Disclaimer: Not mine
A/N: It's funny the way my brain works. I was the only one on the archery range the other day, and I was feeling a bit lonely. Out came this.
Standing alone in an empty field, I remember all I've lost. The battle is over, but it seems as though the onslaught of Morgoth's forces will never really end. We knew the peace couldn't last. Now we're met with blood and fire. What was once the proud Plain of Ard-galen is turned to seas of ash beneath my feet. This was my home, and home to my kin. They're gone now. Only I stand here, unable to suppress the deep and abiding grief welling up within. They say blood is on our hands, but have we not paid thrice over?