5. Father to Son - Marta's birthday drabble
Blackness and stench nearly overwhelm me. Screams further off, closer only dying whimpers, and disguise forbids I ease their passing. Yet one chained in this corner can still speak, though he raves.
"Ring, my Ring... stolen from me - curse them! - last of the Seven..."
He breaks off coughing, broken lungs straining; little time left. I risk the faintest glimmer to look closer at his face, and for a moment sanity gleams desperate in his clouded eyes. He gropes feebly inside the rags of his tunic.
"Map... key..." He presses them into my hands, eyes pleading with me. "For my son."
~~~
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.
