Summary: The battle for Minas Tirith changed everyone's lives. And a small village is not an exception. A short look in the tragedy of war.

A/N: This story came to me while I was listening to "Close to the flame" by H.I.M. The biggest THANKS goes to Moralanqua who once resided on scribeoz dot com and who did the Beta Reading!

This story dates back to November, Year 2004. Oh, Ra! Didn't know I had some writings that old. In English, anyway.

Reviews will be most appreciated.

Disclaimer: I know it. You know it. We all know that The Lord Of The Rings belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien. If you have any problem with that – too bad, so sad. All of the human characters mentioned in this one ARE mine though.

Warnings: Violence and death.

Just Before The End Has Come

He whispered promises into her ear as they lay together. She kissed him, vowing to wait for his return when the war was over. Her husband embraced her, resting his head against her shoulder finally giving in to sleep. She smiled at the adorable sight of his light brown hair falling over his forehead.

Later into the night she was still awake and staring at the darkened ceiling. She listened to his peaceful breathing. Heavy thoughts dwelling on her mind would not let her fall asleep.

Somehow she knew that this was their last night together, and there would never be a tomorrow for them. She promised herself she would stay awake all night to say farewell; for in the morning, her beloved husband would march to probable death in the battle for Minas Tirith.

Allean could not explain how she knew. It was a sixth sense that told her - the end was nigh. When midnight's moon mocked her in the night sky and Gerion was long and deeply asleep, she silently wept into her pillow until dreaded slumber took her.

In her dreams, Allean was with Gerion. They were happy together and were enjoying the first months of their marriage; taking long walks in moonlit gardens, dancing at the Midsummer's feasting and sharing long sensual nights together.

Surely, she would not remember such sweet dreams by morning? There could only be a silent grief in her heart, a feeling of a great loss and an overwhelming sorrow for their unborn baby who would have to grow without a father.

Before the dawn had broken; Gerion soundlessly rose and lightly kissed his wife, before leaving their house in the small village Mil Andier, just 200 leagues from Minas Tirith. It was said that orcs would attack soon. On the doorstep he turned to take one final farewell glance. She was safe here. The village was very well hidden within the mountains. Gerion silently closed the door behind him, vowing that one day he would return.

When Allean awoke he was gone. She fought the urge to follow him, knowing that he was far away now and she would never reach him in time. She hesitated for a moment before running out of the house and turning left, where there was a shortcut through the garden to the stables. She did not make it so far...

A warg appeared from nowhere and attacked her. A scream of horror and despair echoed through the mountains as she was savaged.

Only a few leagues away, her beloved had met his own doom in a clash with Mordor's armies. Every warrior from Mil Andier had said his final farewell on that morning, war had begun sooner than any of them had realised.

The green grass was stained with blood, slowly soaked into the ground, proving once again that nothing was eternal. Maybe tomorrow a golden flower would grow to peer out and face the destruction, but for then, there was nothing more to see...

The End

Reviews will be most appreciated!