Drabbles by Grundy

Lockdown Instadrabbling, Round 1

Drabbles written for Lockdown Instadrabbling on the SWG Discord, March 2020.

Featuring Balan, Arafinwë, Celebrían, and Elwing.

Balan was always delighted to see the being they had begun to call Nóm – and suspicious of his own response. Oh, Nóm was beautiful to look on, as were the few other of his people they had seen. Elegant, serene, apparently kind, carelessly dispensing wisdom and other gifts. But instinct whispered to him if Balan looked too closely at the creature’s eyes – they were not the eyes of a predator, not exactly. But he would be a fool not to see the power behind them. His people have been incautious before, to their sorrow. This time he will be vigilant.

---

Arafinwë sighed. The latest rumored spat between his brothers had sent waves of gossip as far afield as Alqualondë, turning what should have been a peaceful summer into anything but. He was used to everyone looking at him trying to divine what his conduct might signal about relations between Nolo, Naro, and Atto. But he’d sought a respite from that here, and maybe time to see if Eärwen might think of him as more than just a friend… It was rather tempting to make what was meant to be only an afternoon sail up the coast into a longer voyage.

 ---

Celebrían frowned. She supposed when the dust settled, life would be good. The sun shone brighter already for Sauron being defeated and Ennor no longer under constant threat. The world would be more like that of her youth, fairer and free. It didn’t feel that way at the moment, though. Elrond might as well be as remote as Eärendil, and nigh as untouchable. She clung to the faint hope that the man she’d fallen in love with was still there, buried beneath grief and duty. She would gladly help him dig out from it if he would only let her.

 ---

Even the rock here was different, Elwing thought morosely. The stone of Sirion had been stolid and reassuring, shades of grey and brown and white, with only the occasional shot of brighter color. That was what she had been used to, all she had known from childhood on. The Lindar of Valinor used rock that was pale tan or slightly blue or true white and glistened in the sun. Yet this was where she would make her abode, at least until the waters that sundered them could carry her sons back to her. Surely it could not be very long.