Empty by StarSpray

Empty

On moonless nights when he could not sleep, Finrod wandered. On this night he found himself in a dusty wing of the palace, untouched for decades, where once boisterous and merry dinners had been held, Finwë at the head of the table and all his children and grandchildren in rows down each side. Finrod walked up the table, trailing his fingers over the empty chairs, coming away smeared with dust. More of it danced in the starlight coming through the windows. His footsteps rang hollow on the marble floor in the otherwise silent room. 

His father was away at war. His uncles, his brothers, and his cousins were dead, every one, and he did not know what had become of Galadriel. And for what? All their deeds had ended in grief.

Tirion was nearly empty, too quiet, as his dreams were too loud, full of snarling wolves and roaring flames.