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Imhiriel's Drabbles
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Cold be Hand and Heart and Bone

Something disturbs the eternal rest of the last prince of Cardolan.

MEFAwards 2008: Honorable Mention – Races: Villains: Fixed-Length Ficlets


It was pitch-dark in the ancient barrow, its entrance barred by massive slabs of stone.

The blood reverently washed away from his spear-wound, the prince was laid out, in the company of his forefathers’ forefathers. His apparel was of befitting richness, packed by some servant even in hasty retreat from Angmar; in his hands a blue-jewelled brooch, loving token from his lady.

Out of the depths of the mound, a figure, barely visible in a sudden wan, eerie light, crept towards the bier.

A cold, harsh whisper chanted repugnant, bone-freezing incantations.

A groping hand touched the body...

The prince stirred.


- Title and inspiration from FotR, Fog on the Barrow-downs.
- “It is said that the mounds of Tyrn Gorthad [...] are very ancient, and that many were built in the days of the old world of the First Age by the forefathers of the Edain[...] Some say that the mound in which the Ring-bearer was imprisoned had been the grave of the last prince of Cardolan, who fell in the war of 1409. (RotK, Appendix A I (iii))

18.10.06 B-drabble for IgnobleBard, who requested a scary story with a frightening theme or unexpected twist.


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