Henneth Annûn Story Archive

Here’s the November Babies List so far:

November 8 - acacea: I'd love a drabble on an Aragorn Faramir conversation or a Faramir Gandalf post ring war conversation or a Faramir Eldarion conversation

November 11— annmarwalk: I'd love something about either or both of Denethor's magnificent sons.

November 12 - Aeneid: My drabble preferences, in order, would be something Haradrim or Fourth Age. I think that's vague enough to cause inspiration. And if not that, then a completely AU Boromir (Liiiive! Liiiive!) as a fall-back

November 17 - Ithildin: Hail, O talented ones! I would enjoy something with Elves – Legolas, Thranduil, Celeborn, Galadriel, Elrond, twins, etc., etc.- whichever muse speaks loudest. ;) (no slash, please)

November 22 – Julia (jcd1013): I’d love a drabble that focuses on the interactions (friendships only please!) between the Fellowship--angsty or happy, with any combination of characters. I'm leaving it pretty general (I think?) and I hope that it inspires.

November 23 - Melina: I'm easy -- any of the following would be lovely: Boromir and Faramir, either growing up or as young men; Eomer and Theodred, either growing up or as young men; anything in the 4th age with any of the following -- Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir, Eowyn, Eomer, Lothiriel.

November 30 - Ranger1: Please any drabble on First or Second Age Elves. Have inspiration!

 

Happy Birthday, Ann! Here's a triple-drabble with Denethor's magnificent sons, followed by a regular drabble: FAREWELL: IN SUNLIGHT (by Raksha The Demon) I mount my horse, ready to begin the journey that could change our fortunes in this war. Yet I crave one last look at what I leave behind: the White City of my fathers. Minas Tirith, the Tower of Guard, shines in the sun, more beautiful than any elven-city could be, for it is my home. I said farewell to my father but an hour ago, took his whispered blessing and his kiss upon my brow as I bent my knee to him. I think again of all that could be lost. The great gates open and another horse appears, its rider spurring him to first a trot, then a brisk canter. He catches up to me, long dark hair barely combed and his face pale: Faramir. My holds out his hand, to show what I had forgotten. "Here is your war-horn, brother" he says. "Forget us not when you walk with the Elf-lords in the halls of Imladris." "I will remember you to my last breath, brother mine." I reassure him. We embrace. I can see that my little brother sorrows; we have never been parted for such a long and uncertain errand. But I will not let any uncertainty cloud my heart, nor our farewell. I put the horn to my lips and blow a mighty call, announcing to all Gondor's foes that I come forth to fight them. And I look again on my City, as, before its gate, Faramir makes his horse rear up high and waves me a last salute, proud and tall in the saddle. I laugh in joy and pride; for it was I who taught him that maneuver when we were both much younger. I wave once more at my brother and my city, then turn my horse away from home. FAREWELL: IN DARKNESS (By Raksha The Demon & Tanaqui) Faramir was alone. He could not sleep. He could barely bring himself to try. Three days ago, he had heard the faint but clear sound of his brother's horn. Their father, standing on the walls beside him, also heard the Horn of Gondor's distinctive call. They shared the revelation with uncharacteristic emotion. Then the Steward turned and went away from his son. Tonight, sitting watch by Anduin, Faramir had seen the completion of the horn's fell omen. A boat floated slowly by, carrying Boromir's corpse. Alone in the darkness, Faramir could neither weep nor sleep. Would the light ever return?

 

Happy birthday, Ann. Something about both of Denethor's magnificent sons. Since you share your birthday with Remembrance Day, I made that the theme. Remembrance In the first days, the memory of his brother can catch him unawares. It is shot through with anger, that after all their years of struggle, he missed the peace by a matter of weeks. Later, a statue is put up, remembering his victory at the Fords. And there are other reminders too, less formal – his son’s laugh, the shrug of his shoulders. As the years go on, the thread is not lost, but picked up – part of the weft of the fuller tapestry of his life. Grief is not eternal, and beyond this world there is more than memory.

 

What lovely insights you've given to familiar scenes! I love the image of Boromir turning to take one last look at the scene that symbolizes, for him, the power and majesty of Gondor. And Faramir, riding hell-bent for another farewell, especially the horse -salute - -something I can see those brothers practicing together, off in secret, quite heedless of the danger! Finally, the painful and beautiful image of the elven boat. Always, I weep, but never tire of this haunting scene. Thank you, thank you! Ann

 

Grief shot through with anger - I'm glad for this image of Faramir working with passion through his grief! But you've always given me such unique insights into his character - something I've always loved about your stories. the thread is not lost, but picked up – part of the weft of the fuller tapestry of his life. I'm loving the "tapestry" themes that have been seeing - thank you for including one here! Ann

 

Happy Birthday, Ann! Hope you have a great day, with lots of fun and surprises. Cheers, Starlight *** Boys, dreams, swords, quills The lady stops to look upon her sons’ play, a smile tugging at the corners of her lips. ‘It must be difficult to entertain them, Finduilas,' another woman says. 'They look alike, yes, but there is too much of a difference in age and temper.' She looks at the boys and her eyes twinkle. ‘My sons are as different as day and night, but you cannot have a full day without one or the other. Gondor, methinks, needs both.’ She then leaves her embroidery to join them in their game and together they dream of battles, builders, swords, paper boats…

 

Happy Birthday, Ann! The dishy Boromir and his lovely brother, as requested. ---- "Let us be off," said Boromir, rising and stretching lazily. "I've had my fill of books for the day." He grinned down at his companion. "Come, bear me company to the Eagle's Rest. I've a thirst for some of their yellow wine." Faramir raised a quizzical brow. "The Eagle's Rest? What is left of it after your exploits last month, you mean?" "It was only a little disagreement," laughed Boromir, flinging an arm round his brother's shoulders. "A little disagreement that somehow resulted in the destruction of six tables, twenty-one chairs, a wooden staircase, and four barrels of wine, according to this," Faramir said, indicating a scroll on the desk. "I wish I had seen it - how ever did you manage to break a staircase?" "Come with me, and I shall show you," Boromir offered. "I am always happy to further the practical side of your education, my young scholar!" --- cheers, Maya

 

This is priceless. The dialogue is crisp as is the image of Boromir in the Eagle's Rest. However, Boromir breaking another staircase to further Faramir's education is not a good idea. Hopefully, Boromir will point out his technique on the existing staircase. RiverOtter

 

Ithildin said she would enjoy something with Elves – Legolas, Thranduil, Celeborn, Galadriel, Elrond, twins, etc With thanks to Gwynnyd for the inspiration in her story Nothing in Haste A grandmother’s sacrifice Arwen and I are baking lembas when the messenger comes. I watch how she stills her movements at his name. “It must be some years since you saw him,” I prompt. She nods. “He was a mere boy.” Curiosity, not contempt, is in her tone. Brought before me, I find him worn with travel and weary with long labour, yet he endures my gaze unflinching. I read his desire. He is much like another Man I knew. My heart tells me his destiny will be as high - if he keeps hope. I make my choice: that she make hers. Happy birthday, Ithildin! Cheers, Liz

 

A happy Finduilas with twinkling eyes! What a delight! How nice to see her happily playing with her boys - the shadow of her illness still far way. She then leaves her embroidery to join them in their game ... What all mothers know: the days of childhood are too short, so we treasure them while we can. Many thanks! Ann

 

The dishy Boromir and his lovely brother, as requested. I love birthdays where I get exactly what I want! Hooray! "I am always happy to further the practical side of your education, my young scholar!" What a happy, carefree interlude for these two! Well, carefree except for the consequences of what's outlined on that scroll. This is what I enjoy: angst-less brotherly interaction, just family fun. It's wonderful to have you back Maya, and thanks for this lovely gift!

 

My birthday's long past, but I go for Aragorn like a cat for a mouse. Hope Ithildin doesn't mind my muscling in. Anyhow, love it, love it, love it. The reference to Beren was interesting (it was Beren, yes? Or am I just ignorant?), and Galadriel's final decision was sad and sweet. I bet Ithildin'll enjoy this one.

 

Hi Noldo - glad you liked it! Yes, it was a reference to Beren. I'm sure Galadriel must have met Beren since she mostly seems to have been hanging round Doriath and Nargothrond in the First Age, and Celeborn's kinswoman Nimloth married Dior. I can see her having a moment of recognition of Aragorn's qualities and his similarity to Beren. As for her final decision: I always felt she pretty much shoved Aragorn at Arwen, errr...I mean promoted the match. (I was trying to fit in that she "clothed him in silver and white" but couldn't find the space.) One of those many examples in Tolkien of a decision that was for the greater good but involved personal sacrifice. (Hmm, I can't imagine Elrond was delirious with his mother-in-law when he found out, was he?) I hope Ithildin enjoys it as much Cheers, Liz

 

Loved the drabble with Arwen and Galadriel baking lembas together. And Tolkien-via-Barahir did chronicle the tale of Matchmaker Galadriel and the clueless kids - Aragorn and Arwen. Didn't Aragorn and Arwen go tripping barefoot through the meadows of Lorien for a season as they fell in love? So cute. Maybe Galadriel did have a sense of humor.... RAKSHA

 

Happy Birthday, Aeneid! Here's my first-ever Haradrim story. Hope you enjoy it, and hope your birthday is just wonderful. Cheers, Starlight *** Boys The gondorian could be no older than himself, yet he stared at him, plain fear in his eyes. I am discovered. How could I’ve been so careless! In war one couldn’t just wander away, but he’d found water! I never thought I’d live to see it. But it mattered little now, for he was as good as dead. The grey-eyed lad walked closer and Indhar could see him clutching something. A chess Knight! He searched inside his pouch and held up his black Knight. A faint smile graced the lad’s face; Indhar nodded. Boys are the same in every land.

 

Hey Starlight, Thank you so much! This drabble was just great - I loved the initial fear from Indhar's POV, which quickly turned to relief. For some reason, this little scene reminded me very much of that Steven Spielberg movie Empire of the Sun. The grey-eyed lad walked closer and Indhar could see him clutching something. A chess Knight! He searched inside his pouch and held up his black Knight. A faint smile graced the lad’s face; Indhar nodded. Boys are the same in every land. I loved this passage! Wonderful! Aeneid

 

Hi Ann! I'm delighted to see you liked it. What all mothers know: the days of childhood are too short, so we treasure them while we can. I am not a mother yet, but I think this is the image I get when I look at some of my friends who have children, or even at my own mother. It is really heart-warming to see how genuinely they enjoy their time with their children. When you are with those you love, even silly games are fun and pleasant. Many thanks! You are most welcome! I hope you had a happy day. Cheers, Starlight

 

Hi Aeneid! I'm so glad to see you liked it! Drabbles are an interesting exercise for me because I tend to be *very* verbose, so this forces me to get right to the point. This one was particularly hard because there was so much I wanted to say and choosing the right words is never easy. I could just see Indhar and his gondorian friend standing looking at each other, realizing that, though enemies, there are so many things that make them equals. A bittersweet realization, perhaps, but a humane one. Happy Birthday, again! Hope your day is great. Starlight

 

Child of the temperate north, Arwen has never known heat like this - it strikes to the core of her bones, burns her flesh wherever it is bared. At this searing hour of the day, the sun hangs unmoving and the city of the Haradrim dozes. Sitting under the shadow of the arcade she watches the empty streets, where only flies stir. In the courtyard a bird echoes the liquid note of the fountain. Beside her Aragorn sleeps on a divan draped with gauze. He has taken to Haradric ways again, and they call him by the name he bore long ago in these lands: Ekiri, the tall one. Looking down at the hair tousled on his pillow, she sees threads of silver woven into the black like the banner of his house. Gently she strokes her fingers through, separating them, and wishes she could so easily untangle the years. --- Not a lot of Haradrim, I'm afraid, but perhaps barely enough to qualify? Actually, looking at the birthday request list above, it just occurred to me that this could qualify as an early present for Melina as well, since it's Fourth Age Arwen & Aragorn. Hope you both enjoy it!

 

Hi Julia! I'm not very good with trabbles, so I wrote you a story that is a little over five hundred words. If you would like to read it, you can find it here: A Long While Ahead CLF

 

RE: A grandmother’s sacrifice Yes, Liz, I am very pleased with this piece, thank you very much! And I’m glad others are enjoying it too. I really like the image of Arwen and Galadriel baking lembas together and the way Galadriel notices Arwen’s reaction to Aragorn’s name. “He is much like another Man I knew. My heart tells me his destiny will be as high - if he keeps hope.” I love the way Galadriel’s insight pinpoints the similarity between Beren and Aragorn. Arwen is often compared to Luthien, but I don’t think I have seen Aragorn compared to Beren before. I like it; very nice touch. Arwen’s choice proved costly to many people, her grandparents included. I appreciate this glimpse into that moment of realization and decision. Thank you again, from a *delighted!* Ithildin *(

 

Hey Forodwaith, Ooh, very nice. And also a refreshing change of characters - since I rarely seek out Arwen and Aragorn, even though I've read some amazing Arwen/Aragorn romance fics. Beside her Aragorn sleeps on a divan draped with gauze. He has taken to Haradric ways again, and they call him by the name he bore long ago in these lands: Ekiri, the tall one. Looking down at the hair tousled on his pillow, she sees threads of silver woven into the black like the banner of his house. Gently she strokes her fingers through, separating them, and wishes she could so easily untangle the years. The setting was so evocative. This passage especially reminded me of a similar scene from The English Patient, where the two lovers - Count Almasy and Katherine - are in Cairo, dozing in their hotel room, while outside you can hear the Muslim morning prayers. The divan draped with gauze was such a nice touch, very vivid. And also the last line, regarding his grey hair, was fantastic imagery. Thank you so much! Aeneid

 

This was very sweet -- I love the idea of silver and black in his hair matching Gondor's banner. Thank you! Melina

 

November 23 - Melina: I'm easy -- any of the following would be lovely: Boromir and Faramir, either growing up or as young men; Eomer and Theodred, either growing up or as young men; anything in the 4th age with any of the following -- Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir, Eowyn, Eomer, Lothiriel. Here is an Éomer and Theódred double drabble for you. (why say in 100 words what you can say in 200? ) Have a happy birthday, Melina Cheryl ******* “You will not succeed.” Éomer squared his shoulders. He stopped and stared his cousin in the eye. “I will.” He turned away, but not before he saw Theódred shrug and shake his head. Éomer easily climbed over the three rail fence before him. "You worry too much." He crossed the large paddock, halter in hand. “I care not if you break your fool neck, only that it will be I who has to tell father of it.” Theódred rested his arms on the middle rail and looked over the fence. “You must first catch him.” Éomer ignored him. He slowly approached the spirited gray stallion and, after a brief, silent stand off, haltered him. He smiled triumphantly. With the ease of one born to horses, he grabbed a handful of mane and vaulted to the animal’s back. Powerful muscles bunched beneath him and Éomer turned his overconfident gaze to Theódred. He squeezed his legs firmly into the horse’s sides. “You were…” He found himself lying on the ground, admiring the blue sky above him, and at a loss as to how he got there. A shadow crossed his sight, followed by the smiling face of Theódred. “I told you so.”

 

Melina asked for Eomer and Theodred, either growing up or as young men This is set just after Eomer comes to live at Edoras. Fathers and sons, cousins and brothers “Can I clean your harness? Groom your horse? Fetch your armour? Ride with you? He plagues me night and day.” Théodred glared into the fire. “Does the boy have nothing better to do?” “No.” Théoden answered softly. “The one he should pester with such questions is gone. I would he were here for me to trouble with my needs. His mother also.” He waved away Théodred’s stammered apology. “Besides,” Théoden smiled, “as king, you will have many loyal and adoring subjects. Best practice with this small one. Be as a father unto him for a little while, I beg you.” Happy Birthday, Melina! Cheers, Liz

 

Charming! I can just see little Eomer pestering his big cousin, trying to make himself useful.... RAKSHA

 

Happy belated birthday, Aeneid! According to your request, here are some Haradrim (or one, at least ) To March to War Outsiders tell of our lands, speaking of arid grounds, harsh sands, waterless death. But I know the truth of the sun’s warmth, the signs made by wind and dunes, the clearness of the stars in the black night-dome of the sky. Now a fair Promiser bids us march to battle against the men of far lands, and we do, with all the strength and speed of our people. But I grow weary, and trust Him less with each step. For the air here is strange: it makes me long for home more than victory, leaving my lungs cold with every breath. ***** Cheers, Ali

 

Charming! I can just see little Eomer pestering his big cousin, trying to make himself useful.... Thanks, Raksha. And gazing at him with hero-worship in those big puppy-dog eyes....? Cheers, Liz

 

Huzzah! Thanks, Ali! And once again, I must say that I'm very happy to see you've got your computer back and you've promptly resumed HASA activities. The piece was beautiful, your writing is always very detailed and evocative. Just a joy to read! My fave bit might have been this: Outsiders tell of our lands, speaking of arid grounds, harsh sands, waterless death. ...from a literary perspective. "Waterless death" was quite vivid. And, this: But I grow weary, and trust Him less with each step. For the air here is strange: it makes me long for home more than victory, leaving my lungs cold with every breath. ...from a plot and myth and culture perspective. An interesting take on the Haradrim, I tell ya. So, all in all, thank you! Aeneid

 

November 22 – Julia (jcd1013): I’d love a drabble that focuses on the interactions (friendships only please!) between the Fellowship--angsty or happy, with any combination of characters. I'm leaving it pretty general (I think?) and I hope that it inspires. Happy Birthday. Second Watch Wearing all the clothing he carried with him, wrapped in his blanket, Pippin huddled over the meagre fire. With no awake companions other than the man who stared silently out into the wilderness, he felt lonelier than ever. His stomach rumbled. Boromir turned. “Still enjoying your adventure?” Tired, Pippin blurted out, “I’m always cold, always hungry, and wishing my father had put his hand on my shoulder and said, ‘Stay. You’re needed.’ when I went off.” A look that might have been pain, or regret, or just a trick of the unsteady fire-light passed over Boromir’s face. “I as well.” Gwynnyd

 

Thanks Aeneid, glad you liked it! Thanks, Ali! And once again, I must say that I'm very happy to see you've got your computer back and you've promptly resumed HASA activities. Well, after you stormed my forum and made a huge mess with your Resurrected!Boromir, it wouldn't be fair for me to leave you alone, now would it? I was very pleased that you asked for Haradrim, since it is always fun to look at things from alternative perspectives. Thanks once again, Ali

 

November 11— annmarwalk: I'd love something about either or both of Denethor's magnificent sons. November 23 - Melina: I'm easy -- any of the following would be lovely: Boromir and Faramir, either growing up or as young men; I hope you can share this! It's a triple so it should be long enough. Happy birthday to you both and I'm sorry one is a litle late. On the West Slopes of Mindolluin “In the army, arrows stay in the quiver,” Boromir instructed from all the superiority of six month’s service. With three extra shafts stuck in the ground at his feet, Faramir nocked an arrow and held it loosely against his bow. Their dogs were ranging through the field, plumed tails barely showing above the grass. Forest ringed the meadow and climbed the slopes around them. Faramir gnawed his lip and tried not to let his brother’s military stance irritate him. “We should not be here.” Boromir turned a raised eyebrow and his winning smile on Faramir. “I’m on leave and it’s rather late for you to worry about playing truant. We’ve been gone since dawn.” Faramir shook his head. “Not that. I don’t mind the essays father hands out as punishments. When you said, ‘let’s hunt’, I didn’t know you meant here. Even father doesn’t hunt here. This is the King’s forest.” Boromir gave a hoot of laughter. “No need to be so literal. Father rarely hunts and still half the meat on the Steward’s table comes from these lands.” “But it’s culled by wardens, not hunted for pleasure.” Boromir shrugged. “There hasn’t been a king in a thousand years and the game wardens needn’t have all the fun. The House of Húrin has hunted this land often enough. When I am Steward, I’ll make you free of it with an official proclamation. Does that satisfy your conscience?” Harsh squawks interrupted them as a pheasant flapped into the air. Both bows twanged. Boromir’s arrow sailed inches over the bird, but Faramir’s pierced it. A second bird rose. Faramir plucked another arrow from the ground and his bow sang again to bag the brace, even as Boromir still fumbled in his quiver. Boromir reached over and ruffled the boy’s hair. “Good shooting.” Gwynnyd

 

oh, thats lovely, Gwynnyd! Cheryl

 

How lovely! I particularly enjoyed the little details: Their dogs were ranging through the field, plumed tails barely showing above the grass... Faramir gnawed his lip and tried not to let his brother’s military stance irritate him. I'm glad Faramir finally had the opportunity to show up his bossy brother. This is such a perfect depiction of brotherly rivalry, and pride! Thank you!

 

Well done, Gwynnyd! I keep obsessing on the detail of the dogs with plumed tails ranging through the field - if they're spaniels, their tails would have been docked at birth and they would quarter the field (though that's a term the boys might not know) and spring as they moved. But that's just the dog nut in me. I love Boromir's superiority of six months' military service! Very typical. And that he ruffled his litttle brother's hair and complimented him at the end is so nice and big-brotherly... RAKSHA THE DEMON

 

if they're spaniels, their tails would have been docked at birth and they would quarter the field (though that's a term the boys might not know) and spring as they moved. But that's just the dog nut in me. *snork* OK, I've been caught! I know nothing about hunting with dogs and you can thank Liz for the 'bag the brace' detail. I spent several days last week walking and hiking in Yosemite Park and the drabble came to me there in a mountain meadow. You can think of these dogs as some as yet unspecialized breed that eventually became spaniels 4 ages later, if it makes it easier to accept them, plumey tails and all. I'm glad you enjoyed it otherwise! Gwynnyd

 

I keep obsessing on the detail of the dogs with plumed tails ranging through the field - if they're spaniels, their tails would have been docked at birth Umm, not in the UK, they wouldn't have. Tail-docking by a lay person has been illegal for the past ten years here, and UK vets are only allowed to dock tails for "therapeutic or prophylactic reasons" - it's gross profesional misconduct for them to do it merely because a dog is of a particular breed. So, to me, all spaniels should have plumed tails, whether they're pets or working dogs, and shown or entered in field trials. I know there are arguments for working dogs having their tails docked, just as there are arguments against - the question is: would Gondorians feel it necessary to do so? Errr, anyway, back to your regularly scheduled Tolkien discussion. I really liked this too, Gwynnyd, especially the interaction between the boys at the end. Cheers, Liz

 

Ithildin said she wanted something with Elves. I tried very hard- the muse took me to a very unexpected place. Happy Birthday, Ithildin! *** In the woods of Belfalas At the sound of him she rushed to the shrubs, knowing she should not be seen- But, Oh, how his voice is kind! No Elf is he, his broad shoulders and loud movements told her as much- But his countenance is so fair! “Lady!” he called again. She trembled, though not in fear. How would she find her way back? In his voice she’d heard the call of the sea, in his eyes seen distant shores she’d never known, and they flickered bright when at last they met hers. “Imrazôr… I am... I hunt... I-” Now they are both lost.

 

"I keep obsessing on the detail of the dogs with plumed tails ranging through the field - if they're spaniels, their tails would have been docked at birth Umm, not in the UK, they wouldn't have. Tail-docking by a lay person has been illegal for the past ten years here, and UK vets are only allowed to dock tails for "therapeutic or prophylactic reasons" - it's gross profesional misconduct for them to do it merely because a dog is of a particular breed. So, to me, all spaniels should have plumed tails, whether they're pets or working dogs, and shown or entered in field trials." Well, many spaniel breeders in the UK have their vets dock the pups' tails; because at 2-3 days old, it's hard to tell for certain which pups will go to pet homes and which pups will be hunted; and it's much harder on a dog to have its tail docked after its first few days of life. I've heard many stories of long-tailed spaniels ending up with thorns and cuts in their tails, both in the UK and the USA (but curiously, not in Scandinavia). It all depends on the type of cover in which the dogs hunt. Since tail docking has been done for at least a hundred or more years; I would think that they'd dock spaniel whelps' tails in Gondor. I'm assuming the hunting dogs in the story are spaniels because Retrievers weren't developed until well after guns became hunting weapons; there's some evidence that Spaniels have been around for centuries. None of which interferes with the drabble's quality, which is excellent. RAKSHA

 

Only a day late, and what I call a 'Blue Peter' drabble - here's one I wrote earlier. (UK members will understand this perfectly!) Ithildin requested elves, including Thranduil and Legolas, so here is good!Ada Thranduil and little Legolas. Thranduil’s Begetting Day Daisies. His father’s favourite flowers. Carefully, he searched the grass, picking only the long, thicker stems he could weave into long chains. Daisies were just right. The stems for the emeralds his father most loved, petals for his favourite white gems, the brilliant centre, just like his father’s golden hair. He threaded the stems together, interlacing the flowers and weaving the resultant chain into a thick rope, finally joining the ends together. Satisfied, he ran to his parents, throwing himself into his father’s arms and placing the daisy crown on his head. “This is for you, Ada! Happy Begetting day!” Happy birthday for yesterday! Jay

 

Happy belated birthday Aeneid! Sorry it's late, after I went to bed last night I was wondering how a Boromir!Lives AU could fit into a drabble. Then I realised that all of the AUs I've read have him try to take the Ring and then somehow avoid death at Amon Hen. But what if he never took the Ring? Tolkien may not have known of Faramir's existance at this point - but Boromir certainly did. So here's a double drabble:

Doom Is Near At Hand I hear that dark insidious song grow louder and feel its fingers tighten about my heart. Then I see your face within my mind. The image is so clear it seems as if I would but reach out, I could trace the small wrinkles engraved upon your brow. The Ring’s song fades and I hear your voice reciting part of the riddle from your vision, from our vision. “…Doom is near at hand,” and it is as if you stand now beside me. I know that this evil is no gift, nor ever could it be. The words of the wise were truly spoken, I had known it all along: I was just unable to see it until now. I turn back to the halfling and see that he still eyes me warily, and well he should. For by their nature mortals are frail, and the evil that pulses about him is ever ready to snare the unwary and bend them to its will. I speak, trembling with the effort of forcing the words past my lips, “It is best that it should lie hidden you say. You speak truly. Go Frodo! Go now, ere the Ring takes me. Go!

Btw, should 'it' be capitalised when refering to the Ring?

 

Two wonderful gifts - Thank you Starlight and Jay! Starlight - Imrazôr and Mithrellas at the moment of their meeting – unexpected, yes, but a very pleasant surprise! I know just how she feels there – I felt the same way when I first looked into the eyes of the man who has been by husband for 27 years now. Love at first sight – I’m a believer! A beautiful moment to cherish – thank you! And Jay, what a treasure! Such a lovely picture of little Legolas and his Ada! I can imagine the concentration on his face as he weaves the stems together and his bright smile as he leaps into his father’s arms. As mother of nine I know the joy of such moments! Thank you again! Thank you both so much! Ithildin *( *radiating mithril happiness*

 

Hey Elvenesse, Ah, thank you! A very original take on things, and one which is often overlooked in fanon. The image is so clear it seems as if I would but reach out, I could trace the small wrinkles engraved upon your brow. This was particularly touching. I speak, trembling with the effort of forcing the words past my lips, “It is best that it should lie hidden you say. You speak truly. Go Frodo! Go now, ere the Ring takes me. Go! And this! Just awesome. I liked this a lot; a very exciting moment. (nuzgul hatches - hops away) Someone should pick up on it! And re: capitalizing 'It'... Well, I've seen it done either way. Tolkien doesn't; I don't even recall him capitalizing Ring (anyone have their books handy?). But thank you very much! It was just lovely! Aeneid

 

I don't even recall him capitalizing Ring (anyone have their books handy?). Tolkien did capitalize Ring frequently: "How could he escape, or save himself, or save the Ring? The Ring. He was not aware of any thought or decision. He simply found himself drawing out the chain and taking the Ring in his hand." The Two Towers, LoTR Book 4, Ch 10, The Choices of Master Samwise I don't remember him capitalizing 'It'... but I'm not averse to a bit of artistic license, especially if it clarifies a meaning. - Barbara [Edit: ] No, JRRT didn't capitalize 'it': "'It is mine isn't it? I found it, and Gollum would have killed me, if I hadn't kept it. I'm not a thief, whatever he said.'" The Fellowship of the Ring, LoTR Book 1, Ch 1, A Long-expected Party

 

That you Barbara, I don't think I'll capitalise 'it' because I think it would look messy. I'm glad you liked it Aeneid. I wonder if it's overlooked in fanon because people don't think there'd be any nice juicy guilt to play with. I wonder if Boromir would feel proud/relieved that he resisted the Ring and 'passed the test', or feel guilty because he almost took the Ring and thinks that it's his fault Frodo left on his own (well, with Sam). I think that Boromir would live because there would no longer be the need for him to attempt to save M&P for the purpose of redemption. So Boromir could go and fight Orcs with Aragorn or by himself, and M&P could bugger off and get captured as they would anyway. However, I am not going to write a long Boromir!Lives AU because I've never written a piece of fiction longer than 1000 words and I don't know if I have the attention span. - Elvenesse/Kate

 

November 11— annmarwalk: I'd love something about either or both of Denethor's magnificent sons. Hi Ann, I hope you subscribe to the "better late than never" philosophy where Birthday Drabbles are concerned. It took me awhile to bludgeon my Brothers Mir muse into submission! This drabble is a kind of a follow up to the one I wrote for Faramir_Boromir last month. Hope you enjoy!! Happy late Birthday! Cheers, Vistula ~~~~ Night Fears The warrior tightens his arms around the small bodies that flank him. The halflings sleep at last, strengthened by his protective embrace. Sighing, Boromir remembers another time, not so long ago, when the tearstained cheeks and wide eyes had belonged to another. He’d held this other little one, a boy trying so hard to be a man, while a violent summer storm bathed the tower with fury. “I’m not afraid!” The boy buried his face as thunder shook the room. “No, of course not.” His affectionate reply had held a hint of laughter. Brother, will I ever see you again?

 

November 17 - Ithildin: Hail, O talented ones! I would enjoy something with Elves – Legolas, Thranduil, Celeborn, Galadriel, Elrond, twins, etc., etc.- whichever muse speaks loudest. ;) (no slash, please) Hello Ithildin, Happy Birthday a couple days late!!! I hope this drabble is okay. You wanted something with elves and I did manage to include one, sort of... Cheers! Vistula ~~~~~ Master of the House He’s Master here, I know that – make no mistake – and I should mind my place. I respect him, yet when he says go, take some rest, I cannot obey. My place is at my master’s side. He couldn’t bid me different, were he King of all elves. With stealthy steps that belied his clumsy nature, Sam slipped through the sickroom door. Mindful of the elves’ keen senses, he crept silently to the bed, reclaiming his post at Frodo’s side. Sam didn’t notice Lord Elrond secreted in the shadowy corner nor see his knowing smile. Fear not, Master Samwise, I understand.

 

the "better late than never" philosophy... Oh, absolutely! Unbirthday presents are just as much fun as birthday presents! I really like this - I've always felt that the hobbits would have awakened Boromir's protective instincts. They would have represented everything he has always fought t o defend. And I love the nostalgic longing for his brother, and simpler days. Brother, will I ever see you again? Poor Boromir! Ann

 

Thank you Vistula! Samwise is such a dear, and so faithful to Frodo. I can just picture him trying to tiptoe around softly enough that even Elves wouldn’t hear – a challenge even for a Hobbit, though Bilbo had already proven it could be done in the Elvenking’s Halls. And I love the image of Elrond’s understanding smile. Elves and Hobbits, two very different peoples, two very different cultures – and yet alike in many ways as well; I always find it interesting to see their reactions to each other! Thank you again for this charming drabble! Ithildin *( *stretching her birthday to the max and loving it!*

 

The Men of the South "To me! Haradrim to me!" cries lieutenant Fhelu'ut, and Ahrit, clutching a spear, wearily joins him. Defeat's in the air as Ahrit stares at the White Tower rising over smoke and field, remembering. Three months past, he stood awed beneath another tower, and felt his father's hands heavy upon his shoulders as Ahedri paid the salt tax in the only coin he had: "Here is Ahrit, my son, a man this day—one for Mordor, may he please the One." A man that day. He'll not see his fourteenth year, but as the sun rises, he'll end a man today.

 

Aw, this is so sad. Also well-written. Poor kid, not even fourteen... RAKSHA THE DEMON

 

Hey Dwim, Thanks! Very nice, I'm glad people were inspired by the Haradrim request. Three months past, he stood awed beneath another tower, and felt his father's hands heavy upon his shoulders as Ahedri paid the salt tax in the only coin he had: "Here is Ahrit, my son, a man this day—one for Mordor, may he please the One." I loved this. Just heartbreaking. Thanks again, Aeneid

 

...before the end of this thread. [Aeneid & Melina - glad you liked the earlier one; I enjoyed imagining Aragorn settling back into a way of life he'd found congenial a long time ago.] Here's one for Ithildin, a little late. Hope you don't mind that the elf featured is Arwen; she's been talking at me quite a bit lately.... ‘Go not to the Elves for counsel, for they will say both no and yes.’ Arwen balanced Galadriel's silver vessel in her hands. Starlight reflected from the water inside cast wavering light on her face. "Will you look in the Mirror?" "I wished to see the future of this love… but now I wonder if that is wise. You said once that the Mirror was dangerous as a guide of deeds." "It may be; but only you can say whether you want guidance." Slowly Arwen raised the ewer and tilted it. The silver sang as water spilled in a thin stream on to the grass. "I will choose for myself, no matter what may come."

 

All right, this thread is too long, so please post your November requests and drabbles in November Birthdays - Part 4! Always, Allie

 

Liz & Cheryl -- Thank you so much for the lovely Eomer and Theodred drabbles! These definitely have me hungering for more of these two! Gwynnyd -- not to repeat what I said onlist, but this really is wonderful -- so sweet and revealing of character. Regards Melina

 

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