They say he stopped feeling somewhere in the aftermath of it all, that his grief and rage gave way to an emptiness that seemed to consume him, but it was never completely so. For My Lord's spirit remained fiery as his hair. It was something else, I think, he lost that day, as I emerged from the sidelines where I had been sent to wait out the battle, to see him crouching there, covered in blood, a strand of black hair clutched in his hand and tears streaking his face as Lord Maglor stood behind him, looking for all the world as if he had run out of things to say.
That bit of hair, and My Lord's face were all the signs I had needed to know what had happened. There was, after all, only one who's death would bring him to this state, only one whom he had loved above all else and only one, who would cause the pit in my own stomach to widen until I felt that it should devour me whole, rather than to leave me standing to bear and record this news. For I had loved him too, or at least, the idea of him once.
"King Fingon then." I muttered, and the pit grew still wider, though for my part, tears would not fall.
"I…yes." Lord Maglor agreed, glancing towards his brother, then back to me. "I…am sorry. I know he was a particular favorite of yours and…"
"So many before him have gone." I could not say that I was much surprised at it now. "So many of us more will go before the end. What else is there but to expect it? I…" The shaking voice was mine I knew, and yet not mine, and my deep breaths to calm it were not doing me much good now when I needed to remain detached, professional.
A good scribe after all, did not waste her time in mourning the loss of a man she had only ever been enamoured with, kind to her as he had always been. A good scribe would not stand here now recounting countless schemes to gain his attention, foolish attempts at flattery and seduction which had only ever been good for a laugh over the campfire later on. A good scribe would do her duty and nothing less, both for her lord and for the fallen king. He was owed that much certainly.
Another deep breath, for I would mourn later when I was alone, and I drew myself up as I always had, maintaining, or pretending to maintain the badly needed composure that the three of us so lacked, and forced myself only to look to the records I must now create.
"Might I know then, Lords, the means by which it occurred? " I continued, raising my head proudly as Fingon himself might have done, and steeling myself for whatever dreadful tidings must now come. For now, at least it was business as usual.