Elena Tiriel's 2010 Birthday Gifts!
8. Origins — Gilraen
"Where does it come from?" Eowyn asked and nodded at his pipe, the sun bouncing off the white stone walls and toasting the limp grass they sat on. It was the first time she'd said anything, though they had been sitting in the garden together for hours. Looking into the smoldering, squirming remains of his Longbottom Leaf, Merry felt his stomach drop. He knew little beyond what he had already shared with Dernhelm on the ride. It would be his luck that, for all the babbling he'd done today and the day before, when she finally spoke he would have nothing to say in reply. When he looked up at her, however, he smiled, in that instant resolving to tell as much and as merrily whatever half-remembered half-truths his great-uncle had bestowed on the soil of the South-Farthing.
He got no laughter, not even at the story of Toby Hornblower's supposed 'ride' on the Prancing Pony in exchange for a barrel of pipeweed, but she smiled briefly, shaking her head. It was a start, at any rate, and as soon as the bells rang for the sunset hour, he set out to speak to Faramir again, to ask permission to look for any herb-lore in the great library that chatty old healing woman kept going on about.
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.