Author note" Will I got a request to write a story with Fingolfin, from a friend and a guest here, this is chapter 1, I'm not done with the story... yet.
I might edit this to something else.
Chapter 1"Prologue ."
Dust swirled around his frail body, clinging to his limp and unconscious form. His ocean eyes fluttered open, and he looked around in confusion.
"Where am I…?" he said quietly. Fingolfin sat up slowly from where he lay on the old, wooden floor. It groaned in protest, seemingly louder in the quiet as death house. His dark hair still loss on his shoulders. His broken Armour was covered in light dust – a greyish-black Armour and a cape. "What am I wearing?"
He looked around as he stood up. "Where am I…" he murmured again.
He came closer to the window and looked outside. The wind was cold, the sky was gray and cloudy. In the far distance, he could see it.
"Nay…it can't be…" he muttered as he walked slowly through the small room, he opened the door to leave and felt his breath hitch on his throat. His eyes gazed up ahead, and he was met with his own nightmare.
"Nay…" he murmured painfully. "Why am I here again?… is this a punishment!" he looked down, The sight of the darkness coming from Mordor overwhelmed his heart.
Still he could remember the last thing happened. Morgoth hurled aloft Grond, the Hammer of the Underworld, and swung it down like a bolt of thunder. But Fingolfin sprang aside, and Grond rent a mighty pit in the earth... Many times Morgoth essayed to smite him, and each time Fingolfin leaped away...; and he wounded Morgoth with seven wounds, and seven times Morgoth gave a cry of anguish, whereat the hosts of Angband fell upon their faces in dismay, and the cries echoed in the Northlands.
Morgoth bore down his shield upon him. Thrice he was crushed to his knees, and thrice arose again and bore up his broken shield and stricken helm. But the earth was all... pitted about him, and he stumbled and fell backward before the feet of Morgoth; and Morgoth set his left foot upon his neck... Yet with his last and desperate stroke Fingolfin hewed the foot with Ringil, and the blood gushed forth black and smoking and filled the pits of Grond.
He touched his neck, he felt like the wound is on a flame that will never fade away.
Thus he walked out of the tiny house, like an aimless shadow in a strange world. Going as far away as possible from the darkness.
...
The riders of Rohan were horrified, at the massacre before them.
The river became red; as many honorable Rohirrim laid near the water, taking their last breaths."Look for him." Eomer their leader shouted angrily.
They needed to look for Theodred, son of Theoden, the only heir of the throne and the second marshal of the riddermark.
With each body they found, their hope was fading painfully slow from their troubled hearts. Eomer stood still thinking, what I'm going to tell them? Eowyn, beloved king Theoden.
Suddenly they sensed a cold air; They could see a figure has just arrived. The Rohirrim prepared their bows, aiming directly at the figure approaching them. Not quite sure, if their fear is reasonable.
"In the name of Eru Iluvatar, speak up! or we will shot you."
Fingolfin stopped and raised his hands up," I mean you no harm, my lord." he said.
"What are you doing here?" Eomer asked as he looked at him carefully,"You are an elf!" he said, half surprised.
"I'm a lost traveler, my lord," Fingolfin said."I'm just passing by."
Four of the Rohirrim came to him and held his hands behind his back,"What?"
"The white wizard is cunning," Eomer said firmly, "his spies are everywhere. You will be our prisoner until we made sure, you are just an elf."
"I'm no spy, to anyone." he shouted.
"We do not trust you," The Rohirrim shouted.
"My lord Eomer," a guard called out to him,"over here."
Fingolfin watched them, as they carried a warrior body up to the horse. He can sense it within his heart, the Injured man is dying.
He wanted to say something to help, but they started to lead him forward in the path, with their swords at his back." Move it, master elf."
"But the man is..."
They pushed him again,"Move it."
After a long tiring walk, he saw the town.
A large charming town; it was the center, between two great mountains.
Fingolfin saw a flag land on the ground before him as he was about to enter through the gates of Edoras. He was awestruck from seeing the mighty symbol on the ground before him.
The men rode through the quiet village while the poor people stared at them gravely.
The silence was hurtful, it spoke volumes of a great sorrow, a great darkness overshadowed them. The hoofs of the horses echoed, along with the wailing winds
Fingolfin looked up at the hall and saw a green figure of a woman standing tall before them. She was like a proud being in a deserted town.
...
"You're alone, who know what you've spoken to the darkness in a bitter watches of the night when all your life seems to shrink the walls of your bower closing in about you," his voice echoed in her ears. His cold fingers digging in her skin.
Grima desired her; there is no doubt. it explains his eyes following her every step.
"Your words are poison," she said coldly. And left the room, she needed to stay as far from him as possible.
The double door of the golden hall opened, and she went outside near the stairs.
Her lungs ached from lack of breathing. Her mind raced along with her heart slamming against her rib cage. She hadn't even realized she was holding her breath.
How the blessing life here had has been dragged into this? without leaving the golden hall, she looked into the fields and spotted the Rohirrim riders coming.
Between them, she spotted a tall figure, his dark hair flowing in the wind, it was nothing like she has seen before: it reminded her so much of a midnight sky."Who is that?" she wondered.
Then, she saw him; Theodred in Eomer's arms, barely awake.
She ran back inside, screaming for the healers to come,"Theodred is here, hurry."
Thank you for reading, Leave your thoughts.