Unnumbered Tears: Prologue
It all seems so long ago, that day one year ago when first I saw him. He had come in answer to the call of the sons of Fëanor, the plea for Elves and Men, to take the offensive against Angband. It was just one short year ago, but we were all so different then. Hearts were glad and hopes were high, and we all believed that with a union so strong as this, we might regain our stolen lands.
Yesterday, we received the most terrible news. The entire host, crushed and scattered. Who can tell where my beloved is? Whether he is dead, or a prisoner, or — hope against hope — he lives, and is returning to me now! But no. Not to me. If he lives, he will return to his home in Hithlum, and forget me, and find some maiden of his own race to wed, or perhaps he will die of the plague that they say is spreading there.
Indeed, I deserve no more. For I betrayed him. I broke his heart. He will not ask me again. It is too late. Have I not heard the footsteps of doom approaching? Nearer and nearer they echo and re-echo around me. There is no escape for me now.