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Title: Assorted drabbles (#1567)
Author: Marta
Chapters: 28
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Archive: Tolkien
Category: Lord of the Rings
Description: Various and assorted drabbles (stories that are exactly one hundred words long), double drabbles, etc. Most were written for birthdays over at http://www.henneth-annun.net/
NEW- "WE SHALL RETURN" - The thoughts of one of the followers of Castamir's sons, written for Dwimordene's birthday.
Published: 01 Feb 2005
Updated: 02 May 2005
Warnings: adult themes, erotic content
Type: Drama
Characters: Aragorn; Asfaloth; Beregond; Bergil; Bilbo; Bill t
Chapter 1 - Call on the Wind, A (Ring War) (Boromir, Éomer, Théodred)
Éomer hears Boromir's last horn call.
*****
The horn’s blast split the crisp dusk air, like a dwarf’s axe cleaving a first-year sapling.
He remembered that sound. Always before setting forth Boromir of Gondor sounded his horn, if his rider’s gossip could be trusted. Eomer thought that vain and proud, but brave -- all of which fitted the marshal’s impression of the Captain-General from the short time they had spent together last summer.
The horse had returned riderless, and his cousin throught Boromir dead. A new enemy stirred near Isengard. Theodred was often called to lead his men in skirmishes there, risking his own life and theirs to defend the Fords of Isen.
But Boromir’s horn sounded from the east. The horse had returned riderless, but the rider had survived -- for a while, at least. Hope, like a flame, flickers in the breeze -- but it it defies the night and the wind does not blow it out. Not yet.
Chapter 2 - Three for the Elven-lords (Second Age) (Celeborn, Galadriel)
Galadriel accepts her ring; Celeborn's thoughts.
*****
"Tis a thing of beauty, is it not?" Galadriel ran her finger over the white gem.
"It is," I said slowly. "But I have seen other things that appeared beautiful -- at first."
She saw the Two Trees in all their glory, and the jewels in which her kinsman captured their light. Jewels which brought death to my kinsmen.
I had seen other trees, in Middle-earth; not as glorious, perhaps, as those of Aman, but beautiful to me.
Did she not understand? Would she accept Celebrimbor's gift? Very well. Nothing good would come of it, but I would stand by her.
Chapter 3 - Anniversary (post-The Hobbit) (Bilbo, Dwarves)
Several years after returning to the Shire, some of Bilbo's dwarven companions visit him in Bag End.
*****
"Esgaroth flourishes?"
"The river still runs gold, so they say."
Bilbo smiled. "Fifty years... I can hardly believe it. And what news from Erebor?"
Bifur's smile widened. "The rivers may soon run true-silver, if our hopes be not cheated. Balin has set out for Moria --"
Bilbo coughed on the pipeweed-smoke he had inhaled. Moria! The Lonely Mountain held many treasures, and the skill to forge new ones. But beneath Khazad-dûm lay wealth beyond any dwarf's dream. What an adventure!
He would follow Balin someday. The Took heart still beat in his breast. Adventure would call him ere the end - but not quite yet.
Chapter 4 - Can't Take His Medicine (Ring War) (Pippin, Merry, Orcs)
The Orcs try to heal Merry orc-style on the march across Rohan.
*****
Rough hands grabbed Merry by the shoulders, forcing him upright. His world whirled around him: grass and sky, the occasional tree, and the laughing horde of Orcs all around.
The bandage was ripped off; those hands rubbed a rancid salve into his forehead. "Can't take his medicine!" the harsh voices jeered.
Uglúk forced the draught down Merry. The hobbit gagged and spewed, but some crept down his throat. His leg bonds were cut, and Merry was pulled to his feet. Pale, yes, grim and defiant -- but very much alive.
He turned to face his cousin and smiled wanly. "Hullo, Pip."
Chapter 5 - Chasing and Burg'ling (post-Ring War) (Frodo, Gaffer)
Returning from the Shire, Frodo must explain himself and his adventures to the Gaffer.
*****
"...That's what started all the mischief," the Gaffer rambled on, hands on his hips, "... chasing Black Men up mountains, though what for he don't make clear..."
Frodo grimaced and took a long pull on his tankard. Even after all his adventures, that tongue still withered his ears.
"...Just like your uncle, burg'ling dragons..."
Burgling... burgling dragons?
Frodo wiped away snorted ale. But those words held truth. Bilbo had burgled dragons. A regular there-and-back-again adventure. And now... now Bilbo was safe. Free.
"... and ruined my taters!"
Frodo smiled at his neighbour, chuckling. "I shall do my best to make amends."
Chapter 6 - Failed Foresight (post-Ring War) (Faramir, Elrond, Pippin)
After the War of the Ring, Elrond and Faramir discuss Pippin.
*****
I had often been called farsighted, and yet -- and yet I would have sent the halfling home. Seeing him now, in the Tower garb, I wondered if the wisdom of Elrond had failed.
"You doubted him as well?" I turned and saw the Steward standing at my side, his eyes troubled.
"I did," I said after a moment. "I wished that he had returned to the Shire."
At that Faramir chuckled. "So did I. I would have spared him this." The weariness left his face. He placed his hand on my forearm. "But that was not for us to decide."
Chapter 7 - Fear! Fire! Foes! (Ring War) (Fatty, Nazgûl)
Fatty warns the Bucklanders about the Black Riders in the Shire.
*****
Awake! Fear! Fire! Foes!
The call resounded across the Buckland, waking those who would hear. Danger -- it did not matter what sort -- had come.
Fatty collapsed against the door-bolster, heaving for breath. The mile-long sprint had been too much for him, the hobbit family thought. If they only knew.
If they knew what Fatty had seen, they would have froze where they stood. No bell would have rung.
Black horses. That cursed wind that stole his breath. Pillow-feathers flying, doors broken in, and the blood-curdling scream.
They little guessed the danger. Yet that brave, stuttering hobbit saved the Shire. Until tomorrow.
Chapter 8 - Foul Brew (Ring War) (Pippin, Orcs)
Pippin drinks the orc-draught on the march across Rohan.
*****
Pippin pulled himself to his hands and knees, gagging. The foul brown draught ran down his chin and onto the grass.
He tried to forget the taste, remembering pleasanter drinks: Ale at the Golden Perch and around Farmer Maggot's table. Gildor's amber drink. The miruvor in Moria.
He spat out the rust from the flask and some of the foul brew but could not keep from swallowing the rest. It seeped down his throat, invading his gut. His blood boiled. A thousand flames burned his flesh. His spirit fumed.
The Took staggered to his feet. Yes, he could go on.
Chapter 9 - The Heirs of Isildur (Third Age- Chieftains) (Elrond, MC Northern Dunadan)
An early-morning encounter between Elrond and one of Isildur's heirs.
*****
The Half-elf sat up and squinted in the early-morning light pouring through the windows, now deprived of their drapes.
"Aravir? Why are you...?"
The six-year-old scowled at him. "My name is not Aravir."
Elrond shook his head, trying to focus his mind. Of course not. Aravir had been speared by an orc-captain; that was nigh fifty years ago.
"Argonui?"
The child stomped over to the bed, placing his hands on his hips. "My. Name. Is. Arador." The future chieftain stormed out of the room.
Why must Isildur have so many heirs? Elrond hurried after the child to apologise.
Chapter 10 - High King and Halfling (Thirde Age- kings of Arthedain) (MC dunadan, MC hobbit)
Argeleb grants the Fallohide brothers permission to settle the Shire.
*****
Argeleb settled into his throne and glared at his advisor. Why today, of all days...
"We found a hilly region beyond the Baranduin, your majesty, and --"
Argeleb raised one hand for silence, massaging his temple with the other. He had wanted to dismiss the court, but Marcho was persistent. The king was none too pleased with the woolly-toed nuisance standing before him. Luckily, he knew the quickest way to gain some peace.
He sighed heavily. "Just speed my messengers, acknowledge my lordship, and this land is yours -- what did you call it again?"
Marcho smiled warmly at that. "The Shire."
Chapter 11 - His Lady's Horse (Third Age- pre-Ring War) (Aragorn, Halbarad)
Halbarad brings Aragorn a gift from Rivendell.
*****
The dusk light had nearly faded to evening's grey, but no matter. A ranger's ears can hear a man approach. Eight hoofsteps.
"Halbarad."
He dismounted, leading the new horse toward me.
"All was well in Imladris?"
He smiled knowingly. "Aye, she lives."
I turned to face him. "I did not ask of Arwen --" But then I saw the horse. I knew that proud back, that hardy coat. A horse of the Valley.
Halbarad leaned close. "The lady is well, and wishes you the same."
'Twas good it was so dark. A ranger did not smile so foolishly at a horse.
Chapter 12 - Homeward Bound (Third Age- post-Ring War) (Sam, Nob, Bill the Pony)
During the stay in Bree on the return journey from Minas Tirith to the Shire, Nob reunites Sam with an old friend.
*****
Nob leaned against the wall and absentmindedly flicked at the wooden latch. He'd watched Master Underhill and all ride off with that scraggly ranger months ago, and he'd watched them come back with that scraggly wizard. He was glad to see them, but what he really wanted was his bed.
"Master Gamgee, are you ready for your bed?" he began, pushing the door open.
Sam bent his head, looking under the pony's neck. "My... my bed?"
Nob sighed, crossing the short distance to where Sam stood beside Old Ferny's animal. Not Ferny's... Nob thought. This pony was well-fed and not the least bit skittish. Bill's his name but not his master.
"We left him outside Moria," Sam said softly. "Was nothing short of murder, to leave him there - or so I thought." He dug into his pocket for a carrot which Bill gladly accepted. "But I was wrong." He nuzzled his head into Bill's mane and sighed contentedly. "I was born lucky, whatever my Gaffer may say."
Nob nodded. He understood; they'd both lived through their journeys, and now they were both going home. Together.
"Your bed's ready when you are," he said, leaving the two old friends to themselves.
Chapter 13 - Hope (Glorfindel, Asfaloth)
Glorfindel searches for Aragorn and the Hobbits.
*****
Asfaloth plodded along the road, his gait lacking its usual vigour. His bells clang together, devoid of their normal music.
Still we search, but what for? What hope is there to find them in the wilderness, with the Nine abroad?
Hope. His mind lingered on that word. What hope did he claim, that he might find Hope? Estel was lost, and all Middle-earth's hope. He sank into his steed's back, and Asfaloth guessed his master's despair.
But Asfaloth smelled a familiar scent on the wind. His step quickened, his bells sang. "Glorfindel!" the elf heard, and his heart rejoiced. Estel.
Chapter 14 - In Memoriam (Fourth Age) (Beregond, Bergil, Boromir)
Bergil and Beregond remember Boromir's sacrifice.
*****
I stood along Anduin's now-fair banks, gazing toward Minas Anor. "Aye, it is fair, father, but I do not see..."
Beregond shook his head. "Not west." He placed his hand on my shoulder and faced me toward the North. "Look to the site of Gondor's victory."
Of course I had heard the stories. How the Prince of the City was pierced by many arrows. How he had fallen but not faltered.
And then I understood. Our horn had been cloven, our chest pierced, but still Gondor strove on. Like Boromir.
The faithful jewel had not failed; he had conquered.
Chapter 15 - Kissing Leads to Trouble (Third Age- pre-Ring War) (Denethor, Boromir, Faramir)
One afternoon in Minas Tirith, Denethor discusses with a young Boromir and Faramir whether "kissing leads to trouble".
*****
"Boromir, you fool! You cannot kiss girls like that!"
Denethor turned and saw Faramir running down the corridor toward his brother. "Kiss girls how?" Boromir asked, glancing apprehensively toward Denethor.
"I too would like to know," Denethor added, fixing his son with an authoritative stare.
"'Twas nothing!" Boromir claimed.
"Nay, your governess said kissing girls like that leads to trouble, when she found you and Eseleth in the study."
Boromir blushed, but Denethor placed his hand on his shoulder. "Miriel spoke of serving-girls. 'Tis natural and healthy for boys Boromir's age to kiss young ladies -- when both feel free to refuse."
Chapter 16 - Knight's Service (Third Age- post-Ring War) (Merry, Pippin, Faramir, Éowyn)
Merry and Pippin are hunting for a late-night snack one night in Edoras -- and see a shared moment that Faramir and Éowyn would rather keep secret. Based on Tanaqui's piece "Later".
*****
Pippin watched Merry reach to the back of the shelf above his head. "Here we are," he said, retrieving a wheel of cheese - and several apples, fruit raining down and falling to the floor with a thump.
"Merry, be careful!" Pippin hissed in a low voice.
In the dim light Pippin saw his cousin shrug. The Took retrieved the bruised apples and placed them on their shelf, hurried back to the hall, and pulled the door shut.
"Don't you dare." The words might have been lost to other mortal ears, but hobbits are quick of hearing. Was that... Faramir? But what was he doing here? He inched down the side-passage where he had heard the voice.
Pippin glanced past the barely-opened door and saw Éowyn, her fingers interlocking with Faramir's, recovering from what Pippin guessed must have been a stolen kiss - a kiss both had waited long for, but which custom demanded be delayed yet further. A kiss the hobbits had interrupted.
He remembered berries, birds, and soaked tunics, shared glances and a promise of "Later". And other things: seeing-stones and fire, tales of valour and despair.
Let them have their peace. "Come on, Merry," he said, "I'm hungry."
Chapter 17 - Mercy (Third Age- The Hobbit) (Legolas, Bilbo, Dwarves)
Legolas intercepts Bilbo and the Dwarves as they try to cross Mirkwood on thier quest toward Erebor.
*****
"Daro!" Legolas cried into the night air. The shuffling sound of heavy boots on fallen leaves stopped.
"Nock your arrows," he whispered to the other elves, reaching into his own quiver and fitting a well-crafted feather to his bowstring. "What business have you in Greenwood?" he demanded, stepping into the clearing.
Never had he imagined he'd face twelve half-starved dwarves, huddling together. Yet there they were. The one in the tattered blue hood looked at him, the muddling effect of spiders' venom clear in his eyes.
"Easy," Legolas said to the guard beside him. "Tie their hands tightly - but not cruelly."
Chapter 18 - Night and Day (Third Age- Post-Ring War) (Gimli, Éomer, Arwen, Galadriel)
When they first met on the Plains of Rohan, Éomer said less-than-pleasing words about the Lady of the Golden Wood, and Gimli claimed this was only excusable because the Eorling had never met Galadriel. Now, after meeting both Arwen and Galadriel at Aragorn's wedding, Éomer discusses the two ladies with Gimli.
*****
"Master Gimli!"
I turned and saw the newly crowned king crossing the hall.
"Éomer King," I said, bowing so low my beard brushed the floor. "At your service."
"Aye, as you always have been." But the king's expression was deadly serious. I straightened myself and looked at him questioningly.
"I must beg your service once more. Have you your axe?"
"Nay. Should I send for it?"
Éomer sighed, but I caught the glint in his eye. "Perhaps. Harsh words still separate us." He spoke of the lady Galadriel: first of my lady's perilous beauty, then the wisdom of her eyes and her resplendent hair, more precious to me than mithril.
"And if I had but met her in different company, I would feel as you do, I am sure."
His eyes trailed to the queen Arwen, and my blood boiled. Aye, the queen was lovely, but she was no match for my lady.
"Should I send for my sword?"
Would these fair ladies bring us to blows, then? I mastered the legendary temper of my kind, and saw beyond his words: the love we bestowed was not so different.
"Nay. You chose the Evening; my love belongs to the Morning."
Chapter 19 - Not Alone (Third Age- Ring War) (Sam, Frodo, Elrond)
Sam, eavesdropping on the Council of Elrond, overhears Frodo volunteer to take the Ring to Mordor.
*****
The noon bell sang through the air, breaking the waterfalls' music, and still they talked on. Now, I'm no fool, and I like tales more than most, but there's a time for stories and there's a time for action.
And we all knew this was a time for action.
Who would go? Aye, that's why they'd been talking all morning. And still they asked. Elves, dwarves, that one man -- and Bilbo, volunteering to go all on his own? That's foolishness; he's too old.
"I shall take the ring."
On your feet, Sam-lad! "Not alone," I declare. "Not without me."
Chapter 20 - Raven and Gold (Third Age- post-Ring War) (Faramir, Éowyn, Aragorn, Arwen)
The first meeting of Éowyn Wraithbane and Arwen Evenstar.
*****
"May I introduce Eowyn, Lady of Rohan?"
Faramir's eyes twinkle with pride as we stand before the Queen. So this is the one who stole the new king's heart so many years ago? 'Tis hardly surprising. She is surpassing fair, Elven grace and Numenorean passion embodied.
Yet what does she see in me? Shield-maiden spurned? Nazgul-slayer? Oath-breaker? Last daughter of a cursed house, fit only for dogs and squalling children?
Faramir's hands shelter mine. What else might she see? Beloved of the Steward? Daughter of kings? Lady far from home facing a new world, for love?
"'Tis an honour, your majesty."
Chapter 21 - Small Hands (Third Age- Ring War) (Boromir, Bilbo)
At the Council of Elrond, Boromir sees Bilbo volunteer to take the Ring to Mordor.
*****
The little master stood before us all, his eyes stubborn. Aye, I did not doubt his courage, but how many steps lie down the long, foolish path this almighty council would send him on? Did he know? Surely his short legs could not carry him clear to Mordor?
Laughter swelled in my throat, and almost it escaped, but one look around silenced it. Pity I saw, and memory. And tears. Tears in every eye, that Isildur's thrice-cursed bane should come to this. Yet small hands may match a heart braver than a Captain-general's, it seems.
Nay, this was no jest.
Chapter 22 - So Other Men May Fight (Third Age- pre-Ring War) (Beregond, Bergil)
Bergil tries to convince his father to let him stay in Minas Tirith.
*****
Bergil glared at me, a defiant look in his eyes. "I am not going."
"Please, son, listen to reason..."
"I will not be sent away. You have always called me your little man. And if I am not yet old enough to wield a sword, surely I can help some other way, so other men may fight?"
If we could muster half that defiance, perhaps Gondor would stand, if only on one leg.
"Besides, Gelmir is staying."
And he would not abandon his friends. I sighed.
"Very well; you may stay."
Chapter 23 - The Soul of a Sinda (Third Age- post-Ring War) (Celeborn, Arwen, Ioreth)
Celeborn observes Arwen in the Houses of Healing, shortly after her marriage to Aragorn.
*****
Some would say I spend too much time in these gardens. I have heard the whispers: “Does the city not please the silver-haired one?” Yet I am an Elf, and a Sinda. I find my comfort in growing things, the simple pleasures of the cool earth, the forest's air, and not the stone fortresses of my lady's people.
Two voices drift from the herb-patch not far away. One form I recognize, but the other I cannot place. “My lady, beg your pardon, but as I said before, 'tis not proper for you to be here...”
The old voice cracks but it does not falter; she insists on detailing every reason Undomiel should leave such simple matters to the ladies of the Houses. Yet she does not seem so offended that she would rid herself of a ready audience for her complaints.
Arwen ignores her chatter; over the hedge, I see my granddaughter kneeling. Burrow, deposit, cover. I knew Aragorn wouldsee that the city never lacked for athelas again, but he would not ask his wife to plant it herself!
The soul of the Sindar still dwells in her, whatever choice she has made. She will make a fine queen.
Chapter 24 - The Steward and the King (Third Age- pre-Ring War) (Aragorn, Boromir)
Thorongil watches a young Boromir at play.
*****
Thorongil leaned back against the marble wall, his grim lips turning upward as the future steward played before him.
"Who are you fighting?" he asked, trying to hide his amusement.
The child looked over his shoulder, teetering to one side. Thorongil reached out his hand, steadying him.
"Orcs," Boromir answered matter-of-factly. "Father says we must always be ready." The wooden sword jabbed the air, and soon he was off again.
That babes should know that truth... He sighed. 'Twas necessary, he knew, and yet... The captain smiled wryly at the child's play. Come what may, here was valour worthy of Gondor.
Chapter 25 - To Shield a Shield-maiden (Third Age- pre-Ring War) (Éowyn, Théodred, GrÃma)
Théodred watches Éowyn practice her swordsmanship and muses on his cousin.
*****
Step. Turn. Block. Thrust. Again. These things I taught her, this dance of death I hoped she would never need use. But if fate demanded it, I would not withhold her, my cousin.
Yet I see the look in Raedbora Grima’s eyes. He would have her, replace the one warrior’s death with a thousand little ones.
If I strike now, will the Wormtongue’s counsel have poisoned my father’s heart against me? Now is the time to trust Eowyn’s strength. Rohan needs me.
Courage lies often in holding back, not always in striking, or so the ancient bards say.
*****
Note: Raedbora is Old English for “advisor”.
Note: The “little death” refers to orgasm; this idea of the warrior’s one death versus multiple “little deaths” was inspired by Fionnabhair Nic Aillil’s story “Freedom From Fear”, about Eowyn’s childhood in Rohan.
Chapter 26 - An Unexpected Gift (Third Age- pre-Ring War) (Denethor, Gandalf)
Gandalf has been searching the archives of Minas Tirith for information about Bilbo's ring. Now he must return to the Shire -- and Denethor would say goodbye.
*****
Gandalf walked around the old horse, examining her. Running his hand down one leg, he sighed as he felt the bump on her knee. So you have been ridden hard.
Taking a carrot from his pocket, he held it out invitingly. Her lips caressed Gandalf's palm; soon the carrot was devoured.
She is a poor beast indeed. But still... He saw that some fire still burned in her eyes. Her spirit thrived, if her body faltered. And he was not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Turning, he nodded at Denethor. "Thank you. 'Tis an unexpected gift, but welcome all the same."
Chapter 27 - We Shall Return (Third Age- Kinstrife) (Black Númenoreans)
The thoughts of one of the followers of Castamir's sons, after the Kinstrife.
*****
We shall return.
They may drive us from their cities, across the River and away to the South, but we shall return.
They may bring this Eldacar down from the North, but we will not bow to the son of such a house of his, long bereft of all lordship and dignity. I shall not bow.
Gondor loves her strong towers and walled cities, ploughed fields and orchards and stone silos. She has lost her roots: worshipping the land, forgetting Ossë's song.
We remember. We hold Pharazon's pillar, and we shall recall Numenor's majesty. Our fleets grow; our numbers swell.
We shall return.
Chapter 28 - Welcoming the Lady (Fourth Age) (Faramir, Éowyn)
Shortly after their wedding, Faramir takes Éowyn to Henneth Annûn, and the two share a private moment.
*****
Ducking through the waterfall, Éowyn let Faramir lead her the last few steps of the long path. Deft fingers loosened the knot in the blindfold. Secrecy was no longer strictly necessary, but she guessed Faramir had wanted to surprise her.
Slowly she spun round, taking in the cavern: once full, now populated with barrels of salted meat, wine, and other provisions, but not by men. They were alone.
As Éowyn turned to face the watery veil she sucked in her breath, the air whistling through her teeth. A song like that from a thousand harps rose from where the waterfall met the pool far below, and the setting sun glistened through the curtain, more brilliant than Meduseld's tapestries.
She felt Faramir's fingers entwine between her own. Reluctantly she turned from the waterfall and looked upon his face. Was that a smile on his solemn lips? 'Twould seem so!
He took a step forward, and she did not move back. He lifted his free hand and caressed her chin for a moment before slowly raising her lips to meet his own.
Aye, what a kiss! How could she have ever loved another, she wondered? But those days were gone.
Seconds that lasted an age passed, and yet the two lingered. Finally he pulled back. "Ithilien welcomes her lady," he said, "as do I.
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