1. Goes a Courtin'
He had found this vein years ago, scented the ore hiding amongst the heavier quartz it was wrapped in and had been following it ever since. He pictured the molten metal cooling in the rivulets in which it had gathered, before Aulë’s hand gathered the earth and folded it upon itself, shaping it into the vast mountains that would secrete his own hope of creation. It had become his mate, his joy and, today, his bane.
This latest pocket of mithril had been pure, but the vein that led to it showed no sign of resuming. The words of his fellow miners echoed still within the small room. “Ah, lad, the deposit had to play out eventually.” And “It was a fine, long-lived bounty. We’ll be toasting her memory for years to come.” The problem was that he still sensed her. She was being coy and it frustrated him beyond words. Had he not been a steadfast lover? Had he not whispered his devotion with each new day? Had he not bathed each gift given in his own sweat as a token of his gratitude?
And then he laughed; a great booming laugh - a laugh that built, layer upon layer, and filled the small cavern before its fading echo became a base beat that was answered in the pulse of the mountain itself. His eyes teared with mirth and as the last echo of sound was absorbed again by the silence he looked at the now empty pocket with a new-found respect. He walked to the wall and caressed it. “You have shown your mettle, it is only fair I show you mine. Play the coquette; it is a game we will both enjoy.” Smiling, he hefted his pick and waited for the air to carry to him a hint of where he should begin his pursuit.
This latest pocket of mithril had been pure, but the vein that led to it showed no sign of resuming. The words of his fellow miners echoed still within the small room. “Ah, lad, the deposit had to play out eventually.” And “It was a fine, long-lived bounty. We’ll be toasting her memory for years to come.” The problem was that he still sensed her. She was being coy and it frustrated him beyond words. Had he not been a steadfast lover? Had he not whispered his devotion with each new day? Had he not bathed each gift given in his own sweat as a token of his gratitude?
And then he laughed; a great booming laugh - a laugh that built, layer upon layer, and filled the small cavern before its fading echo became a base beat that was answered in the pulse of the mountain itself. His eyes teared with mirth and as the last echo of sound was absorbed again by the silence he looked at the now empty pocket with a new-found respect. He walked to the wall and caressed it. “You have shown your mettle, it is only fair I show you mine. Play the coquette; it is a game we will both enjoy.” Smiling, he hefted his pick and waited for the air to carry to him a hint of where he should begin his pursuit.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.
