Enderi 3018 by Independence1776
Fanwork Notes
This was written for SWG's final challenge of the year, Season's Greetings: create a fanwork in which one (or several) of the holidays of Middle-earth plays a role. I chose Enderi, which may or may not be a harvest festival as pretty much the only thing we know about it is that they were days more or less unique to the Elven calender, but they happen in the beginning of October.
My thanks to Grundy for helping with the dates.
- Fanwork Information
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Summary:
Maglor is tasked with a mission.
Major Characters: Elrond, Maglor
Major Relationships:
Artwork Type: No artwork type listed
Genre: Alternate Universe
Challenges: Season's Greetings
Rating: General
Warnings:
This fanwork belongs to the series
Chapters: 1 Word Count: 268 Posted on 9 December 2019 Updated on 9 December 2019 This fanwork is complete.
Enderi 3018
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In the early morning light shining through his window, Maglor stared down at the piles of… everything that littered his small attic room. Enderi had been joyous, a celebration of a bountiful harvest that would assuredly last Imladris and any visitors through the coming winter. He’d had no chance whatsoever to clean up his room during the celebration, hardly having, it seemed, time to sleep between his performances both solo and ensemble and the last-minute rehearsals for them, along with all the general merrymaking. Bilbo had insisted on cooking something from the Shire, which Maglor had willingly tried. Hobbit recipes were usually good and always filling.
A knock on the open door heralded Elrond’s arrival, one hand held behind his back. His son’s serious expression was enough that a joke about cleaning vanished from Maglor’s mind. “What’s wrong?”
“I received word from the Wandering Companies. Frodo is abroad in the wilderness-- without Mithrandir. The Nine are hunting him.”
Maglor inhaled. The joy of Enderi had been temporary; they’d all known this. But the Elves had assumed Mithrandir would be able to keep Frodo and his burden safe. “What do you need from me?”
Elrond took his hand from behind his back, holding out Maglor’s sword. “We don’t know if Frodo and his friends have left the Road or not or if they have, if they’ve become lost. Go north, Maglor.”
“You’re trusting me with this task?”
Elrond’s grim, gray eyes met Maglor’s. “Yes, we are. Go, Father, and go swiftly. I fear we do not have much time.”
Maglor took his sword and buckled it at his waist.
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