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Narya
06/15/18 08:15 pm
Thanks Spiced, you too :)
Spiced Wine
06/15/18 08:06 pm
Yes, it’s been very nice! Have a lovely weekend, Narya :)
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06/15/18 07:49 pm
Happy Friday, Team Tolkien :) I hope you're all enjoying blue skies and sunshine like we are in the North of England :)
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Happy Friday, everyone :)
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06/14/18 10:32 am
Aww, thank you, Narya :)
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06/12/18 11:55 pm
Brilliant update, Spiced :)
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06/10/18 11:57 am
The days they fly past!
Karlmir Stonewain
06/10/18 11:05 am
Friday? It's Sunday already and I'm making a start on a sequel to my most recent story.
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06/09/18 12:36 am
Hurray, Friday! :-D
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06/08/18 10:06 am
Happy Friday, everyone
Shout Archive


After They Spoke about the Fates of Elves and Men by Himring

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Story notes:

An alternative (double drabble) version of the end of my story "Words", which was posted to SWG for their latest challenge.

It has been adapted to stand on its own.

 

The longer story is here: http://www.silmarillionwritersguild.org/archive/home/viewstory.php?sid=3204.

It can also be found on AO3.

Chapter notes:

Andreth/Aegnor (unfulfilled)

 



They had talked so long in circles that almost anything seemed possible, even that they should meet again after the end of the world, as Finrod claimed to hope. No, assuredly, he did hope for just that, for he was devastatingly sincere, was he not?
She found she could not entirely forgive him, for his counsel to his brother and to herself-- for the way his wisdom still divided them in life, despite promising reunion after it--nor entirely hold onto her grudge. He was so insistent. However much of her bitterness leaked out, he still called her: my friend.
He left and silence settled back in about her. She returned to her tasks, picked up the slop bucket from the kitchen and emptied it out in the back yard. As she straightened, she found herself looking north, towards war and the endangered border.
She stood and, still holding the bucket close, almost involuntarily, she spoke: a word, a name. Aegnor.
Despite all that had passed, all that had been spoken, the word fell into the silence still full of meaning as before. She listened to the sound of it, and knew that to her it still meant: my love.

Chapter end notes:

The reason why I wrote the drabble version was that this passage had been inspired by the Tolkien Weekly prompt "terms of address: my love", but the rest of "Words" was never going to be a drabble sequence.

This is 2 x 100 words, according to Word.

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