A light mist hung low over fields and meadows, becoming thicker as rain drizzled from the dismal sky. The birds were silent, as though they were aware of the sorrow and fear that penetrated the darkest corners of the nearby house.
Suddenly, from around a corner, a young, dark-haired Elf ran frantically towards the main entrance, a bow dangling from his hand. A short distance from the stairs, he paused, looking up towards a lamp-lit room on the second floor.
'Ro!' he shouted, his voice strangled and desperate. 'Wait for me!'
No answer came from the house.
The Elf continued at a mad pace, running up the stairs two at a time, till he reached the doors. Not even waiting for the guards to pull them open, he grabbed the ornately-carved handles himself.
In the hallways, servants side-stepped him, their questions and exclamations of concern falling on deaf ears. Sorrow-filled eyes followed him as he muttered apologies to those who did not escape his path soon enough.
At last, he reached the room he was looking for – his twin's room. Pausing outside the door, he took a few deep breaths, fighting to calm himself down somewhat – there was no use in causing his younger brother further distress. Once he was breathing relatively evenly, and the wild look had left his eyes, he slowly opened the door and entered the chamber.
Two elleth were present, one holding a cool cloth to the patient's brow, the other lighting the sconces on the walls.
'How is he?'
'Not well, my lord. I fear that this time he will not recover. If only your father were here, he may have been able to help him!'
The older twin closed his eyes, reaching out a hand to touch his brother's cheek. All colour was gone, leaving a parchment-like appearance to it. 'Ro, please. Do not leave me!' he begged, tears falling from his eyes.
His twin did not respond verbally, but his eyes slid open. Slowly, he moved a thin hand up to rest on his brother's arm, even as his grey, pain-filled eyes smiled gently. With great effort, the younger twin forced his lips to part.
'El...' he whispered. 'I cannot go on.'
'You must... Ro, you must! Hold on a while more, and we will take ship! In Valinor, surely you shall recover!'
Ro shook his head. 'I would if I could,' he rasped, his voice getting even weaker. 'But I can't. I tried, El... I tried s-so many ti-times.' By this time, he was gasping for every breath, and he could feel his life slipping away from him. 'It... It is too late, mu-muindor. W-we will meet again someday, you and I. But until... th-that day, never f-forget me, El. Always r-remember your annoying t-twin brother.'
Tears slipped unashamedly down both brothers' cheeks.
'I will, Ro, I swear. Go then, and find peace. I love you.'
'Love you... too.'
The last word came out as a sigh, barely audible. With that, the younger twin's eyes went dull as his heart failed.
Soft steps came up behind the living twin, but he did not take notice of them. His eyes were fixed on his dead brother, his hands clasped tightly in his lap.
A hand came to rest softly on his shoulder. Slowly, he turned to look at the one who silently offered support. As he did so, he noticed that the two elleth were no longer in the room, and that he and the other Elf were the only ones left – along with his brother.
Cirdan tightened his grip on the younger Elf's shoulder. 'So passes Tar-Minyatur,' the ancient Elf-lord said quietly, grief evident in both his features and voice. 'Thus ends the days of the first king of Numenor,' he continued. 'They have been blessed.'
THE END
A/N: Just a quick something I came up with early this morning! And yes, I did snitch the last couple lines from RotK. Enjoy, and please drop a review!
On another note, I'm hoping to get another chapter of Table Tales out soon, but I have no ideas - if you think of any, please either PM me or leave them in a review! Thanks! :)
