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1
Fanor

Good griefs freeing in mourning, he's maladroit, miserly consumptive. Fire and Spirit hot, dry splendor, he was ever for her brothers. Her tears he yoked, harnessed to machinery, to further further machinations. Then he burned terrifying, grief feeding grief to feed rage endlessly!

Fear the fire that fears subsiding.

But she sits at his hearth, stings his breast with regret until, maddened, he rives himself.

Fire fills that void, cracks him wide ends him early. Nienna lies amid the heat of his ashes, her blisters weeping.

But she will to Mandos, to his hearth again endlessly til patience overcome him

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