Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 49 |
| The pen and the sword |
Not a birthday drabble, but I suppose it fits here well enough. A double drabble in honor of beta readers. Pretend that we know with certainty that Bilbo did compose the poem... |
| "Well, what about this?" Bilbo cleared his throat, then launched into his poem. His audience listened silently, face expressionless. "What do you think?" the hobbit asked when he had finished. Aragorn folded his hands in his lap and replied, "I think the form is at war with the content. Bilbo, why must it be an elvish meter?" With a sigh, Bilbo replied, "Well, I suppose I want it to stick, if you understand me, and elvish forms stick." "Ah, but not every verse that speaks to the heart speaks elvish," Aragorn chided, rising. "But now I must bid you farewell and good luck, for I'm to meet Arwen not ten minutes hence." With that, he strode off, whistling a familiar tune that had Bilbo frowning, trying to place it. And then he began to laugh as he put words to the melody: The Road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began. Now far ahead the Road has gone, And I must follow, if I can... Picking up his pen once more, he raised it to his brow, as it were a sword, in salute to absent Dúnedain, and bent again to work, his spirits restored. |
For all those who have held my hand through many a slashfic or policed grammar or prodded me to fix this or that in any fic—your help is much appreciated! |