The only thing worse than foresight, Námo decided, was loosing it.
He had always hated the gift that left him able to see the future but to do nothing about it, knowing things had to play out the way Ilúvatar decreed, and that he could not take away the free will of others.
But now, as the end of Time grew nearer, he could see less and less. He knew what that meant: no matter what the Valar or anyone else did, everything that would happen was up to Melkor.
And that scared him more than he cared to admit.
It's been a while since I've done a drabble. Ah well. Still fun.