Henneth Annûn Story Archive

Exactly a month late-- Happy Belated Birthday, Imhiriel! I hope it was a nice birthday, and sorry my little offering is so incredibly late. It's not particularly beautiful, but at least it has Ithilien in it ;-) Thanks for all your work in the forums!

"Why does your silence always say so much?" Isildur asked, skipping a pebble. "Why still afraid? He is gone!"

"Maybe, but not the strife he bred, as you have lately seen. Unless that wound is a farce?"

Isildur looked away.

"And you would build here, where his minions still lurk?"

"I wonder what they call these springs?" Isildur asked, stooping as a bluejay flew above him. "Listen. You, more than anyone, should know how evil festers unless fought."

"I had wished the fighting over."

"We can either cower and let it spread. Or uproot it. Which will it be?"

Elendil was the High King and dwelt in the North at Annúminas; and the rule in the South was committed to his sons, Isildur and Anárion. They founded there Osgiliath, between Minas Ithil and Minas Anor, not far from the confines of Mordor." (The Lord of the Rings, Appendix A: Annals of the Kings and Rulers)

I have an old one that was a complete wreck when I first posted it, but I've gone back, gutted the thing, and given it a shiny remodel. The old story went under the name "Foul Dips Into Fair," but that was back in me olde days, when I tried to insert a tryst in every other fanfiction I wrote.

This newish one is called When Fair Crosses Foul. It's basically the same story but far-improved, thanks to my finally researching the Tolkien legendarium. When I looked back at the old story, I thought: "My heavens, how old was I when I wrote this?"

So now, the elf-warrior is more in-character. The reader receives expanded insight into the mind of my anti-hero. Most of all, my Elvish, though still scant, is markedly improved.

Glad you enjoyed it, Imhiriel- and who knows, perhaps next year will see a happier tale, eh?

Possibly not the good or happy or beautiful that was asked for... but I hope you will accept this fic and my apologies for its lateness anyway, Imhiriel.

You could say that ! On the other hand, it was beautifully spooky ! And when I have this idea of a beautiful Doriath in my mind (for example the one Nath gifted me with), the shudder-inducing effect of the scene you painted is even greater. So I thank you very muchfor that wonderful juxtaposition, Aruthir, and for giving me such a rare and different PoV of Doriath.

Imhiriel

I thiiiink I got all the links updated and correct by now, but if you spot any mistakes, please let me know!

Birthday folks: Is your birthday in February and you would be delighted by a little story gift from your fellow HASA members? Then state your request here in this thread. Create a birthday workshop story to collect your birthday cards in one place, and enter it into the 2012 Birthhday Cards Challenge.

Authors: Let yourselves get inspired by the suggestions - a chance to be creative and to make a fellow HASA member happy at the same time! And don't forget to add your birthday cards to the birthday workshop story the recipient of your birthday card has - hopefully - created.

In case you need help or have a comment, question or suggestion, please post it here or send me an e-mail - I'll do my best to help.

Many thanks for the story, Nath- just the sort of think to have me checking the clouds!

I must admit that I didn't write this story for this challenge, but then I also didn't set the Challenge to match the story Nevertheless, a happy coincidence, and my entry for this month is A brief doubt

Happy birthday, and apologies that this is late, but the muse was hiding from the rain...

Snow. She just couldn't like it, no matter how pretty it looked in the sunlight.

"Come out here, mother! It's fun!" her daughter called, waving to her.

No. She did not mind them playing, but they would have just as much fun without her. Likely the memory of the Grinding Ice coloured her perceptions, yet she had no desire to confront this particular dislike. Yet it felt churlish to stay inside as her husband and daughter frolicked in the freshly-fallen snow.

Again, an insistent wave and a call to join them.

With a sigh, Galadriel gave in and went outside.

Glad you enjoyed the story, Jay!

Poor Gimli - how different the elven flets must be to the caves and caverns of his home.  And they didn't even leave him his axe!  (Though that might be a good idea if he decided to battle the Balrog in his dreams ...)

The opening line is lovely - so atmospheric:  a moon bruised by treetops.   Thank you, Aruthir!!