102. Cold Feet
There would be no one to frighten you if you refused to be afraid."-Ghandi Write a story or poem or create artwork where the character conquers his or her fears.
Maglor gazed across the water, feasting his eyes on the tower at Avallonë as a starving man would gorge himself at a banquet table. And yet, he fought with the current that drew him inexorably onwards, striving to hold off the moment of landing for as long as possible.
On the strength of a baseless conviction that had slowly grown in his heart and mind until he could think of nothing else, he had traded all of his other belongings for this boat and set sail westward. But now that he was here, all he could do was ask himself if he had erred. Was he sailing to his death - or to forgiveness? Was mercy even possible for one such as he?
He wouldn't know until he landed. He did know he was beyond exhausted trying to hide his Elven nature from those who didn't understand. His cousin Artanis had sailed home and been forgiven. She had done more to assist in the defeat of the Enemy than he had, though...
It mattered not.
He set aside fear as he trimmed the sail, and pinned his gaze on home. Maglor, son of Fëanor, was ready to face his doom.
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.