Nothing for Tears
The Crown
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Silver it gleams in the candlelight of Nargothrond, silver as Teleperion in the morning of its splendour, silver as the twilight on the Western Seas.
He takes one step forward, his feet heavy, his hair flaxen-dull, and reaches out a single finger to touch the empty crown on the great, empty throne. Yet a shudder rips through him, as if a poison dart had struck his heart, and he recoils, remembering that it is not his but by cowardice only.
A great eye it seems, silver-grey, as the smiling glances of him who bore it, and so he dare not touch it.
By silence and by sheathed arms was his brother slain.
Orodreth, King of Nargothrond in his dead brother's stead, bows his head in his hands and weeps.
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