Stories of Arda - Lord of the Rings Fan-Fiction Archive


	About Us News Resources Login Become a member Help Search

Truce by meckinock	24 Review(s)
Larner	Reviewed Chapter: 4 on 4/6/2008
Of all the allies in this possible subterfuge of returning the ring to Thorongil, to involve this Turgon! How I hope it doesn't backfire on him! Although the advice to circumvent the imagined plan to supplant Denethor in his father's favor is excellent, and will give him to worthy sons. Alas that he was right as to the long-term effect of life within the city on his beloved Finduilas. Author Reply: I think Denethor's counting on Turgon having all his eggs in one basket. He won't risk his hard-won standing in the current scheme of things. Sadly, Denethor is right. He'll have to live with that.

phyloxena	Reviewed Chapter: 4 on 4/5/2008
Wow! Just... everything. Love the brown river and the half-hearted down. Love the truce against the healer (and the Second-age horse, too), love tactless but politic Ecthelion, Denethor with his wrong reasons and right decisions. Thorongil makes a looming presence just semi-propped with half a line to him. And fealty-swearing in the mud next to the river. And endearingly absent archivist -- Denethor must have cherished the proof that not every single person is so weighed down by their present plights as he himself. Something to fight for. BTW, don't know how intended it was, but rings are remarkably long-lived in Tolkienverse -- after surviving since before Beren's time this ring had zero chance to get thrown away. Dangerous evidence or not, Denethor cannot destroy an object with tradition this long attached. Just not what this eternity-obsessed Egyptized Numenorians do. Is Saerbellas a traditional healer name, or something? I recall some guy in Elrond's household with sorry bedside manners and same name. Author Reply: Hi, Phyloxena, Thanks so much for reviewing. It's really great knowing that you enjoyed the chapter. It's wonderful hearing that you found the same parts fun that I did. You're right about the ring, of course - no eternity-obsessed pseudo-Egyptian Numenorean worth his salt could ever throw something like that away LOL. I love how you put that. Is Saerbellas a traditional healer name, or something? I recall some guy in Elrond's household with sorry bedside manners and same name. Hee. I'm just recycling OCs :-)

perelleth	Reviewed Chapter: 4 on 4/4/2008
It is always worth the wait! I really like how you are treating the greyness in Denethor. He is so attached to and respectful of his own honour that he never loses sight of it as a valuable asset, so he will not endanger it, even for the most weighty reasons, such as depriving his foe from its precious tool. ANd then he is capable of depriving himself of the comfort of love for the right reason...until he finds a better reason than Finudilas' happiness, that is, giving Ecthelion a grandchild so he can win him back. I think that all these details clearly allow us to see how once was the bitter man that we get to see later in life. One capable of driving himself so ruthlessly would not expect less from ohters... and worst as the times grew darker... This said, I really enjoyed the joint charge against the healer, while the scene in the river just reminded me of my loocal airport taking off track certain mornings... And Turgon is a very very rounded character, I must say! Very enjoyable all in alll, just waiting for more! Author Reply: That's a really insightful and interesting way of looking at Denethor's relationship to his honor, Perelleth. And I'm glad you enjoyed them ganging up on poor Saerbellas and could relate to the backup on the runway. Thanks for reviewing!

The Karenator	Reviewed Chapter: 4 on 4/2/2008
“You could just come to Minas Tiercake,” Hanger-guy said. “You don’t have to stay way out here in the woods. With all those layers full of people, your Boss would be able to find Paris Hilton’s talent easier than he could you. Besides,” the kid added, “The Wrong Deal is going to be laid out like a rug on sale for a long time.” “I can’t,” the PI said. “Why not? I’m telling you, nobody will know you’re there.” “Let’s just say I’ve got it in writing,” Halbarad said. “Drop it.” The kid shrugged the bony hangers holding his cloak. “Have it your way. It don’t make no sense to me to sail all this way to Minas Tiercake, then not even go close enough to see the White Cupcakes….” Cold air seeped like Coke on carpet down Halbarad’s neck. “Yeah, it’s my business.” Luck, the PI discovered long ago, was a wacky dame with a sense of humor that rivaled Dr. Jekyll’s idea of a fun night out on the town. For kicks, she stuck him with the kid as his only spy, then got the kid a job on the same boat the Boss was on. It also helped the kid’s job prospects when a deckhand decided to take Halbarad up on his offer to let him keep his teeth. When the kid didn’t go on with his story, Halbarad nudged him. “Tell me what happened after you shoved off from Pelagir.” “The trip was as boring as the last episode of the X-Files,” the kid said. “Except for The Perfect Storm, but you already know about that.” Oh, yeah, Halbarad knew about the big blow. When the kid signed on the Boss’s ship, the PI had hopped a dingy with a load of cadets from the Citadel on their way to the big beer bust. When the weather started getting rough, the tiny ship was tossed. If not for the courage of the fearless crew, the Minnow would be lost. The Minnow would be lost. Only the PI’s dinner got permanently tossed. “Get to the part I don’t know about,” Halbarad said. The kid grinned like he’d just won the lightning round on Jeopardy. “I got more scoop than Baskin and Robbins. Jimmy Olsen is going to want my autograph.” “Terrific,” the PI said. “Give me a hint why.” A few snowflakes drifted in a wind colder than Lassie’s nose, but the kid didn’t seem to mind. He wiggled on the log he copped as a seat as if getting ready to deliver the Gettysburg Address. “Okay,” the kid said. “When we got to Harlot, The Thorn and The Family Guy--his name is really Tarragon--needed somebody to help them get The Wrong Deal up to the Sixth Layer, so I jumped on it like Roy Rogers on Trigger. But the leech guy they brought along from Pelagir pitched a fit bigger than when Russell Crowe slugged some yahoo in a bar fight. So Tarragon got a nag older than Joan Rivers for The Wrong Deal to ride, but the leech got more twisted over that than Anakin Skywalker. Ha!” the kid said. “The Thorn and Tarragon tricked that leech out easier than a ’48 Ford. So, The Thorn got a couple of guys in Gondor’s delivery uniforms to push people out of our way when we wheeled your buddy up all six of those layers. Man, the roads were more crowded than a free Kid Rock concert.” “Yeah, okay, what happened after that?” “So,” the kid said, “when we got The Wrong Deal up to the shoe repair place, this guy named Saddlebags….” “Wait!” the PI said. “The shoe repair place?” “Yeah,” the kid said. “Up on the Sixth Layer. That’s where Minas Tiercake keeps its house of heels.” The kid shook his head. “I don’t know why they’d take The Wrong Deal to a shoe shop, but maybe he’s got a tough hide.” Halbarad scrubbed his hands over his face. A flaming idiot, that’s what the kid was, a flaming idiot. The PI figured he was too for even listening, but times hadn’t been this desperate since Battlestar Galactica got canceled. “Go on.” “Like I was saying, this Saddlebags said The Wrong Deal was doing pretty good for a guy as broken up as Susan Lucci at the Daytime Emmys. The leech that came with us was still moaning that the shoe guy in Pelagir could have sewed The Wrong Deal up and fixed his broke leg better, but by then, The Thorn’s old man, the big guy, Etchasketch, had come.” “Who?” “You know,” the kid said, “the kingpin, the steward.” “Ecthelion.” “That’s what I said.” Leaning in closer to the PI, the kid lowered his voice as if there were people to hear out in the middle of a forest as deserted as Mitt Romney’s campaign. “I think Etchasketch is hiding something.” Halbarad’s heart did a double gainer off the high dive. “Like what?” The kid’s eyes shifted from side to side, then back to Halbarad. “He got to talking about what a good job The Wrong Deal did cleaning out the narcs, then let it slip that The Wrong Deal is his very own son.” A sharp pain stabbed the PI between his eyes. The kid brains were more scrambled than a Waffle House omelet. “Thorongil is not Ecthelion’s kid.” The kid leaned back and crossed his arms. “Oh, yeah? How do you know? You don’t know where old Etchasketch went scribbling in his younger days. He might have been out dropping his p’s and q’s all over the place.” The PI’s face burned hotter than SI’s swimsuit edition. “Forget it! This talk is as worthless as discussing where Lost went wrong in its second season.” The kid’s chin lifted. “Okay then. Your loss.” Halbarad grunted. “Get on with it.” The kid put up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. There’s more.” He paused to pick at a ragged nail. “After The Wrong Deal is all settled in, Etchasketch told The Thorn to come on; they need to have a ten.” “A ten?” “Yeah, you know, a ten. Take a ten minute meeting. A talk.” “Oh,” the PI muttered. “So, it’s not like I can just hang around there like Vanna White with no letters to turn, and I sure wasn’t invited to the ten, so I figured I’d just trail The Thorn to see what he was up to.” “They didn’t see you?” “Oh, no,” the kid said with his lips rounded into a trumpet. “Like I said, the place is packed tighter than Dolly Parton’s bra. I followed them all the way to the Big House and they didn’t turn around once. Not even while Etchasketch was greasing palms. You’d think the guy had to get elected or something.” “What’d you do when they went inside?” “Hung out,” the kid said. “And waited. I figured The Thorn would cruise on back out eventually and I was right. Not long after he’d gone in, he came back out and headed off down to this building where they keep, you know, like books and scrolls and stuff.” “A library? An archive?” “Yeah,” the kid said, “that’s it. A library. I been in one before. Back home. It was an accident, but man, it was worth it. There was this cute girl working there.” He swatted his knee as if the memory was more entertaining than a three-ring circus. “I went back every day for a week trying to get her to go to the boat races with me. She said it was a rule that the people working at the library couldn’t go out with their patsies.” Halbarad groaned. “Patrons.” “Them either,” the kid said. “But I could tell she was real sorry, that she liked me too. When I told her that if she ever quit working there to let me know so I could take her out, she said that would be when Mordor froze over. Poor Spot. That was her name. Spot. I reckon her family needed her to keep the job and she didn’t figure she’d ever get to quit.” The PI made a mental note to look up the librarian in Pelagir and tell her that if the idiot ever showed back up, he would personally take the kid out into the wild and leave him where he’d never find his way back. “Yeah,” the PI said. “What was The Thorn doing at the library?” “Well,” the kid said, “I couldn’t follow him in there because it wasn’t exactly like a hopping joint. I just hung around at a hot dog stand until he came out. And man, let me tell you, he charged outta there like a bull running at Papilloma.” “Pamplona.” “That’s what I said.” The kid’s eyes gleamed like the headlights of a brand new subcompact. “The Thorn shot off down the layers…canon-less…and he didn’t care. I had to run like Hillary’s campaign to catch up with him. He went straight down to the river, near where we parked our boat, right next to that big ship flying the flag with the white ducks on it.” “White ducks?” the PI said. “You mean, the white swan?” “That’s what I said. The boat from Dol Amway.” Halbarad rubbed the sting in his eyes. “Sure, go on.” “So anyway, I hid beside some of those little mini-storage houses where people put their stuff until they can cart it into the city. I could see him plain as day and hear too. He stood around a little while looking at that ring of your boss’s. You know, the one with the two green-eyed snakes curled around a corn dog.” Halbarad nodded. “For a minute, I thought he was going to toss it in the drink, but Tarragon showed up.” The kid shook his head. “That was the weirdest thing I ever seen. The Thorn made Tarragon get on his knee and swear to be felt-up by his steward and his lord if he had to come or stay or die or get a piece of war until the end of the world.” Halbarad’s brows crashed over his nose. “He had him swear his fealty?” “That’s what I said. Right there on the side of the river where anybody could have come along and seen them. But,” the kid said with a smile happier than Kathy Lee Gifford getting a job, “when The Thorn showed the ring to Tarragon he told him it meant the return of Don King. He’s pretty sure that The Wrong Deal is a spy or a scout for King. He said Areindeer had sent The Wrong Deal to put syrup on Minas Tiercake, to act all nice so they can claim Gondor for the next big fight. Tarragon asked if he was sure and The Thorn held out the ring and said it was an Avon ring and he was sure because The Wrong Deal looked like somebody from up North, somebody with good hair.” “What’s he going to do?” the PI asked. “About the ring?” “Tarragon wanted to throw it in the river or tell Etchasketch, but The Thorn said that just because The Wrong Deal was a sneaky liar didn’t mean he had to be one too. So he told Tarragon to tell anybody who asked that some of his scouts found it by the side of the road and since they didn’t come by ship, they’d be late getting there, and they could act like they brought the ring.” The kid made a disgusted noise in his throat. “Yeah, like that’s not lying.” “Then he’s going to give the ring back to Thorongil?” “Oh, yeah,” the kid said. “But he’s got another plan to beat The Wrong Deal at this game. He’s going to marry that girl with duel fenders. That must be a nickname. I ain’t never known any girl named Duel Fenders. Maybe she’s a little broad in the beam or something.” The PI scratched the stubble on his chin. “What’s getting married got to do with the ring?” “It ain’t the ring that’s important,” the kid said like the PI wasn’t keeping up. “It’s having a baby to sit on Etchasketch’s knee. That way, The Thorn’s got a lock on Etchasketch. Family’s what matters. The old man won’t let Don King come in and ruin the family business.” Halbarad worked his jaw while thinking through the kid’s story. “So, The Thorn thinks that giving the steward a grandchild will distract him from Thorongil, turn his favor back to The Thorn….” “Well,” the kid said, “that’s if The Wrong Deal doesn’t up and announce he’s Etchasketch’s son too.” “He’s not!” Halbarad yelled. “Don’t ever say that again!” “Okay, but Etchasketch said it, not me.” “Ecthelion!” the PI shouted. “That’s what I said.” Ray’s Dog Human reviewer: Terrific chapter. The Dog reminded me that he loved it and said so. Since I think he used up our word count, I’ll just agree, “That’s what he said.” Author Reply: Poor Halbarad! He needs a better spy! The poor PI must be ready to put his eye out with a pencil. This was a masterpiece, Karen. Echasketch! I'm still laughing. People have been wondering what's wrong with me all day. But then, that's probably normal...

Linda Hoyland	Reviewed Chapter: 4 on 4/2/2008
A wonderful chapter I loved the humour at the beginning then the angst.If only Denethor had not so resented Aragorn.That is one of Tolkien's great tragedies. Brilliantly told. Author Reply: Thanks for reviewing, Linda. It is a tragedy that Denethor and Aragorn couldn't have been friends, isn't it? They were so alike.

Redheredh	Reviewed Chapter: 4 on 4/1/2008
Good chapter!! Humour, Romance, Angst, and Skullduggery! Who could ask for more? Sorry, you gonna get more than you expected. The scene at the dock where our principles mess with poor Searbellas was pure, calculated comedy. Hilarious and sublime, done with excellent timing. And yes I do feel for poor Saddlebags! Wouldn’t you want someone as dedicated as he to look after you? g The archivist and the scene with him was a hoot, too. And poor Denethor! Argh, Meckinock, you’re breaking my heart here! You have conveyed his true motivation so very well, and some readers still don’t get it. Not patriotism nor even honor rides our anti-hero the hardest, only pure and simple love. He needs his father to love him - for the person his father has made him. Yet he feels robbed of that due. Just what the heck is wrong with Ecthelion anyway?! How could such a sharp man miss such blatant signs? Does he not realize his son’s jealousy is his own darn fault? Does he not realize what kind of example he is making as a father for Denethor to follow with his sons? He is in denial of his responsibility for this rivalry! Why, look what he said to his son! As if Denethor did not possess the same qualities! hmph! Where is Denethor’s resentment of a returning king actually coming from? He might had been able to form a friendship with Thorongil instead of rivalry. But no, that possibility was precluded. Not by his own actions, which have been very honorable...eh, overall...if not exactly affectionate. I blame his father - Bad!Echthelion - the one who is in denial of his own words and deeds. And then there is Findulas. Denethor truly loves and wants her. She wants him too, but is blinded by her feelings for that carefree fellow that courted her by the sea. In kind, he loves that happy maiden he got to know - too well to be the cause of her demise. Why oh why does no one take his foresight seriously?! They would Thorongil’s, no? Ecthelion uses a strong argument when he says that Denethor would be worse off if another man had her as wife. Worse for whom? is Denethor’s caring protest. He is refusing to be responsible for her misery, and rather sacrifice his happiness for hers. As much as he would like to gain his father’s approval, he will not do it! To heck with the political consequences! Which are grave and should persuade him. You have to admire his sentiment. Their tryst was both sweetly romantic and truly saddening. They both behaved foolishly despite, or maybe because of, reasonable decorum. Then, along comes Turgon! That mook was sent ‘talk’ to Denethor, I just know it! He got so smug when he thought he was going to report back that he got the recalcitrant bridegroom to do what the bosses wanted. Denethor knows he can trust his brother-in-law only as far as the guy can be bribed or coerced. It was a clueless Turgon that caught him in the midst of thinking up a strategy to deal with Thorongil and misunderstood the responses he got. Of course, the matter Denethor was contemplating had nothing to do with love! He was mulling over the fact that he had been a fool for underestimating his foe and needed to move against him. Which brings us to those last lines: I have been a fool. I have to marry Finduilas. For a grandchild? Oh no, he doesn’t. He can get a grandchild from any “lady of high breeding and higher ambitions”. To stave off a feud? The argument would not last long in the shadow of a common Enemy. Political reasons my a*. He has to marry the lady who is not like the others, the love he should not wed and bury under his burdens, the one he only wishes to see happy and free by the seaside, because if he doesn’t...his rival will. A king must have a suitable queen, and Finduilas - his beloved - is above all others. Denethor will not be robbed of her love as well. Ah, there is such irony in the story’s title. The truce is over with a vengeance! Oh boy, oh boy, oh boy :D* Author Reply: Gosh, Redheredh, I'm so flattered that you found the chapter interesting enough to merit such a thoughtful analysis. I'm so glad that you found the chapter interesting, I'll try to do it justice. First, I'm glad you enjoyed the comedic interlude. I did enjoy doing that, especially knowing deeper stuff was coming. I'm glad you liked that scene and the archivist bit. Denethor: Yeah, he loves her. Too much too marry her. I'm so glad that came through - you described it so beautifully. I imagined that's how happy they were together, in their courtship, however that came about. And that's where the irony comes in. Darn canon, he has to marry her. So blame me, not Denethor, for setting him up with a trick bag he can't get out of. The guilt of it will kill him, if that helps at all... Ecthelion: I think I'd use the Prodigal Son excuse with him. He does love Denethor and just assumes Denethor knows that. Guys' logic. Dad logic. Thorongil, on the other hand, is the stranger, the orphan, the outsider. I think Ecthelion doesn't imagine that his affection for Thorongil could ever threaten Denethor because he doesn't imagine that Denethor could ever doubt his love for him. Sigh. Guys. ...and, in the end, Denethor's dilemma and his not-so-perfect solution. Again, blame the evil author for putting him in an impossible situation. Gosh, I feel so guilty now! Anyhow, thanks so much for such a detailed and thoughtful review. You've given me a lot to think about - and answer for.

Raksha The Demon	Reviewed Chapter: 4 on 4/1/2008
Ooh, an excellent chapter in a marvelous story. I love the way you write the relationship between Ecthelion, Thorongil and Denethor, it seethes and writhes with tangled love and jealousy. And the bits with Thorongil and Denethor allying against the healer are great. I felt sorry for Finduilas, though. It's rather terrible that Denethor changes his mind and decides to marry her as a ploy to outdo Thorongil. I wonder if she ever finds out, that could have contributed to her decline, she obviously loves Denethor. Author Reply: Wow, thanks, Raksha. I love that characterization - "seething and writhing." That's great; I have to write that down! That little bit with T and D conspiring against the healer was irresistable. Especially in light of the way their relationship is headed. I feel sorry for Finduilas, too. I'd like to think that Denethor feels so guilty about this that he tries extra hard to make her happy.

grumpy	Reviewed Chapter: 4 on 3/31/2008
No, no, no, Denethor, this is not the reason you should be marrying Finduilas. Really men and their reasoning. I love reading your new chapter, so glad to see it. Poor Saerbellas (aka Saddlebags, a healers life is not a easy one. Patients who want to ride horses, sailing in beer barges, and donkey carts! Thorongil, that ragged upstart from the north, had better be making plans to quit the city, he has been found out, unmasked. How fast can he hobble with his broken leg??? Author Reply: Hey, Grumpy! No, no, no, Denethor, this is not the reason you should be marrying Finduilas. LOL. Yeah, the worst part is, he knows. Saerbellas is going to be SOOO glad to get back to Pelargir! He'll be boring his colleagues for months with his tale of torment at the hands of the Captains of Gondor. As for Thorongil, well, he's not going anywhere for the foreseeable future. He might even be sneakier than Denethor, who knows?

Dot	Reviewed Chapter: 4 on 3/31/2008
“You asked for a horse.” Denethor stared at the animal. “I meant a live one.” ROTFL!!! Oh God, that's hysterical. Great to see an update. I'll be back with a review tomorrow. Hopefully tomorrow anyway. What a fantastic chapter :-) Author Reply: LOL. You must have had a hard day at work if you think that's funny :-)

Nilmandra	Reviewed Chapter: 4 on 3/31/2008
I really enjoyed Saerbellas/Saddlebags and Ecthelion's remembrances of someone trying to take off his leg. And Thorongil's idiocy that he can ride. At least he didn't go a hundred miles. Denethor and Ecthelion are great. Their conversation, argument, is from one powerful man to another powerful man. Ecthelion didn't raise a yes man for a son. I like the twist that Denethor is going to marry Finduilias for all the wrong reasons. And more interesting is that he is right about her - he foresees her unhappiness. But now he has political reasons to do it too - love and the good match weren't' enough, but getting himself in the good graces of his father over his competitor for his father's affection - that is a good enough reason. I didn't think Denethor could throw away the ring. Like the sons he raised, he is too honest. Turgon on the other hand....well, as we said, a good politician. Author Reply: Now, what kind of nincompoop would let a guy with a broken leg ride a horse? I enjoyed writing the conversation between Ecthelion and Denethor. I like the way you characterized it. And I agree, Denethor has too much honor to throw the ring away. Tell a little white lie about it, maybe...

First Page | Previous Page | Next Page | Last Page

Return to Chapter List