1. Fallen Kingdom
I know it is hopeless, but I run.
The maelstrom crashes all about me, but it is as if I am in a dream; as if I am watching someone else as they try to out-run the apocalypse.
The steps are slippery, but I must not falter; one false move might mean my ending, after all.
On I run- upwards and onwards, ever upwards.
I pray to anyone listening to save me, but…
Oh, you Valar, why do you punish me?
The sin was his, not ours.
On I run, as the world ends around me.
Dust fouls my hair as the tower shakes.
Cruel irony, this; will I flee the fire and flood only to be killed by falling?
Death is in the air this day, in the water, in the fire, in the earth itself.
Oh, you Valar, how could this be?
How could you tear your Gift from us so callously?
Do you not see the misery you cause?
You kill women and children and babes in arms this day along with tyrants and murderers and monsters.
Further up the tower I run, as lightning blasts overhead and the wind howls like Carcaroth himself, deafening even over the blasting roar of my dying land.
He was never its King, just as I was never its Queen.
Oh, you Valar, I defy you.
You seek to end your own foolishness with madness.
My so-called King- my so-called husband…
He would never have listened to you had he been given a million lifetimes.
You could have ended it before it came to this, should have ended it before it came to this.
Should have ended him.
Through the windows as I run I see a World gone astray- the sky blazes red from horizon to horizon, an ugly mass of storm-clouds shot through with veins of lightning that pulse and twist with venomous intent- monstrous rattlesnakes to rain down venomous wrath on an entire people for the sake of one man's hubris.
So much rage and hate in the execution of your will- could you not have done this differently, you Valar?
I finally reach the top of the tower, and see that despite my greatest efforts I was too late.
The very land itself tilts like an ill-balanced plate- what should be a flat plain gives me vertigo.
A hundred, a thousand, a million souls cry out…
…I know it is too late.
Flame and foam, darkness and death…
My eyes close, resigned to the end.
Oh you Valar…
…why have you forsaken me?
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.