The Stone Tree

Awakened by unsettled dreams, I see the elf walk by, singing. His voice reminds me of cavern streams splashing over rocks, catching lanterns' gleam in their spray. Elves are strange to me, but not this one. Eyes, deep as Khazad-dûm, are lit by the stars of Durin's crown in Kheled-zâram. Tall, he is, and strong like a stone spire jutting from a cave's floor.

He would not like that I compared him to stone, preferring always trees as elves do. That alone remains strange in him. For our friendship, I will call him a tree. A tree carved from stone.

1/11/2004

One Sound

He listens to night sounds while his companions and the horses sleep. Sleep eludes him. Sleep has eluded him since that day. He was not there that day when the orcs came. The decisions were not his. The responsibility was not his. But the failure was his. The failure of kingdom to ally was his. The failure of friend to friend was his.

Tomorrow, ally and friend will know of his failure.

For tonight, Legolas listens to night sounds while his companions and the horses sleep. One sound eludes him. One sound has eluded him since that day.

gollum, gollum

3/24/2004

Promise to a Newborn

Welcome, nephew.

We are your mother's brothers, elf-kind, as our father chose to be long ago. You will learn much of your father's kind, here in this city of men. But we shall teach you of our kind. We shall teach you of our peoples, of our songs, and of our times. Elf-kind is immortal; we will live to the end of the world, but not here in this city in this new Age of Men. After we sail, none of our kind will live here again, save in the remembrances you keep of us.

And so we shall teach.

4/15/2004

Which Way?

Legolas of the Elves feared not, where the others did, where I did.

Elladan -- Elf-Man -- I am called, two kinds in one name. Elven-raised, I believed myself Elf until I faced the Paths of the Dead.

Legolas of the Elves feared not, where the others did, where I did.

Am I Elf, as I believed? Or am I Man, as my fear declared?

I cannot be like my name, two kinds in one body. The Valar proclaimed that I must choose one.

Do I follow my childhood path to the West or this new path to the dead?

5/19/2004

"The company halted, and there was not a heart among them that did not quail, unless it were the heart of Legolas of the Elves, for whom the ghosts of Men have no terror."

The Passing of the Grey Company, The Return of the King
(Ballantine Books, August 1976 paperback edition, pg. 70)

You Ask Too Much

They returned with your letter instead of you.

You write you are escorting travelers unnamed to a place unspecified on a journey dire. You say you will accompany them through the Misty Mountains, depart, and turn homewards. Your words lie. You will not abandon those in need. That is not you. You will see them through journey's end.

You ask that I trust you. I do. For I am your king.

You vow that you love me. I know. For I am your father.

You beg that I not worry. I cannot. For I am your king and your father.

6/1/2004

A Place to be a One

A vine curtain, reaching from bough to blade, encircles Elrohir's Secret Place. No others know of it, not even Elladan.

Elrohir comes to his Place when he tires of being a Twin, when he wants to be a One like other elflings are. His Place is small like him -- seven Troll-Elrohir steps side to side, twelve Troll-Elrohir steps from crawl-through to stone elf maid. Summer sun filters through the tree boughs and falls on the statue. She is warm to his touch.

Elrohir likes the stone elf maid; she reminds him of Nana. But Stone Nana is his alone -- a Nana he does not have to share, as a Twin must often do. Frequently, he brings fruit to eat or small toys or books to read. Time passes pleasantly for him as Stone Nana watches over her One elfling.

But Elrohir is not truly a One and eventually misses Elladan. He hugs Stone Nana goodbye while promising to return. Toys and books in hand, he crawls out, leaving behind Elrohir the One, and becomes again Elrohir the Twin.

A vine curtain, reaching from bough to blade, encircles Elladan's Secret Place. No others know of it, not even Elrohir.

7/2/2004

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A/N:  Like the vines, the word count is a bit overgrown.  This is actually a double drabble (200 words).  I wrote this as a response to Karri's Summer Challenge on the Fluffings Yahoo Group.  Karri asked for a description of a fluffling's favorite place or way to spend a lazy summer day.  I'm not sure it meets the challenge's requirements, but I hope you enjoyed it anyway.

At the Top of the Stairs to the Hornburg

Hurry, men of Rohan, up the stairs to the gate, retreat! Orcs overwhelm us! You must gain safety!

Gimli, where is Gimli? So many men, I cannot see. Too tall ... too fair ... no beard ... how does one dwarf hide amongst these men? Have I missed him?

Aragorn -- what are you doing? I have but one arrow! Do not taunt them! I cannot protect you with one arrow. Ascend, you fool!

"All who can have now got safe within, Aragorn," he called. "Come back!" ¹

Heed me, my friend. I may have lost Gimli. I shall not lose you as well.

10/12/2004

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¹ Helm's Deep, The Two Towers (Ballantine Books, February 1977 paperback ed., pg. 181)

Spoons

Spoons! He dared leave us spoons? Bilbo disappears for a year and reappears after everyone thinks he's dead. He makes Frodo his heir, not us! Finally, after we wait sixty years, he vanishes again and leaves us spoons?

Why didn't he leave us this lovely candlestick? Frodo doesn't need it. He wouldn't miss it.

What about this little mirror? It's a Baggins' family heirloom! Frodo's a Brandybuck; he shouldn't have it. I'll save it for the family.

A nicely carved footbrush and comb! In they go. There's room for them as well.

"Lobelia?"

Frodo!

"Why is your umbrella oddly shaped?"

11/02/2004

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A/N:  Written for LJ Tolkien_weekly's "Seven Deadly Sins -- Greed" challenge.

For She Is Dear to Us

Orcs defiled our mother.  They stole her … shattered her … stained her.

For weeks, we searched.  We slaughtered those who captured her and returned her home -- filthy and fragmented.  Father, master of his art, mended the fractures and made her body whole again.

The stain, he could not cleanse.  We fault him not.  She faults him not, though he may fault himself.  None here have the skill to clean a stain that poisons so deeply, not even him.

Today, our mother sails West.  We beseech the Grace of those who dwell there to wash the stain from her!

Tomorrow, we avenge.

11/16/2004

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A/N:  Written for LJ Tolkien_weekly's "Seven Deadly Sins -- Wrath" challenge.

From Enmity to Friendship:  Part 1 - Mistakes

A plague on Dwarves and their stiff necks! 

I will say it again, though silently.  Because of him, I walk blindly through Lothlórien.  The law of the land forbids a dwarf to walk with open sight here.  Blindfolded, he must be.  Can he not understand this?  Vindictively, he demands me blindfolded, knowing I desire to see the magnificence of the Golden Wood. 

He rejoices that I cannot see Lothlórien.  He jealously deprives me her sight, denies me her beauty.  Yet, if he could see, what would he see? 

Nothing.  A Dwarf would not recognize beauty if it stood before him.

11/26/2004

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A/N:  Written for a four-part cycle posted on LiveJournal's Tolkien_weekly community.  Part 1 of the cycle is Mistakes.

From Enmity to Friendship: Part 2 - Confusion

Yet more fair is the living land of Lórien, and the Lady Galadriel is above all the jewels that lie beneath the earth!

The dwarf's speech haunts me. 

Can this be possible -- a dwarf who prizes the beauty of Lothlórien and her lady higher than the jewels his kind desires?  Had I not heard him speak, I should not think it conceivable.  Yet I can dispute neither the words nor that he spoke them. 

Two sunrises ago, I believed him incapable of recognizing beauty.  Tonight, I hear him revere the beauty of land and lady. 

Have I misjudged the dwarf?

12/02/2004

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A/N:  Written for a four-part cycle posted on LiveJournal's Tolkien_weekly community.  Part 2 of the cycle is Confusion.

From Enmity to Friendship: Part 3 - Searching

Shall we walk, Master Dwarf?

Each day, I ask.  Each day, he accepts.  Each day, we walk.

I seek glades, trees, streams, and insight into my companion.  Perhaps he seeks these too; however, sight of the Lady may be his true purpose. 

He talks while we walk.  Often he compares the beauty of Lothlórien to that of a cave's.  These comparisons are strange to me.  Yet behind them, I discern a high regard for beauty.  Although he prefers a cavern form, he appreciates beauty as I do.

Each day, we seek elvish beauty.  Each day, I find dwarvish beauty instead.

12/10/2004

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A/N:  Written for a four-part cycle posted on LiveJournal's Tolkien_weekly community.  Part 3 of the cycle is Searching.

From Enmity to Friendship: Part 4 - Enlightenment

Henceforward I will call nothing fair, unless it be her gift.

You weep as we sail and proclaim a vow you cannot keep. 

You will find beauty again for such is your nature.  Have I not journeyed with you throughout Lothlórien? Have I not heard you speak reverently of beauty discovered?  Do I not understand you now?

May I be there when you encounter again beauty!  If I am not, I will be content.  For I have already beheld much through your eyes.

I count you blessed because you know beauty, Gimli.  I count me blessed because I know you.

12/16/2004

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A/N:  Written for a four-part cycle posted on LiveJournal's Tolkien_weekly community.  Part 4 of the cycle is Enlightenment.

Tradition

One likeness in two bodies faced the archery targets.

Draw.  Aim.  Loose.

"Forty-four."

Draw.  Aim.  Loose.

"Forty-five."

Draw.  Loose.

"Forty-.  Hold.  You missed the center.  I win.  You erred intentionally," he accused.

"Do not be absurd, brother.  Have I ever given a contest to you?"

"Not that I recall."

Thus tradition is honored.  One brother wins this Begetting Day competition.  The other wins next year's.  Neither acknowledges anything more than accident.  Thus they have celebrated for centuries.

One likeness in two bodies faced each other.  Two voices spoke as one.

"May the Valar bless you on this special day, El."

01/07/2005

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A/N:  Written for Jay of Lasgalen's birthday.  Jay requested a drabble that mentioned the number 45 and was about either Thranduil, Legolas, Elladan, Elrohir or some combination of them.  Happy birthday, Jay!

Death of a Dream

Kheled-zâram. 

Long ago, Durin stood on its bank and peered into the lake's blue depths.  Despite the daylight, seven stars appeared atop the encircling mountains' reflection, seemingly like a crown.  Durin's kingship was proclaimed.  Mountains of a distant bank would hold the dwarves' greatest kingdom.

No dwarf can pass without seeing that hallowed lake.

Standing where his ancestor stood, Gimli sees Durin's Crown in Kheled-zâram's reflection.  He looks not at the distant bank though.  Gimli refuses to gaze there for he knows what the mountains hold.  They hold not the great Khazad-dûm.  They hold the corpses of family and friends.

1/19/2005

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A/N:  Written for the water challenge posted on LiveJournal's Tolkien_weekly community.

Renewed Shall Be Blade That Was Broken

Shards of Narsil, Sword of Elendil, lie in his hands.  Before him lies his task, forge anew the great sword. 

A great sword forged greater, he vows.

Red in the light of the sun, shall the blade shine. Cold bright in the light of the moon, shall it gleam. Hard and keen, will be its edge.

A device of the kings of old -- of the king to come -- he will engrave upon the blade.  Runes of protection and of power, he will trace last. 

The Sword of Elendil -- of Aragorn, son of Arathorn -- shall war again.

Oath sworn, he begins. 

1/27/2005

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A/N:  Written for the improvements challenge posted on LiveJournal's Tolkien_weekly community.