Return of the King - Drabbled, The
7. The Pyre of Denethor
Yet, a shadow lingers inside the walls.
The Steward sinks into despair. His city battles in vain. His son burns within. But they will bow to none, he decides.
The Silent Street resonates as he meets resistance. Naught placates him - not the wizard, not small triumphs, not his son’s dreaming voice. The enemy’s will he has seen - the West ruined, his son never to awaken.
He awaits not hope. He hears not the enemy’s captain fall. He has ruled his end.
But not his son’s.
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