Drabble Collection: Experimental Challenge by mairoff

Drabble - Experimental Challenge

1. Melkor x Fluithuin 

Her name will never make history. To many, she is a rumour. A legend. Even less know her by name. Fluithuin sits in the ruins of her ancient home and looks at the destruction. Earlier that year she had a son. Now his father is gone and his desecrated crown of iron rusts in the ashes. Her tears will never be noticed, around her are only ghosts of memories that historians depict as monsters. There is no place for her in the next world. Her Lord and son gone, she retreats in the shadows, where the mountains have their roots. 

2. Maglor x Daeron 

They say they are rivals. They say only one Bard can wear the crown, be the Maestro, be the Prodigy. Maglor thinks nothing of it, he cares naught for petty empty titles. Life is not a ballad, and the shores of Middle-Earth are weeping. Bandaged hands play no more but he sings and sings with another who plays for him. If they are rivals it’s in their loneliness, in the shared experience of losing a past. Maglor sings and Daeron plays. They say they are rivals but under the stars and basked in moonlight, their lips play a different song.

3. Mairon & Melian 

Theirs is a relationship no one speaks of. At the Beginning of things, she is made a daughter of Nature. At the Beginning of things, he is made Fire and a son of circumstances. Yavanna calls him son, Aulë does not really but it is enough. Until it is really not. Melian has left and he does as well and tries not to think much about it. The two of them are the most powerful Maiar in Middle Earth, both of them with their Lands, both of them Second in Command. Mairon pities her. Unknown to him, Melian pities him. 

4. Eönwë x Arien

He watches her and yearns. Under the bright indigo sky of Almaren he learns the notes of her musical laugh, the shade of her hair under Ormal, the warmth of her fires. He is made their chief and thrives for excellency. Their home is beautiful and sometimes he flies to the lake and watches her dance amongst the golden beds of flowers. He tells himself one day he will confess his love. When he would have done deeds of valour, enough to be worthy of her. One day, Eönwë tells himself. He comes to regret his cowardice, an age later.

5. Galadriel x Luthien

There are Princesses of Ancient Times. The Golden and Silver Light and the Half-Maia. Daughter born under the Blessed Light of the Trees. Daughter born under the safety of the Woods. Day and Night woven in their hair, power threaded in their voices. Artanis thinks her cousin is strange, not for her nature but for her choice. Artanis dreams of her own woodland to rule and order. Lúthien thinks of her mortal man. Sometimes. When she isn’t staring in Artanis’ eyes and weaving enchantment of her own with her hands and lips. But this, this is their own little secret.

6. Mairon x Arien

Fire on fire, golden bright flames dancing and singing together. One is Creation, the other is Sustenance. At the beginning they are friends, then more and then nothing. She is warm and dazzling, he is incandescent and restless. She loves him, from afar, from closer, they kiss and she yearns. He likes her but his heart is elsewhere and she watches as he slips from between her fingers and into the darkness of poisonous ambitions. Him is a wound on her heart that never closes up. Even when ages pass and all goodness fades from him, she still loves him.

7. Sons of Fëanor

In the later years their names would be carved in the legend of blood, fire and terror. In the later years they would be called villains, abhorred and tragic. In the later years, what was once seven would be one left alone to be forgotten. But for now, under the Treelight, they are seven whole hearts and souls, laughing and bantering, bonded together by ties as strong as the thread of the Þerindë. For now they are children, beloved and hopeful. For now there is no Oath, no death, no Doom. Only love that shines bright copper and warm gold.

8. Maedhros x Mairon

In every tale there is a hidden story happening on the sidelines. Of two characters whose interactions are camouflaged by the narrative, and of whom none know of. There are many rumours surrounding his imprisonment in Angamando. As many as there are about the Úmaia they call Þauron. He lets them. It is better this way. For the Maia he knows as Mairon has no line in his Valiant tale of rescue. None that others might know of. Small mercies are rare in Angamando, rarer still when you are Fëanor’s son. But they can happen even if forgotten from history.

9. Fëanor & Nolofinwë 

They are similar, in the end. Less in looks than in spirits. There is a roaring fire in his half brother’s Fëa, his, is a tamed one burning steadily. Fëanáro likes to craft, Nolofinwë likes to read and write. He uses his brother’s elegant script and thinks, here we are as family when I pen government decrees. Fëanáro is a whirlwind of genius and extravagant ideas but Nolofinwë has more to prove too. He wants to sit at a table with Arafinwë, Fëanáro and talk about their visions and dreams. He wants a family, his family. He wants and wants. 

10. Maiar of Ulmo

The sea is their Realm. It is Mother and it is Father both. Every drop of water, every creature, every grain of sand and rocky corals. It calls to them. Their Master sings from the depth and the wales answer in echo, it is their own Music. They swim and shift the tides and roll the waves and carve lands. The sea is their Realm and their home. It ebbs and flows and grows and shrinks but always it calls to them. In Her embrace they are free. In her embrace they are one. In her embrace they are family.

11. Aulë & Tevildo 

There is a cat in his workshop. It comes every morning and settles in a corner. Aulë feels its golden eyes on him during the day as he hammers and bends metal to his will. It says and does nothing but stares. There is a cat in his wife’s tree. Its dark fur catching on golden leaves. Black cats are bad luck he tells her one day but his wife smiles and shakes her head, oh no she replies, they bring good fortune. Aulë doubts this. The cat stares at him with golden molten eyes as if he knows him.