Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 10 |
| Birthday Insta-Drabbling: March 24, 2005 |
All the following were for another insta-drabbling challenge: drabble for birthday requests, plus use the required random words. All birthday requests were taken from March, and one from April. |
| Replacements - clothing, exotic, mysterious, and shipwreck. For Forodwaith. Queen Arwen has dressed in the manner of our kingdom, abandoning elven styles in favor of our mortal variations. Rich velvets exchanged for flowing silks, embroidery for simple lines. She has replaced her clothing as well as her life, I muse. My father said the elven-folk feel sorrows and joys more intensely than we do. We feel a pang at the loss of a rowboat, he said, while the elves feel a shipwreck’s devastation. I feel sudden warmth for this exotic queen, who traded Valar’s grace for unbreakable love. “I am Lothíriel of Dol Amroth, my lady. Welcome to Gondor.” Memory’s Sake - pristine, maternal, altered, and completed. For Agape4Gondor. Double drabble. A light touch along the dusty surface, raising the scent of old roses and musty perfumes. Once, this dresser was pristine and free of dust. Finduilas had arranged his collection of seashells here with such maternal pride that he thought his face would crack from smiling. She had spent hours with him, setting out arrangement after altered arrangement on the dark surface, until they finally completed it. “I am proud of you,” she said. The dead are gone, and they will ne’er return. Yet still, for memory’s sake, he took the small white handkerchief from the drawer, and pocketed it. Later that night, sleepless and studying the delicate embroidery, he slipped out of bed and began to roam the halls. His wandering feet led him all over the Citadel, until he finally ended up before his father’s study, seeing a flickering light from the door, which stood ajar. His father stood by the window, staring out at the skies. His gaze was absent, remote. When he glanced back to see his son waiting by the door, he beckoned, and Boromir walked over. Father and son stood in silence, watching the night pass by, and both thought of the same person. Mastery - the number 23 and mock, books, finite, play, knots, impartial. For Nasira. Half drabble. And twenty-three and twenty-four... Unraveling the crystal’s riddle has yielded dozens of failed attempts. Success is finite, and numerous scars now play across his hands: the flames are impartial and implacable masters. Knots of ruined gems mock him, and chant his failures for the world to hear. Brilliant light… Success. |