Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 2 |
| Maglor |
| I almost laugh at my heart's stirring. Do the Valar have a sense of humour after all? Father would scowl to know I think of them so, but there it is: I yearn to sail West. There is no hope of redemption. I hear the hisses, see the venomous eyes I would face if ever I returned to the Undying Lands. Even if Ulmo himself should call me, how would I ever find peace there? Nay. I chose the spirit of fire long ago; it is too late to cleave to water. Why, then, can I not leave this beach? |
Note: "Spirit of fire" is the meaning of the name "Fëanor". |