1. Iron Flame
To draw forth my arm in unholy thirst;
Or is that blood covet of my own hand?
Wouldst thou as all others name me the cursed?
Thy bright-gleaming edge speaks falsely of light
Was this of the fair Cuthalion purloined?
Alas that his breath was raped by thy bite!
Alas that with flesh and blood we were joined!
O darkling blade, hold fast thy steel-edged tongue
For in thy whispers I hear my own breath;
Our dour-handed deeds are on my head hung
While soulless alike we walk to our death.
This appetite for death I cannot sate
Together let us partake of our fate.
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.