Eat, Drink and be Merry, Drabbles.
6 Feb 2009 10:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
curiouswombatI've been drabbling. I thought it would be good for me, and so I have been taking part in a series of challenges on ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-community.gif)
tolkien_weekly with the theme of 'Eat, drink and be merry.'
So under the cuts are drabbles for the following -
Never Again.
The centre of Caras Galadhon was decorated with glowing lights, garlands of flowers, and swathes of fabric; all the inhabitants of the great elven city were invited.
The food was wonderful; tiny savouries, cakes, fruits, and little rose-water flavoured sweetmeats from Near Harad. There was even ice-cream, made on ice brought down the river from the high mountains. A feast to celebrate Tindómiel’s Coming of Age.
Yet through it all ran a thread of sadness. This would be the last such occasion; Tindómiel had been the last elfling born in Lorien. No Coming of Age celebration would ever happen again.
Not a Drop to Drink
The water was dark, sluggish, he would rather go thirsty than drink it. Despite his thirst, or because of it, his thoughts roamed to other rivers, other water.
Sparkling, running, water; backdrop of sound to all memories of Imladris. Crystal jugs of soft, cool, water in Lorien. Water, gulped from a stream in Rohan, tasting of peat. Water, tepid, but welcome, washing away the taste of death at the Pellanor.
Water, dancing between trees, despite the Shadow. No! Shut out thoughts of home!
One day, he promised, he would return here, with other elves, and make it feel like home.
I've Got To Do What?
Hobbits keep goats. Men may keep cattle, but hobbits keep goats. However Merry had never tried to milk one – that was lasses’ work. Not that it could be that hard – put the bucket underneath, aim and squeeze. (Had there been a hobbit lass around she might have told him it was not that simple.)
Men may keep cattle, but men are taller than hobbits, stronger, with bigger hands. This is why hobbits keep goats.
No wonder, then, that Merry was aghast when someone told him that, as a knight of The Mark, he would be expected to milk a mare.
The Hardest Month
The youth sat, propped by pillows, in his bed. She had expected to bury him alongside his father and yet he lived; wounds healing, fever gone.
The woman placed a bowl of steaming broth, made with the last of the winter’s bacon, in front of the man at the table. It was hardly a fitting feast for one who had given her back her only son.
Then she remembered.
“Wine!” she said, lifting down a stone jar covered in dust.
Aware of the honour, but expecting little, Aragorn raised the cup, and a shaft of liquid summer warmed him through.
...........................
Disclaimer: The characters in these stories do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only, and all rights remain with the estate of JRR Tolkien.
I am a perfectionist in some things - all are a proper 100 words! Some of you may recognise the first one - it might remind you of Return of The Key...
In other news - we still haven't any snow :~(
I'd quite like some...
tolkien_weekly with the theme of 'Eat, drink and be merry.'So under the cuts are drabbles for the following -
Never Again.
The centre of Caras Galadhon was decorated with glowing lights, garlands of flowers, and swathes of fabric; all the inhabitants of the great elven city were invited.
The food was wonderful; tiny savouries, cakes, fruits, and little rose-water flavoured sweetmeats from Near Harad. There was even ice-cream, made on ice brought down the river from the high mountains. A feast to celebrate Tindómiel’s Coming of Age.
Yet through it all ran a thread of sadness. This would be the last such occasion; Tindómiel had been the last elfling born in Lorien. No Coming of Age celebration would ever happen again.
Not a Drop to Drink
The water was dark, sluggish, he would rather go thirsty than drink it. Despite his thirst, or because of it, his thoughts roamed to other rivers, other water.
Sparkling, running, water; backdrop of sound to all memories of Imladris. Crystal jugs of soft, cool, water in Lorien. Water, gulped from a stream in Rohan, tasting of peat. Water, tepid, but welcome, washing away the taste of death at the Pellanor.
Water, dancing between trees, despite the Shadow. No! Shut out thoughts of home!
One day, he promised, he would return here, with other elves, and make it feel like home.
I've Got To Do What?
Hobbits keep goats. Men may keep cattle, but hobbits keep goats. However Merry had never tried to milk one – that was lasses’ work. Not that it could be that hard – put the bucket underneath, aim and squeeze. (Had there been a hobbit lass around she might have told him it was not that simple.)
Men may keep cattle, but men are taller than hobbits, stronger, with bigger hands. This is why hobbits keep goats.
No wonder, then, that Merry was aghast when someone told him that, as a knight of The Mark, he would be expected to milk a mare.
The Hardest Month
The youth sat, propped by pillows, in his bed. She had expected to bury him alongside his father and yet he lived; wounds healing, fever gone.
The woman placed a bowl of steaming broth, made with the last of the winter’s bacon, in front of the man at the table. It was hardly a fitting feast for one who had given her back her only son.
Then she remembered.
“Wine!” she said, lifting down a stone jar covered in dust.
Aware of the honour, but expecting little, Aragorn raised the cup, and a shaft of liquid summer warmed him through.
...........................
Disclaimer: The characters in these stories do not belong to me, but are being used for amusement only, and all rights remain with the estate of JRR Tolkien.
I am a perfectionist in some things - all are a proper 100 words! Some of you may recognise the first one - it might remind you of Return of The Key...
In other news - we still haven't any snow :~(
I'd quite like some...
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no subject
Date: 07/02/2009 01:59 pm (UTC)Yes - it is Legolas in Ithilien as they go to confront Sauron at The Black Gate.
I am quite pleased with that last line too!