39. Judgment
He stirred, surprised to awaken again. All too vividly he remembered falling from the sky as Orodruin exploded, screaming his joy at finally being free from the Dark Lord's control, at remembering who he really was.
He looked about him at grey, unsettling nothingness. What was going to happen now?
The sound of a door being unbarred shattered the unnerving silence. Resigned, exhausted by the weight of his unnatural life, he rose to his feet to face what was ahead. He surely now would pay the price for listening to Annatar - for his complicity in the fall of Númenor, for his hounding of that little hobbit - and he was glad. He had done unspeakable things, unable to refuse the Dark Lord's bidding. He deserved whatever was to come.
He wasn't ready to see a door open in the featureless grey, and he blinked at the glory of the sunrise that bathed a green hillside beyond the threshold. He'd ignored such beauty before, and forgotten it during centuries of endless, groveling servitude. What was this?
But it was the welcoming smile of his long-dead wife, waiting for him with their drowned sons, that finally drove him to his knees.
He looked about him at grey, unsettling nothingness. What was going to happen now?
The sound of a door being unbarred shattered the unnerving silence. Resigned, exhausted by the weight of his unnatural life, he rose to his feet to face what was ahead. He surely now would pay the price for listening to Annatar - for his complicity in the fall of Númenor, for his hounding of that little hobbit - and he was glad. He had done unspeakable things, unable to refuse the Dark Lord's bidding. He deserved whatever was to come.
He wasn't ready to see a door open in the featureless grey, and he blinked at the glory of the sunrise that bathed a green hillside beyond the threshold. He'd ignored such beauty before, and forgotten it during centuries of endless, groveling servitude. What was this?
But it was the welcoming smile of his long-dead wife, waiting for him with their drowned sons, that finally drove him to his knees.
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.
