Brucia la terra mia

A/N.  Tolkien belongs to Tolkien.  Brucia la terra from The Godfather Part 3. See my website for the link to hear the song.

Chapter One

Grasses carpeted the land in a golden late autumn hue, loping downwards across the plains before rising gently up over the hills and rocky mounds in the near distant North where Pine trees congregated in expansive forests.  The sky was clear and a crisp blue in this place.  One could lay back, hands behind a lazy head, on the ground and stare up into the azure ceiling of Middle Earth.  Fluffy white clouds were few but came floating slowly as distorted shapes and forms across the expanse of pale blue sky.

If one dared to view farther, the sky blackened and choked in smoke and malice.  Not yet in this place, this Ard Galen had the menace come.  It would not be long before shadow and death were invoked and rivers of fire and blood would scorch the plains in a permanent injury.  That time was not far off and the elves sensed this.

Hithmir and his companion Belvedon allowed themselves the rare luxury of a rest.  Both elves were laid out, enjoying the peace and rapture of silence.  Few had such heaven available to them and the elves did not have the opportunity for such frivolities in these darkened days.  The Scouts were so very close to the fortress hidden in Dorthonion, they thought themselves allowed a moment.

"Order me away, friend. I find mine self immobile."

"Nay, I cannot let this peace be taken from thee in haste, for it would be sundered from mine self also."

"Lord Aikanár will find not amusement in our whimsy."

"Let him scowl and rant as he has been wont to do these many years past.  I would not let this moment go by should The Morgoth itself come and pitch me from my spot."

Hithmir chuckled and rested his dark head once more.  He closed his eyes, and imagined birdsong and insect bustle.  These music's were missing.  It had been endless days since he could remember hearing either.  A pretty day and an empty prairie could not change that – or the presiding fact that a war was coming that would be a means to a very great end.

Belvedon sighed and stretched his body.  Armour prohibited his movement and he grimaced.  The elves were at this moment blessed.  For had they not been lying on the grassy floor, they would not have heard the reverberations of the marching Yrch army as it approached from the far North-West.  Belvedon reacted first.

Chapter Two

"They have not returned?"

"Nay, Lord Aegnor."

The elf sat cupping his chalice of wine at the wooden bench.  He swirled the contents and watched the blood red liquid dance. 

The stonework of his brothers' halls left him claustrophobic and his brooding intensity radiated from every sinew of his lean body.

Angrod had sent two of his best scouts out on tour and neither had returned to report.  Aegnor was concerned.  He felt something was approaching.  Sorrow and regret were pushed to the deepest recesses in his heart and his mind should be focused.  Should be but was not.

The moon is burning in the sky                                       Brucia la luna n'cielu                
And I am burning with love                                              E ju bruciu d'amuri
The fire that is consumed                                               Focu ca si consuma
Like my heart                                                                Comu lu me cori

Aegnor raised the chalice and drank deeply.  The day had gone and night settled eerily.  How long had he been seated, reflecting on what could have been?  The pitcher he refilled his cup from was emptied.  He scowled and barked out an order to have it replaced.  Angrod watched his youngest brother from the shadows under the arched framed doors.  He knew what troubled the mind and tortured the fëa of the elf before him.  Andreth.  Her name a curse upon his brother.  She who was not of their kind and whom could never be with him.  The beloved and the forsaken.

My soul cries                                                                 L'anima chianci
Painfully                                                                        Addulurata

I'm not at peace                                                             Non si da paci
What a terrible night                                                       Ma cchi mala nuttata

Angrod emerged from the dimness and gloom and joined his brother.  Aegnor did not look at him.  He was lost in reverie and memory.  The pitcher he had emptied was replaced and Angrod helped himself.  He spoke and Aegnor was startled.  He turned frowning to glance at his brother and hear his words.

"My scouts have been returned.  They are both dead."

Angrod's looked into the pain filled eyes of Aegnor.

"It is time.  We knew this would come to us first.  It was foreseen."

Aegnor closed his eyes and shut out the truth for a brief second.  Her face flashed before him and the starlight he had seen caught in her hair stayed with him.

The time passes                                                            Lu tempu passa
But there is no dawn                                                       Ma non agghiorna
There is no sunshine                                                      Non c'e mai suli
If she doesn't return                                                       S'idda non torna

My earth is burning                                                         Brucia la terra mia
And my heart is burning                                                  E abbrucia lu me cori
What she thirsts for water                                               Cchi siti d'acqua idda
I thirst for love                                                               E ju siti d'amuri


"I am ready.  Let it come, let them all come."

Aegnor stood and the sharpe flame emerged.  He swayed slightly and his speech was slurred from too much wine.  Drunkenness could not dim the light he held.  The light that was fated to strike fast and true before ceasing.  Angrod reached across the table and steadied his brother with a firm hand.  He guided him back onto the bench and slid the chalice closer to the elf who gratefully received it.

"Ever have we been ready, brother mine."

They drank together, in quiet thought throughout the night and mentally prepared their fëa for the end they knew was nigh upon them.

Who will I sing                                                               Acu la cantu
My song to                                                                    La me canzuni

If there is no one                                                            Si no c'e nuddu
Who shows herself                                                         Ca s'a affacia
On the balcony                                                              A lu barcuni

The morning came too swiftly.  Tired and weary, Aegnor rode out from Dorthonion and searched the plains for signs of the fight, which had ended the lives of the two scouts.  At once it was evident.  The horses remained were they had fallen.  Arrows pierced the hides of both beasts and the golden grass was crimson and brown in caked and smeared blood.  The helm of Hithmir lay upside down.  There was no mark or stain upon it.  Aegnor deduced it had not been worn when the attack happened.  Yrch carcasses were littered everywhere.  The scouts had fought bravely.  Aegnor dismounted and began piling the foul creatures for burning.  He swore and wished for a pyre high enough to reach The Morgoth.

Overhead, the purity of the sky was diminished.  Grey and purple swathed across the innocent blue and cloaked the last lights of peace.  The air became close and Aegnor breathed heavily as he set about his task.  There came a chill with the darkness.  Winter was born and with it came the battle called Dagor Bragollach…

Chapter 3

Angrod held his head in his hands.  The cries of the elves fighting their last surrounded him.  Swords clashed and fire scorched.  The Balrog's made light work of destroying the infantry.  The cavalry were charging and as they fell, many orc's were taken with them. 

Sweat and tears streaked down the elven Lords face as he looked up and witnessed mayhem.  Rivers of flame ran through Ard Galen, the plains now gone.  Glaurung the Dragon swooped from the traitorous sky and devoured elf and orc alike in his frenzy. 

A volley of arrows overhead kept the beast from taking the fortress of Aegnor although Angrod's had fallen to the enemy swiftly.  His brother was leading the final charge from the highlands.  Angrod knew he would not see his brother again in this life.  They would reunite in the Hall's of Namo – Mandos would house them and they could forget all the death and destruction they were now fighting amidst.

He stood and wiped his brow.  Bodies at his feet were ignored as Angrod leapt to join the last charge of the Cavalry.  His steed galloped swift and proud and Angrod's spear was effective until his end.  Glaurung flew low and the turbulence from his wings disturbed the balance of horse and rider.  Angrod was thrown from his mount and landed hard on the scorched ground.  He drew his sword and parried with one, two, three orc's.  They fell at his feet in mutilated defeat. The elven lord heard the shouts of his herald and strode with a steely determination to his aid.  Side by side they fought.  Courage and honour upheld to the very end.

Finally, Angrod was delivered to Mandos.  He saw Glaurung swoop and lifted his sword.  He saw the great jaws open and the creature inhale.  He saw the dragon exhale and the plume of a fireball as it shot out on a lash of orange that ensnared the elves on the ground and ended them all.

Aegnor and the remnants of his infantry retreated.  His fortress has been taken.  They ran through the forests and collected themselves for a final stand.  Below, the once golden plains were now swathed in the gore of battle.  Balrog's walked the land.  Great whips flicked out and tumbled elves like petals from a rose on a windy day. 

Aegnor configured his troop into a strategic formation and they took the orc's who had thought to follow them.  Archers in the trees sprayed arrows down onto the grotesque enemy.  More followed and when all the arrows were spent, the elves drew blades and combat was eye to eye.  Aegnor pivoted on the balls of his feet and his sword took the head of the orc behind him.  Where one was felled, another appeared.  He dived and dodged every thrust and stroke from the orc's.  They could not match his speed or skill. 

Suddenly, the ground trembled.  Thunder approached.  The trees came alight.  There were some elves who screamed as they were killed.  The Balrog walked through the forests and did not stop.  The monster was heading to Ard Galen to join the rest of Morgoth's army.  They had victory.  Himring and Minas Tirith would feel the brunt of their might soon enough.

The distraction of the elves by the Balrog was an opportune event.  One by one they were slain.  Aegnor did not see the blow that killed him.  A sword thrust into his back piercing through his body.  He chocked on the blood as it rose and spewed from his mouth.  Aegnor fell to his knees.

The night was giving way to dawn but still the sky was black.  He collapsed onto a bed of pine needles and prayed.  He prayed that Arien would not be taken from the sky and that the sun would not be lost.  At that moment he longed to see it.  He closed his eyes.  Her image came to him for the last time.  Dark tresses and warm, sweet smile.  Young and beautiful and wise. His adanel, his Andreth. 

The moon is burning in the sky                                       Brucia la luna n'cielu
And I am burning with love                                              E ju bruciu d'amuri
The fire that is consumed                                               Focu ca si consuma
Like my heart                                                                Comu lu me cori


She consumed him for the last time as his hroar was left broken on the forest floor.  He passed into the light and lived an eternity with her memory.