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#11 | |
Overshadowed Eagle
Join Date: Nov 2017
Location: The north-west of the Old World, east of the Sea
Posts: 3,957
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Quote:
--- Tar-Miriel clings to the rock of the Meneltarma, her finery all in tatters, the crown Pharazon forced on her washed away. Below her, the towers of Armenelos are falling; as we watch, the great dome of Sauron's temple cracks and falls to the waves. Above her, the Holy Mountain towers, wreathed in stormclouds. It is so close now, but still impossibly far. There is no way she can reach it. Unless... We see movement, at first seeming to be merely the stirring of the clouds: a downward ripple, as if something is falling through them. It repeats. Lightning flashes. The clouds part - and the Eagles of the Lords of the West emerge. They are vast and terrible and beautiful - barely even birds any more, their claws clasping lightning, their wings a shadow that blots out the sun. But we can see something in their eyes - not rage or hate, but a pity so deep it becomes something else. They swoop down from the storm, towards the waters, their eyes fixed on Miriel. She struggles upright, raising her hands in appeal; we see her lips move, forming the prayer to Eru that should have been spoken in the mountaintop hallows. We are with the Eagles now, watching her come closer, until she is covered by their beating wings... ... and they pass over, flying out of the storm, and the wild waters consume Tar-Miriel, last Queen of Numenor. --- Because sometimes, the Eagles don't come. And you're a monster for putting it in my head. ![]() ![]() hS
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Have you burned the ships that could bear you back again? ~Finrod: The Rock Opera |
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