Something stirs in the empty places within the mountain above me, something I have not sensed for Ages of the world.
Not the small ones, who awake me with their hammers and their shovels and dump dirt and dust on my head - those I can blast into ashes with a single breath. Not the other small ones, who clammer and skitter and chatter and fight among themselves until I cannot stand the din - those I blast into ashes regularly, because they never seem to learn.
No. This is different. A challenge I dare not refuse.
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.