Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 25 |
| The Summons |
Prompt: Gondor: There was no avoiding it; the letter had to be composed... Who will receive this letter? An uncle? A lover? The High-King? Why is there "no avoiding it"? Circumstances? Or is Mother watching with arms crossed? Will the letter be written in haste? Or will each phrase be meticulously crafted? Write a story or poem inspired by this line (you do not need to use the exact quote), or create a piece of art that reflects this situation. |
| The sun was setting. Below, Pelennor lay deep in shade that stretched ever eastward... Denethor sat in his wife's dayroom, transfixed, but not by beauty. The light was going out, the world with it. Beneath his hand lay paper and pen, insubstantial as he felt. A knock startled him. “My lord?” the servant girl said. “My lady asks for you.” Finduilas! “A moment!” Suddenly impatient, fearful of relentless-flowing time, he snatched the pen. Words fell from it like nightfall: |