Unnumbered Tears (war, covered, out)

This was supposed to be the war to end all wars. I broke the leaguer of Gondolin to come to my brother’s aid. Yet to no avail.

We marched out of the hidden city to end Morgoth’s reign. Our assault was broken by those who were oath-sworn. On the forth day began the Battle of Unnumbered Tears: I watched my brother fall to the whips of fire. I watched as swarms of orcs covered his body, and I could not reach him.

Mortal treachery lost us the battle. Yet through the friendship and sacrifice of Hurin, my people were saved.

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Disclaimer: Tolkien’s world and all his characters belong to Tolkien Estates, New Line Cinema, etc. This is done for the purpose of enjoyment only and I receive no money for playing in such a wonderful sandbox.

Rampant Desire (flare, shrug, figment and portion)

Pippin looked at Aragorn hopefully, “have you finished with your portion of the stew?”

Aragorn carefully moved his bowl behind him and shrugged innocently, “stew, what stew? Are you sure it is not just a figment of your imagination?”

The rest of the fellowship watched in amusement as Merry carefully retrieved Aragorn’s bowl whilst Pippin kept him occupied.

Merry sat back down next to Pippin, saying, “Here Pip, would you like some of my meal?”

Aragorn lunged for his bowl and knocked it into the fire, which flared up and swallowed the food, amidst gales of laughter from the fellowship.

Feasting (cottage, puzzle, heart, pink)

Merry and Pippin sat in the Laughing Oliphaunt, admiring the feast that had just been laid before them as honoured guests of the realm.

“You do know that we will have to go through the whole business of persuading them to let us pay again,” said Merry.

“Never mind that, there’s plenty of time to waste puzzling over that later,” replied Pippin. “Look at this spread: a selection of meats, bread with steam still rising from it, delicious cottage cheese – be still my beating heart.”

“Lovely indeed, but I think this pink grapefruit from Harad, is my favourite,” mused Merry.

New Year With the Rohirrim (gathering, skirt, bitter, mother. Topics: alcohol and New Year)

Éowyn gathered her skirts around her knees and climbed onto the bench to sit next to Faramir, who was swaying slightly. She laughed as she took a mouthful of his drink, savouring the bitter taste. “You’re not used to matching drinks with the Rohirrim, are you my love. I am glad we decided to come here to celebrate New Year, even if you can’t hold your drink.”

Faramir grinned sloppily at her; then stood on the table, “Come,” he shouted, “let us toast those who are no longer with us. Mothers, fathers, brothers, friends!” The hall resounded with drunken cheers.

Morgoth’s Hammer (surrender, gleam, hammer, priorities)

“Do you yield?” Morgoth demanded.

“I will never surrender, foul spawn of the dark!” replied his enemy, the power of Valinor gleaming in his naked blade.

Morgoth raised his mighty black hammer above his head and rushed his opponent: throwing him to the ground.

Elboron sat up, rubbing his head, “You should get your priorities straight, fool! You can’t kill me yet; I have to stab you three times first. Then Fingolfin dies.

“That is no way to address your future king,” said Eldarion snootily. Then he giggled. Besides, you should have seen your face when you hit the ground!”