(no subject)
Title: Silent City
Fandom: The Silmarillion - Of Túrin Turambar
Characters: Túrin, Finduilas, Gwindor, Orodreth, Celegorm, Curufin, Finrod, Beren
Prompt: 24: sound the bugle now - play it just for me; as the seasons change - remember how I used to be
Word Count: 165
Rating: PG-13
Summary: As the city crumbles, Nargothrond remembers.
Author's Notes: *looks rather guiltily at large gap between updates*
Ahem - moving on, I liked the idea of writing from a city’s point of view, and charting Nargothrond’s long history. Apologies for the slight crossover into Of Beren and Luthien, but Nargothrond was involved in that too. There seems to be a fine line between drabble and longer drabble, and I’m not entirely sure what this one is. But I digress. As my first fic under the new fandom Of Turin Turambar, I’m proud of it.
For those of you whose memories need refreshing or don't know the actual tale Of Turin Turambar, Wikipedia has an abridged version here (although I strongly recommend reading the original), and there are snippets of it here with nifty pictures.
Lyric Table here
___________________________
The withered leaves of autumn and the sleet of winter mingled with the bones of the slain in Nargothrond, but the city remembered. The great halls were crumbling with the movements of the dragon and the slow passage of time, leaving dust to fall like snow on the floors, cracked and scorched. Seldom now did the wind find those halls, the air rancid with the stench of death and dragon. Only the river, flowing ever onward, remained unchanged.
Yet the city remembered.
Memories rose like pale smoke as a breath of air swept patterns in the dust. It found the streams and pools where Finduilas had once danced, the parapets where Gwindor had once kept his vigil, the halls where Orodreth held court. It remembered even Beren, and the plottings of Celegorm and Curufin, the rebellion in the fortress. It even remembered Finrod Felagund, hewer and creator.
All memories, lost in the destruction that followed the man whose fate was shadowed, like a blackened train.
Fandom: The Silmarillion - Of Túrin Turambar
Characters: Túrin, Finduilas, Gwindor, Orodreth, Celegorm, Curufin, Finrod, Beren
Prompt: 24: sound the bugle now - play it just for me; as the seasons change - remember how I used to be
Word Count: 165
Rating: PG-13
Summary: As the city crumbles, Nargothrond remembers.
Author's Notes: *looks rather guiltily at large gap between updates*
Ahem - moving on, I liked the idea of writing from a city’s point of view, and charting Nargothrond’s long history. Apologies for the slight crossover into Of Beren and Luthien, but Nargothrond was involved in that too. There seems to be a fine line between drabble and longer drabble, and I’m not entirely sure what this one is. But I digress. As my first fic under the new fandom Of Turin Turambar, I’m proud of it.
For those of you whose memories need refreshing or don't know the actual tale Of Turin Turambar, Wikipedia has an abridged version here (although I strongly recommend reading the original), and there are snippets of it here with nifty pictures.
Lyric Table here
___________________________
The withered leaves of autumn and the sleet of winter mingled with the bones of the slain in Nargothrond, but the city remembered. The great halls were crumbling with the movements of the dragon and the slow passage of time, leaving dust to fall like snow on the floors, cracked and scorched. Seldom now did the wind find those halls, the air rancid with the stench of death and dragon. Only the river, flowing ever onward, remained unchanged.
Yet the city remembered.
Memories rose like pale smoke as a breath of air swept patterns in the dust. It found the streams and pools where Finduilas had once danced, the parapets where Gwindor had once kept his vigil, the halls where Orodreth held court. It remembered even Beren, and the plottings of Celegorm and Curufin, the rebellion in the fortress. It even remembered Finrod Felagund, hewer and creator.
All memories, lost in the destruction that followed the man whose fate was shadowed, like a blackened train.