The Barrow-Downs Discussion Forum - View Single Post - THE LONELY STAR (Contd. from BD birthday party)

mark12_30 · 08-16-2002, 07:25 AM

Azra made sure that Ancalimon's pony got at least one daily visit from Lindo. Sometimes it was early in the morning, and sometimes it was late at night; Lindo rarely got away during broad daylight. Lindo's chief worry regarding the pony was that he had begun to whinny eagerly when he heard Lindo approaching. The pony knew that Lindo would take care of all those itchy spots that the boys could not reach, along his crest and back. Since Lindo didn't want him to become orc-lunch, it became a serious game for him to see how close he could get to the pony before he would be heard. With his natural hobbit-quietness, he could get quite close.

But early one grey morning, he got too close and startled the pony. He was very lucky; he was just far enough away that the explosive power of the pony's eye-level kick was all but spent, and instead of sudden death or a concussion, all he got was a splendid shiner. The pony snuffled Lindo apologetically as he sat in the snow carefully holding a snowball to his face.

Lindo was busy with names. He recalled Ancalimon's visit, and how that had been, for so many, the birthday of hope, despite the utter horror and wretchedness of the day's beginning. He felt that Ancalimon had brought the hope, but he gave the pony some credit too. "Estel, " he smiled lopsidedly, and the pony had a name.

Ancalimon: he who is most bright. So, what made Ancalimon bright? Nitir had said something about the household of Nienna. Wasn't she the one who wept all the time? Isn't that a grey sort of thing? But then again, it had only been weeping for his parents, Pongo and Lily, and finally Niphredil, that had set him free to hope. So somehow the greyness of weeping and the brightness of hope were related. In nature it made sense; you needed the rain, in order for the sunshine to do the land any good. Nienna, rainy weeping; Ancalimon, bright hope. There was a song in there, somehow. He'd work on it.

The pony, Estel, snuffled more insistently, and Lindo struggled to his feet and got busy, holding the snowball with one hand and scratching itchy spots with the other. He smiled lopsidedly again. Feeding babies, scratching ponies. Often, life consisted primarily of satisfying other's needs.

When he got back to the Workhouse, everyone wanted to know where the shiner had come from. But he kept it a secret from everybody but the Valiant Snowhobbits and their Assistants. They listened with wide eyes as he explained how lucky he was to be alive, and they all agreed to be smarter and careful-er than Lindo had been.

[ August 16, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ]

08-16-2002, 07:25 AM	#536
mark12_30 Stormdancer of Doom Join Date: Jan 2002 Location: Elvish singing is not a thing to miss, in June under the stars Posts: 4,349	Azra made sure that Ancalimon's pony got at least one daily visit from Lindo. Sometimes it was early in the morning, and sometimes it was late at night; Lindo rarely got away during broad daylight. Lindo's chief worry regarding the pony was that he had begun to whinny eagerly when he heard Lindo approaching. The pony knew that Lindo would take care of all those itchy spots that the boys could not reach, along his crest and back. Since Lindo didn't want him to become orc-lunch, it became a serious game for him to see how close he could get to the pony before he would be heard. With his natural hobbit-quietness, he could get quite close. But early one grey morning, he got too close and startled the pony. He was very lucky; he was just far enough away that the explosive power of the pony's eye-level kick was all but spent, and instead of sudden death or a concussion, all he got was a splendid shiner. The pony snuffled Lindo apologetically as he sat in the snow carefully holding a snowball to his face. Lindo was busy with names. He recalled Ancalimon's visit, and how that had been, for so many, the birthday of hope, despite the utter horror and wretchedness of the day's beginning. He felt that Ancalimon had brought the hope, but he gave the pony some credit too. "Estel, " he smiled lopsidedly, and the pony had a name. Ancalimon: he who is most bright. So, what made Ancalimon bright? Nitir had said something about the household of Nienna. Wasn't she the one who wept all the time? Isn't that a grey sort of thing? But then again, it had only been weeping for his parents, Pongo and Lily, and finally Niphredil, that had set him free to hope. So somehow the greyness of weeping and the brightness of hope were related. In nature it made sense; you needed the rain, in order for the sunshine to do the land any good. Nienna, rainy weeping; Ancalimon, bright hope. There was a song in there, somehow. He'd work on it. The pony, Estel, snuffled more insistently, and Lindo struggled to his feet and got busy, holding the snowball with one hand and scratching itchy spots with the other. He smiled lopsidedly again. Feeding babies, scratching ponies. Often, life consisted primarily of satisfying other's needs. When he got back to the Workhouse, everyone wanted to know where the shiner had come from. But he kept it a secret from everybody but the Valiant Snowhobbits and their Assistants. They listened with wide eyes as he explained how lucky he was to be alive, and they all agreed to be smarter and careful-er than Lindo had been. [ August 16, 2002: Message edited by: mark12_30 ] __________________ ...down to the water to see the elves dance and sing upon the midsummer's eve.