Henneth Annûn Story Archive

Whee, we've expanded yet again!

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.

February18th: Taunuswolf - 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 ;)

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.

 

To start things off, here's another triple-drabble special! For Maedhros: (With trepidation, since I just finished Silm for the first time and am not very confident about working with early Elves yet.) Oaths My hand trembles, and I cannot touch the lifeless hroä that is all that remains of the one I loved above all. Shame consumes me. It is my fault. I fled. The words echo in my heart. I, Nelyafinwë, son of Nerdanel and Fëanor, scion of the House of Finwë, fled like a frightened rabbit before the Darkness. I fled, and left my lord to stand alone. I fled, and now my beloved grandfather lies dead. I close my eyes against the pain. “Forgive me,” I manage to whisper. “I will not let cowardice rule me again. I swear it.” For Ithiliel Silverquill: In the End “So he loses her at last. And the twins still refuse to make their choice?” Glorfindel nods soberly. “Elrond will sail alone.” “Not alone.” My shoulders straighten as I make the decision I have delayed for centuries. “Bereft of family, at least he may have friends beside him.” “One friend, at least. I will remain here to guard his children as long as I can. Perhaps that may be of some comfort to him.” He sighs. “It will not be enough.” “Nothing could be.” I cannot imagine the pain our friend is enduring. “But we will do all we can.” For Kenaz: (See the note on Maedhros' drabble. And there's just a fake balrog; does that count?) Balrog-Slayer Mortally wounded, the balrog staggered and fell heavily to the earth. The boy clapped. The warrior bowed. The balrog sat up and tossed aside the wooden blade. “Was it necessary to strike that hard, Glorfindel?” he growled, prodding at a bruise. “Eärendil!” Idril's approach prevented any response. “What are you doing?” “Lord Ecthelion was a balrog, and Lord Glorfindel slew him!” the boy announced with a delight his mother clearly did not share. “Father is waiting for you,” she told Eärendil. The lad ran off. She turned to glare at the Elf-Lords. “You were telling my son tales of balrogs?” Happy belated birthday! ~Wolfwind

 

Nice drabbles, Wolfwind! I particularly liked the humor in the last one... - Barbara

 

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. Sorry it's a day late. Hope you'll hang in there and come back to us someday, Werecat! This is 100 words as counted by MS Works, excepting the title. It may also be AU; I don't have my copy of the book handy and I don't know that these three ever travelled together, though I know that two out of three did, not always the same two. However, the narrator insisted it be told like this and I wasn't about to turn him down. Brownie points if you know who the narrator is....It's not Faramir. (Hint - SILMARILLION reading required) This is actually my first piece of Tolkien fanfiction anywhere that does not involve Faramir, so perhaps an international holiday should be created to mark the occasion, and include Werecat's birthday of course! The Guardian The bright little elf-maiden is the sun in my sky, precious as rain. She is my most special friend, who I chose to follow. As another day of our journey ends, she drops beside me to stroke my ears, give me water, and curl up against me for warmth. The other one, the smelly unwashed Man with the sword, looks at her as if she belongs to him. His only use is to cook the game I kill. Does he not know that he is Luthien’s? And therefore his life is mine to protect and die for, as is hers.

 

The Guardian The bright little elf-maiden is the sun in my sky, precious as rain. She is my most special friend, who I chose to follow. As another day of our journey ends, she drops beside me to stroke my ears, give me water, and curl up against me for warmth. The other one, the smelly unwashed Man with the sword, looks at her as if she belongs to him. His only use is to cook the game I kill. Does he not know that he is Luthien’s? And therefore his life is mine to protect and die for, as is hers. Raksha-- I won't give away who the narrator is except that he is the only pet in MiddleEarth (or at least the only one I can think of). I love how he expresses, in an authentically canine fashion, his devotion to his mistress and his dismissive opinion of Beren, who doesn't seem to understand his proper place in the pack! Branwyn

 

Of course Beren doesn't understand his proper place in the pack - he only has eyes for Luthien! Good thing the narrator is so tolerant. Thanx for the kind words; glad you liked it. RAKSHA THE DEMON

 

In the End Wow! How sad, and yet how beautiful. I always feel sorry for Elrond at the end of RotK, even though we never really get an idea of how everyone felt about the twins' decision (or lack thereof). I think you're the only person I've met that shares my idea about what happened at the end. Erestor would depart (for Elrond's sake, but also for his own... what's left for him?) and Glorfindel would stay (for the twins' sake... they need protection, even if I think they would dispute that). A sad parting in its own right: in the middle of wild joy and wild grief, it's a relatively calm parting of two friends, but that doesn't make it any less sad. Thank you so much! -Ithiliel

 

After that long drabble, you're not gonna tell us what Faramir's original gift was? Mwahahaha! Come on RAKSHA...it had to be a large, pink, stuffed My Pretty Pony... I never quite decided what it was, but that was definitely along the lines of what I was thinking I love Aragorn/Faramir drabbles; good job, Nic. Thanks, Raksha Nic

 

Thanks your very muchly, Nic...for this very nice surprise of my own! Glad you liked it, Taunuswolf Nic

 

For Werecat: This is my first birthday drabble and I did not do anything fancy, but I thought it might be nice to incorporate a silver cat into Beorn’s already impressive list of beautiful animals. Since cats were your preferred choice I made a moment where she observes Beorn’s guests with distrust and amusement. As I said, nothing fancy, there is no drama or action just a moment of observation. Hope you like it, happy belated birthday Werecat. Wilderland Shadow: I settle into master’s lap; he strokes my pewter fur as he talks with the strangers. Slitting my amber eyes I purr softly in contentment. Master begins telling tales of the dark forest of Mirkwood. A cold shiver runs through me at the sound of that name. I was there once – but never would I go there again. Yet these dwarves speak of traveling in that terrible wood. Few can walk in those woods that are not in league with evil. I do not entirely trust these strange folk. What good can come of journeying into such a perilous place?

 

Mallondwen, This is wonderful! My cats agree with Beorn's kitty. What strange folk indeed to leave the warm fireside to go into danger. Branwyn

 

That is absolutely adorable! Thank you!!! -kenaz

 

A few days late, but inspiration only just struck! Happy (belated) birthday! This is a double drabble, from a cat's POV - not something I usually write! Important Business The cat opened one eye indignantly as her sleep, in a patch of bright sunlight on the sun-warmed flagstones, was disturbed. She heard the heavy clump of booted feet, very different to the familiar soft steps of the elves. There were deep, gruff voices, harsh to her ears after the light, musical voices she was used to. There was peace for a while as the one she thought of as her elf spoke, and she dozed again, ignoring the discussion that followed. All was well if he was here. Suddenly she awoke with a start and hissed, her fur standing on end in fear. A harsh, menacing voice was speaking in some foul tongue. The sunlight faded, and a sense of evil hung in the air. Then her elf spoke again, gently reprimanding, and she felt the dark shadows lift. There was more talk, then a heavy, ringing silence. Finally another voice spoke, soft and resigned, rather sad. Her elf spoke again in reply, and then – finally! – the intruders were gone, and silence descended once more. The pointless, irritating discussions were over. Contented, the cat curled into another patch of sun, and got back to the important business of sleeping. Happy Birthday, Werecat! Thank you for your stories about Berúthiel. Jay

 

Important Business Jay, that's a delightful take on the Council of Elrond! - Barbara

 

Elena Tiriel wrote: Nice drabbles, Wolfwind! I particularly liked the humor in the last one... Thanks, Barbara! I was worried about the last one - those characters *refused* to talk to me, stuck-up Elf Lords - so I'm glad it worked for you! ~Wolfwind

 

Ithilien Silverquill wrote: I think you're the only person I've met that shares my idea about what happened at the end. *blinks* We're the only ones who think that? That surprises me. It makes perfect sense! After all, they can't let Elrond go off alone. What's he going to do, spend the whole voyage agonizing over how to tell his wife that their children haven't come with his mind-reading mother-in-law looking over his shoulder? *shudders* Of course Erestor will save him from that! He's a good friend. Plus, you're right; now that the world has changed, there's no more reason to stay than there is to go. Glorfindel, on the other hand, really needs to look out for the kids. It's how he can best help Elrond, even if it does mean a sad parting for him and Erestor. I'm so glad you liked your present! Hope your birthday was fabulous! ~Wolfwind

 

kenaz wrote: That is absolutely adorable! Thank you!!! You're most welcome! As I said, I was worried about this one, so I'm so glad you liked it! Happy birth-month (since the day is long past, but that's no reason to stop celebrating)! ~Wolfwind

 

Hi all. Apologies for the very late response to all of you, but life has been less than kind to me lately. However, I finally got down reading all of your wonderful drabbles and it really made my day brighter. Branwyn: I loved your “Gifts of the Forest”. It was sad, ever heartbreaking at a point, but I absolutely adored that little squirrel. Unfortunately, much too often animals pity someone while one’s own kin gets so cruel. Thank you for your beautiful and deep drabble. Ann: I absolutely loved Jochan! The way he speaks about asking the waters for permission reminded me a lot of various cultures, from American Indians to Aboriginals, and this always makes me happy. And the title was just perfect. BTW, do you think that Jochan could teach certain cats a trick or two? Can I borrow him for a session or two? Ithiliel: At last, a fell beast! You’ve got to love them, those creatures… I think you’ve captured the creature’s mind precisely. Thank you for the chilling drabble – I’ve always enjoy the darker aspects of Middle Earth. Nessime: I loved that. We so often forget that one creature’s death is life to another. Your descriptions touched me deeply, and this was also chilling, but I like that. As for the last couple of lines, I’m speechless. I believe this is how Shadowfax and Gandalf would seem to the eyes of the night creatures. EdorasLass: Aw, kitties! Well, what can I say? This made me feel all warm and fuzzy inside. The image of a mother cat lecturing her kittens is very dear to my heart. Especially when warning them not to try seafood, hehe. Thanks! Raksha: I can really see Huan in this. Of course he’d feel this way about this smelly mortal; I know that my cats would. And his devotion spoke tons of this truly remarkable creature. Thank you for this. Good Huan tales are hard to find. Mallondwen: Oh, another kitty! And one living with Beorn, of all people! Thank you for pairing up two of my favourite creatures: cats and shapeshifters. And of course the cat would this thus of the dwarves. It makes perfect sense, as far as feline logic goes. One objection though, as raised by my cats: I doubt that any feline would call anyone “master”… Dwim: One thing I can say about your drabble: I’m green with envy that I didn’t think of it first. I could feel Begril’s anguish, and, at the last line, I had tears in my eyes. It really moved me. Thank you for this. Jay: I absolutely loved that! The world through feline eyes: my most favourite POV. Shame on Gandalf for scaring the poor kitty in such a manner, though. I’m sure it replied accordingly in High Feline, or by leaving a well deserved hairball in Gandalf’s shoes. I had to wonder one thing, though: What’s the elven equivalent fro catnip? I hope I did not forget anyone... Thank you so much, everyone, for warming my heart! Werecat

 

Good to hear from you, Werecat! Hope things improve for you soon. Stick around if you can; we've missed you. RAKSHA

 

Thanks, Raksha! Things seem to get better already. *hugs* Werecat

 

Happy very, very, very, very belated birthday to you Mysterious Jedi. I hope you don't mind that it's a month late:-) I really have been trying to catch up. Well you wanted a Aragorn and Faramir drabble so here you go. A completely whimsical one showing the Steward's more humerous side. Hope you enjoy! Cheers, Vistula ~~~~ The Queen’s Mustache “This is a terrible idea, Arwen.” The lady turned ‘King’ glanced at her husband, bedecked as he was in a gown of green velvet, coronet balanced upon his dark hair, and giggled. “It’s a splendid costume meleth-nin. Don’t be so serious. This party is suppose to be fun.” “Easy for you to say.” He sighed, grumbling. “I’ll never hear the end of it.” “That’s silly. Tomorrow no one will even remember.” As if to lend weight to Aragorn’s words, Faramir stood, eyes twinkling behind a falcon mask, and raised his goblet high. “M’lords, m’ladies…a toast. To the Queen’s mustache!”

 

Weeeeelllll Taunuswolf! This takes late to a whole new level of meaning...but I did promise to try and eventually catch up with as many drabbles as I possibly could. You wanted non-moody Faramir with possibly a bit of Aragorn thrown in so I've managed a whimsical piece with the Steward and the King. I hope you enjoy it...late though it may be! Cheers and happy birthyear, Vistula ~~~ Have You Lost Your Marbles? Pick up plans, meet Elessar… Intent upon his tasks, Faramir didn’t spy the hazard and only trained agility saved him from falling. Glancing down, he discovered the culprit – an abandoned contest of marbles, circle still drawn in the dust. Crouching he reached to gather the spheres. Fingering one, he remembered games long past, played in this very courtyard. Without thinking, he flicked his thumb skittering the marble towards its mates. “Care for a game?” Startled he turned toward his grinning King. “A game?” “Or do you fear I’ll beat you?” Challenge thrown and accepted, two warriors knelt to do battle.

 

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