart. The pain of the wound, and the feeling of his body in uncertain panic around it, was almost secondary to his curiosity.

Now what?

Dior felt strangely detached, as if he had stepped out of his body. He watched himself fall over the body of the Golodh he’d slain. Dior had worn no helm nor armor that day – and he saw his hair fan out to cover them both. They died together in the dark cloak of it.

Dior’s eyes closed, and all was dark.

~

And then Dior opened his eyes.

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