Horses gone, the dogs also. Starved rat, a feast carefully shared. Harbouring strength enough to lift blade and none spared to quench fires raging unchecked through Osgiliath.
“Eldacar! We cannot hold.”
The rightful king must flee a once-fair city.
“Pure-blooded filthy barbarian! He burns his own.”
Escape barely possible, and much abandoned.
“You cannot go in, my lord. ‘Twould be death.”
Hands held him back from the door, heat from the flames searing through mail. The
could not be left for that haughty rebel. Ballistas set and loosed. Eldacar watched until the tower fell into the waters of Anduin.
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.