4. Of Sense and Outward Things
I cannot see it.
Look closer, O Man.
We gazed at visionary towers -- Have you seen it, Aragorn? I asked, looking at you and naming you Lord of Gondor. Only the Ranger was before me.
Now at the edge of disaster, your face is weary. Sweat drips on my surcoat. Your hands clasp my face, smeared with enemy blood.
I see my king, my hope.
What virtue is in dying eyes I know not, but I do see. A vow is on my lips.
I speak; it is gone.
Discussion welcome – in the Drabble forum or in HF’s File
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.