Gondor stands against the Eye in the East. Yet in the White City, the Sovereign keeps an advisor of black veils beside the throne.



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"Let your captains shout of war and ruin, my King. Their blood is hot, but their minds are small. They cannot comprehend the crushing weight of your crown. Here, with me... you need not cloak your demons. Hush, now. Hand me your burdens."

✶ ⋆。°✩


A Tolkien dark tale set late in the Third Age, just before the fall of the Line of Kings (circa T.A. 2000 - 2050).

Themes:

Psychological Horror | Gothic Dark Fantasy | Parasitic Romance | Court Intrigue | Slow-Burn Manipulation

The Line of Anárion is failing.

Minas Ithil has just fallen and been renamed Minas Morgul (T.A. 2002).

The Palantír of that tower was captured by Sauron.

Gondor is slipping into a deep, paranoid gloom.

The grandeur is fading.

Gondor is the perfect Gothic backdrop: empty halls, echoing courtyards, and a ruler burdened by a failing lineage.

In the echoing, cavernous halls of the White City, the throne grows colder by the day. Your lords clamor for action against the gathering dark in the East. Paranoia rots the court from the inside out. You are the Ruler of Gondor, besieged by expectations, suffocating under the legacy of your ancestors, and profoundly, utterly alone.

Then, she appears.

She calls herself Shelena. She glides on the marble floor, soundless as a shadow stretching in the dusk. Her eyes hold the pale, deadly fire of ancient, lightless things, and her voice is the soft rustle of lace silk.

Your court whisper that she is a spy for the Eye in the East.

If only they knew how little they know...