Fandom/Genre: LotR, gen
Pairing/Rating: none
Warning: None
Note: Although this was written for monkeycrackmary’s Minas Tirith drabble challenge, it’s a bit over 100 words.

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by lipsum

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I tilt my head, turning my right eye down, down the slope, down the wind to the white stone.

Petals tremble in the hands of a Mortal child. She casts her flowers to the ground, where hooves crush them. Light glints painfully bright off steel clothing. They are breathing quickly, the men beneath those heavy shrouds, gasping their life’s worth of breath.

My shoulders ache, my toes curl and clench. I want to leap from this peak; but I must not, not yet, not until it is decided for good or ill. The time of annuciation is not come.

And anyway, I cannot read Mortal faces.

I keep my right eye on the ground. My left eye is turned toward the starless sky.

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All feedback welcomed with a glad cry.

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