My men and I stand fast before the Black Gate, awaiting whatever horror might emerge. A fey smile crosses my lips as I think on my forty years in the sable and silver, come at last to this. A man of my age should be warming his bones before his hearth, but I’ve always wanted to meet Death standing up.
That Man from the North, Aragorn—they say he is Isildur’s Heir, but I know little of such matters. I do not go to battle for him. I think of the shining eyes of my daughter, and never look back.
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.