The road to Minas Tirith from Edoras lay still and quiet in the noonday sun. Nothing moved. A rod or two away, however, life was very different. Or rather - death.
The remains of a soldier, perhaps an errand-rider, were being ravaged. Carrion birds flew high overhead, screeching their hunger while waiting for the stronger birds below to finish their meal and move aside, so that they could land and eat what was left. Those birds on the ground squabbled amongst themselves over the few pieces of meat left by the Orcs who had provided them this little feast. A shredded tunic, with a skeletal-like white tree embroidered upon it, lay half a rod away from what was left of the body. A sword and banner, with the same tree marked on it, lay next to the corpse.
Rain began to fall; plump droplets spattered down upon a piece of parchment that lay next to the tunic. The ink began to run as each drop hit. The signature was the last to be obliterated by the falling rain...
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.