24. So It Goes.
History's ropes bind men to pendants already swung, lade them like boats with baggage destined for one wharf.
Needs a blow to cut such ties: that pretty chair in Osgiliath puts candles to kindling...
A mute'll find her beneath sheets of crystalline snow, unlucky Goldilocks. A violinist'll turn letter on some Dúnedain sailors: poorbread cookie crumbs for men to tail to law's indifference, that unleashes bottled rage.
Fire in the hole...
From afar, moneyed men see only foreign monkeys rampaging, not the seeds that grew this winter peach. History's course forks: they'll raise a new moon, and call him 'Castamir.'
And that's a wrap!
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.
