Forum: HASA Birthday Cards Forum

Discussing: October 2007 Birthdays

October 2007 Birthdays

Hello, birthday babies and drabblers! If you have an October birthday, please post your request here. Birthday folk, please visit the HASA Birthday Cards workshop, put your story in it, and enter the October challenge.

If you have questions, please ask.

PS - We are still looking for a volunteer to help out with the birthday cards. I'm doing it this month but I simply don't have time to carry this on indefinitely. (And it doesn't take that much time; I simply am busy with other stuff.) If you're interested in helping out with this, please email me or post here to discuss it.

Peregrin Ionad: I'd love any thing about the Son's of Elrond, Legolas and Aragorn, but I'm not adverse to the hobbits, Faramir, Glorfindel or Thranduil either!! (October 8 )

Raksha the Demon: I'd particularly like something about the relationship of Faramir and Gandalf, but anything Faramir will do (except slash, no thanks). (October 31)



Re: October 2007 Birthdays

My birthday is October 31.  I'd particularly like something about the relationship of Faramir and Gandalf, but anything Faramir will do (except slash, no thanks). 




Re: October 2007 Birthdays

*blush* Sorry this took me a few days to reply to, Raksha! I've added your request to the top of this post.



Re: October 2007 Birthdays

Peregrin Ionad: I'd love any thing about the Son's of Elrond, Legolas and Aragorn, but I'm not adverse to the hobbits, Faramir, Glorfindel or Thranduil either!!



Re: October 2007 Birthdays

Hi Peregrin,

I've added this to the top of the list. When's your birthday?

Also, is this instead of the request you sent me by email? 



Look Not With Longing - For Raksha

anything Faramir will do

How about a little schizophrenia?

Happy early birthday!


Look Not with Longing

The river rolls bright below the ramparts, where a lonely figure stands watching it. He has watched these walls grow up with Ithilien's green – the garden in bloom once more.

Faramir closes his eyes. The sun is hot and he feels the light still upon his face. And for all he has stood upon this very ground countless times before and let the dawn greet him after a long and weary journey, 'tis not the same. One could tumble the walls, raze the city, let the forest in once more, and still, he would know the difference.

'Tis the light – or the lightness. He came of age under a different sun than the boys playing warrior in the courtyard below. Things had a weight to them then that he misses now – the world swept clean of gods and demons is an open, airy space, yet dimmer – thinned.

We fought for this, he reminds himself, and 'tis perhaps the cut of a new Age that makes him a stranger to himself. The man who fought all those years in Ithilien, the second son too much in the shade, the relentless Ranger-Captain – intimate strangers, all. Some days, half his life and more seem to have happened to another. It needs not much – a change of light or wind, or a glimpse of a waterwheel where once there was none, or the flutter of a green pennant, and he's struck with a split-vision. The world's made strange in such moments, for he cannot fathom how he could have come through that life of yesteryears to this one.

He knows he is not alone in that. He can see it in Aragorn's eyes, in Éowyn's face, in the way Mablung sometimes stands just so – still and listening for a note that's faded to an echo. He can even see it in Bergil – in Bergil, who is no more a beardless boy and who came of age under this paler sun. But he was born beneath another, and it has marked him – left a glamor on the lad, promise of a greatness belonging to a bygone age. It gives him gravity beyond his years and endless good cheer – weighty promise that, pray the One, shall never need to be redeemed.

And truly, that is what they've fought for, all of them – that there should be no more marked as they have been. They have fought for a funeral – for the burial of an Age, and they have won the right to a headstone. Thus he knows that one day the memory of that other time shall fade. Even boys like Bergil shall have long since gone to their graves and taken with them the last dim glow of the splendor and the horror of those days. Then perhaps The War will finally be over in truth.

But not today, and not tomorrow, and despite himself, he is relieved. Despite himself, he mourns the coming of that day, for all he knows too well 'tis the very meaning of his life, however strange it has grown to him. For today, he will look upon the river and feel the his shadow strange and heavy with memory, and when it looms too large, then he'll be glad of that shine in other faces – beacons to light the way between one life and the other.

The east wind blows, free of the taint that had too long encumbered it.

Faramir breathes it in, and smiles.



Re: Look Not With Longing - For Raksha

Absolutely beautiful, Dwim!  I love the dichotomy; which strikes me as very credible, between Faramir's joy in the prosperous postWar world and his cherished memories of life during and before the War years.  There was a haunted beauty about the "Great Years", made all the more precious because of its fragility and the threat of Shadow, and even though Faramir suffered and lost, he understandably cannot let it all go; nor does he want the valor of those who fought so hard to be forgotten.  Very complex piece for a comparatively short number of words, and a wonderful early birthday present!




Re: October 2007 Birthdays

Well, Raksha and Peregrin Ionad, then perhaps this is for both of you!  Do enjoy.

Concerning Walls

            There was a small figure standing, leaning on the parapet at the end of the Court of Gathering, looking across at the Ephel Duath as Faramir approached it.  At first he thought perhaps it was one of the pages come out for air, until he came closer and saw the dark curls blowing in the breeze.  No, this was no page--it was Frodo Baggins, the Ringbearer.  He was dressed in his grey-green cloak over one of the outfits that Aragorn had ordered made for him, for he'd had nothing on him, Faramir had been told, when he was found.  He was still more slender than Faramir remembered him when they'd met in Ithilien, although he'd looked anything but well fed at the time.  At least his clothing was fresh and comfortable looking, and his hands were now clean and smooth, unlike the rawness Faramir had noted before, indicating he and his gardener friend had already had to climb rough outcrops before they were found in the woods along the road from the Black Gate.  One other detail Faramir noted--Frodo's nails had grown out--they'd been bitten to the quick when they'd first met.  But as he looked at the right hand where it lay on the stone Faramir saw a muscle spasm, accompanied by a tightening of the jaw in response to the pain across the stump that was all that remained of the ring finger.  What the Pherian--Hobbit--had experienced had been terribly cruel, Faramir realized more strongly than ever.

            He'd paused, but as Frodo turned to acknowledge his arrival, the young Steward gave a courteous bow.  "Master Hobbit.  May I join you?"

            "Gladly, sir," Frodo answered him, inclining his head.  "I'm not truly certain how it is we're expected to address you now, as I still think of you as the Captain we met there," indicating the forest to be seen on the opposite side of the river with a gesture of his head.  He looked back at the far side, looking somewhat northward of the site of Osgiliath.  "We were fairly far north of there, considering how long it took to come by ship south from Cormallen, which I know was very close to where we met.  The road through the ruined city leads to the Crossroads where the statue of the old King stands, does it not?"


            "Do you know what King it was that was depicted there?  Not, of course," he added looking back at Faramir apologetically, "that I'd recognize the name anyway.  Was it Anárion, or Elendil?"

            "No--if I remember correctly it was Atanatar the Second.  He was called Alcarin, the Glorious, and was, from what I can tell, one very proud of his accomplishments, and undoubtedly rightfully so.  But Gondor was already falling from the greatness of her glory even then.  Mablung has told me that at our Lord Elessar's bidding the head was replaced on the statue and the base cleansed of the obscenities left by the Enemy's folks."  He looked beyond Osgiliath as if by doing so he would see the Crossroads itself.  "The symbols they left on it were so crude.  Sometimes we would pause as we passed it to cleanse them away as we could.  As many were gouged deeply into the base itself, however, I suspect it will need to be fully reworked in order to remove them all."

            Frodo nodded thoughtfully.  "It was the last day on which there was any true sunlight when we reached there, and that not until sunset when the westering sun finally got below the reek.  To see the gold of the stonecrop and the circlet of white blooms on the fallen head--after the gloom and desolation of the day, somehow it gave us heart, Sam and me, as if secretly he was crowned in glory, and the Enemy didn't realize he was already defeated."  He looked up at the height of the dark mountains and shook his head.  "And we climbed that wall!  I barely remember it, save for the great weariness of it.  The only good thing was that the steps were properly outdoors."

            Faramir straightened in surprise.  "Properly outdoors?"

            Frodo looked up at him.  "Yes, outdoors.  We Hobbits don't usually build houses or dig our smials on more than one level, so we have no steps inside, usually, although we will have ladders to lofts in our barns.  We'll have steps up to our doors and to the tops of the hills into which we dig our smials, but none inside if we can help it.  There are slanted ramps in places for Brandy Hall and the Great Smial to connect some of the different levels, for there were a number of smials in the ridges of Buck Hill and Took Hill that were dug at different times and later joined together; although most of us going to upper doorways and halls go out and up the steps outside."

            "So your homes are usually of a single level?"

            "Usually, although some farmers will have a second story where they store things in upper lofts and storage rooms."

            "This city must seem very strange to you, then."

            The Hobbit nodded.  "Yes, very different.  The houses are so imposing, so close together and so high--three stories seems to be almost the norm on the lower levels of the city from what I noticed as we came up through it.  And things are so straight, as well as high."

            "And houses aren't--straight, there in your land?"

            "Roofs tend to be low and--and hill-like.  We rather like rounded shapes, you see--although my family has always dwelt in smials delved into hills or banks."

            Faramir thought on that, the fact that these Hobbits lived so close to the earth that they built their homes--when they weren't dug into the ground itself--in imitation of ridges and hills.  "It sounds a comfortable land," he commented.

            "Yes.  It was easy to go berrying when I was a tween, for all I had to do for most berries was to climb the Hill itself to the ring of berry bushes the Gaffer and Sam planted about its crown.  The ring gave us more privacy when we went up to the top--or me, actually, as Bilbo rarely went up that high any more, as well as offering a good crop of fruit in the seasons for the various berries.  It used to be one of my tasks to check the bushes and harvest the berries when they came ripe, although I used also to go out into the woods to fetch back brambleberries and wild strawberries from there."

            "You gathered your own berries?"

            "Of course.  Didn't you?"

            "And where within the city do you think we'd find them growing?  Although my mother did plant some sloes in her own private garden."

            "We had gooseberries, currants, raspberry canes, huckleberries and blueberries, and a bed of strawberries toward the south end of the circle.  And Sam had covered the Hill with all kinds of wild flowers--poppies, Queen Melian's lace, strawflowers, anemones of several kinds, buttercups....  It was very beautiful."  Frodo's face reflected homesickness, Faramir thought.

            "And your home was--was dug into the Hill itself?"

            "Yes, about halfway up it.  At the bottom was Bagshot Row.  There were five smials dug into it there, mostly straight back into the Hill, with most of the rooms with no windows.  Number Five was where I was born--it was the largest, and was at the far end, dug somewhat along the curve of the lower Hill, so it actually had a couple bedrooms that did have windows.  It was where Bilbo's father was born, although he dug Bag End up higher on the Hill, and had the Lane built up to it.  Much of it, I suspect, was done with Aunt Belladonna's dowry, actually.  Once I was Master of Bag End I let Number Five to some of our Proudfoot cousins.  I felt it ought not to stay empty as it had done for some time after my parents moved us to Buckland."

            Faramir tried to imagine the land and homes as his companion had described them.  "It sounds a pleasant place."  Frodo nodded.  "You will be glad to return to it, then."

            But the Hobbit was shaking his head, a stern and grieving expression in his eye.  "I sold it--to a cousin who does not deserve and will not properly appreciate it."  He was looking off at the dark elevations opposite them again, then looked over his shoulder at the shadowed slopes of Mount Mindolluin against the light of the fading day.  "Bilbo told me of mountains, but I'd never thought to see so very many of them--far more than he'd ever hinted to me existed in the world.  And these are the White Mountains, and those the Mountains of Shadow."  He looked back and forth between the peak that overlooked the city and the walls of Mordor.  "And now the sunlight falls there, and they are shadowed no longer.  What will your children know them as, I wonder?"

            Faramir shrugged and he leaned forward, his forearms resting on the top of the parapet and his hands clasped.  "I suspect eventually the name for them will be changed, although when that might be who can say?  It is odd--I'd never thought the day would come when I would have children--or at least I've not thought so since years before I was accounted a Man grown.  And now--mostly due to the efforts of you and your friend Samwise, it is likely that I will."  After a moment of mutual silence, he asked, "And for you--there in your own land of the Shire--is there one you love as I find I love the Lady Éowyn?"

            He noted the stillness that had fallen on the Hobbit immediately, although he could see no physical difference in his stance, and little change even in his expression.  Yet he sensed an invisible wall had long ago been erected about this one's heart, a wall he'd managed to prod with his questions.  At last there was an answer, uttered in a distant voice:  "Once I thought to marry, but she chose another in the end.  That was many years ago, then, before I was even of age--and before It came to me."  Faramir remained still to see if Frodo would say any more on the subject, for he found himself markedly curious.  At last, in a determinedly casual tone, Frodo continued, "Perhaps once I was considered desirable--but now?  I've sold away the beautiful home and gardens I inherited and own now but a country house in Buckland, some miles from Brandy Hall.  I'm now definitely identified in the minds of the folk of the Shire as old Mad Baggins's equally mad Baggins heir, who's hared off out of the Shire on a second mad adventure.  When I return with my finger gone and my health in a shambles, who would even dream of considering me, do you think?  And who would I seek to inflict myself on?"

            "Surely once your folk understand where you went and why----"

            Frodo turned his face upward defiantly.  "You think they will understand?  Your typical Bolger or Brockhouse cares nothing at all for aught that happens outside the Shire, and from what I can tell only a very few folk saw the Black Riders when they came seeking me."

            Faramir felt himself stiffen in shock.  "They went there--the Nazgul?"

            Frodo nodded as he looked again out at the Ephel Duath where the sunlight lingered.  "Yes--they had learned that a Hobbit of the Shire named Baggins found It beneath the Misty Mountains seventy-eight years ago, and came in search of It--fortunately arriving as we were leaving Hobbiton.  They pursued us all the way to Rivendell."

            "When they came across the bridge in Osgiliath----"

            "You knew of that?"  His blue eyes were examining Faramir intently.

            "We were there--Boromir and I, when they came across it.  We could not hold them back, but pulled down the bridge after them and leapt in to swim the water to the western shore.  We thought to make a barrier of the river itself, as though it, too, were a wall, that no others might easily enter our lands and slay our folk."  Troubled to learn why the Nazgul had crossed the Anduin, Faramir turned his own eyes back toward Osgiliath. 

            Frodo was still examining him, however.  "So--you have felt their terror twice as they crossed the river, then--when they came across to seek the Shire, and when they came across this time with their army."  He shook himself and also looked off eastward.  "We saw them march out of the Morgul Vale.  It seemed that there was no end to the line of Men and orcs."  He shuddered.  "The Ring--It wished for me to put It on to reveal myself, but this time--this time I fought It successfully."  He shuddered again, and looking at him Faramir saw how very pale he'd gone.

            "You were very brave," Faramir said, "continuing on in the face of that terror."

            "What else could I do?" Frodo asked.  "There was no means to return home save to go through--through Mordor.  You were braver--leading your Men back there after you'd come back here.  Pippin and Gandalf both told me of it, and how Gandalf and the second time Prince Imrahil rode out to offer support to you and your Men.  They tell me that your Men would follow you anywhere, so deeply did they trust you; and that until the Southron dart took you they stayed by you in spite of--them."

            Faramir nodded.  For a time they stood together in silence.  Finally Frodo continued in a low voice, "Hobbits of the Shire aren't going to understand all this, you know.  Most of them are happy to think that nothing that might be outside the bounds of the Shire has anything to do with us.  And although there was a time I felt my countrymen needed something to waken them to the realization that there is more to the world of Arda than just the four Farthings and Buckland, now--now I don't want them to have to understand just how awful things have too often been in the outer world.  I don't wish them to have to learn of the nature of evil, of betrayals and ambushes, assassinations and warfare, orcs and trolls and other evil creatures."

            "You would wall out the rest of the world?"

            "I doubt such a thing is even possible, but, yes, I suppose that I would."

            After a time, the new Steward of Gondor took a deep breath, held it briefly, then expelled it.  "It is unlikely they can remain truly ignorant of the rest of the world forever, Master Baggins."

            "Probably not," agreed Frodo reluctantly.  "But I'd rather my folk didn't learn to live in fear and suspicion as so many Men have had to do, or to know the great grief of the Elves.  I try to think of my young cousin Geli having to see her beloved Sancho losing a leg due to a Southron sword or weeping over him with an orc arrow embedded within him, and it turns my heart cold.  Or to think of little Pando having to face a line of trolls--for all he loves to play at Túrin and the dragon, I'd never wish his life to truly be in danger."

            "But if he is never tried, Frodo, how can he ever learn of what he is capable?"

            Frodo nodded again, thoughtfully, looking out once more at the darkening sky over what had been Mordor, and then straightened, smiling softly, to see the star of Eärendil beginning to shine there, to the east.  "Bilbo was the one to tell me of the first time the Gil-estel was seen shining in the sky, just before the Valar came to oppose the growing might of Morgoth and his forces.  While we were in Mordor, there was one night when the winds were strong enough to sweep away the wall of clouds some, enough that Sam could see it shining down on us there.  I was too lost to pay much heed--if I gave any, I suppose.  I barely remember it, although he's spoken of it a few times since we awoke.  Star and crown of blossoms--common enough sights, but how they helped reassure us that Sauron didn't understand the simple hope that infects all life that can appreciate beauty."  He smiled more fully.  "It was worth it, I think--all that time of grief and misery, knowing that my beloved cousins won't lose all their innocence as so many out here have had to do."

            "To know that my children may have to fight at times to protect what is good and worthy, but not against the overwhelming evil that sought to claim us," Faramir agreed.

            The two of them stood so for some time longer, and in time Faramir realized that he'd covered Frodo's hand with his own.  For all this Hobbit had been fenced about by the legacy of the Ring--yet that barrier had now been breached, and it was the Man's hope one day the remains of that wall would tumble down completely and be buried beneath vines of colorful blossoms.



Re: October 2007 Birthdays - In Absentia?

I don't know if I even have the right to ask for drabbles, since I've been absent from LOTR fandom for months now.

But: tomorrow is my birthday. I'll be 32 on October 23, which has a funny ring to it, I think.

So if you still remember me and the muses are kind, I'd love to read a drabble that is about


a play on numbers - like my birthday (32/23)


since I've been absent so much, a drabble about exactly that: absence, about someone or something, who/which is absent, for a shorter or longer period of time, for a good or a bad reason

(The reason for my absence is that I'm incredibly busy in my offline life and that my online life is currently dominated by another fandom.)




"Hold me in peace while sleeping. Wake me with the sun's smiling. With pure water slake my thirst. Let me be merry in your love."
- Madeleine L'Engle



For Juno

Here's something for you, Juno. I even managed to include a bit of numer play in the absence-theme. Hope you enjoy. Beware the fact that it's neither spellchecked no beta-ed, neither is a thing available to me at the moment.

A date's irony

March 15th, year 8 4th age

"I think that it is a good thing that we do not celebrate the victory of the Pelennor fields," Aragorn observed.

Arwen looked up from the window seat where she was doing some needle work. "Mm," she replied through closed lips, her needle still pressed between them. Then, "what brings you to that thought now, beloved?"

"Halbarad would have been a hundred years today, which is, I think, quite a bit of irony. He is the only one I knew who managed to die on his birthday, which, when one thinks about it, does not really surprise me. He himself even joked about it while we were still on the ship - how he managed to count the days I know not - that our well-wishes to him would be in vain this year, but at least his dying on that day would make it easier for us not to forget his birthday for even a longer time than the ten years that he no longer dwells among us.

"And I must say that his words proved to be true. I miss him enormously, you surely do realize, and today even more than on any other day of the year. So I thought that it was a good thing not to have a celebration on this day."

"I see," she answered simply, deciding not to interrupt him and to let him speak what was on his mind at the moment.

"Whenever we could, we would celebrate our birthdays together, which are, after all, only fifteen days apart. A beer or a little bag of pipeweed bought for the other would not come amiss. and we found each other with length and width of the wilds of Eriador between us, we would shamelessly use the erand runners and include a letter or package amongst the reports. We called it the "captain's liberty", for one thing we had to have in lack of a kingdom." Aragorn fell silent and shook his head. "But now there are no longer small gifts or letters, and never were there grand feast as would befit a kinsman of the king. Now I can only remember the date of both his birthday and day of his death."


March 1st, year 120 4th age

As I leave the Citadel for the last time and make my way toward Rath Dinen, I cannot help but think that I am the author of irony myself. My thoughts turn towards Halbarad, who I will follow by making my birthday my death-day also. I have chosen this day because I thought it somehow appropriate, not, of course, because Halbarad managed to do the same, but because it seems fitting to leave the world on the same date as I entered it. It makes a full 210 years; and I am contend. I have had many friends during the long years of my life, saw them enter my life and some even died in my arms. And now it is my time and I welcome it, for it is time indeed for a meeting at long last beyond the Halls of Mandos.



Re: For Juno

Poignant and well written. The last section holds the promise of Aragorrn and Halbarad meeting once again.



Re: For Juno

Oh, thank you so much, Vilwarin!

That is indeed very poignant. Sad and sombre, but not despairing. I sense a lot of acceptance in it, an embrace of life and the living.





Re: October 2007 Birthdays - In Absentia?


For Juno - happy birthday!


Counting The Days

It had been six months - though it felt more like six years - since Elladan had been gone; on a long patrol across the Misty Mountains and north to Forodwaith and Carn Dûm, then south again.   Though he had been kept busy with his own duties, Elrohir still felt the absence keenly.  He missed his brother and his constant companionship.  But this was not the first time, nor would it be the last. 

Soon though, Elladan would be home again, and they would stay up half the night talking.  Soon.  With a sigh, Elrohir marked another notch on the tally stick.



Re: October 2007 Birthdays - In Absentia?

Awwww... that is so sweet. I can absolutely see him doing that.

Thank you so much!


~ Juno 



Re: October 2007 Birthdays - In Absentia?

I'm glad you liked this.   Although I see the twins as pretty much inseparable, I'm sure there were times in the course of their duties and responsibilities when they had to work apart.



For Juno -- "Birthday Present"

A drouble-and-a-half (250 words) about absences and birthdays for Juno!


Birthday Present 

Bilbo stopped at Great Smials on his way home, and as he settled by the fire with his pipe he saw a curly head peek out from behind the chair opposite him.

"Well, come here, lad."

Paladin Took's family were also guests at Great Smials and it was the youngest child, Pippin, who came around the edge of the chair.

"You've been gone for a very long time," the small boy scolded, standing with hands on hips in such an imperious manner that Bilbo had to bite back a chuckle. If Ferumbras passed the Thainship to Paladin's line, there was no doubt the boy would slip right into the role someday.

"I've been away visiting the elves," Bilbo said, but unlike Merry's excited squeal at that news, Pippin just continued to scowl at him.  "Whatever is the matter, lad?"

"You weren't here for your birthday," Pippin complained.

Bilbo blinked a few times, then chuckled. So that's what this was all about! "I seem to owe you a present then, don't I?" He patted his knee. "Well, come on up here then."

Pippin's round little face broke into a wide grin and he scrambled up to sit on Bilbo's lap. Bilbo patted the boy's head. "Are you sure you wouldn't want a different present this year?"

"No!" Pippin said, shaking his head and pouting.

"All right, lad." Bilbo took a puff of his pipe, thinking of an appropriate gift for his small cousin, then smiled. "Well, then. Once upon a time..."



Re: For Juno --


This is SO sweet. And perfect. Birthday AND absence. And Bilbo. And Pip. And a story.


Thank you so much.

Heart Heart Heart




To the birthday people and drabblers!


this is a general reminder and request for the birthday people to please create workshop stories for their gifts - only in this way can they participate in the monthly birthday challenges. Another advantage is that in this way, you have all your gifts in one place.

And drabblers, if you have written a drabble, please remember to put your present in the appropriate workshop story! Please also remember that you don't need to enter your story separately to the respective monthly challenge - this is then responsibility of the respective birthday people with their workshop stories.

If you need help with setting up a workshop story, entering it into the monthly challenges or adding a story to a workshop story, please ask me.

Still open are the birthday challenges for July, September and - of course - October. I am going to wait with closing all those until all workshop stories are created and entered into their respective challenge month.




Re: October 2007 Birthdays

Well, Raksha and Peregrin Ionad, then perhaps this is for both of you!  Do enjoy.

Concerning Walls


I do love this piece, Faramir talking with Frodo on a fairer day, as they had prayed would happen when they were both under the threat of the Shadow.  Excellent dialogue as usual, and what a shame that Faramir's hope for Frodo was fulfilled at so high a price.

Belated thanx, Larner!





Re: For Juno

This was very moving,Vilwarin.

I always believed Aragorn would greatly miss Halbarad,




Wise Councel - For Raksha

Happy Birthday, Raksha.

I don't usually either write birthday stories or Gandalf,so this might not be the most polished of stories,but I tried to write it to fit your request.

Hope you have a great birthday,


The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate

Wise Counsel

"So how do you like the new King?" Gandalf asked, settling himself on a bench beside Faramir. It was a beautiful day and the young Steward was enjoying the clear sunshine after so long under the shadow of Sauron.


"I like him very well. He shows kindness and nobility, justice and mercy. He is truly the greatest that now lives. He restored my life!" Faramir replied, his eyes shining. "He is somewhat different to what I imagined a king be, though. He is like my father in his lordly bearing, yet quite different in his manner."


Gandalf chuckled. "I have known Aragorn for many years. He is unique amongst Men. You and he will work well together, methinks."


Faramir looked doubtful "I was never born to wield the White Rod. Will I make a worthy Steward?"


"You will learn, just as Aragorn will learn to be a good King," the Wizard replied.


"He has the wisdom of your counsel, " said Faramir. "How could he be otherwise?"


"My time here is almost ended," said Gandalf. "It is you who will help Aragorn rule, not I!"


"Alas!" said Faramir. "I shall miss you, Mithrandir. You were ever a good friend."


"And you have proved a wise and diligent pupil," said the old Wizard. The Age of Men that is now dawning. The Elves will soon depart, as must I. Would you begrudge an old man the laying down of his burdens? This mortal frame grows frail and I would return to my true form beyond the Sundering Seas. Do not, grieve, dear boy, Know that I shall never be far from you. My foresight tells me you will prosper greatly under Aragorn's rule. Your deeds have already won you renown and you will do greater deeds still!"


 "It was Boromir who showed true greatness, not I!" Faramir protested. "How can I hope to fill his shoes?"


"Who would have thought that Hobbits, rather than warriors could defeat Sauron or a Ranger become King? Why then, should a younger son not make as great a Steward as the elder might have been, or even a better and wiser one? You mourn your brother, and rightly so, but do not dwell in his shadow, nor that of your father. You are wise, Faramir. You resisted the Ring when your brother could not. You fought bravely against the shadow that overcame your father. You can face the future with hope and gladness. "


"Your words are wise, my friend," Faramir said thoughtfully. "I have been given a chance to help restore Gondor to her former glory. I have won the heart of the fairest lady that lives. Gladly, will I serve my lord! The White Tree blossoms! Never did I think I would live to see such marvels!"


Gandalf smiled and rose to his feet. "I see your lady approaching, and I must attend to other matters. You were meant to see these days of joy. Maybe everything is exactly as it should be." 





Re: October 2007 Birthdays

Hello Raksha,

please remember to create your birthday workshop story, so people can put in their presents for you.




Re: October 2007 Birthdays

Hello Pergerin,

please create a birthday workshop story for people to put in the stories they have written you as gifts. Any questions on how to do this? Don't hesitate to ask me.




For Raksha

Happy birthday to you, Raksha!

Here my drabble for you (I may still change the title, though).



A quiet Moment between Friends

"If you will excuse me – the herb-master will be getting impatient."

Winking at Faramir's snort, Éowyn headed for the stillroom, after a last radiant smile at her intended and the other occupant of the blanket.

Gandalf fondly noticed Faramir admiring her retreating form, quiet peace in his eyes – and his full heart.

Granting him a moment of daydreaming, he reflected on his own joy and satisfaction at his young friend's obvious happiness. Then:

"My lad, may I recall your attention to my sorry old bones..."

"Ha! Of course, Mithrandir... Well, we have agreed on a betrothal in Rohan and then..."



Re: Wise Councel - For Raksha

Happy Birthday, Raksha.

I don't usually either write birthday stories or Gandalf,so this might not be the most polished of stories,but I tried to write it to fit your request.

Hope you have a great birthday,


The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate

Wise Counsel

A wonderful vignette between these two friends, the wizard and his "pupil".  Thanx much, Linda.  I particularly liked Gandalf's assurance that Faramir was meant to survive; and that perhaps things were meant to work out as they have. 




Re: For Raksha

Happy birthday to you, Raksha!

Here my drabble for you (I may still change the title, though).



A quiet Moment between Friends

Thanx for this great little drabble, Imhiriel; and forgive my tardiness; I'm behind on just about everything.  It's marvelous to see Faramir relaxing and daydreaming; and Mithrandir's reaction is right on target.




Re: For Raksha

Thanx for this great little drabble, Imhiriel; and forgive my tardiness; I'm behind on just about everything.

You're very welcome, Raksha! And it's okay: as you like the drabble, in this way, you have received a nice little present even after your birthday Smile!

It's marvelous to see Faramir relaxing and daydreaming; and Mithrandir's reaction is right on target.

Thank you! I had much fund playing around with ideas for this drabble and speculating about the before and after of what we actually see.




In Forums

Discussion Info

Intended for: General Audience

This forum is open to all HASA members. It is read-only for the general public.

Membership on HASA is free and it takes only a few minutes to join. If you would like to participate, please click here.

If you are already a member, please log in to participate.

« Back to HASA Birthday Cards Forum