Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 37 |
| Transformation |
The Prince of Dol Amroth takes possession of a royal gift. MEFAwards 2007: Honorable Mention – Races: Men: General Drabble |
| The Prince of Dol Amroth, usual dignity befitting his high station forgotten, is up in the dromund’s rigging, clad only in sailor’s breeches and a loose half-open linen shirt, his hair carelessly bound in a leather thong. He laughs gaily at a curious gull circling close before he looks down again, admiring the sleek lines of the vessel promising swiftness even without use of oars. First: spoils of war – one of the ships captured at Pelargir. Then: a truly kingly gift. “Now!” Imrahil calls down, to smile proudly as the blue banner is hoisted, silver swan-ship glinting in the sun. |
A/N: - “...they beheld a fleet borne up on the wind: dromunds, and ships of great draught with many oars, and with black sails bellying in the breeze.“ (RotK, The Battle of the Pelennor Fields) 30.11.06 |