A blood red dawn above the city of white by Eleniel  

A blood red dawn above the city of white

This was written for the LTC Microfic prompts for May.

Prompts used were:

Dreams, red dawn, Losgar, “as you wish”

Challenges for the month were:

100/200/300 words exactly, and first person POV

Smoke fills the air. Acrid. Suffocating. Billowing up as the fire spreads, licking the foundations of the tower. Everything lost in the dark haze as I push at the door. It doesn’t budge; whether it is because of the fire itself, or that inhaling the smoke is sapping any strength I have left, I do not know. But my vision darkens. That is the last I know.

I have thrown the covers away and am out of my bed before I even realize I have woken, gasping in fresh air. There are no flames licking my skin, no smoke threatening to suffocate me. It should be a relief, and yet there is something lingering in the back of my mind. A reminder of the distant red glow that had condemned us to the ice. A lingering fear of a looming threat. Which it is, I do not know.

A hand on my shoulder startles me, draws me back to the present; it is dark out, the moon’s light shining over a still-sleeping Gondolin. Tuor’s hands cup my cheeks, brush away the tears I had not known were falling. He draws our foreheads together, simply holds me, not speaking, until I have calmed.

“I am sorry to have woken you,” I whisper, grateful that Eärendil sleeps still. 

“A dream? Or more than that?” Tuor’s question is spoken softly, his eyes searching my face for an answer I don’t have. When he receives no response, he pulls back, kisses my forehead. “Come back to bed? We can speak with your father of your dream tomorrow?”

“As you wish.” I allow him to lead me back to bed, to a blissfully dreamless sleep.

Morning comes to a blood red dawn. To the air filled with screams and smoke. To the fall of Gondolin.