Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 33 |
| Cold be Hand and Heart and Bone |
Something disturbs the eternal rest of the last prince of Cardolan. MEFAwards 2008: Honorable Mention – Races: Villains: Fixed-Length Ficlets |
| It was pitch-dark in the ancient barrow, its entrance barred by massive slabs of stone. The blood reverently washed away from his spear-wound, the prince was laid out, in the company of his forefathers’ forefathers. His apparel was of befitting richness, packed by some servant even in hasty retreat from Angmar; in his hands a blue-jewelled brooch, loving token from his lady. Out of the depths of the mound, a figure, barely visible in a sudden wan, eerie light, crept towards the bier. A cold, harsh whisper chanted repugnant, bone-freezing incantations. A groping hand touched the body... The prince stirred. |
A/N: - Title and inspiration from FotR, Fog on the Barrow-downs. - “It is said that the mounds of Tyrn Gorthad [...] are very ancient, and that many were built in the days of the old world of the First Age by the forefathers of the Edain[...] Some say that the mound in which the Ring-bearer was imprisoned had been the grave of the last prince of Cardolan, who fell in the war of 1409. (RotK, Appendix A I (iii)) 18.10.06 B-drabble for IgnobleBard, who requested a scary story with a frightening theme or unexpected twist. |