Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 24 |
| Mythology (Eärendil, Elwing, others) |
| B2MeM Challenge: n33 Canon Couples: Eärendil/Elwing Format: Drabble pair Genre: I have no idea. Historio-meta-ish? Biographical? You be the judge... Rating: General Warnings: None. Though, historians, please be easy on me. Characters: Eärendil, Elwing, Cynewulf, Tolkien Pairings: Eärendil/Elwing Summary: Tolkien once said that he created Muddle-earth to be a mythology for England. "The world looks so dreary under their lights," the woman said, while her eyes bent down below toward the writer. "We have known our share of darkness, you and I," said the man at the wheel, circling her waist, pulling her ever nearer, protecting, comforting. "Why should it be different now?" "They have forgotten." "Us?" "Everything," she whispered, almost the forlorn girl he had first met. The mariner kissed her forehead and smiled, almost the same smile he had smiled when her sorrow had first pierced him." "Not after tonight," he said, and made the descent. "Cynewulf awaits." *** In times of war people look to the past, and this war was no different. People banding together under a common flag, a common cause, look for reasons to stay together, and a common past provides that in good measure. It was while all of this was happening around him that a young man with a scholarly turn of mind happened upon an old manuscript that called to the depths of his soul "for its great beauty." Like Cynewulf of old, he had been visited by the majesty of great Eärendil, the Mariner. And, for years after him, the world. éala éarendel engla beorhtast / ofer middangeard monnum sended "Hail Earendel, brightest of angels, over Middle-earth to men sent" (from Crist, by Cynewulf) ~the end A/N: The second Drabble makes reference to the resurgence of interest in Anglo-Saxon during the wars, as per Michael Drout, a scholar whose work I really enjoy. I claim "poetic license" for all the inaccuracies. |