WARNING: This one is really sad... Don't read if you don't like really sad drabbles, :)
The Nature of Evil
The fire crackled merrily in the hearth, providing comfort and a companionable warmth on the chilly evening.
Turin's mother, Morwen, was roasting nuts over the fire before dipping them in honey for her family, a rare and special treat.
Lalaith laughed her beautiful laugh as their father, Hurin, teased her with them before popping a few of the delicious nuts into her mouth.
Morwen smiled at her daughter before turning to Turin, standing in a dancing shadow behind her like a body-guard.
"Would you like some, dearest?" she asked him cheerfully as if she had not a care in the world, holding out a handful of sizzling nuts invitingly.
"Yes, thank you." Turin accepted them, smiling back, before turning to his father, who had launched into one of his marvelous songs especially for his giggling little daughter, and Turin sighed softly, closing his eyes and smiling as he bit down on a roasted nut, trying to capture this perfect moment forever in his mind.
Never mind that he was feeling so tired all of a sudden, or that the fire seemed too hot as it crackled happily in the darkness, this moment was still so perfect, never mind all the problems of the world around him, for this moment it felt as if he and his family were apart from all that, in their own little protected world of perfect bliss, he felt so happy and safe here, the feeling was hardly conceivable in his young mind.
That night the fever took a hold of him, and by the time he awoke, Lalaith was dead.
I may or may not have been listening to 'Innocence' as I wrote this...
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