For she was not the person his father (and the uncles he once idolized) had told him of: the broken wife, the mother who turned her back, the woman who abandoned her family.
The histories were written by the victors, Celebrimbor mused, flattening a piece of mithril tissue-thin, and on the other side of the sea, he was the victor.
But which person, he wondered later, as twilight flitted about corners like spirits flying from Mandos, truly won here?
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.