Source: Aftermath of ‘The Last Alliance
Disclaimer: Tolkien wrote the history – Kortirion appended this drabble, for pleasure not profit.
Minas Tirith’s slate roofs, washed with rain, gleamed somberly beneath leaden skies… reminding him of the shining grey waters of the Havens in winter. He pulled his hood tighter; his ears ached in this chill.
Sent in secret, ironically, disfiguring injury allowed him to pass as Second-born. A sweeping battle-blade half-severed an ear, shaved cheek to the bone – he’d requested surgeons crop the other ear to match - best preserve at least some symmetry!
Many returned scarred, none remarked on another veteran… but hearing nothing of what he was charged to seek... he left, elven-grey cloak uniting with slate-grey vista.