To anthi35 (guest): Thank you! That's a good idea. Perhaps I'll incorporate it into a future drabble. :)
...No reviews for the last drabble? I hope that changes soon... ;)
Anyway, I'm like totally certain that the character in this one is obvious to Silmarillion fans, even though she's never explicitly identified. Enjoy!
#51: On the Brink
There is blood everywhere, so much blood. I'm running through a darkened corridor, but even there the horrible scent follows me.
We should have known the wrath of the sons of Fëanor would find us sooner or later. How could I have been so blind? But this Jewel I have around my neck - I must save it at all costs. At least they will not have that, no matter what else they've taken from me today.
A sob clutches my throat, and I swallow hard, my breath coming in ragged gasps. My little boys have no chance at all among these killers. I don't know where the twins are, and I can only imagine the fear they must be experiencing, if they are not already- already- I can't finish the thought. It hurts too much.
Behind me, growing ever closer, are about twenty of the Fëanorians' servants. I can hear their footsteps and their cries as they draw near.
All hope is gone for me. I only wish to keep the jewel from the cruel sons of Fëanor. I was forced into this corridor by my pursuers, and I know already that it's practically a dead end. Half sobbing, I clutch the holy gem, its glow lighting my way. The door can't be far now. "Eru, help me," I breathe, and keep running.
A moment later I see the door. Desperately I slam into it, fumble with the knob, and burst out into blinding sunlight. (Strange how the sun can continue to shine on a day like this, when all I love and live for has been torn away.)
I'm on a white stone balcony that's built by the edge of a cliff. A salt breeze stings my eyes and whips my hair back, and I can hear the surf pounding on the cliff base thirty feet below. I slam the hall door behind me, hard, and hope it buys me a second of time.
I dart over to the railing, my sandaled feet slapping on the marble blocks. The sea is rough and unforgiving, stretching away to the horizon in vast blue swells, and for a fraction of a second I hesitate, hold myself back.
But the door is suddenly thrown open behind me and soldiers pour out, shouting commands. I have no more time to second-guess my decision. I leap up onto the stone railing. For an instant I stand there, on the brink, clutching the Silmaril on its chain, while the world seems to recede around me. I view it through a trembling lens of tears.
"Eru, protect my boys," I sob, and fling myself into nothingness.
