The End of All

Disclaimer: I own none of these characters; all are creations of Tolkien, albient they are not that known.
Special thanks to Tirananniel, my patient beta.



The trampling of feet was becoming unbearable. If he hadn't known better, he would have said that Sauron had released an army of Mûmakils.

Be silent, be still. His father's voice rang through his ears. Crouching, he weighed his choices: run to the city and warn the others, saving his life. Either that, or alerting the other talan, that was but a few groups of trees away with his horn, and dealing with potential death.

Be silent, be still.

Staying low, he ran through the branches. His breathing steady and quiet, he stopped short before jumping to another tree.

Be silent, be still.

His backpack got caught in the branches; a few leaves fell down. One of the attackers looked up and a cry went into the air. He cursed.

Be silent, be still.

He ran now. A weak branch was the end. The air was pushed out of his lungs as he landed. His eyes watered. Cries of the goblins were close.

Be silent, be still.

Freeing his good hand, he slowly brought the horn to his lips. He blew a weak note. It stopped the cries for a second. His breathing grew shallow. An answering call went into the air.

Be silent, be still.

A pair of iron-edged boots stopped by his side. The next moment he felt a jab of pain in his chest.

Be silent, be still.