Henneth Annûn Story Archive

Welcome to all. The wheel of time turns and half the year is vanished like dust in the wind.

If you have a July birthday, please post your request.

Birthday folk, please visit the workshop, put your story in it, and enter the July challenge.

If you have questions, please ask.

RiverOtter
**********
2nd, TariElfLady : I would love to receive anything about
Legolas.

4th, Teleri: For a drabble, I love anything, but I would greatly enjoy a piece dealing with Arwen and the effects of mortality.

9th, Rous: I did not remember to ask for stories for my birthday. If anyone cares to write one, I like elves. However, I will read anything. (Yeah, I am that desperate.) Any rating.

12th, Marta: I want stories on quests and journeys. Give me your favourite character(s) getting ready to leave for a journey. Or wanting to take one. Or about to say good-bye to someone else who's about to leave. Or welcoming someone for the first time, after a long absence. Anything like that. I like my drabbles canon-based but a bit obscure, and if you can manage Harad and/or Doriath, I will be doubly pleased.

18th, Mirwen Amruniel" So... request time: Predictably, knowing me as you guys do, I would like anything pervy and elfy (read: Legolas. Legolas at a workout? Legolas at workout in leather?? Legolas in leather, working out and bare-chested?! GAH... down, Cheryl down.). I'll drool at A/L slash too. lol.

25th, Vilwarin: I wish for Aragorn. It can either be with Halbarad (I find slash quite acceptable this year), any other ranger or with Arwen. I feel quite a bit naughty this year, so the rating may go up to adult, both with slash or het ;) But it need not be, I find everything acceptable.

 

Oh, july again? So soon? I was quite shocked when I clicked and realized that it is my birthday month! How strange...

My birthday is on july 25 and again I wish for Aragorn. It can either be with Halbarad (I find slash quite acceptable this year), any other ranger or with Arwen. I feel quite a bit naughty this year, so the rating may go up to adult, both with slash or het ;) But it need not be, I find everything acceptable.

 ~Vil

 

Tari ElfLady celebrates on July 2.

"I would love to receive anything about Legolas."

 

My birthday's July 12. The summer is the time Frodo got ready to leave on his quest to destroy the Ring - and this year, it's the time I'm getting ready to leave on my quest to go to grad school, at the other end of the country.

So I want stories on quests and journeys. Give me your favourite character(s) getting ready to leave for a journey. Or wanting to take one. Or about to say good-bye to someone else who's about to leave. Or welcoming someone for the first time, after a long absence. Anything like that. I like my drabbles canon-based but a bit obscure, and if you can manage Harad and/or Doriath, I will be doubly pleased.

Marta

 

Happy birthday, Vilwarin.

I could not resist the invitation to submit an Aragorn/Halbarad slash drabble. They are both so appealing and had to spent all those cold, dark nights alone in the woods.

Hope you like it... 

Best wishes--Oshun

Unanticipated Accord

 

When we finally sought rest in the cold woods, our body heat dried the damp ground beneath us. At last I fell asleep, his broad back curved against my chest. I half-woke when he shifted restlessly; my arm lay across his waist. Perhaps its weight had roused him.

 

Sleep fled when, suddenly, he rolled over, his strong arms pulling me tight against him.

 

"Arwen," he whispered.

 

His eyes flew open. Surprised, he mumbled, "Halbarad. Sorry."

 

"No need to be sorry," I said with unexpected longing.

 

With unbearable sweetness, he kissed me. "Are you sure?"

 

In answer, I returned the kiss.

 

 

Ah, thank you. Just what I needed

~Vil

 

Great drabble, oshun! So glad you have joined the drabbling crowd.

Gandalfs apprentice 

 

At the beginning of July we celebrate the birthday of HASA.

Our Henneth Annûn Story Archive turns four!

To celebrate this 4th anniversary, HASA asks for a drabble about your favourite character and the number four.

 

Hellooooooo! *rubs paws together gleefully* I just love this month.=^p

So... request time: Predictably, knowing me as you guys do, I would like anything pervy and elfy (read: Legolas. Legolas at a workout? Legolas at workout in leather?? Legolas in leather, working out and bare-chested?! GAH... down, Cheryl down.). I'll drool at A/L slash too. lol.  

Kisses,

Cheryl

(Pervy Elf Fancier's blog: http://mirwen-amruniel.livejournal.com/ )

 

To celebrate HASA turning four, I offer the following double drabble.

--Gandalfs apprentice

 

Reckoning 

With a relieved sigh, Gilraen sank into a deep chair. Since waking at dawn, her son had been climbing stairs, running on his sturdy legs through gardens and hallways, shrieking with delighted glee at each new thing and befriending each new person. His mother struggled to keep up.

At last, she could rest. He was quietly playing by himself, absorbed in a pair of toy wooden horses, exquisitely carved and burnished by Elven hands. Watching him coax the horses along the carpet in jumps and trots, one in each fist, she marveled at his young resilience. What happened to the terrified little boy calling for his father? Is Lord Elrond right—he will forget Arathorn, forget our people, forget even his own name? 

The door opened. "Good morning, Gilraen, Estel," said Elrond.

Her son ran to hug the Elven-lord's legs, crying, "Papa!" 

"Look, Estel, I have brought you two more horses."

"I have four horses, mama," he shouted. 

Her eyes blurring with sudden tears, she reached out to him. "Areg, come here."

"Not Areg, mama. Estel. Papa, play with me!" 

Meeting her eyes over the boy's small, dark head, Elrond smiled sympathetically. "Go rest, Gilraen. I'll look after him now."

 
Note: Thanks to Gwynnyd for helping me with diminutives in Sindarin. "Areg," formed from the first syllable of Aragorn's name and the suffix –eg (roughly equivalent to the English –let), means "little king" or, perhaps, "kinglet."

 

 

 I want stories on quests and journeys. Give me your favourite character(s) getting ready to leave for a journey. Or wanting to take one. Or about to say good-bye to someone else who's about to leave. Or welcoming someone for the first time, after a long absence. Anything like that. I like my drabbles canon-based but a bit obscure, and if you can manage Harad and/or Doriath, I will be doubly pleased.

I hope that you will have a nice birthday, Marta

Forget us not

Aragorn looked around his uncle's house that had served as his home for the last five years one last time. He did not know how long he would be away years, maybe even decades. At this moment, he had no wish to see those far-off places he had been told about, but it seemed to be his fate that he always had to leave that behind, which had become familiar.

He had already said his farewells and now there was nothing left to do that would prolong the inevitable.

Just as he was about to leave the house, Halbarad came up to him and pressed a parcel into his hands.

"Do not open it just yet, cousin, for it is something to cheer you up on the road." he pulled him into a fierce hug, then whispered, "Promise me that you will not forget us".

~Vil 

 

To celebrate HASA turning four, I offer the following double drabble.

--Gandalfs apprentice

awwwww.... that was very sweet.  And Estel learnng to count so young... awww....

Gwynnyd 

 

Here is my Drabble for HASA

Four Hobbits 

Aragorn sighed and shifted his position on the hard chair, trying to get at least a bit comfortable. He had not dared to sleep more than two or three hours, and even then he had not been able to find any rest, for his dreams were troubled.

Bad luck seemed to be following him lately, the massacre at Sarn Ford, the mysterious absence of Gandalf, and now the the Úlairi were alerted to the presence of the Ring.

He looked at the four sleeping hobbits in front of the hearth and sighed again. Gandalf had told him about two and he had been surprised to find three in the Ringbearer's company. But it mattered not now, for it could not be changed. He would have to manage four of them.

~Vil

 

Happy birthday, HASA! And thank you, Ang and all of the admins, for all of your hard work putting up with us. :-)

Here is a drabble, about one of my favourite characters (Celeborn) and the number four.

Four for the Elven-lords

Three he made for the elf-lords, for wind, fire, water: all they needed to rule this Middle-earth. What need has Artanis for my plain wedding-band? With the very wind at her com-mand, is there still room in her heart for me?

There are no great forests here in Eregion, and the stones sing louder than the trees. My heart aches for Lorien, Greenwood, most of all for Doriath-that-was.

Yet even love is not all, and pledges do not die with an age's turning. Can my one balance against Celebrimbors three? Either way, I shall not leave her to fall alone.

 

Poor Aragorn! I had never thought of all the "bad luck", but you made me feel for it here. Hopefully in time he saw the hobbits in a bit more positive of a light.

 

Very sweet. I like drabbles that explore the relationship of Halbarad and Aragorn, so this hit the spot. It was also a little unexpected, as I am looking forward to my "quest" and I guess expected the same. The longing in this was palpable, and because of the surprise worked it all the better.

 

I've been assured by a mother of very bright children that they can count to ten and sort before they can talk.

Glad you liked it! I truly appreciate your invaluable help with the diminutive.

G.A. 

 

Thank you, Marta. I am glad you liked it. Can you create a birthday story so that I can put it in?

~Vil

 

I have created a story and put it in the workshop. Is there supposed to be a challenge for July birthdays? I didn't see one, so I don't know if I need to add it to someething.

 

You captured the whole package authentically and without sentimentality. I have to respond from the mom's POV. Every parent suffers when a young child forgets anything of their shared history--whenever I've moved just from one city or country to another it always hurt to see my children forget where they came from and how things "were." Gilraen had to endure that at a much higher level of magnitude--her child is required to forget not just details of his past, but his father and his own identify. Heavy stuff. And, as others noted, even Elrond's support of her and her son has its bittersweet side.

 

I have wondered about the absence of Challenge as well. Hm... Anyway, will go and put in

~Vil

 

I hope you don't mind sharing a drabble times ten. It's exactly 1,000 words: a conversation between Halbarad and Aragorn before he sets out on the hunt for Gollum.

Gandalfs apprentice

 

Hobbits and Husbands

Halbarad was writing an entry in the logbook when his son Thorbarad stuck his head in the door and said, "Aragorn is here."

Surprised, the chieftain's lieutenant looked up, removed the pipe from his mouth, and said, "Aragorn? So soon?"

"He said he must see you at once. He's stowing his gear. I told him where to find you."

"All right. Fetch some ale. He'll be thirsty."

"Right away, father."

He resumed writing, but was far from finished when the familiar long stride sounded in the hallway. Aragorn entered without knocking, sat down and began to prepare his pipe. His grey eyes were dark with worry and fatigue, his jaw set in a determination Halbarad knew well.

"I wasn't expecting you till at least next week," Halbarad said.

"A change of plans," the chieftain answered, pausing to draw on the pipe and get a good light on the weed. "I must be off again in the morning. I'll be heading across the mountains and expect to be gone through the spring at least."

"Across the mountains? Why, are you going back to Gondor to challenge Denethor in his bastion?"

"Nothing so easy," Aragorn quipped with a grim smile. "It's urgent, and I'm here only to give you orders. We've got to double the guard on the Shire immediately."

"Whatever for? We just increased it a few years back. Are the Hobbits planning a mutiny?"

Aragorn shook his head. "I can't tell you the reason. It's on Gandalf's urging. Be prepared to sacrifice almost anything to accomplish this, save the basic defense of the Keep itself."

"It's no easy chore you give me," Halbarad exclaimed. "The Shire is the most peaceful spot in all Eriador. The men already grumble that we put too many of our forces there."

Aragorn raised his eyebrows. "Grumble? The usual complaining of cold and hungry men, or do they question my orders?"

To Halbarad's relief, Thorbarad came in then with the ale. Aragorn was silent while he served the mugs to the two men and then slipped out.

Halbarad took a long swallow. "Usual complaining at this point, I would say, but you know there will be questions. What danger does the Shire pose to anyone or anything?"

Grim amusement lit Aragorn's eyes. "I do appreciate that," he said. "Likewise, it is difficult to see why anyone—even Sauron—would seek to harm such innocent creatures. All the same, I can't tell you what Gandalf's reasons are. Suffice it to say that only Elrond and I know the full story, and it is the same business that takes me across the mountains. The less anyone else knows, the better off we are. My authority, and Gandalf's, ought to be sufficient in the men's eyes."

"All right," Halbarad sighed. "I will impress upon them that we are working on the 'need to know' principle."

"If I could, I would stay to speak to the captains myself. I know I'm asking a lot of you: to lead men in something you yourself cannot explain. But the lives of us all may now depend on the Rangers' vigilance."

The glint in his eye told Halbarad all he needed to know. A shiver of apprehension prickled up his spine. "I understand," he said. "What about you? Where are you going, and what will you be doing?"

"Hunting," Aragorn said. "Wherever the search takes me."

"You mean to go to Rivendell first, I assume."

"I've already been there," Aragorn said. "Tomorrow I head for the Redhorn Pass to meet Gandalf. He is taking council with Elrond as we speak."

"You stayed one night in the Valley?"

"Just so," he answered.

"Arwen must not have liked that."

"She didn't. But it's hardly the first time."

"And you are again going into great danger."

"No doubt," Aragorn agreed.

Halbarad shook his head. "That will displease the captains just as much as any guard on the Shire."

"I tire of these complaints."

"What do you expect, Aragorn? You're seventy years old. You have no sons, and you refuse to marry. Then you go walking into Mordor every other day. Shouldn't we be worried?"

"I don't refuse to marry."

Halbarad rolled his eyes. "Let me clarify. You refuse to marry anyone but Elrond's daughter, after you've been crowned King of Gondor and Arnor. Is that better?"

"Much better," said Aragorn.

Halbarad slammed his hand on the table. "Of all the pig-headed, impossible men—you know what I mean. The women will be griping again. At least all those eager to provide you with an heir, and their mothers."

"The sooner I leave, the better, then. I'm much more afraid of the women griping than the Rangers grumbling," he said. Only the gleam in his eye gave away his amusement.

"I suppose I would be too, if they chased me around the Keep like that. Soon they will take up hatchets to bring you down."

"And you wonder why I will marry only Arwen? Would you marry a woman who chased you with hatchets?" 

"Somehow," Halbarad countered, "I don't think the absence of a hatchet is why you prefer Arwen."

"You have me there," Aragorn said, smiling.

Halbarad snorted and resumed his log entry. Aragorn settled into his chair and smoked and drank in silence. In a few minutes Halbarad threw down his quill and rose to fetch a map off the huge rack on the wall. He spread it out on the table, weighting each corner with a polished rock. The Shire lay before them, roads marked in black, streams in blue, villages in pale red. Hobbiton, Michel Delving, Buckland.

"Now," he began, "the main entry points are the road from Sarn Ford in the south, Brandywine Bridge from the east, and the Great East Road from the Tower Hills. Assuming we place the bulk of our forces at these spots, that leaves less traveled entries. What do you think about….."

By the time they had formed a plan, the pitcher of ale was dry.

 

 

 

Thank you. A, I do not mind at all. There are enogh words for the both of us, no?

It really must be har for the men to follow orders they cannot understand... and for the man who has to order them.

I have always wondered what the man must think about the several prolonged absences of their childless Chieftain, being all too aware how easy a life can be ended.

The women, hehe, yes, I can see them in my mind's eye smiling at him and giving him seductive looks... and he hating it. I can understand the poor man.

~Vil

 

Forget us not

Very touching story; you capture very well the bond Aragorn has to his family and friends - which is one of his greatest reservoirs of strength in his lonely wanderings.

Imhiriel

 

Four for the Elven-lords

Very evocative. And Celeborn's voice feels so true and real, and his emotions shine clearly through his ponderings.

Imhiriel

 

Happy Birthday, HASA! And a big thanks to all the friendly helpers for all their hard work, especially to Ang!

Imhiriel

Bliss and Beauty

One look, and Idril had changed him irrevocably. No longer would he gaze upon the shining fountains of Gondolin and yearn for the boundless Sea.

Two feet, fleeting, dancing; two graceful hands weaving music into motion; two bright eyes laughing at him, laughing for him.

Three years passed in the Hidden Kingdom before Tuor felt her heart had turned to him, not afraid of whatever doom would come of their bond; steadfast, valiant lover as Lúthien before her.

Four years after, the bliss of Gondolin, of Ondolindë, came true for him, too, when he received her hand in joyful union.

 

Very, very nice, Marta... and I loved the twist on the rings.... the fourth ring was lovely and more all-encompassing in its worth than the other three!

 

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, HASA; here's a quatrain of somewhat angsty drabbles from Faramir on the nature of grief, renewal, redecorating, and release.

Marking Fours

 

Four hours after I awoke, I learned that my father was dead. I knew that I should weep, but no tears came, only shock that the world no longer held my closest kin within it. That world was gone forever.

 

I turned my head to the window and beheld the returned sun. I remembered that our King had come back and guided me out of the darkness. A Northern stranger had renewed my life and given me what my father could not - hope. I pushed my grief aside, and clung tightly to that hope, and so could sleep again.

 

_________________________________________________________________

 

 

Four days after I awoke, I overheard not only word of the true nature of my father's death, but of the death he had ordered for me. Grief and anger warred within me.

 

Heartsick, I fled my chamber. I wandered the Houses of Healing, combed its library shelves. But for once, no scroll or tome could ease my unrest.

 

I finally entered the garden. I walked awhile, then stood still, savoring the sun's welcome touch. And in the next moment, I saw the White Lady for the first time; and my heart forgot its sickness and sought to allay hers.

 

_________________________________________________________________

 

 

Four months after my awakening, I greeted my lady's brother on his return to Minas Tirith.

 

I showed Eomer the chambers where Eowyn would one day live with me. Aided by my cousin Lothiriel, I had begun to have the most dreary furnishings removed from the Steward's quarters. 'Twas important, my cousin counseled, for a young woman's comfort in a new dwelling, to have her own possessions at hand.

 

I suddenly wondered what my father would think of his bedchamber wall being adorned by the armor of the Witch-King's slayer. And just as suddenly, I realized I did not care.

 

_________________________________________________________________

 

 

Four years have passed since I woke to a changed world. I have more power and wealth than I could have ever dreamed would be mine. And dearest of all these riches are my wife and my son.

 

Elboron spoke his first word today. He called out "Adar!". I praised him, even as I was assailed by sorrow . For I had uttered my last words to Denethor in Sindarin, and I had called him "Adar".

 

Grief returned, like a torrent of spring rain. At last, as I held my son and kissed his brow, I wept for my father.

__________________________________________________

 

 

any recommendations for a better title?  I'm stumped.

RAKSHA THE DEMON

 

Thanks. It seems that every six months or so I get the strangest urge to drabble Celeborn and something ring-oriented. I was pleasantly surprised with how well this one turned out.

 

Thanks, Imhiriel. Celeborn is a topic that I have thought about and read about an awful lot , even if I don't often write him, and so I think I have a fairly well-developed idea of what he would sound like, at least my version of him. I'm glad that came through as "true and real".

 

Tari asked for anything to do with Legolas (though I cannot seem to write without a certain man from Gondor worming his way into any of my writings!!!) A double drabble.

Lost

Legolas turned as soon as he heard Gimli's call. He had become separated from the rest of the Fellowship and was desperate to find them. But the Dwarf's call held a note of… panic?

He sliced through the last orc in the band that had attacked him and turned his head, trying to discern from where the cry had come. Nothing! Closing his eyes, he listened to the forest's sounds. Nothing! Frustrated, he cried aloud and was surprised to hear an unexpected answering call.

It was the Horn of Gondor! He followed it and almost stumbled over his friend. Gimli lay on the sward, half buried under bodies. The kicking feet of the son of Glóin protruded and Legolas breathed a sigh of relief. Pushing the remains off the Dwarf, Legolas grabbed his hand and pulled him upright.

"Three!" the Dwarf cried in glee. Legolas smiled. "Eighteen," he said matter-of-factly.

The Horn split through their laughter. "Boromir!" Legolas cried. Dwarf and Elf ran. It was too late.

The Elf cried in anguish, "Aragorn!" Gimli paused. Before them knelt the King of Gondor, mortally wounded. "And Boromir!" the Dwarf exclaimed.

"Nay. I am not touched. 'Tis Boromir…" They stood in silence.

 

I was only just wondering... we have so many birthday children every month, and so few that actually make requests. Somehow that seems not right... surely we have more active members!

~Vil

 

Oh, Agape, you've done it again. This tugs at my heart. So neat to see it all from the Elvish and Dwarvish perspective, I don't think I've ever seen anything that addressed how they would have seen this scene.

 

Bittersweet and moving - it shows very well the sacrifice Gilraen had to pay, and how difficult it must have been for her, and how lonely at times. And especially if you bear in mind how terribly young she still was, to have lost her husband and her home, and couldn't even talk about those with her own child all those years.

Imhiriel

 

I shall make it easy for me: I totally agree with Marthe. Well done, Agape!

Imhiriel

 

Bless you both - I'm very grateful this little peek at our heroes touched you!

 

Happy Birthday, Marta!

I was casting about among my many favourite characters for inspiration, and Finarfin spoke up (as he keeps doing for quite some time now).

Imhiriel

 Saying Farewell

His armour was packed, ready to be taken to the ship: He and Eärwen had decided together, in long discussions, that he should lead his host to Middle-earth personally.

Finarfin turned to his wife and drew her in for a last, wordless embrace.

At length she whispered, her voice threatening to break, "Bring them back to me, please! Bring our children home!"

He had to blink a few times. "Eärwen, you know I can not promise..." He stopped, shook his head helplessly. "I will try to find them."

He dropped a kiss on her brow. Her lips.

Then he left.

A/N:
- A prequel to my story "Father and Daughter"

 

Happy birthday, Marta! In lieu of my usual southerly, or at least Rangerly, wanderings, here's an unexpected drabble. I think you'll recognize the offspring of recent e-mail conversation.

Dwim

Walkabout Season

Frodo is out wandering again. All Bag End is in boxes, in crates bound for Crickhollow. The old green door's new-painted, but the wizardly dent shows still. Summer's turning, has tilted already—the days fall away toward autumn and farewells.

Merry, stacking cupboards, putting pictures upon walls never meant to be long lived in, knows this. He counts coins, knows the price of ponies, measures meals, miles.

For Frodo is leaving, and Merry's heart hammers in his chest. Fear, yes, but he's a Bucklander, too: walking the hobbit-ways of the Old Forest, he whistles, for the woods whisper of Outside...

 

12th, Marta: I want stories on quests and journeys. Give me your favourite character(s) getting ready to leave for a journey. Or wanting to take one. Or about to say good-bye to someone else who's about to leave. Or welcoming someone for the first time, after a long absence. Anything like that. I like my drabbles canon-based but a bit obscure, and if you can manage Harad and/or Doriath, I will be doubly pleased.

 I'm sorry it's not as extravagent as some of my recent ones, but it's at least a double.

Happy Birthday! May all your journeys be fun ones!

Gwynnyd 

Journey to Harad

Returning to his room in Rivendell, Aragorn found Arwen hovering on her heels over the neatly laid out the contents of his pack.

"Is this all you take?" she asked.

As the pack had been filled and tied closed, he assumed the question was rhetorical.

"Socks, fire kit, sewing supplies, whetstone, herbs, dried meat and fruit, cheese… it is not much for such a long journey."

"I travel light, lady."

She plucked a basket off the floor and shyly offered it.  "I thought you could use ointment for sunburned skin, lembas and miruvor. Is there room?"

"For your gifts? Always."





"Everything ready for the journey?"

Hithdol, the king's majordomo, drew himself up and preened.  "Yes, Sire.  We leave at dawn: a hundred horse, a troop of infantry, the honor guard, three carriages for the Queen and her ladies.  The large campaign tent, the other tents, wagons with the bed and furnishings, the traveling bath." He waved a dismissive hand.  "Farriers, cooks, armourers, barbers, supplies… near two hundred servants and forty-seven wagons.  No trouble, sir. It will run as smoothly as ever."

"I'm sure it will."

The desert. A bath a bed, and his lady.  It was good to be king.
 

 

Dwim, this is lovely. Looking around my room at the piles of clothes, piles of books and papers, etc., I know that feeling of wanting to be on the road, it's very true to life. This played very nicely on what we've been discussing, and you've worked in so much of how we both seem to view him - longing for adventure but limited by his sense of responsibility.

Thank you.

 

Hi Gwynnyd,

Quite the contrast. And you involved Arwen who is one of *my* favourite characters. Not surprising for you, obviously, but I loved to see her. She did a really neat job of showing her as the good gift-giver. I like thinking of her taking after her grandfather like that.

And the Haradri king was really well-drawn, too. Not something I had particularly thought about, but the extravagance and how you made it seem so ordinary for him stood in such sharp contrast. It was a really effective way of characterizing Aragorn's kingship.

 

Oh Gwynnyd, that was phantastic!

What a contrast you drew here, two ways to visit Harad.

It was good to be king. Oh my, that reminded me of Mel Brooks' History Of The World.

~Vilwarin

 

I was wondering the same thing. It's really a pity, I think. I did make an "advertisement" on HA, and it seems to have helped a bit.

Imhiriel

 

Very vivid. If I remember correctly, this is set before Frodo discovers the conspiracy of his friends, and this make the drabble, especially the last paragraph that much more poignant. I think my favourite line is the last one.

Imhiriel

 

My least favorite character - but when I thought of packing up and leaving - this came to mind. Hope you leave on better terms!  LOL

 

Oliphants and String   

"Leave the frog alone, my precious, else you hurt it and it cannot return to its home."

"I want it. I found it and it's mine," the sweet tone that had once been his now resonated with disdain. " 'Sides, it's an oliphant and I'm tamin' it." 

"Where is your cousin?" she changed the subject.

" 'Dunno," he whined. "Can't always watch 'im."

"You went to the river with him, didn't you? Isn't that where you found the frog?"

" 'Dunno. And it's an oliphant. I tied it up tight with this here string and now it can't get away. It's mine, it is," he whined even more miserably.

"Where is Deagol?" she asked, her tone now harsh.  

He turned towards her, eyes flashing with hate. "I don't know!" he screamed.

A moment later, they came into her smial and brought the body before her. She saw the handprints on the boy's throat. Shivering, she called his name, but he had disappeared. She wondered where he had gone to, but grief swept all other thought from her.

For weeks after that, unease swept through her village. She was its head, its guardian, and she knew the cause. At last, she confronted him.

He denied the murder, the thefts, the eavesdropping, the tortures… everything and so she ordered him banished.

Watching as he bundled a few rocks, shells from the river, string and various dead bugs into his bedroll, she held back her tears. Once she had such dreams for him. The frog had long since died else she knew he would have taken that too. She offered food – he spat at her. She closed her eyes. She would not watch him walk away. But others did and shouted obscenities at him.

Forgotten forever was the sound of his sweet voice.

 

Hi Marta,

Looking around my room at the piles of clothes, piles of books and papers, etc., I know that feeling of wanting to be on the road, it's very true to life.

I was hoping that line might speak to experience.

Thanks for the discussion, without which assuredly this drabble would not have come to be.

Dwim

 

If I remember correctly, this is set before Frodo discovers the conspiracy of his friends

Yes. Frodo only discovers the conspiracy when he arrives at Crickhollow.

this make the drabble, especially the last paragraph that much more poignant. I think my favourite line is the last one.

Thanks! It's the line I was aiming for the whole time.

Dwim

 

I like how "redecorating" gets slipped in there, Raksha! A long journey to release, but it seems that being a father himself lets Faramir lay Denethor to rest at last.

Dwim

 

He looked at the four sleeping hobbits in front of the hearth and sighed again. Gandalf had told him about two and he had been surprised to find three in the Ringbearer's company. But it mattered not now, for it could not be changed. He would have to manage four of them.

I like this, Vil, it speaks to the sort of frustrated, anxious, "What now?!" feeling I imagine those early days of acquaintance would often have inspired in Aragorn. At least until the hobbits started acclimating to the journey and he got to know them better, but especially with all the bad news and the sense of being the only one equipped to get them through Eriador alive, the idea of shepherding four hobbits must not have been a very happy one for him.

Dwim

 

Obviously I'm catching up on old drabbles, here...

Yet even love is not all, and pledges do not die with an age's turning. Can my one balance against Celebrimbors three? Either way, I shall not leave her to fall alone.

Great contrast, pitting first love and at the end of all things duty against the draw of the Three Rings of Power, and all the consequences that come of bearing one! Very neatly drawn, Marta.

Dwim

 

"I suppose I would be too, if they chased me around the Keep like that. Soon they will take up hatchets to bring you down."

"And you wonder why I will marry only Arwen? Would you marry a woman who chased you with hatchets?" 

"Somehow," Halbarad countered, "I don't think the absence of a hatchet is why you prefer Arwen."

"You have me there," Aragorn said, smiling.

 

 These lines make the whole ficlet for me. Go Halbarad! Never let logic cover over longing! Very entertaining, G.A. - nice humorous banter set neatly within the more serious frame.

Dwim

 

I did not remember to ask for stories for my birthday.  If anyone cares to write one, I like elves.  However, I will read anything.  (Yeah, I am that desperate.)  Any rating.

 

I did not remember to ask for stories for my birthday.  If anyone cares to write one, I like elves.

Ok, you're in my queue anyway.  Um, what day is/was your birthday?  I'd like to know just how late it is when I finally write it.

Gwynnyd 

 

I first read this on the message board, but wanted to comment here also.

Thank you so much Agape.  I love this and don't mind Boromir being in it at all.  I have become quite attached to him also.

Tari

 

Hello everyone. I am still relatively new to HASA, and love this site and its members.

My birthday was earlier this month. For a drabble, I love anything, but I would greatly enjoy a piece dealing with Arwen and the effects of mortality.

 

Please post in the 2nd thread.

RiverOtter

 

Thanks. It was the ninth. But, I am late, also. And, since this is the only birthday gifts I will get, I am not concerned with timeliness. It is the thought, you know.

 

Thank you for the delightful drabble.  Boromir is welcome anytime.

Tari

 

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