Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 10 |
| Hidden on the Mountain |
On Mount Mindolluin, in the high hallow, "where only the kings had been wont to go". MEFAwards 2006: Nominee – Times: The Great Years: Gondor Fixed-Length Ficlet |
| I remember being plucked from my bough. Rough hands, callused with age, holding me softly despite it. Bearing me away in the night, swiftly, silently. Ever higher up to a cold place, the wind blowing relentlessly. Whispered words bade me sleep, and endure, until the time should be right. Now I am awake, stirred from long sleep by a Shadow departed and the joyous cry of an Eagle. Those old hands are nearby. But other hands cradle me. Rough hands, callused by the sword. But gentle, oh so gentle. Whispered words thank me, bless me. Gladly, I relinquish my hold. |
A/N: - The title is a quote from the corresponding scene in RotK, The Steward and the King. - The premise of the drabble is based on the entries in the Tale of Years (RotK, Appendix B) for the years 2850-2852. 10.04.06 Inspired by my own B-drabble request for 2006: a tale about the New White Tree. |