Immured in my lugubrious heart’s cell.
Nothing but blood can mine own vengeance sate,
Or else will plunge my soul deep into hell.
How dost the base-born mortal, Tuor, dare
To touch thee, silver maiden, with his hand?
The argent bridal gown thy lithe form wears.
How much more torment can my soul yet stand?
My torment greater is than thou canst know,
Within the love of thy own father’s house.
To Tuor deepest scorn I will not show:
But burn inside for hate of mortal louse.
I gnaw the bindings of mine own deep hate.
Beware lest thou partake of my dark 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.