#tuserosie

The wind howls, buffeting them about the clifftop. Osse's wrath, perhaps, come too late to turn the tide. Elwing staggers backwards, sways, regains her footing, her back against the raging sea. Maglor forces a step towards her, the wind driving against him.

"Hear me, Elwing! Your sons we have taken- for the jewel only we will return them!"

Hear me, he calls, the herald of death and destruction, hear me. There is no way that she could not hear him. We have your children. My children! she thinks. Elrond, still so shy and fearful - he would be terrified. He would cry silently, too afraid to make a sound. If the enemy had not done something to silence him...Elros, braver, may try to comfort him- my children! They have my children!

When she first heard the shouting in the streets, she had pressed a sword into Inweth's hand's and told the nurse to take the twins and run. She imagines Inweth cut down, her insides turned out. Maglor's dented armour is splashed with red. His boots are clad in gore. My children!

In her mind's eye she can see two other little boys. Elured and Elurin were the same age. Where are they now?

The rain lashes down. The blood painting the streets of Sirion will be washed to sea before the sun comes up.

"Surrender, Dioriel!", the bloody minstrel cries once more, advancing.

If they have my children, why will he not bring them before me now?

There is a ripping, tearing sensation in her chest. A scream is building up inside her- if she lets it out, it will never end. It took nine months to bring life to those two perfect little boys- how many seconds did it take for the monsters from her nightmares to snuff it out?

Elwing has been a daughter without a mother. Now she is a mother without children. Now once more she is alone.

All is lost.

All but the jewel, and her.

A ragged sob bursts from her throat. Elwing gasps a breath, then with the last of her strength she spits onto the ground at Maglor's feet.

"May death take us both!", she cries.