Good grief's freeing – in mourning, he's maladroit, miserly consumptive. Fire and Spirit – hot, dry splendor, he was ever for her brothers. Her tears he yoked, harnessed to machinery, to further further machinations. Then he burned terrifying, grief feeding grief to feed rage – endlessly!
But she sits at his hearth, stings his breast with regret until, maddened, he rives himself.
Fire fills that void, cracks him wide – ends him early. Nienna lies amid the heat of his ashes, her blisters weeping.
But she will to Mandos, to his hearth again – endlessly – 'til patience overcome him…
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.