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The Hours, #5
Okay. Back to "The Hours." The Lobelia Sackville-Baggins vignette: disturbing. Granted. Wrote the next one this evening, Haldir-centric, very pleased with the imagery (flames/amber/ash). Other Tolkien fans will get it instantly, I think, though 'tis still an Appendix-referencing fic.
The gaze of the guard’s amber eyes roamed restlessly over the lands across Anduin. Even with Elvish sight, honed and undimmed despite his years, the view before Haldir was hazy and indistinct. Once already the Orcs from Dol Guldur had attacked, surprising the Elves of the Golden Wood in their monstrous numbers and ferocity. The power of Galadriel held fast, however, and not many Elves had been slain, but the focused brutality against the woods was horrible in its unexpected slaughter.
Eastern Lórien was now a sacrificial pyre. Once-thriving mallorns, centuries old and yet youthful in the stasis lovingly imposed on them by their mistress and caretaker, shimmered in shameful heat radiating from hundreds of pitch-smeared torches. Haldir wished that he could shut his eyes; that with a quick shake of his head and one long intake and outtake of breath he could simply will the vision before him away. Instead, the wind shifted, and for a quick instant, his heart seized in anticipation.
“Rain,” he whispered, hope tripping on his tongue even as it was whisked away by the heated pant of the consuming breeze.
His tireless eyelids closed, dark lashes resting on soot-dusted skin. He opened his mouth for a moment, nostrils slightly flaring. The wind shifted again, and his mouth chafed with the taste of ash, delicate and grating. He spat.
Haldir reached to his side to grasp for his waterskin, from which he drank greedily. He yearned to quench his thirst even as he wished that he could command Ulmo to wring rain from the clouds, to change the obscuring smoke caused by greedy flames to steam.
Instead, he resumed his vigilant, unmoving stance, his body taut and his sight flickering through swirls of distant burnished flame.
Lórien, eastern border
The gaze of the guard’s amber eyes roamed restlessly over the lands across Anduin. Even with Elvish sight, honed and undimmed despite his years, the view before Haldir was hazy and indistinct. Once already the Orcs from Dol Guldur had attacked, surprising the Elves of the Golden Wood in their monstrous numbers and ferocity. The power of Galadriel held fast, however, and not many Elves had been slain, but the focused brutality against the woods was horrible in its unexpected slaughter.
Eastern Lórien was now a sacrificial pyre. Once-thriving mallorns, centuries old and yet youthful in the stasis lovingly imposed on them by their mistress and caretaker, shimmered in shameful heat radiating from hundreds of pitch-smeared torches. Haldir wished that he could shut his eyes; that with a quick shake of his head and one long intake and outtake of breath he could simply will the vision before him away. Instead, the wind shifted, and for a quick instant, his heart seized in anticipation.
“Rain,” he whispered, hope tripping on his tongue even as it was whisked away by the heated pant of the consuming breeze.
His tireless eyelids closed, dark lashes resting on soot-dusted skin. He opened his mouth for a moment, nostrils slightly flaring. The wind shifted again, and his mouth chafed with the taste of ash, delicate and grating. He spat.
Haldir reached to his side to grasp for his waterskin, from which he drank greedily. He yearned to quench his thirst even as he wished that he could command Ulmo to wring rain from the clouds, to change the obscuring smoke caused by greedy flames to steam.
Instead, he resumed his vigilant, unmoving stance, his body taut and his sight flickering through swirls of distant burnished flame.
no subject
I know why I write, and I don't think it fits the stereotypical reasons - but what do I know? ;-) What I do know is that your paper was based on more than just your own opinion; therefore, I think it speaks well enough for itself.
BTW don't ever apologize for "lack of academic credentials" - life is a university in which the willing student can learn anything they care enough to pursue (and not expect to be spoon fed their education - a complaint I hear repeatedly from several college professors of my acquaintance). *okay - stepping down from the soapbox...
I really like this. Haldir is back where he belongs, defending the borders of Lothlórien (yes, I recall the lines from the Appendicies re: Dol Guldur and the several assaults on Lórien that occurred concurrently with the invasion of Rohan and the battles waged in Gondor).
Your line, "Eastern Lórien was now a sacrificial pyre" is full of foreshadowing, of the inevitable loss of M-e's enchanted Wood, no matter which direction the Ring War took. It makes one appreciate sadness of the elves, and the sacrifice they willingly made. I doubt any of them would have wished Galadriel had chosen other than as she did, faced with Frodo's "courtesy" (...gently revenged indeed).
no subject
YAY!! It gave me great joy to have his vibrant, beautiful, very alive self where he should be.
Your line, "Eastern Lórien was now a sacrificial pyre" is full of foreshadowing,
Thank you. I was going to have it be a pyre of something, then thought it was somehow more frightening without listing what all was being consumed, and now I know that was the right choice.
Over at HASA I've put in a short thing of Author's Notes to indicate the inspiration for a couple of these vignettes, like this one, which is from a line from the Appendices. But you, newly-crowned Resources Manager, would know that. ;) Congratulations, again!
no subject
I would add this bit of commentary though: sliiiiiiiiick!
I can't wait to put these all together and read them. I think they would make a really cool short film. I know that sounds off the wall, but it would be so awesome. The imagery is there.
...see? told you it wasn't laziness. :-)
no subject
*looks confusedly at the message* Huh??
I can't wait to put these all together and read them.
Me either! two more to go: one with Dwarves, then back to Denethor and Faramir.
I think they would make a really cool short film. I know that sounds off the wall, but it would be so awesome. The imagery is there.
Wow. From time to time I think about trying to arrange for actual photo shoots to illustrate some of my longer stories, but then realize that I don't have any people in mind for them, as odd as that might sound. I wrote all of "A House Divided" without really having 'faces' for the main characters. I guess that was intentional, hoping that the reader would do that on an individual basis. Hmmm.