lindahoyland: (Sky)
Title: The Distant Shore

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt:

http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=12195&picture=lapland



Summary: Aragorn embarks on his final journey.

Rating: PG

Beta: none

Author's Notes: WARNING– Character death
A revised version of a ficlet I wrote for last year's BTME posted to honour Aragorn's birth and death on this date.


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lindahoyland: (Eowyn)
When winter comes

Author: Linda Hoyland

Prompt: http://allpoetry.com/poem/8500011-I-Sit-And-Think-by-J-R-R-Tolkien

Summary: Éowyn is not enjoying her visit to Rivendell.

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

Beta: none

Author's Notes: Ficlet. I imagine elvish music to sound a little like Gregorian chant and the music of Rohan to sound rather like Cossack songs.

This is the final chapter, but I hope to post a story soon set soon after these events. It is not impossible that I might add more chapters in future if the Muse inspires me.

A revised version of a prompt I posted for BTME last March

Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate. No profit has been, nor will be made from this story.


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lindahoyland: (Thorongil)
Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt: Suns...plash! by Mirach

suns___plash__by_mirachravaia-d6izc1a

Summary: Aragorn loses his way in the desert.

Rating: PG13

Warnings: angst

Beta: (optional)

Author's Notes: (optional) I refer to other stories I have written in this story.though it can be read on its own.


http://lindahoyland.yolasite.com/the-gift-of-tongues.php
http://lindahoyland.yolasite.com/east-is-east.php

A revised version of a story I posted last March. Dedicated to [livejournal.com profile] lilybaggins for her birthday

"The Gift of Tongues" introduces Fardil

"East is East" explains the ritual markings.

With thanks to Raksha

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A/n Written for a BTME prompt last March and posted now to help readers escape the cold for a little while!
lindahoyland: (Aragorn and Arwen)
Title: Falling Leaves

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt: Autumn Forest
http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=26775&picture=autumn-forest

autumn-forest-1351265582Bf1

Summary: Arwen is in a melancholy mood

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

Beta: none

A revised version of a prompt I wrote for BTME in March.

Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate. No profit has been, nor will be made from this story.


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lindahoyland: (Aragorn and Faramir)
Title: Dew Drops
Author Name: Linda Hoyland
Prompt :Web



(http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=4467&picture=spiders-web)
Summary: During their trip to Rivendell, Aragorn and Faramir enjoy an early morning walk.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Brief mention of spiders
Beta: none
Author's Notes: Aragorn refers to an incident in “A Time to Reap”.
Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate. No profit has been, nor will be made from this story.


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lindahoyland: (Aragorn and Faramir)

Title: Treasure Trove

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt: For many people, summertime brings the chance to travel for pleasure. Take your character on a trip to a place he or she has always wanted to visit. Write or create art about what happens. Also inspired by an idea of Shirebound's.

Summary: Aragorn shows Faramir around the library at Rivendell

Rating: G

Warnings: none

Beta: none

Author's Notes: For Shirebound as a token of gratitude for all her support during the BTMEchallenge. This is the first in a series of short stories written for BTME 14 that take place when Aragorn, Faramir and their wives and children visit Rivendell, which I intend to publish as a single story. A revised version of a story I posted here last March


Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate. No profit has been, nor will be made from this story.


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lindahoyland: (Ranger)
Title: The Stuff of Life
Author Name: Linda Hoyland
Prompt: ""There the air was cool and there wayfarers in summer would rest and drink of the cold water." (Children of Húrin)
Summary: Aragorn and Halbarad search for water on a hot day.
Rating: PG
Warnings: none
Beta: none

The sun burned down mercilessly upon the two Rangers who trudged wearily along the dusty road.
Halbarad paused to take a swig from his water bottle. “It is almost empty,” he said with a deep sigh.

“So too is mine,” said Aragorn. “We had better go in search of fresh supplies. It means we will be late returning to camp, but no matter. We need water in this heat.”

“A detour will be more than worthwhile if we can get out of the sun,” said Halbarad. “I cannot recall it so hot in June before. I hope this is not some devilish new trick of the Enemy!”

“I think not,” said Aragorn. “Any extremes of weather that we experience, the Elves have encountered countless times before and worse! In any case, Orcs flee from the sun while some decent folk actually enjoy heat waves, though why, I have no idea! Only blizzards do I like less than the heat!”

The two men laughed ruefully, remembering the recent harsh winter when Aragorn had almost been buried in a snowdrift.

“We should get off the road,” said Aragorn. “There ought to be a spring somewhere in these woods.”

“A few more years as a Ranger and you will know the exact location of every water source for miles around,” said Halbarad. “Come, I will show you where the nearest stream is.”

“Presuming it hasn’t dried out in this heat!”

“It is fed by an underground stream,” said Halbarad. “It never dries up.” He plunged into the trees and set off like a hound following a trail.

The sweat poured down Aragorn’s face as he fought his way through the thicket in pursuit of his cousin. “Is there not a more accessible stream nearby that experienced Rangers like you are aware of?” asked Aragorn.

“Stop grousing, cousin, you will thank me in a few moments. This water is worth battling the undergrowth to reach,” said Halbarad.

The trees suddenly thinned out and the two men found themselves in a woodland glade. A stream trickled along mossy banks adorned with pink campions and golden buttercups.
The two Rangers hurried down to the stream and cupped their hands to drink from it.
“Is anything sweeter than pure fresh water? Nothing makes me more thankful than to quench my thirst with it.” Aragorn said a little later after drinking his fill and refilling his water bottle. He now lay sprawled across the bank, watching the birds flittering in the treetops surrounding them. A few sunbeams danced across the stream illuminating the wings of the darting dragonflies and making the water sparkle.

“When you are King you will have fine wines to drink every day,” said Halbarad. “You will forget to savour water.”

“Wine cannot quench your thirst on a hot day like water can,” said Aragorn. “Nor can wine look like diamonds sparkling in the sunlight. I wonder if even the Simarils appeared so fair?”

“You are master of Elven lore, not I,” Halbarad said matter of factly. “I would imagine, though, that to a thirsty man that no jewel could compare with water.”

Aragorn trailed his hand in the water, a thoughtful look upon his face. “Men and Elves have fought and killed over jewels,” he said. “Yet what is there in Arda more precious than water? It is the very stuff of life.”

A/n A revised version of a ficlet I wrote for BTME in March reposted in honour of my American friend's Thanksgiving Festival
lindahoyland: (Halbarad)
Title: Voices in the Mist

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt. Morning Landscape with Trees - Grubicy de Dragon

morning

morning

Summary: Halbarad and Aragorn have an adventure in the Old Forest.

Rating: PG

Warnings: very mild horror

Beta: none

Author's Notes: Short story with grateful thanks to Raksha for editorial help and Shirebound, Curious Wombat and Elanbarati for help with the plot. A revised version of a story written for B2ME14"


Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate. No profit has been, nor will be made from this story.


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lindahoyland: (Faramir2)
Title: A Meeting of Minds

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt: Love of Books

http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=65466&picture=love-of-books

Summary: Gandalf and Faramir discuss books.

Rating: G.

Warnings: none.

Beta: With grateful thanks to Raksha.

Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate. No profit has been, nor will be made from this story.


A revised version of a story I wrote this March for BTME.

Tree and Flower Awards, Faramir, Second Place
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Eternal Day

Apr. 1st, 2014 01:09 am
lindahoyland: (A/A)

Title: Eternal Day

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt:sunrise-21851287199913kZUc
http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=9724&picture=sunrise
 Also inspired by Rachel’s beautiful drawing, which I have long planned to illustrate

http://rs9.livejournal.com/13073.html

Summary: Arwen is reunited with Aragorn.

Rating: PG

Warnings: character death

Beta:

Author's Notes: Ficlet. A sequel to “The Distant Shore.”

http://lindahoyland.livejournal.com/540665.html?view=5820409#t5820409

Dedicated to Rachel

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lindahoyland: (Striderscruff)
Title: The Stuff of Life
Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt: ""There the air was cool and there wayfarers in summer would rest and drink of the cold water." (Children of Húrin)

Summary: Aragorn and Halbarad search for water on a hot day.

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

Beta: none

Author's Notes:.

The sun burned down mercilessly upon the two Rangers who trudged along the dusty road.

Halbarad paused to take a swig from his water bottle. “It is almost empty,” he said with a deep sigh.

“So is mine,” said Aragorn. “We had better go in search of fresh supplies. It means we will be late returning to camp, but we need water in this heat.”

“A detour will be more than worthwhile if we can get out of the sun,” said Halbarad. “I cannot recall it so hot in June. I hope this is not some devilish new trick of the Enemy!”

“I think not,” said Aragorn. “Any extremes of weather that we experience, the Elves have encountered before and worse! In any case, Orcs flee from the sun while some decent folk actually enjoy heat waves, though why, I have no idea! Only blizzards do I like less than the heat!”

The two men laughed ruefully, remembering the recent harsh winter when Aragorn had almost been buried in a snowdrift.

“We should get off the road,” said Aragorn. “There ought to be a spring somewhere in these woods.”

“A few more years as a Ranger and you will know the exact location of every water source for miles around,” said Halbarad. “Come, I will show you where the nearest stream is.”

“Presuming it hasn’t dried out in this heat!”

“It is fed by an underground stream,” said Halbarad. “It never dries up.” He plunged into the trees and set off like a hound following a trail.

The sweat poured down Aragorn’s face as he fought his way through the thicket in pursuit of his cousin. “Is there not a more accessible stream nearby that experienced rangers like you are aware of?” asked Aragorn.

“Stop grousing, cousin, this water is worth battling the undergrowth to reach,” said Halbarad.

The trees suddenly thinned out and the two men found themselves in a woodland glade. A stream trickled along mossy banks adorned with pink campions and golden buttercups.

The two Rangers hurried down to the stream and cupped their hands to drink from it.

“Is anything sweeter than pure fresh water?” Aragorn mused a little later after drinking his fill and refilling his water bottle. He now lay sprawled across the bank, watching the birds flittering in the treetops surrounding them. A few sunbeams danced across the stream illuminating the wings of the darting dragonflies and making the water sparkle.

“When you are King you will have fine wines to drink every day,” said Halbarad.

“Wine cannot quench your thirst on a hot day like water can,” said Aragorn. “Nor can wine look like diamonds sparkling in the sunlight. I wonder if even the Simarils appeared so fair?”

“You are master of Elven lore, not I,” Halbarad said matter of factly. “I would imagine to a thirsty man that no jewel could compare with water.”

Aragorn trailed his hand in the water, a thoughtful look upon his face. “Men and Elves have fought and killed over jewels,” he said. “Yet what is there in Arda more precious than water? It is the very stuff of life.”

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lindahoyland: (Aragorn smile)
Title: Taking Root

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt: “Write or create art in which a character plants something. (What she or he plants can be literal or metaphorical!)”

Mortality, change, growth are key elements to define the different race in Middle-earth. Write a story or create art where these topics play a central role.

Summary: Aragorn plants the new White Tree.

Rating: G

Warnings: none

Beta: none

Author's Notes: 500 word FLF. For Shirebound on her birthday
A prequel to my story "The White Tree."

Aragorn carried the sapling as carefully as one might carry a new- born babe. In his heart, it indeed represented his future hopes of children, as well as the land he yearned to see blossom under his rule.

The guards in the Court of the Fountain at first looked aghast when he ordered them to uproot the withered tree and bear it to the Rath Dinen. Their grim expressions relaxed into smiles, though, when they beheld the new sapling.

They looked even more horrified, though, when he requested a spade be brought and he rolled up his sleeves and began to turn over the earth with it in preparation for planting the sapling. Nothing could spoil the joyous mood Aragorn was in that day. He grinned at them and said, “I engaged in far more arduous labours during my long years as a Ranger. Becoming King has not rendered me entirely helpless!”

A small crowd had gathered to see what was happening in the usually serene Court of the Fountain. Aragorn ignored them and concentrated on his labours. Although the old tree had withered and died many years ago, the soil had been as lovingly tended as if it were yet alive. It was rich and fertile. Any weeds that had dared to grow there had swiftly been uprooted. The precious sapling should thrive and flourish in such a spot. Aragorn thought. Maybe he should have asked Samwise Gamgee to help him plant it. Unlike the Hobbit, Aragorn was not renowned for his gardening skills. But no, this tree was the symbol of Elendil’s line- his line. It was fitting that his should be the hands that planted it here as had Isildur’s hands planted its forebear.

Aragorn knelt and placed the sapling tenderly in the ground then arranged the soil around the roots with his bare hands. Around him, the crowd murmured and gasped. He could hear Gandalf chuckling softly beside him

Once satisfied with his handiwork, Aragorn stood up and turned to address the crowd, “Behold your new White Tree!” he said. “Long it lay hidden in a secret Hallow. Now may it flourish and blossom in the sight of all!”

The crowd cheered.

Aragorn stepped back and turned around again to contemplate the freshly planted tree. It was wondrous fair to behold. The leaves sparkled like pure mithril, reflected in the droplets from the fountain.

For the first time that day, Aragorn felt a pang of regret for his impulsiveness. Maybe he should have asked the other members of the Fellowship to watch him plant the tree, not to mention his Steward. Instead, apart from Gandalf only a handful of guards and passers-by had seen what he hoped would be a turning point in Gondor’s history. No matter, though, he would be able to surprise them with the new sapling.

Aragorn continued to gaze at the tree. In his mind’s eye, he saw it covered with blossom, as if adorned to greet the coming of his bride.


Back to Middle-earth Month 2014 Participant
lindahoyland: (Arwen)
Title: Time waits for no Man
Author Name: Linda Hoyland
Prompt: Prompt: "In that time the air of Middle-earth became heavy with the breath of growth and mortality, and the changing and ageing of all things was hastened exceedingly; life teemed upon the soil and in the waters in the Second Spring of Arda, and the Eldar increased, and beneath the new Sun Beleriand grew green and fair." (The Silmarillion, "Of Men")
Mortality, change, growth are key elements to define the different race in Middle-earth. Write a story or create art where these topics play a central role.
Summary: Arwen visits an aged Faramir.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Mention of death
Beta: none
Author's Notes: Set a few weeks before Faramir's death at the age of 120.


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lindahoyland: (Faramir and Eowyn art)
Title: Vanquished Shadows

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt: "Then, as a sweet rain will pass down a wind of spring and the sun will shine out the clearer, his tears ceased, and his laughter welled up, and laughing he sprang from his bed." (Return of the King, "The Field of Cormallen") combined with Your character gets caught in a spring rainstorm. What happens next?

Summary: Faramir ponders the events of a momentous day.

Rating: PG

Warnings: None

Beta: none

Author's Notes: Written in honour of Defeat of Sauron Day. 500 FLF


Such a day it had been, unlike any other he had known. Faramir felt he wanted to laugh and cry both at the same time.

All his life, Faramir had dwelt beneath the Shadow. Now it was no more. He had seen such marvels today that he could hardly take it all in.

He had kissed the Lady Éowyn. For granted, a chaste kiss upon her brow, but nonetheless a kiss. She had not objected.

Then a great wind had blown, the sun had come out and the Shadow had departed.

If those were not marvels enough, a Great Eagle had come from the East and announced that the Black Gate was broken and henceforth the City would be blessed and her King was returning.

The wondrous day was now almost at an end. Faramir desired to quiet his racing thoughts before nightfall. He decided to take a stroll in the gardens of the Houses of Healing. He was still under the healers’ care and recovering from his wounds, but he did not feel yet like returning to his bed. He had half hoped that he might behold Éowyn again to bid her goodnight, but she was nowhere to be seen. Faramir was not downhearted. He knew now that there would be a tomorrow in which to woo her.

His thoughts turned to those who were not there to see this day. He blinked away the tears as he thought of Boromir. How his brother would have rejoiced in the defeat of the Dark Lord! Then his thoughts turned to his father. Faramir tried to imagine Denethor smiling as everyone around him had smiled today. It was not easy. Denethor would most surely have rejoiced at Sauron’s defeat, but would he have welcomed the return of the King? Faramir felt certain he would not.

His heart soared again when he thought of the man he had recognised as the heir of Elendil, even as Aragorn had saved his life leading him forth from the dark vale in which the Black Breath had imprisoned him. This man was the king of his dreams, wise, compassionate, and mighty. It would have been so easy for him to let the one man who could hinder his path to the throne, perish, but Aragorn had put forth all his strength in order to heal him. He would gladly surrender the White Rod to such a man.

Suddenly, Faramir felt moisture upon his face, this time not from weeping. He looked up and although the sun still shone, it was raining. As a child, Faramir had always thought there was something quite magical about rain and sun at the same time. It seemed a fitting end to this day. He laughed aloud with sheer joy and lifted up his face to better feel the raindrops against his skin. He would be soaked and the Dame Ioreth would scold, but he cared not at all.

Then Faramir looked towards the East and beheld a perfect rainbow.

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lindahoyland: (BTME14)

Title: All that Remains

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt: Tolkien's stories frequently feature cities, dynasties, or entire groups of people who rise and then fall in importance. Write or create art about a place or group that is no longer important.

Summary: Galadriel reflects on the passing of the ages.

Rating: PG

Beta: none

Author's Notes: 500 word FLF

Galadriel walked slowly past the Mallorns for the last time. The trees were fairer still in the Blessed Realm, but she would miss the kingdom that she and Celeborn had so lovingly created together.

She knew full well that she ought never to have left the Utmost West, but in her youth, her heart had yearned for adventure and glory. She could not regret her time here, though.

Now the One Ring was no more, Nenya’s power had faded. Galadriel felt weary of heart. Her great strength faded, together with the enchantment of her realm. The sea longing now tormented her night and day. It was time to sail. She yearned to hold Celebrian in her arms again, though she dreaded telling her that none of her children had accompanied her on the ship. Together with Elrond, she would have to tell her of Arwen’s choice and that Elladan and Elrohir had not yet decided.

Galadriel wished she could stay a little longer to see how her beloved granddaughter fared in the world of Men. She would have liked to have held one of the babes that would surely be born to her in her arms. She wondered if any of Arwen’s children would reassemble Celebrian with her glorious silver hair.

She was glad that Celeborn had agreed to remain in Middle-earth for a time for Arwen’s sake. Galadriel knew that Aragorn would be the most loving husband to her granddaughter, but Arwen needed some of her own kinsfolk nearby too. There were some things that only they could understand, that not even the most Elvish of Men could comprehend. She would miss him, but it would be worth a brief parting to learn of any children that might be born to Arwen.

Arwen had chosen a strange doom indeed. Sometimes, Galadriel wondered if she had been right to encourage Aragorn to woo her granddaughter, but in her heart, she knew it had to be. No other heart could have loved Arwen so, unless it were her own!

Galadriel sighed deeply. This was now a world of Men, not Elves. Once the glorious elvish kingdoms had filled Middle-earth. Now very little remained of them. Lothlórien would soon be deserted and forgotten. Only Thranduil’s Kingdom, Rivendell, and Legolas’ new colony in Ithilien yet remained. Galadriel could foresee a time when no Elves at all remained in Middle-earth. The glory of her people had diminished and was fast fading.

Throughout her long life, she knew it was ever thus, that kingdoms rose and fell. Her heart was still filled with sadness, though. Then she thought of Arwen, glowing with happiness on her wedding day and an old prophecy came into her mindNever shall that line fail, though the years may lengthen beyond count. She was filled with foresight. Her mind’s eye perceived Aragorn and Arwen’s descendants across years without count.

Yes, The Elves were fading but through Arwen, a trace of Elven magic would forever remain within the world of Men.




Back to Middle-earth Month 2014 Participant
lindahoyland: (Halbarad)
Title: The Blizzard

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt: A blizzard rages outside and makes travel impossible. Two or more characters are trapped indoors together until the storm passes.

Summary: Aragorn and Halbarad are caught in a blizzard.

Rating: PG

Beta: none

Author's Notes: Short story, should appeal to fellow angst h/c fans


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Back to Middle-earth Month 2014 Participant
lindahoyland: (black and white Aragorn)
Title: A Leader of Men

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt: "There came a time of winter, when night was dark and without moon; and the wide plain of Ard-galen stretched dim beneath the cold stars, from the hill-forts of the Noldor to the feet of Thangorodrim. The watch-fires burned low, and the guards were few; on the plain few were waking in the camps of the horsemen of Hithlum." (The Silmarillion, "Of the Ruin of Beleriand and the Fall of Fingolfin")

Write a story or create art from the point of view of the foot soldiers or horsemen who participated in any of the battles in Middle-earth.

Summary: A young soldier fears to march to Mordor

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

Beta: none

Author's Notes: OC-centric. One line is taken directly from Tolkien.


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lindahoyland: (Default)

Title: When winter comes

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt: http://allpoetry.com/poem/8500011-I-Sit-And-Think-by-J-R-R-Tolkien

Summary: Éowyn is not enjoying her visit to Rivendell.

Rating: PG

Warnings: none

Beta: (optional)

Author's Notes: Ficlet. I imagine elvish music to sound a little like Gregorian chant and the music of Rohan to sound rather like Cossack songs.

Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate. No profit has been, nor will be made from this story.

Éowyn returned from her morning ride in good spirits. The countryside around Rivendell was perfect riding country. She was enjoying the experience of riding horses trained by Elves. Not that any other steed could compare with her faithful Windfola, though, but these horses were undoubtedly special. Windfola was enjoying grazing in Rivendell’s lush pastures after their long journey here.

She was about to go to change for the noonday meal when an Elf stopped her. “I trust you are enjoying your stay here, Lady Éowyn,” he said.

“It is most pleasant,” Éowyn replied. “My family and I are enjoying the hospitality of the last Homely House.”

“We hope you will attend a music recital in the Hall of Fire this evening,” said the Elf.

“I will be pleased to come if my children do not need me,” said Éowyn. “My youngest is teething at present.”

“We shall look forward to your presence,” said the Elf before silently gliding away, or so it seemed to Éowyn.

The Princess of Ithilien groaned inwardly as she climbed a flight of stairs to her chamber. Truth to tell, apart from the riding, she was not greatly enjoying her visit to Aragorn’s childhood home. Accustomed as she was to Arwen’s silent way of moving around, it was nevertheless highly unnerving to be surrounded by strangers who seemed to appear out of nowhere. Then, she missed being occupied in the day-to-day management of her household and herds. There was little to do here when she was not out riding. Faramir was in his element and spent most of his time in the library, emerging only at mealtimes, or occasionally to join her out riding. The children were occupied playing out of doors, supervised by their capable nursemaids. Aragorn and Arwen spent most of their time with their kin, going for long walks or showing their children the haunts of their own childhood. Éowyn found herself feeling out of place and rather bored and lonely. She also felt melancholy, but could not understand why that should be so.

Faramir greeted her warmly. After enquiring if she had enjoyed her ride he said, “Erestor has just told me that there will be a musical recital tonight. Is that not delightful?”

“I think I will stay with the children,” said Éowyn. “It is strange for them here.”

“You cannot miss the chance to hear Elven music,” said Faramir. “We have excellent nursemaids who would send for us at once if the children need us.”

Éowyn supressed a sigh. She did not feel able to confide in Faramir that she found Elven music tedious in the extreme. He had told her that the musicians conjured up events of bygone days as if they were happening before the listener, but Éowyn had never had that experience. Maybe it was because she lacked Faramir’s elvish ancestry, or perhaps it was because she was not fluent in Quenya, in which they were usually sung. She only hoped that she could manage not to nod off during the evening. She had no desire to insult their kind hosts.

000

The first piece of music was even worse than Éowyn had feared. The harpist was undoubtedly talented, but the music seemed to go on forever, praising the different shades of green in the spring woodland. Éowyn concluded that you would need the immortal lifespan of an Elf to have the time to count innumerable shades of green, let alone sing about them. She struggled not to fidget as what felt like hours passed. She applauded politely when the music ended. If only elvish music were more like that of her homeland, hearty tunes concerned with everyday activities such as riding or feasting.

Much to her surprise, Aragorn then rose to his feet and took the harpist’s place. “Tonight I would like to remember an old friend who often graced this hall with his songs,” he said. “Bilbo Baggins wrote songs that any elvish minstrel would be proud to sing. Tonight I will sing one of his favourites and mine.”

Éowyn listened intently as Aragorn’s fine bass voice sang, “I sit beside the fire and think of how the world will be when winter comes without a spring that I shall ever see.”

Suddenly tears pricked her eyes and she understood the reason for her melancholy. This place was a poignant reminder that even for Elves, all things change and pass away. This was Rivendell’s autumn and it would not see a spring. Her life too, would reach its autumn sooner than the lives of her husband and the King and Queen.

Faramir glanced across at her. He reached out and took her hand. He gazed at her tenderly and she knew in that moment that he understood.

Maybe now that she understood, she could better enjoy the rest of her visit here. Éowyn realised that she was privileged to be one of the few in these latter days to enjoy the hospitality of the Last Homely House. She would try to cherish those memories.

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Dew Drops

Mar. 16th, 2014 05:47 am
lindahoyland: (Aragorn and Faramir)
Title: Dew Drops
Author Name: Linda Hoyland
Prompt :Web

1757-1256188019FTXq

(http://www.publicdomainpictures.net/view-image.php?image=4467&picture=spiders-web)
Summary: During their trip to Rivendell, Aragorn and Faramir enjoy an early morning walk.
Rating: PG
Warnings: Brief mention of spiders
Beta: (optional)
Author's Notes: Events take place the day after “Autumn Leaves”.
Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate. No profit has been, nor will be made from this story.


Aragorn was awakened by an early sunbeam streaming through the window. For a few moments, he lay there listening to the soothing sounds of the distant waterfall and birds singing outside the window.

It was too perfect an autumn morning to lie abed for long, though and Aragorn desired to make the most of this rare visit to his childhood home. He slid from the bed, taking care not to disturb his still peacefully sleeping wife. There was no sign of the children being awake yet. No doubt, they were tired out after spending the previous afternoon trying to catch the falling leaves.

Aragorn swiftly dressed and went outside into the gardens. They were not as he recalled them from his childhood, having fallen somewhat into neglect since Master Elrond’s departure. He found their current wild beauty more to his taste, though. He had too many childhood memories of being scolded for accidentally damaging some carefully tended flowerbed while playing with his ball.

His footsteps crunched the autumn leaves that strewed the paths. It was a perfect autumn morning with a clear blue sky and just a hint of frost in the clear air. The dew bedecked grass and bushes sparkled like diamonds in the morning sunlight.

Aragorn rounded a bend in the path and realised he was not alone. Faramir had also risen early and was standing contemplating a hawthorn bush intently. He spun round when he heard the leaves crunching beneath Aragorn’s feet.

“Good morning, my friend,” said Aragorn. “I see you are up with the sun too. I hope you slept well?”

“I fell asleep as soon as my head touched the pillow last night,” said Faramir. “I can still hardly believe that I am actually visiting Rivendell.”

“It gladdens my heart that I could bring you,” said Aragorn. “Gondor should fare well enough in your Uncle’s care for a few weeks.”

“I did not wish to waste a single moment of my visit here,” said Faramir. “I have left Éowyn and the children to sleep a little longer while I took a walk before breakfast.” He returned to his contemplation of the bush.

“What has caught your attention there?” Aragorn asked.

Faramir stood aside so Aragorn could see what he had been looking at. “I was admiring the spider’s web,” he said. “Is it not most fair? I love the way the dewdrops glisten upon it. Is it not wondrous that so small and ugly a creature as a spider can create such a marvel?”

Aragorn studied the web for a few moments before replying. “It is indeed. I envy you that you can see beauty in a spider’s web. I remember too well the hideous spiders’ webs I saw at Mirkwood when I delivered Gollum there, and the tales Frodo and Sam told me of Shelob’s lair. Then there was that monstrous spider we slew that stung you in Lossarnach.”

“I know full well of evil spiders,” said Faramir. “But I believe that when the Great Music was created, Eru intended spiders only for good purposes. It was Melkor, who corrupted them to his purpose. These humble common spiders do much good by catching flies, while their webs are surely as intricate as anything Vairë might weave in her tapestries. Gossamer silk adorned with dewdrops sparkling brighter than twinkling stars! ”

Aragorn smiled and clapped his friend affectionately on the shoulder. “You are always quite the poet, melon nîn. Only you could wax so lyrical about a spider’s web!”

“I shall show it to the children after breakfast,” said Faramir. “I hope the sun will not have melted the dew by then.”

“This talk of breakfast makes me hungry,” said Aragorn. “Unlike the spider, I have no desire to catch my own this morning.”

“I smelled bread baking when I passed the kitchens,” said Faramir. “And the chickens here lay especially tasty eggs.”

“Then let us go and break our fast,” said Aragorn. “Our ladies should be up and about by now.”

Side by side the two friends strolled back to the Last Homely House.

banner_linda_b2mem_2
lindahoyland: (Halbarad)
Title: Voices in the Mist

Author Name: Linda Hoyland

Prompt. Morning Landscape with Trees - Grubicy de Dragon

morning

Summary: Halbarad and Aragorn have an adventure in the Old forest.

Rating: PG

Warnings: very mild horror

Beta: (optional)

Author's Notes: Short story with grateful thanks to Shirebound, Curious Wombat and Elanbarati for help with the plot.

Disclaimer: The characters are the property of the Tolkien Estate. No profit has been, nor will be made from this story.

Read more... )


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