Blood pours from the wound in my throat, but I do not feel it.
Mirren told me to come back with my shield or on it.
Something screams in the distance- something awful and ancient, something dire and dreadful- but I turn to face it anyway.
My sword is heavy in my hand, my shield and armour heavier still, the blood and sweat I have shed this day turning every second into an eternity of agony...
The thing screams with rage.
So do I...
...and then I charge.
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.