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#1 |
La Belle Dame sans Merci
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*As Fea lay there, thinking and getting a hold of herself, she noticed all at once that the darkness was slowly giving way: a pale greenish light was growing round her. It did not at first show her what kind of a place she was in, for the light seemed to be coming out of herself, and from the computer before her, and had not yet reached the roof or wall. She looked into the monitor, and there in the cold glow she saw posting before her Thinlómien, Esty, JennyHallu, Glirdan, and Encaitare. They were on time, and their faces looked deathly relieved; and they were clad in white. About them lay many treasures, of gold maybe, and in that light they looked as mathoms do. On their heads were circlets, gold chains were about their waists and on their fingers were many rings. Swords lay by their sides, and shields were at their feet. Fea realized that across her neck lay one long naked sword.
Suddenly a song began: a cold murmur, rising and falling. The voice seemed far away and immeasurably dreary, sometimes high in the air and thin, sometimes like a low moan from the ground. Out of the formless stream of sad but horrible sounds, strings of words would now and again shape themselves: grim, hard, cold words, heartless and miserable. The night was railing against the morning of which it was bereaved, and the cold was cursing the warmth for which it hungered. Fea was chilled to the marrow. After a while the song became clearer, and with dread in her heart she perceived that it had changed. Before she could hear words, she spoke, unsure, and not a little bit frightened. "Barrow-Wight, please, if you could find it in your heart, forgive me." The blade was cold against her pale neck, and Fea could see in her mind's eye the stain that her own blood would make, a stark crimson against the silver of the sword, running warmly down her ivory throat to mingle with the soft threads of the blankets beneath her. A hesitation in the Wight's song spoke to her that he was listening, but she could not read his Wightness as she could others; unfathomable, worthy of respect, and, she must admit to herself, a bit terrifying. "Please," she continued, trying not to choke on her words. "I am sorry that I missed your birthday; work held me and I saw the significance of the day but was kept from mentioning it. Please, your Imperial Wightness, have it in your heart to remove the blade from my throat and stop chanting curses over me. Next year... next year I will not be tardy." *any resemblance to works previously written is purely coincidental
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peace
Last edited by Feanor of the Peredhil; 07-09-2006 at 10:40 AM. |
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#2 |
Spectre of Capitalism
Join Date: May 2001
Location: Battling evil bureaucrats at Zeta Aquilae
Posts: 987
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Thenamir reined in his mount and cast his eyes at the westering sun, wondering for a moment where in the wideness of Middle Earth this road might take him, so far from friends and familiarity. It had been a long and cold season, and there were many leagues yet to travel before his journey would bring him home again. He dismounted and made ready to camp for the night.
Some time later over a small fire over which roasted a freshly killed coney, he reviewed his log parchments, and made note of the date -- and of a date just past, almost without remembrance, for which he was ashamed. He raised his eyes to the west, where the last of the dusk was rapidly fading to moonless night, and raised his cup. "To you, BW, best of friends," he mumured quietly, "may your road ever rise to meet you, and may our paths cross again in a happier hour." He sat for a few more moments staring wistfully off into nothingness, then put away his parchments and prepared his simple meal. Morning would come sooner than he would like, and his journey would continue...but the fresh memory of his friend would make the journey lighter, and the return more merry. ----------- To you indeed, BW, a happy birthday and many happy returns of the day! Thenamir
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The object of life is not to be on the side of the majority, but to escape finding oneself in the ranks of the insane. ~~ Marcus Aurelius |
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#3 |
Hobbitus Emeritus
Join Date: Jan 2001
Location: South Farthing
Posts: 635
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Me birthday is on the 19th of July, whereupon I shall be Thirty-Thirteen!
Many happy birthdays to my old friends! (But don't come looking for presents from this old hobbit, though if you come to the South Farthing, I'll cook you a marvelous dinner!)
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Please read my fan fiction novel THE HOBBITS. Wanna hear me read Tolkien? Gilthalion's Grand Adventures! |
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#4 |
Odinic Wanderer
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Happy Birthday Glirdan!
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#5 |
Spirit of the Lonely Star
Join Date: Mar 2002
Posts: 5,133
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Gilthalion -
Best wishes. I've enjoyed your hobbit story so much. I wish that you had more time on your hands for writing.
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Multitasking women are never too busy to vote. |
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#6 | |
Energetic Essence
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Speaking of which... I'm suer some of you remember back when I wished you a happy birthday and asked you for a piece of cake and nobody shared any with me...do you think you could make a double cake for myself and Wilwa?? Hey hey?? ![]() By the way, for what I do for birthday that is related to LotR, I celebrate my birthday on the same day as Wilwa, just like Bilbo and Frodo. The only difference is that mine and Wilwa's true birthdays are on different days and that we're the same age!!! ![]() And finally, too quote dear old Bilbo: I don't know half of you half as I should like; and I like half of you half as well as you deserve. However, the second part is untrue. I love all of you!!! And to all those who shall wish me a birthday greeting, many thanks!!
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I'm going to buy you a kitty, I'm going to let you fall in love with the kitty, and one cold, winter night, I'm going to steal into your house and punch you in the face! Fenris Wolf
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#7 | |
Odinic Wanderer
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