A/N: Okay…The idea for this was to write something exactly 200 words long. And it is, or so Microsoft Word tells me. I owe the title and inspiration to the musical “Wicked.” And Arda and its inhabitants are the property of the Tolkien estate.
Mourn the Wicked
Even before the beginning, I mourned.
I mourned this beautiful world, marred even as it was created. I mourned the discord and the tumult in our song; I mourned the freezing of our oceans, the destitution of the lands we had planned and labored over. I mourn the past, the present, and all that is to come. But most of all, I mourn for him.
He is to be pitied, and he is to be hated. He destroyed our music, he killed our earth, he toppled our lamps, and slaughtered our Trees. He brings the darkness with him. And for him, my heart breaks. For once, when all was the light of the All-Father, we – those called Valar – we were as brothers and sisters.
Perhaps I am foolish. Perhaps I should never have pleaded for him, should never have tried to find what he had been. Because He Who Arises in Might was gone.
I have cared for all of them, and I teach His children. I teach them to hope, to wait, to endure. To let tears become wisdom.
And oh, Melkor, I weep for you. For you, and what you were, and for the Everlasting Darkness.