Warnings: Character death
Book/Source: Lays of Beleriand
Disclaimer: Tolkien owns me.
Author's notes: ... And yes, I have taken artistic license again...
Blood dripped, bursting into macabre blossoms on the gleaming white rocks. Nothing could ever grow here again – there was no magic left in this world powerful enough to remove the pall of death.
Pain had overtaken his consciousness. He could not hear his friend’s hoarse voice, begging in half sobs, nor could he feel the soft brush of a lady’s hand on his temple, gently combing his matted hair away from his battered face.
He could however hear the lulling song of the sea, beckoning him home and he could see the faint light, smiling at him.