Drift of rain or drift of snow; trickling down rock, seeping through stone . . . welling as springs into sunlight. Babble over boulders long-rounded by my passage--placid in pools where trout lurk, sharp-eyed for prey--the rushing fall over ledges stubborn to last, steps down towards rushy swan-pools. Far, far to go, carrying news of the land to the Sea.
The Master's foreboding clots and clogs my current. Neat hooves cleave me at the Ford--then foul, foundered feet of black nags. White-maned waves scour my bed clean of their touch, preserving the haven of the Mariner's son.
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.