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I was just perusing my harddrive, and I found some little ficlets that I don't think I'd ever posted online before. So I'm posting them for your enjoyment. ;)
Summary: Pippin has an astronomy question for Frodo.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
How I wonder what you are
S.R. 1400
“Frodo, what’s that star’s name? You haven’t told me yet.”
“That star is what Hobbits call the Guiding Star, but what Elves call the Star of Earendil,” Frodo answered his young cousin.
“Why don’t the Elves just call it the Guiding Star like we do?” Pippin asked, his insatiable curiosity getting the better of him. He turned his eyes from the stars above to his elder cousin lying in the grass next to him.
“The Star of Earendil is beloved by the Elves, Pip,” Frodo said, his eyes still draw upward towards the sky and stars above.
“Why?”
Bowing to the inevitable, Frodo turned onto his side to face his younger cousin. Pippin wouldn’t give up his questioning until he had an answer that satisfied him. Trying to remember all that Bilbo had taught him of Elvish lore, Frodo began to speak.
“Earendil was only part Elf. He was also descended from Men. Not since the Elder Days has this happened. Now, Elves and Men rarely interact and only when absolutely needed.
“As it happens, Earendil lived during a war: The War of the Jewels. The Elves were fighting amongst themselves and with Morgoth, the evil Dark Lord, for these jewels, the silmarils. It was said that the silmarils contained the pure light of Valinor, which is the home of the Valar. Whoever saw the silmarils began to lust after them. Some Elves thought it was their birthright to hold these jewels. Others just wanted them, to prove that they were the strongest. Morgoth wanted them to be able to lord them over the Elves, to prove to them their weakness.”
Pippin was absolutely mesmerized. The only stories of war he had ever heard had been cousin Bilbo’s stories, nothing grand and large like this, involving Elves and Dark Lords and the Valar.
“It just so happened that a silmaril came to the house of Earendil. It was a heirloom of his wife’s house. The war was going bad, so Earendil, being a mariner, set sail to the West trying to find the land of the Valar. No mortal had ever seen those shores, but that didn’t stop him. The people of Middle-earth needed the help of the Valar to defeat Morgoth and to stop the fighting between the Elves.”
Frodo paused to take a breath. “What next? What happened next, Frodo?” Pippin asked, fairly bouncing in excitement.
Frodo smiled. He well remembered being at least as excited as Pippin when he had heard this story for the first time, not that many years earlier when he went to live with Bilbo. The older Hobbit had seemed delighted to have someone to share his tales with.
“I’m getting to it, Pip, but even I need to breathe every once in a while,” Frodo answered.
“I’m sorry,” Pippin mumbled.
“That’s quite all right,” Frodo told him. “Now, where was I? Oh yes, I remember. While Earendil was out at sea, his house was attacked and his people either killed or forced to flee. His two sons were captured by the attacking Elves. Elwing, his wife, fled to the edge of the Sea with the silmaril, but could not escape from those pursuing her. So she flung herself into the water.”
“Oh!” Pippin gasped softly.
“But she didn’t die. She was turned into a bird, with the silmaril bound to her breast. She flew with all speed, trying to find Earendil, her husband. And find him she did. They then turned to the West and sailed longer and farther, trying to find the land of the Valar. Finally, they reached that immortal land and stepped onto the shores that no mortal has since seen.
“Both Elwing and Earendil were given a choice, to be immortal like the Elves or to die like Men, because both of them had the blood of the two kindreds in them. Elwing chose to be accounted as an Elf, and so Earendil chose the same fate because he loved his wife and did not want to leave her.
“The Valar then decided that Earendil should have a task: he should sail the skies with the silmaril bound to his brow, as a star of hope for the people in Middle-earth, a sign that they would be coming to the aid of their long-sundered kin. So when Earendil rose unexpected, the people of Middle-earth named the star Gil-Estel, which means the Star of High Hope. Some recognized it for what it was. They knew that this new star was a silmaril. And they knew that the one flying with the silmaril could be no other than Earendil.”
Pippin was silent for a moment, his gaze turned back to the sky. “Why don’t Hobbits call it the Star of Earendil and not the Guiding Star?”
“Not many Hobbits know the story of Earendil or the significance of it,” Frodo answered sadly. “Most Hobbits are not interested in any history but that of their own family. Hobbits are simple people, Pippin. They don’t know or care that the land that we call the Shire used to be a land of Elves or that if Earendil hadn’t set sail to the West, the land might still be at war, or worse, the Dark Lord might rule the land.”
“But I know now, Frodo,” Pippin exclaimed, turning to his cousin, his face full of determination. “I won’t forget what happened. And if I ever meet an Elf, I’ll tell him that I know and that I’m grateful for what Earendil did.”
Frodo smiled proudly at the little sprout of a Hobbit at his side. “I’m sure the Elves will appreciate it, Pippin.”
End
Summary: The youngest daughter of Aragorn and Arwen laments her mother’s choice of a mortal life.
When you chose to live a mortal life and die as the Secondborn do, you condemned me also to that mortal fate. Did you not think of the repercussions of your choice? If you had chosen to be accounted as one of the Firstborn, I also would have received the choice of kindred to which I longed to belong. But as you chose love and death over unhappiness and immortality, I am not granted that choice.
I do not belong to the kindred of Men, not truly. My nature and temperament are that of those who are granted Ages unnumbered to live. In my heart always I feel the pull of the Sea, the call of the gull. Always I feel compelled to look West, to the Sea and to the Undying Lands beyond.
But I will never be granted my wish to sail and join my Elven kindred. Few mortals have been allowed to Sail, but I will not be one of them. The Ring-bearers were scarred beyond healing and allowed to sail so that they might find peace. I, however, am doomed to live and die in Middle-earth, never once seeing the Hither Shores in my lifetime. The Firstborn call mortal death a blessing, a gift. To me, death is a curse, the Doom of Men. It is inevitable, yet always unexpected.
Always you watch me, your agony at causing me unhappiness a tangible presence. Sometimes, all too rarely, I see in your eyes a longing for your own people and family, an uncertainty as to your choice. You are sundered from your kindred until the breaking of the world and the reunion of all of the Children of Illuvatar.
The world is changed. Few of the Firstborn remain east of the Sea on mortal shores. Soon none will remain and a great wisdom and light will be lost forever from the world. I dread that day more than I dread my own death. Once I am gone from this world and my part of the great song ended, there will be none left in Middle-earth who had been born of one of the Firstborn. And that will be tragic indeed.
And so I am fated to always be torn in two. I must live as a daughter of mortal kings while my soul yearns for the Hither Shores and my immortal kin.
End
Summary: Two F/E drabbles I originally wrote for darth_snuggles for Yule a few years ago.
When Eowyn was five summers old, the two princes of Gondor passed through Rohan while on a journey to the North. It was during the Yuletide and Eowyn was forced dressed in her finest white dress when all she really wanted to do was dress in Eomer’s old riding gear and join the princes on their travels. Prince Boromir patted her head and called her a pretty little girl when he saw her, but Prince Faramir said nothing. He only smiled at her and took her hand when she turned to lead him into the feast thrown in his honor.
***
When Eowyn was twenty-four summers old, the only remaining prince of the house of Anarion entered the lands of Rohan on the very important errand of bringing his bride back to the land of his birth. It was during the Yuletide and Eowyn dressed herself in her finest white gown, a belt of gold at her waist. Eomer kissed her cheek and called her beautiful when he saw her, but Prince Faramir said nothing. He only smiled at her as he was given her hand by the king and she led him into the feast thrown in their honor.
Summary: Pippin has an astronomy question for Frodo.
Twinkle, twinkle, little star
How I wonder what you are
S.R. 1400
“Frodo, what’s that star’s name? You haven’t told me yet.”
“That star is what Hobbits call the Guiding Star, but what Elves call the Star of Earendil,” Frodo answered his young cousin.
“Why don’t the Elves just call it the Guiding Star like we do?” Pippin asked, his insatiable curiosity getting the better of him. He turned his eyes from the stars above to his elder cousin lying in the grass next to him.
“The Star of Earendil is beloved by the Elves, Pip,” Frodo said, his eyes still draw upward towards the sky and stars above.
“Why?”
Bowing to the inevitable, Frodo turned onto his side to face his younger cousin. Pippin wouldn’t give up his questioning until he had an answer that satisfied him. Trying to remember all that Bilbo had taught him of Elvish lore, Frodo began to speak.
“Earendil was only part Elf. He was also descended from Men. Not since the Elder Days has this happened. Now, Elves and Men rarely interact and only when absolutely needed.
“As it happens, Earendil lived during a war: The War of the Jewels. The Elves were fighting amongst themselves and with Morgoth, the evil Dark Lord, for these jewels, the silmarils. It was said that the silmarils contained the pure light of Valinor, which is the home of the Valar. Whoever saw the silmarils began to lust after them. Some Elves thought it was their birthright to hold these jewels. Others just wanted them, to prove that they were the strongest. Morgoth wanted them to be able to lord them over the Elves, to prove to them their weakness.”
Pippin was absolutely mesmerized. The only stories of war he had ever heard had been cousin Bilbo’s stories, nothing grand and large like this, involving Elves and Dark Lords and the Valar.
“It just so happened that a silmaril came to the house of Earendil. It was a heirloom of his wife’s house. The war was going bad, so Earendil, being a mariner, set sail to the West trying to find the land of the Valar. No mortal had ever seen those shores, but that didn’t stop him. The people of Middle-earth needed the help of the Valar to defeat Morgoth and to stop the fighting between the Elves.”
Frodo paused to take a breath. “What next? What happened next, Frodo?” Pippin asked, fairly bouncing in excitement.
Frodo smiled. He well remembered being at least as excited as Pippin when he had heard this story for the first time, not that many years earlier when he went to live with Bilbo. The older Hobbit had seemed delighted to have someone to share his tales with.
“I’m getting to it, Pip, but even I need to breathe every once in a while,” Frodo answered.
“I’m sorry,” Pippin mumbled.
“That’s quite all right,” Frodo told him. “Now, where was I? Oh yes, I remember. While Earendil was out at sea, his house was attacked and his people either killed or forced to flee. His two sons were captured by the attacking Elves. Elwing, his wife, fled to the edge of the Sea with the silmaril, but could not escape from those pursuing her. So she flung herself into the water.”
“Oh!” Pippin gasped softly.
“But she didn’t die. She was turned into a bird, with the silmaril bound to her breast. She flew with all speed, trying to find Earendil, her husband. And find him she did. They then turned to the West and sailed longer and farther, trying to find the land of the Valar. Finally, they reached that immortal land and stepped onto the shores that no mortal has since seen.
“Both Elwing and Earendil were given a choice, to be immortal like the Elves or to die like Men, because both of them had the blood of the two kindreds in them. Elwing chose to be accounted as an Elf, and so Earendil chose the same fate because he loved his wife and did not want to leave her.
“The Valar then decided that Earendil should have a task: he should sail the skies with the silmaril bound to his brow, as a star of hope for the people in Middle-earth, a sign that they would be coming to the aid of their long-sundered kin. So when Earendil rose unexpected, the people of Middle-earth named the star Gil-Estel, which means the Star of High Hope. Some recognized it for what it was. They knew that this new star was a silmaril. And they knew that the one flying with the silmaril could be no other than Earendil.”
Pippin was silent for a moment, his gaze turned back to the sky. “Why don’t Hobbits call it the Star of Earendil and not the Guiding Star?”
“Not many Hobbits know the story of Earendil or the significance of it,” Frodo answered sadly. “Most Hobbits are not interested in any history but that of their own family. Hobbits are simple people, Pippin. They don’t know or care that the land that we call the Shire used to be a land of Elves or that if Earendil hadn’t set sail to the West, the land might still be at war, or worse, the Dark Lord might rule the land.”
“But I know now, Frodo,” Pippin exclaimed, turning to his cousin, his face full of determination. “I won’t forget what happened. And if I ever meet an Elf, I’ll tell him that I know and that I’m grateful for what Earendil did.”
Frodo smiled proudly at the little sprout of a Hobbit at his side. “I’m sure the Elves will appreciate it, Pippin.”
End
Summary: The youngest daughter of Aragorn and Arwen laments her mother’s choice of a mortal life.
When you chose to live a mortal life and die as the Secondborn do, you condemned me also to that mortal fate. Did you not think of the repercussions of your choice? If you had chosen to be accounted as one of the Firstborn, I also would have received the choice of kindred to which I longed to belong. But as you chose love and death over unhappiness and immortality, I am not granted that choice.
I do not belong to the kindred of Men, not truly. My nature and temperament are that of those who are granted Ages unnumbered to live. In my heart always I feel the pull of the Sea, the call of the gull. Always I feel compelled to look West, to the Sea and to the Undying Lands beyond.
But I will never be granted my wish to sail and join my Elven kindred. Few mortals have been allowed to Sail, but I will not be one of them. The Ring-bearers were scarred beyond healing and allowed to sail so that they might find peace. I, however, am doomed to live and die in Middle-earth, never once seeing the Hither Shores in my lifetime. The Firstborn call mortal death a blessing, a gift. To me, death is a curse, the Doom of Men. It is inevitable, yet always unexpected.
Always you watch me, your agony at causing me unhappiness a tangible presence. Sometimes, all too rarely, I see in your eyes a longing for your own people and family, an uncertainty as to your choice. You are sundered from your kindred until the breaking of the world and the reunion of all of the Children of Illuvatar.
The world is changed. Few of the Firstborn remain east of the Sea on mortal shores. Soon none will remain and a great wisdom and light will be lost forever from the world. I dread that day more than I dread my own death. Once I am gone from this world and my part of the great song ended, there will be none left in Middle-earth who had been born of one of the Firstborn. And that will be tragic indeed.
And so I am fated to always be torn in two. I must live as a daughter of mortal kings while my soul yearns for the Hither Shores and my immortal kin.
End
Summary: Two F/E drabbles I originally wrote for darth_snuggles for Yule a few years ago.
When Eowyn was five summers old, the two princes of Gondor passed through Rohan while on a journey to the North. It was during the Yuletide and Eowyn was forced dressed in her finest white dress when all she really wanted to do was dress in Eomer’s old riding gear and join the princes on their travels. Prince Boromir patted her head and called her a pretty little girl when he saw her, but Prince Faramir said nothing. He only smiled at her and took her hand when she turned to lead him into the feast thrown in his honor.
***
When Eowyn was twenty-four summers old, the only remaining prince of the house of Anarion entered the lands of Rohan on the very important errand of bringing his bride back to the land of his birth. It was during the Yuletide and Eowyn dressed herself in her finest white gown, a belt of gold at her waist. Eomer kissed her cheek and called her beautiful when he saw her, but Prince Faramir said nothing. He only smiled at her as he was given her hand by the king and she led him into the feast thrown in their honor.