"Do you miss the Ranger?"

"Why should I miss him?" he replies, eyebrow raised in question.

She looks up at him, then says, "for lack of solitude and independence?"

He frowns, unsure as to her purpose, yet willing to play her game for a while.

"No, I do not miss the loneliness, nor cold nights spent in pelting rain," he answers, drawing her close. Her intentions dawning on him, he smiles, "not even with today's council meeting in mind."

She turns to him and smiles at his boyish grin that, for a heartbeat, outshines the silver streaks in his hair.

I can see your strength wane fast while I watch you staring into that fiery ball, hands clenched about Andúril's hilt. No blows are exchanged but a battle is raging, and there is nothing I can do, save stand by your side, hold your banner aloft and trust your strength and wisdom, like I have done so many times before.

Then it is over, the flame is gone and all I can do is offer a shoulder in support. Yet I know you prevailed and will tell me in due time what you learnt, like you have always done.

The invitation he had not expected, Denethor's good spirits even less.

"Captain Thorongil," Denethor motioned for him to take a seat, then did the same and raised his goblet in salute. "To four years of faithful service!"

Thorongil returned the salute, then said, after some moments of contemplation. "Four years of faithful service are always honoured by a dinner with the Steward's son?"

"Shrewd as ever, Thorongil. Four years of service and appraised by all, yet none know who you truly are." An eyebrow rose in question.

Dragon-talk it will be then. Inclining his head, Thorongil accepted the challenge.

A/N: Ang requested anything involving the number 4, anything involving Denethor doing something unexpected. Anything involving a dragon, as that is my zodiac sign.

For an example of dragon-talk, see The Hobbit, Inside Information (p. 207 ff in my 1995 Harper Collin's edition).

fliewatuet
Posted: Jan 7 2005

"No, Gimli!" The King shakes his head.

"But Aragorn, just take another look!"

"Gimli!" He can barely hide his indignation. "I am more than grateful for your assistance in repairing the damage done to Minas Tirith during the siege." Aragorn takes a deep breath. "But there is no way I will even consider your scheme of moving the White City beneath the mountain!"

The Dwarf snickers, and Aragorn knows he has been had.

"Well, then you might want to take a look at my other plan ..."

Aragorn takes the offered parchment. "Was it your idea or that of the Elf?"

A/N: This brilliant piece of literature was one result of an Instant Drabbling session in honour of the 3rd anniversary of the HA yahoo group. The given words were scheme -- consider -- other -- mountain

The captain's face was pale even against the pure white of the linen sheets. Denethor regarded Thorongil's still form upon the bed for just a moment longer, then turned steel-grey eyes upon the company's healer who was about to leave the tent.

The healer turned, as if stopped by the intense gaze of the Steward's son.

"Will he live?" Gondor could ill afford to lose the captain.

A nod. "Aye, but it will take time until he is fully recovered." A pause. "What happened to him?"

"He volunteered to stage a diversion. None of us knew at what cost."

A/N: I became the victim of another InstaDrabble session. This time the words pure, bed, steel and diversion were given.

fliewatuet
Posted: 2005-04-18

The water in the fountain mirrored the darkening sky. The Guards of the Citadel stood motionless as ever, protecting the memory of days long gone. Though the King had returned, the White Tree stood barren, only the wind whistled through its branches.

A sudden noise they heard by the gate to the sixth circle, but they did not move. Then someone hastened towards them, their posture stiffened. 'twas the King himself who approached, though kingly he seemed not, clad in travelling garb, dishevelled, cloak wrapped about a bundle in his arms. Then the cloth fell back, revealing a white leaf.

A/N: This drabble was written during an instant drabble session on IM, initiated by juno_magic. The given words were tree, mirror and noise, and the theme was Guards of the Citadel.

And another note regarding the next chapter of 'Doomed to Live': I had hoped to post it this weekend, but my beta reader suggested some changes that I think would greatly improve the chapter. But that needs some work. Watch my LJ (link on my bio-page) for a preview around Wednesday. I hope Chapter 11 will be finished next Sunday or Monday.

fliewatuet
Posted: 2005-05-01

"Ai Elbereth, Estel!" the cooks voice echoed through Imladris' kitchen.

The boy tried to shrink further into his hiding place, a storage room, lined with shelves made of rough wood.

"Is there a problem?" Elrond asked.

"Just look!" the cook replied. "He ruined the icing on the cakes. And that with all the guests around." The cook heaved a sigh. "I love him dearly, but there are times ..."

"Where did he go?"

What passed between the cook and his father was lost to Estel, but a moment later a hand touched his shoulder. "Estel? We need to talk!" Elrond said.

A/N: More instant drabble silliness. My response to the words Elbereth, icing, rough, love and touch.

fliewatuet
Posted: 2005-05-01

"Captain! A moment, if you would?"

Thorongil stopped mid-stride, just outside the Steward's office, and turned to face Denethor warily. He was tired, sore and hungry and though the day was still young, he only wished to wash off the dirt of the road and sleep. As it seemed, the Steward's son had other tasks for him in mind.

"My son was most delighted to hear of your return and asked to see you at once."

Denethor's face was a mask, unreadable as always.

His decision made, Thorongil sketched a bow. "Lead the way. I would not keep him waiting."

A/N: This drabble was written in response to Rachel's request at the HASA birthday card forum. She asked for something with Thorongil and Boromir as a toddler.
Happy birthday!

fliewatuet
Posted: 2005-05-01

"We have no army in the North, no legion to muster at need," Aragorn said sternly.

Boromir was surprised that his needling remark had garnered such a vehement response.

"Annúminas lies abandoned, Fornost has fallen and most of our infrastructure of old is lost, yet we have not given up our fight against Sauron and his forces. And we never will!"

Aragorn rose to his feet in one swift movement and stood towering above Boromir. "Never again claim that none but Gondor's people stand against the Enemy!"

Not waiting for a reply, Aragorn turned and vanished into the greying dawn.

A/N: The result of an instant drabble session held in March. My response to the words muster, legion, infrastructure, and imagine (though I forgot imagine).

fliewatuet
Posted: 2006-11-04

Aragorn stood on the top of the highest summit of Emyn Uial. Below him the hill's south-eastern slope descended into the clear waters of Lake Evendim, scattered crags and boulders stood out dark against the foliage, and the westering sun cast the lake's far shore in a golden, glowing light. He looked at his wife and drew her closer until they stood fused to each other, revelling in the sight that lay before them.

"This place always had a sacred feel to it. But to see the beauty of fair Annúminas restored ..." Aragorn smiled at Arwen and kissed her.

A/N: More instant drabble session results from an instant drabble session in March. The words were fuse, crag, sacred, and feel.

fliewatuet
Posted: 2006-11-04

Aragorn drew his cloak tighter around him, but even the thick wool could not keep out the icy chill of the strong wind that swept down from the mountains. He scowled. The relentless rain of the previous two days had turned into sleet and the ground was covered in half-frozen mud.

"What are you thinking about?" Halbarad asked from the other side of their sorry excuse of a fire.

"What I think about?" Aragorn gave up the futile attempt to light his pipe."Well, I am thinking of grass and sunshine, of periwinkle and daisy. Why do you ask?"

A/N: My last result of the instant drabble session from March 26. The words in question: periwinkle, grass, daisy, and sun.

fliewatuet
Posted: 2006-11-04

Denethor fumed. His captain stood to attention, his face an unreadable mask, as always, though water dripped from his hair and clothes and evaporated in the hot sand at his feet.

"I thought my orders were clear, Captain! No man was to cross the Poros River. By no means!"

Denethor felt his ire rising the more he thought about the Captain's foolhardy action.

"I do not contrive my orders out of spite, Captain, but advert to the dangers of South Gondor!"

"Permission to speak, lord Denethor?"

Denethor granted permission, albeit grudgingly.

"I defied your orders to assert myself of rumours about the position of Haradric troops south of the river."

The captain stepped closer to Denethor's desk, unbidden, and jabbed a damp finger at the map that lay spread out upon it.

"The Haradrim are stationed here, here and here. If we cross the river over there under cover of darkness, we can come upon them from behind. They will be trapped."

Denethor stared dumbfoundedly at the map and the damp spots left behind by Thorongil's finger.

"And now, if you would excuse me, I'd like to get out of these wet clothes and cook myself a cup of tea."

A/N: This double drabble was one result of an Instant Drabbling session held October 22. The given words were adverts, contrive, cooking, and assertive

fliewatuet
posted: 2006-11-04

The Ring-bearer was beyond their reach, born away towards safety, towards Rivendell. The Nine, too, were gone, swept away by the raging Bruinen. Yet the terror they had unleashed was slow to subside. Aragorn wiped sweat off his brow with an unsteady hand. They were all shaken to the core and weary.

A warm hand upon his shoulder startled him out of his reverie.

"Dúnadan?" Glorfindel's keen eyes held concern.

"I am well." Aragorn found his voice at last. "We had best be on our way. Neither of us has a mind to spend another night out in the Wild."

A/N: A drabble written in response to Radbooks's 2005 birthday request: a drabble about Aragorn and Glorfindel.

fliewatuet
Posted: 2006-11-09

They climbed the stone stairs side by side, Elessar and Éomer, until they reached the Holy Mound where once the tomb of Elendil had stood. Even after all those years, a sense of awe still filled the place.

Upon the green and treeless summit they stopped and stood thus in silent reverence of the old allegiance they had come to honour and renew.

Éomer stepped forward, thrust his spear upright into the ground and, smiling at Aragorn, drew his sword an laid it upon the turf, hand still upon the hilt. Then he began to speak. "Hear now all peoples ..."

A/N: I know that I started writing this drabble for Radbooks who requested a drabble about Aragorn and Éomer for her birthday in 2005. But I fear I never managed to post it anywhere for her to read.

fliewatuet
Posted: 2006-11-09

"Will you not tell more of Moria? Of the dangers that we will face?"

Grey eyes turned towards him in the gloom as if to judge his intentions. But no answer came forth.

"Then keep your secrets! See where this will end!" Boromir hissed in sudden anger.

Something flickered in Aragorn's keen eyes. Pain?

"Forewarned we might prevail." Boromir would not relent.

Briefly, the other dropped his gaze, then resumed his scrutiny of the gloom through which they had come.

At last he spoke, voice almost too low to hear. "Later. That tale is not for the innocent to hear."

A/N: Written for the "Beta Reader Appreciation Day 2005" over at HASA. This is for my wonderful beta, Amanda, who always appreciates Boromir.

fliewatuet
Posted: 2006-11-09

Thorongil suppressed a yawn. The Captains' Council seemed endless this year, Denethor more imperious than ever. Or was it just him? The other captains followed Denethor's speech with earnest attention. But he found it increasingly difficult to focus on Denethor's explanations. That Denethor had all but oppressed his earlier suggestions had not helped his mood either. His thoughts were flighty this morning, his mind kept drifting North. A desire he had thought- even hoped - to be but volatile had become stronger these past weeks. He knew that his days in Gondor were coming to an end, at least for now.

*****

A/N: Has it really been a year since I last posted even a drabble? Anyway, I partook in another of Juno's Instant Drabble Sessions. The cues were flighty, volatile, oppressed, imperious, and earnest, curtesy of http://freerice.com/.

Posted: 2007-11-24

The midsummer sun shone overly bright through the barrack's open window. Thorongil was convinced that the birds outside were making even more of a racket than usual, in revelry of the Rohirric midsummer festivities that had culminated in a feast the other night. But the feast had soon turned into a carousal, kindled by an assortment of spirits and other beverages. Though Thorongil was quite adept in avoiding to become inebriated, his usual tactics had not worked with his fellow riders. With a groan, he pushed back his blanket, readying himself to find a remedy to help his throbbing head.

*****

A/N: Another result of Juno's Instant Drabble Session. The cues were carousal, assortment, kindling, conviction, and revelry.

Posted: 2007-11-24

Protection
A Drabble

“Hold still!“

Aragorn flinched under Halbarad's ministrations.

“'Tis a miracle that you still live!“ Halbard went on. “The arrow should have pierced that thing like butter,“ he groused while plucking a silver, dented five-rayed star from bruised and bloodied skin.

“Are you sure this thing is not made of mithril?“ Halbarad dabbed blood from the small cut caused by Aragorn's brooch and the larger gouge left by the diverted arrow.

“Halbarad!“

With a sigh Halbarad drew the other's clothing back into place.

“Keep that!” Halbarad pressed the brooch into Aragorn's hand. “I will sleep better knowing that you wear it.”

*****

Thorongil men called him in Gondor, the Eagle of the Star, for he was swift and keen-eyed, and wore a silver star upon his cloak … (LotR, Appendix A (iv) 'Gondor and the heirs of Anárion')

*****

A/N: After four years of hiatus, the incredible ladies JunoMagic and Aranel Took managed to drag my muses out of their hiding place with another round of InstaDrabbling sessions.

This drabble was inspired by the prompt: Talisman. A charm that protects you wherever you go.

Posted: 2012-01-17

Crossings
A Drabble

Water splashed. The horse underneath him whinnied in sudden panic, then reared. He slipped. Water, chill from the mountain heights, engulfed him, his weapons dragged him under. His horse was gone, hopefully safely back on the south-eastern bank, and he kicked, pushed and clawed against the current, against the chill, and against the weight of his gear. At long last his knees touched ground and with his last bit of strength, Boromir crawled onto the shore. As he collapsed, the white walls of Minas Tirith appeared before his mind's eye, and he was no longer sure he would ever return.

*****

A/N: The result of another InstantDrabble session. The drabble was inspired by the prompt: The River: A pathway between worlds.

Posted: 2012-02-07

Close Quarters
A Drabble

"What now?" Halbarad surreptisiously rubbed bruised knuckles.

"This episode will not improve our reputation in Bree-land," Aragorn replied icily. Halbard, for all his 80 years, felt like a chastised youth under Aragorn's steely gaze. Though, truth be told, Aragorn looked as bedraggled as Halbarad felt: His hair was dripping wet, his shirt torn and his right eye swollen almost shut. Yet his glare had not suffered. Not in the least.

"You know Bill Ferny," Halbarad sighed.

"I do! And he's not worth a night spent in the lock-up."

"At least it's dry."

"Still I would prefer to have the key!"

*****

A/N: More InstaDrabbling. Inspired by the prompt: The Key: Can open anything.

Posted: 2012-02-07