Henneth Annûn Story Archive

Edited to include the list of requests so far:

February 1st: Nessime - The month is also special in my Rohirric story's arc, particularly because of events that occur in Tolkien's canon. So my request is for something with either Théodred or Boromir - or both (but NOT slash, if you please). If Éomer somehow works his way into it, I won't object.

February 2nd: Loquacious - I will like a story about the Elessar, the stone, not the king, though the king may be included too.

February 5th: TZA - I'd either like a gap-filler about Eowyn that focuses on a different area than fanfics generally do and isn't dark and/or depressing or something involving Elfhelm.

February 8th: Elcalion - I'd like something Elven - especially 1st or 2nd age if anyone wants to write one.

February 13th: Maedhros - I will welcome whatever involving Maedhros or Celebrimbor. Did I mention I like angst? ;)

February 13th: Ithiliel Silverquill - I especially love Erestor and Glorfindel (not slash) and the sons of Fëanor. Come to think of it, anything with Elves is wonderful.

February 15th: Kenaz - I'd love something about Glorfindel and Ecthelion. Slash is acceptible but not required. All I ask is that it happens well before the fall of Gondolin. I don't want angst or balrogs on my birthday

February 17th: Mysterious jedi - If anyone feels like writing a Faramir and Aragorn friendship (definitely not slash) drabble, that would be really cool.

February 19th: Werecat: If anyone feels like writing a drabble for me, I'd like something that involves the animals of Middle Earth. (And what a surprise that was.)

Not necessarily cats, I'll take anything from squirrels to fell beasts. As long as it does not involve any animal cruelty, that is. Fell beasts need a hug too.

---

TZA's Original Post:

Because it's that time of the year.

My birthday is February 5th, and I'd either like a gap-filler about Eowyn that focuses on a different area than fanfics generally do and isn't dark and/or depressing or something involving Elfhelm.

 

Mine's the 1st of February, and the month is also special in my Rohirric story's arc, particularly because of events that occur in Tolkien's canon. So my request is for something with either Théodred or Boromir - or both (but NOT slash, if you please). If Éomer somehow works his way into it, I won't object. ~Nessime

 

Mine's the 8th of Feb, and I'd like something Elven - especially 1st or 2nd age if anyone wants to write one.

 

Mine's the 13th of Feb and will welcome whatever involving Maedhros or Celebrimbor. Did I mention I like angst? ;)

 

Hi all! If anyone feels like writing a drabble for me, I'd like something that involves the animals of Middle Earth. (And what a surprise that was.) Not necessarily cats, I'll take anything from squirrels to fell beasts. As long as it does not involve any animal cruelty, that is. Fell beasts need a hug too. My birthday is on February 19th. Thanks, Werecat

 

Hi, My birthday is February 2nd. I will like a story about the Elessar, the stone, not the king, though the king may be included too. ~Loqi

 

Happy Birthday Maedhros, and hope you like it. Here goes: my first ever drabble! "The Bitter End" I stand alone before the door, hemmed by darkness. My blade dances through the air in a dream; my eyes fill with the past I see… The waves crimson with guilt; hear the wails of the dying cleaving the air. White ships writhe and collapse in flame… My pride and passion: Fire Water Air A shaft of sunlight lances through the shadowed sky, burnishing the blood pooling at my feet, mocking me; they are lost to me, though I burn with longing. Silver fist reaches vainly for golden band, and the dreamer falls. I drown in a sea of orcs. It's supposed to be Celebrimbor's last stand in front of the House of the Mirdain in Ost-in-Edhil, as Sauron invades Eregion. The reference is to the Kinslaying at Alqualonde - while I can't find any details of Celebrimbor's age, I think it likely that he was born in Aman and was present at the Kinslaying. I've never tried writing angst, but enjoy angsty shows (eg Dawson's Creek) so I've tried my best! Again, hope you enjoyed it, and my first attempt at drabbling wasn't TOO bad to read! Elcalion

 

My birthday is February 17th, and if anyone feels like writing a Faramir and Aragorn friendship (definitely not slash) drabble, that would be really cool.

 

Sun moves over the mountain mead. Squeaken sits carefully, nut in hand. What is that shadow, coming over the horizon? It is no horse, for horses don't move silently. Gothmog scans the slopes below, seeing in the accursed sunlight. Where is the halfling? He senses the ring's power. What is that, the speck down below? Suddenly, from behind, a crashing. Squeaken moves out of the way, quickly. What's this? They look like men, but shorter. He has not heard or seen them. He scampers up the trees. The dwimmerlaik moves gracefully for its kind, powerful wings unfolding in a rapture of sheer physical strength. As his master steers him homeward, the squirrel watches, wondering. Hope ya like it! It's even proofread!

 

Meluiel-- I love squirrels and think this is great, but I have to admit that I wanted Squeaken to pelt Gothmog with acorns, distracting him while the hobbits escape. Branwyn

 

Hi, Meluiel! Thank you so much for this lovely treat! I already love Squeaken! Do you suppose he'd consider coming to play with my stories' cats? Thank you for making me smile. You really warmed my heart. Werecat

 

Werecat-- Happy Birthday, a little early! I meant to write about the black squirrels of Mirkwood, but this showed up instead. Branwyn Gifts of the Forest The dull thud of hoofs and cold jangle of harness had long since receded. The forest was still except for the measured dripping of rain; while high above their heads, a squirrel rustled softly in the chestnut tree. Their daggers had been taken, so the boy had to strike the rough stone against a steel buckle instead. Crouched over the tinder, he scraped until his hands were bleeding and numb. At last, the heap of twigs seethed with yellow flames. His younger brother, his face likewise pale under smudges of dirt, returned with fallen wood from the forest floor. Once the fire burned steadily, they knelt beside it to warm their hands. Suddenly, the smaller child looked up, glancing wildly at the encircling trees. Eyes dark with fear, he stared at his brother. "Elured, there is naught to eat; we will starve." Silence except for the silver dripping of water. Steadfastly fighting his tears, the elder brother bowed his head. From a low-hanging branch, the squirrel chattered and flicked her tail, as if to scold these strange, furless kits; then she scampered aloft. A chestnut, glossy-shelled and heavy with its starchy meat, fell and rolled to rest at their feet. ******* …Dior was slain also, and Nimloth his wife, and the cruel servants of Celegorm seized his young sons and left them to starve in the forest. Of this Maedhros indeed repented, and sought for them long in the woods of Doriath; but his search was unavailing, and of the fate of Elured and Elurin no tale tells. The Silmarillion. [Edit: And, after many edits, I think this is done. ]

 

Hullo, TZA! Looks like folks are jumping the gun on February birthdays! Ever one to cave easily to peer pressure, here's my contribution. The Birth of Elfwine “ ‘Tis a son!” our young king bellows, waking the hall with the exuberance of the cry. He would not be hustled away to drink alone during the birth, no, not our king! He stayed through it all, wide-eyed though pale, squeezing our lady’s hand; and caught the gasping, howling boy himself, to our chagrin and great delight. “A son, a son, a son!” Riders, farriers, and scullery maids gather laughing in the stableyard to wet the baby’s head. Our grey-eyed sea-queen sleeps, smiling, while the king breaks out the mead; then dispatches our very fastest riders off to Ithilien. ~~~ Have a wonderful day! Ann

 

Very full of life and joy, like Eomer and postwar Rohan. Those first children born in the years soon after the end of Saruman and Sauron, must have been greeted with special excitement; and a King's heir was more exciting than most. I liked how Lothiriel seemed to be held in affection as well; the epithet of "grey-eyed sea-queen" is lovely. Perhaps the Rohirrim were especially proud of their exotic and high-Numenorean young Queen. JRRT mentioned, in either HoME or LETTERs, that Elfwine physically resembled Prince Imrahil quite a bit; wonder how the Rohirrim reacted to having a dark-haired future king? I didn't understand what is meant by wetting the baby's head - were they toasting the child's birth? RAKSHA THE DEMON

 

"Gifts of the Forest The dull thud of hoofs, the cold jangle of harness had long since receded. The forest was still except for the measured dripping of rain; while high above their heads, a squirrel rustled softly in the chestnut tree. The enemy had taken their daggers, so the boy had to strike the rough stone against a steel belt buckle instead. Crouched over the tinder, he scraped until his hands were numb and bleeding. At last, the heap of dry twigs seethed with yellow flames. His twin brother, his face pale under smudges of dirt, returned with fallen wood from the forest floor. Once the fire burned steadily, they knelt beside it to warm their hands. Suddenly, one of the boys glanced around at the encircling trees. Eyes dark with fear, he stared at his brother. "Elured, there is naught to eat; we will starve." Silence except for the silver dripping of water. Steadfastly fighting his tears, the other bowed his head. From a low-hanging branch, the squirrel chattered and flicked her tail, as if to scold these strange, furless kits; then she scampered aloft. A chestnut, glossy-shelled and heavy with its starchy meat, fell and rolled to rest at their feet. ******* …Dior was slain also, and Nimloth his wife, and the cruel servants of Celegorm seized his young sons and left them to starve in the forest. Of this Maedhros indeed repented, and sought for them long in the woods of Doriath; but his search was unavailing, and of the fate of Elured and Elurin no tale tells. The Silmarillion." Oh, the poor little kids; alone in the woods and it's raining and they know they're going to starve to death. I like to think that Elured and Elurin found a way to survive, and, fleeing Maedhros (they would probably have been terrified of him), travelled somewhere far away from jewel-hungry Noldor and lived quietly but safely. Love the cheeky squirrel! RAKSHA THE DEMON

 

I loved this, Ann! Like Raksha said, it is so full of joy and life, I'm just smiling at it. Amazing how much you can say in only 100 words :-) Thank you! Starlight

 

Nessime said The month is also special in my Rohirric story's arc, particularly because of events that occur in Tolkien's canon. So my request is for something with either Théodred or Boromir - or both (but NOT slash, if you please). If Éomer somehow works his way into it, I won't object. Mostly Boromir, Éomer's POV and a look at those similarities between Théodred or Boromir I know fascinate you. Happy Birthday! More like to the swift sons of Eorl I thought no man could rival my cousin, until the Steward’s Heir came to discuss the raids across the river and see our defences for himself. They were a matched pair, wheeling away from the éored to race their horses across the wold, laughing. At night, as sparks wheeled upwards, our dark-haired friend exchanged tales of valour, sang his songs and listened to ours, toasted old heroes and drank to new exploits. When we faced the orcs at last, his horn joined our music; his blade wrought skilful havoc. Saruman’s treachery robbed both our lands of their brightest and best. Cheers, Liz

 

Hello, Raksha, and many thanks! I didn't understand what is meant by wetting the baby's head - were they toasting the child's birth? Exactly! I don't know where I first read of the expression; probably somewhere in the Norah Lofts or Victoria Holt or Catherine Cookson vaults where the reading materials of my misspent youth are stored. I've always liked the expression, though, and this just seemed like a perfect spot for it. Perhaps the Rohirrim were especially proud of their exotic and high-Numenorean young Queen. A gorgeous couple. What's not to love? Ann

 

Thanks, Starlight! It was a pleasure to write. They're my new favorite couple. Ann

 

Hello Liz: What a lovely vision of Boromir, almost at ease, enjoying the company of his closest peer. I'd love to read more of this friendship - is that what you are working on , Nessime? Can't wait! Ann

 

Oh. Liz...! Thank you. I had to read it over and over again, just to absorb all the details. It does echo Éomer's words to Aragorn, and more. I can picture them together, just as you wrote. Thank you. ~Nessime

 

I'd love to read more of this friendship - is that what you are working on...?

Not a story specific to their friendship. But in writing about my OC (OFC to be precise) I have also explored many of the correlations between Éomer and Faramir, which includes the many links between Théodred and Boromir - and Boromir is of an age with Théodred (and *almost* the same as my quasi-canonical male charcter, Gárulf). While my story is essentially about her life (and the life of Gárulf that Tolkien didn't give us), she is essentially a witness to all that takes place in the years leading up to the conflict between Rohan and Saruman, and naturally, the War of the Ring. And that includes interactions with many of the canon characters (to whom I'm trying not to do any violence, attempting to add details that Tolkien left out without altering the original). Unfortunately it's still very much a WiP - though I'm hoping to complete it more quickly than the Professor did LotR. ~Nessime

 

Nessime, Ann, I'm so glad you liked it. I was almost tempted to write a whole vignette about this entirely invented episode! I can very much see Boromir being in his element here: doing all the stuff he enjoys most and enjoying the company in a nice uncomplicated way, without all that tricksy Gondorian court politics. Hope you have a good day, Nessime! Cheers, Liz

 

Hi Loqi. I will like a story about the Elessar, the stone, not the king, though the king may be included too. Your prompt got me thinking: I just couldn’t work out why Arwen took such a convoluted approach to giving the Elessar to Aragorn. Why give it to Galadriel, who might not see Aragorn for years and years, when Arwen would very likely see him in Rivendell regularly? Eventually I hit on a solution, thanks to the oh-so-helpful HASA Resources library entry on the Elessar. It’s a pretty crazy solution, but there is a kind of logic to it… I think. Happy Birthday! Details “Is there not a prophecy?" my granddaughter asked me, after she received it from her mother. "That we will pass the stone to one who will bear its name?" I told her Olórin's words. Years later, she came and thrust it at me. “You must take it back, you must,” she pleaded. I did not understand what troubled her, though she returned Olórin’s words to me, over and over: You shall hand it on when the time comes. “You, you, you!” she cried at last. “Not me. You. It is the prophecy. And Aragorn is the one. He must be.” Cheers, Liz

 

Liz, I was mulling over Loqi's request too, but this spin on the reason why it was Galadriel and not Arwen herself who gave it to Aragorn hadn't occured to me. Very clever - and quite logical. Nicely done. :-) ~Nessime

 

Mine's the 1st of February, Happy birthday to you. I still owe you that ruffians drabble I owe you from last year, and I have an idea or two. So you *may* get another one, but no promises. and the month is also special in my Rohirric story's arc, particularly because of events that occur in Tolkien's canon. I think I know the events you're referring to, but why is it significant? Now you have me curious. So my request is for something with either Théodred or Boromir - or both (but NOT slash, if you please). If Éomer somehow works his way into it, I won't object. All three. And no slash, on any of their part. Someone once said that not enough was written about the hearing of Boromir's horn in Gondor. (I think it might have been Dwim in her comments for last year's Middle-earth Fanfiction Awards, but I'm not sure.) Even then the thought occurred to me that *nothing* (to my knowledge) had been written in fanfic about the hearing of the horn in *Rohan*. And yet it almost certainly was heard there. So here is a drabble-sized (well, drabble-and-a-half-sized) moment, involving Eomer, Theodred, and Boromir's horn. ***** A Call on the Wind The horn’s blast split the crisp dusk air, like a dwarf’s axe cleaving a first-year sapling. He remembered that sound. Always before setting forth Boromir of Gondor sounded his horn, if his rider’s gossip could be trusted. Eomer thought that vain and proud, but brave -- all of which fitted the marshal’s impression of the Captain-General from the short time they had spent together last summer. The horse had returned riderless, and his cousin throught Boromir dead. A new enemy stirred near Isengard. Theodred was often called to lead his men in skirmishes there, risking his own life and theirs to defend the Fords of Isen. But Boromir’s horn sounded from the east. The horse had returned riderless, but the rider had survived -- for a while, at least. Hope, like a flame, flickers in the breeze -- but it it defies the night and the wind does not blow it out. Not yet. ***** Marta (PSI- I envision this being the dusk after Boromir dies. I Ihave no idea how far Amon Hen is from wherever in Rohan that Eomer would be in at this point in the story, but I don't guess it could take much longer than that. Artist's license, if you will. Theodred is of course also dead, but I don't think Eomer could know that yet.)

 

I wouldn't say it was much of a drabble - but it is *exactly* 100 words *grin* and it is happy - ish. The story they wnated to tell was clearly never going to fit in a drabble *and* it started with Boromir throwing up and was not at all cheerful. ;-) Once I'd rejected that I knew I had to get them involved with a river because that's another link between them and their deaths. ********************** The sun caught in the water ripples and echoed back in dancing lines of light. From the far side of the river, a hidden bird sent showers of gleaming notes across the slow flowing water. With joyful abandon, Boromir peeled off his clothes and cast them on the grass. “Théodred, come on!” “Patience, princeling,” said Théodred with a smile, draping the last of his clothes on a sun-warmed rock – and then yelped as a two large handfuls of water hit him. With a rush they were both in the water, washing away the stains of blood and battle and death. ****************** Happiest of birthdays, my dear friend. Avon

 

Wow, Avon! Your story begins with lovely word-pictures of sunlight on water and the music of birdsong, then moves on to Boromir peeling off his clothes... What's not to love about that first paragraph? Nessime, you're a lucky girl! Happy birthday! Ann

 

Oh, what a beautiful image! What a great start for the day. I *loved* this: “Patience, princeling,” said Théodred with a smile... It's so revealing of the friendship they shared. Thanks! Starlight P.S. I'm sure Nessime will be so happy with this :-)

 

 

I hope you have a very, very happy day today. Please know we are thinking about you, and wishing you the best :-) I wrote two drabbles, hoping I could get to a happier place. I hope you enjoy them. Have a great day, dear friend! Starlight *** We fight... Eomer had just unsaddled Firefoot when a familiar hand rested on his forearm. “A lord of Gondor is here,” Eowyn said, her voice belying the distress betrayed by her touch. “Which lord of Gondor?” “Boromir. He is with Theodred now.” She shook her head at the grin that spread across his face. “What grieves you, sister? Surely Theodred will cherish this visit, though the times be dark.” “No,” she cried. “He’s lost his horse.” Her look mirrored his own. Losing a horse… naught was worse. He rushed toward Meduseld. Not Boromir! A horse would be found... fate would spare him... *** ''Your news is all of woe!' cried Éomer in dismay. 'Great harm is this death to Minas Tirith, and to us all. That was a worthy man! All spoke his praise. He came seldom to the Mark, for he was ever in the wars on the East-borders; but I have seen him. More like to the swift sons of Eorl than to the grave Men of Gondor he seemed to me, and likely to prove a great captain of his people when his time came." The Riders of Rohan - TTT

 

Here's part II. I guess you could say it's a sequel of sorts. *** ... That hope may live The sun sank on the fords, staining the grasses of red once more. Beside him she stood, pretending strength, but he’d felt on his shirt the dampness of tears. ‘My cousin said there was no braver man.’ She squeezed his hand. ‘Your cousin,’ he said, ‘was as brave as I’ve seen. He was bold, strong, yet friendly, compassionate; a stern captain, yet understanding. Despite his station, he never looked anyone down. Your cousin was a hero… like mine.’ ‘We have no grave…’ ‘That, Thiri, might be a blessing.’ Then Elfwine stirred in his mother’s arms. Their cousins’ hope lived on. *** Hugs, Starlight

 

A Call on the Wind... Lovely imagery throughout, Marta. I don't know how far Amon Hen is from where Éomer would be when Boromir's horn sounded either, tho' I know that the scouts who reported the Uruks' descent of the East Wall could have heard it. Ah! the joys of being a research geek! _{*this following a quick perusal of the LotR text. *g*} Marta, your instincts are excellent, or else somewhere in the recesses of your memory these lines were locked away, guiding you as you wrote:

'That horn the eldest son of our house has borne for many generations; and it is said that if it be blown at need anywhere within the bounds of Gondor, as the realm was of old, its voice will not pass unheeded.* 'Five days ere I set out on this venture, eleven days ago at about this hour of the day, I heard the blowing of that horn: from the northward it seemed, but dim, as if it were but an echo in the mind...' (Faramir to Frodo & Sam in The Window on the West, Chapter V of LotR: TTT) _{*emphasis mine}

Ergo, if it is artistic license, you have the authority of the author himself to employ it here. Éomer in particular would have heard it (perhaps not unlike Faramir), he being of the House of Eorl, sworn to come to Gondor's aid. Thank you, Marta. (((hugs))) You've brought fresh light to yet another link between Gondor and Rohan, and added to my own story's arc. I am fortunate indeed. ~Nessime

 

Ooo... Your words, as always, paint a wonderful scene - and evoke a sense of poignancy: ...washing away the stains of blood and battle and death. Thank you, Avon. ~Nessime PS - I like Théodred's remark, "Patience, princeling." It could constitute either a playful teasing of a peer, or a subtle rebuke of one who felt too strongly the lack of a crown upon his own father's head - or perhaps a bit of both. Addendum: there is more than a hint of another dear friend here: ...a hidden bird sent showers of gleaming notes across the slow flowing water. Brings back memories of other playful times - _{and certain playful limericks} ~N.

 

Mine's Feb. 15th... I'd love something about Glorfindel and Ecthelion. Slash is acceptible but not required. All I ask is that it happens well before the fall of Gondolin. I don't want angst or balrogs on my birthday

 

Losing a horse… naught was worse. Ah, Starlight! You have the heart of one of the Rohirrim. I've often wondered what reason Tolkien himself had in mind for the loan of that horse. There have been a number of ideas offered in fanfic: that the horses of Rohan were stronger and swifter than those of Gondor is one such idea. Now you have me curious to know how Boromir lost the horse on which he set out from Minas Tirith - *do I sense a story behind this? ~Nessime

 

This is such a poignant moment, Marta. I like so many things about it, but mostly I love your precise use of words here. Each word counts and is strong in itself. Like: The horn’s blast split the crisp dusk air... Even your choice of title is interesting and insightful. I love it! I particularly liked your ending. Reading about these events never fails to make me sad. By ending in a hopeful note you've made us realize there's always hope. Thanks, Starlight

 

Addendum: there is more than a hint of another dear friend here: ...a hidden bird sent showers of gleaming notes across the slow flowing water. Brings back memories of other playful times - and certain playful limericks ~N. Oh yes, the bird is there for that reason ;-) Avon

 

Happy Bithday, Nessime. I had a look through my copy of Unfinished Tales and managed to come up with something with Théodred in! (although I seem to be having punctuation issues with it). The Fords of Isen I will not fail my people: we will hold the Fords, though it seems I am more important to Saruman. His orcs would have killed me if Grimbold was not here. He thinks me dead but I cannot be, I am needed. I can no longer move, yet I can still think, worry about my cousin's life and whether they will slay him next. When I feel hands on me, I speak to those I can barely see, "Let me lie here - to keep the Fords till Éomer comes!" I need to say more but I haven't the time. Note: Théodred's last lines from The Battles of the Fords of Isen, Unfinished Tales Nic

 

*shyly raises her hand* My birthday is February 13th. I especially love Erestor and Glorfindel (not slash) and the sons of Fëanor. Come to think of it, anything with Elves is wonderful. And I have a quick question: do you wait until the person's birthday exactly to post a birthday card? -Ithiliel

 

And I have a quick question: do you wait until the person's birthday exactly to post a birthday card? My opinion is: strike when the inspiration is hot! I can't imagine that any birthday-person would mind getting a lovely present early or late ... it just extends the fun! - Barbara, who's trying to coax her drabble muse out of a months-long swoon...

 

A Call on the Wind This is just lovely, Marta! I like the fact that it ends on a hopeful note ... I always thought it terribly sad that help didn't arrive in time for Boromir... - Barbara P.S. Denethor heard the call in Minas Tirith, so I don't think there's any problem with assuming that Éomer heard it in Eastfold...

 

For the only person I've ever met who has the same birthday that I do. This one bit me hard as I read the thread today, and I knew that if I didn't go ahead and post it, I would probably forget. It's 100 words exactly, as long as you don't count the title. So happy (early) birthday, Maedhros! ~ Fire Like This I have never known fire like this. I have known pain’s fire: even a lost hand burns. I have known pride’s fire: the flames consumed Alqualondë. I have known passion’s fire: I swore a terrible oath. I have known Father’s fire: it burns my spirit as well. But I have never known fire like this. Pain’s fire taught me to be strong. Pride’s fire taught me that hatred consumes without thought. Passion’s fire taught me that reason does not forgive zeal. Father’s fire taught me to be perfect. The Jewel’s fire teaches me that I will never be perfect again. ~ P.S.: Thanks, Barbara! Good luck with your drabble muse...

 

Ithiliel, wow! That was lovely. The parallel repetitions made for a very powerful read. Welcome to HASA and congratulations on being bitten by your first nuzgûl!

 

Fire Like This Wow! Ithiliel, that is so eloquent! (But when I said "strike when the inspiration is hot..." I didn't expect to be taken quite so ... literally... ) Is that your first drabble? I'm impressed! I hope you share many more with us lucky folk in the future! - Barbara

 

To all the other Rohirrim drabblists... Nessime should feel honoured indeed. I know I’ve been enjoying them all. (And *sigh* they’ve gotten my creative juices flowing. I have started a longer Rohan-centric piece.) Barbara: This is just lovely, Marta! I like the fact that it ends on a hopeful note ... I always thought it terribly sad that help didn't arrive in time for Boromir... Yes, I know! It always breaks my heart. (And, similarly, that Theodred also was beyond help. The parallel between those deaths has always fascinated me.) P.S. Denethor heard the call in Minas Tirith, so I don't think there's any problem with assuming that Éomer heard it in Eastfold... I remembered about Denethor, and Faramir’s comment that Nessime quoted. And I think a horn blast travelling from Amon Hen to Gondor would most certainly have to skirt Rohan, if not crossing it - and that’s assume it’s travelling in a straight line, not radiating elsewhere. The artist’s license I was concerned about was *when* Eomer would have heard. Starlight This is such a poignant moment, Marta. Thanks, Starlight! I’m glad you enjoyed it; I certainly love reading it. I like so many things about it, but mostly I love your precise use of words here. Each word counts and is strong in itself. Like: The horn’s blast split the crisp dusk air... “Blame” it on my drabbles told from one sense only; I really enjoy playing with those sensory descriptions. Even your choice of title is interesting and insightful. I love it! Thanks again. I imagine hearing a horn-call from so far away would seem like a phantom, an echo. Kind of like hope at this point (and doubly so when he learns of Theodred’s death. Someone really should write a drabble series about Eomer’s experiences around this time: hearing the horn, learning of Theodred’s death, deciding to pursue the orcs, killing the orc-captain, encountering the Three Hunters, being imprisoned, being released from prison, seeing Theoden healed. It would be quite an interesting arc. I particularly liked your ending. Reading about these events never fails to make me sad. By ending in a hopeful note you've made us realize there's always hope. This seems to be a recurrent theme of mine: hope lost and rekindled. I’ve loved writing it in the past (most noticeably in my “Hope Rekindled” vignette). Hope’s a very important thing, and never moreso than in dark times when we should lose hope but somehow manage not to. I want to work with this idea more in the future; it’s a very interesting one. Nessime Lovely imagery throughout, Marta. I owe much of that skill to you. I remember your patience working on that “Ride of the Rohirrim” drabble (back when we were drabbling RotK... I think that was the chapter. The one where Merry sees Theoden and compares him to Orome, when they first arrive on the Pelennor (ah, that passage... that passage... be still my heart. I don’t know what it is, but it alsways makes me cry.)) Anyway, that was what set me on the road to drabbling, and I don’t know that I’ve ever properly thanked you. Thank you, Marta. (((hugs))) You've brought fresh light to yet another link between Gondor and Rohan, and added to my own story's arc. I am fortunate indeed. Oh? How do you see this playing into the Edrys story? (Feel free to reply privately if you don’t want to give it away, or keep me waiting. Either way. Marta

 

Thank you both so, so much! Actually, it's my second drabble ever. (I never did anything with the first one.) These things are addictive. *rubs her ankle* Those Nuzgûl are ferocious little creatures... Thank you both, again! -Ithiliel

 

Someone really should write a drabble series about Eomer’s experiences around this time: hearing the horn, learning of Theodred’s death, deciding to pursue the orcs, killing the orc-captain, encountering the Three Hunters, being imprisoned, being released from prison, seeing Theoden healed. It would be quite an interesting arc. Well, *cough* unfortunately (or maybe fortunately...) my drabble muse is, er, dormant, but for any of you who might be inspired by Marta's nuzgûl, I added most of the events she mentions to the Resources Library recently... you can find a pointer to most of them here: Attack on the Orc-raiders at Fangorn: Overview. I'm currently working on the events surrounding the Invasion of Westfold by Saruman, so I'll be adding more related events soon... (end of SSP... ) - Barbara

 

Mine's the 1st of February, and the month is also special in my Rohirric story's arc, particularly because of events that occur in Tolkien's canon. So my request is for something with either Théodred or Boromir - or both (but NOT slash, if you please). If Éomer somehow works his way into it, I won't object. ~Nessime For my lady Nessime, as requested: ~*~ He saw them together but rarely, dark son of Gondor and golden scion of Rohan. Bold laughter, confident tread, a clasp of brotherly hands; a stripling lad watched in silent admiration his cousin and their noble guest. Heroes walked the living land, and he saw kinship in their long, panther strides. Likely Boromir did not much heed the coltish awestruck youth who followed ever close at Théodred's heels. But the boy grew to warrior and man, and he noted them well, king's heir and steward's son. He noted, and within the turn of a single moon, he mourned them both. ~*~ Ed. note: It is not merry, but it is what that threesome gave my muses to say. I hope your day was blessed and joyful! Cheers ~ Erin

 

Ithiliel, that just so wonderful! Clearly you need to drabble more! Avon PS: In drabbles you can have up to 15 words for the title plus your hundred words.

 

Ed. note: It is not merry, but it is what that threesome gave my muses to say. Beautiful, Erin! No, not merry, but it makes up for that by introducing the lovely vision of Éomer as stripped, er, um, a stripling... - Barbara

 

Happy Birthday, Nessime! I too am very familiar with those February events, so I couldn't resist this one. Heirs of the Oath Deep night reigned outside the firelit hall, the king long since retired, yet still the Steward’s heir held forth, tale following song in the warm companionship of ale. Eomer sat spellbound with the rest, entranced by this vivid guest. Theodred, beside him, watched with enjoyment also, yet Eomer sensed in his cousin reserve, observation rather than revelry. “Why so thoughtful, brother? Tonight is for merriment!” Theodred smiled, eyes still on Boromir. “Someday we shall stand as Cirion and Eorl to each other, he and I. I would know the measure of the man to whom I will give my oath.” * * * The name of Eru echoed through the silence, as once before in this holy place. Elessar stood wreathed in flames of setting sun, oath renewed forever. Then he descended from the star-flowered mound, and in twilight the two kings and their companions made their way down the stair. Once withdrawn far enough speech no longer seemed desecration, Aragorn turned to Eomer. “Now we stand as Cirion and Eorl to each other. May we always prove faithful heirs to their friendship.” Eomer nodded, mute. Heirs also to two others, who never stood thus. To them also may we prove ever faithful. Elana

 

We've reached the magic 50 posts! Please continue posting drabbles in the new thread. Allie

 

Thank you, Avon! And thanks for the information... I knew that there was something about fifteen words for the title, but I wasn't sure whether or not it counted as a part of the hundred words. I haven't been counting it. Thank you so much! I think I will be writing more drabbles... these things are extremely addictive! -Ithiliel Edit: whoops, wrong thread... sorry! Will go post this in the other thread now...

 

Heirs of the Oath Oh, my, Elana -- that gave me goosebumps and brought tears to my eyes! - Barbara

 

I know there's a new thread, but I just wanted to post a brief - and unfortunately, on the fly - thank you to those whose drabbles I haven't yet had a chance to reply to. I will do so in the new thread a bit later. Meanwhile, thank you all for helping to make my day so special. ((hugs))) & Appreciatively, ~Nessime Addendum: further remarks can be seen here: Message 37472

 

Oh, that made me shiver! Beautifully done!

 

Ahem, I hope it´s not too late already . My b-day is the 18th. If it´s not too much work and someone might feel up to it, I would very much appreciate something/anything Faramir-ish and none-moody/not sad. If it also happen to sport Boromir or Aragorn, even better ;) Thank you muchly!

 

I'll post this in the second thread. RiverOtter Co Challenges Manager

 

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