My dear koshweasley asked for a drabble set at the Prancing Pony, and I [not unsurprisingly] found myself drawn to the Dwarvish element of this; just wanted to put it out since I don't doubt there's nowhere for me to find a place for this, Dwarvish-centric and short. But if you like my stuff, and might have a wee interest in the more hirsuite of JRRT's folks… this might work for you. No foul if you don't. I just resonate more to Dwarvish culture than Elvish, or more nearly, Rohirric.

Below from "At the Sign of the Prancing Pony," LotR: Fellowship of the Ring
"On the benches were various folk: men of Bree, a collection of local hobbits (sitting chattering together), a few more dwarves, and other vague figures difficult to make out away in the shadows and corners."

* * * * *

"Dark news, there is," Glavin said, puffing importantly on his pipe, fingers intertwined in his goldsmith's plait. "And these new Shire-hobbits will tell the true tale." His olive eyes lit up, the flecks in his pupil like metal newly smeltered.

Only his companion from the Lonely Mountain picked up on this, of course, a lesser-known silversmith, newly out of her apprenticeship. Behind her beard, she scowled. Men of Bree, rural hobbits; they knew nothing of their culture, of what her people prepared for, diligent and secret. Crows had informed them in the past; they'd told a new tale:

TO ARMS.

I hope I'm one of the first- it's 12:11 a.m. eastern time. I present you with-
birthday fic.

This is my first ever HP/Tolkien crossover, finally finished a year after euclase said she'd like a story with Lucius Malfoy, purple leather pants, a dragon, and some lyrics from an Ultravox song of my choice in it. Here it is. This is parody, and hopefully funny. Not only that, but the Tolkien aspects are canon for the time period in Second Age Middle Earth.

Warnings: camp, rampant purple prose, blatant stereotypes, Dwarf abandonment, overenthusiastic use of all caps and obscure words from A Word A Day, and probably much, much more. Rated PG for language. The accompanying icon is also part of the gift, now that I'm learning Photoshop and have a gift of more icons than I can fathom.

Happy Birthday, my dear, talented, gorgeous, brilliant licia.

( Of Dwarves and Stewed Lucius )

My gratitude to cim_halfling for her thorough and very fast beta. Yes, I've finished another of the Ardaverse stories I started last year, got about 2/3 the way through, and got stuck. Well, I discovered R/S is what happened. ;)

Summary: Denethor at age 13. What could have happened to the far-seeing son of Steward Ecthelion over two impressionable days in the summer of T.A. 2943.

( A Taste of Diplomacy )

For my Tolkien-based readership (or anybody else, for that matter), I hope you enjoyed! :)

Yup. Thanks to llembas's very fast and thorough beta, I finally have another Ardaverse story to share. I began it in December of 2003, I got stuck, and then revisited it in the spring of 2004 and gave it a major overhaul (but no ending) and finally finished it over the weekend. For only being 6 pages, it's taken quite a while. At any rate, 'tis here behind the cut!

( Fathers and Sons )

Okay, have revised satisfactorily (I believe!) the end of Speak, Friend, and Enter. So here y'go. Oh, and happy St. Patrick's Day to you all. Celebratory virtual Guinnesses on the house!!

Here's the summary: A tale of Dwarves and Elves, of artisans, the creation of the great West-Gate at Khazad-dum, and unlikely authors. Both post-WR and Second Age; Legolas and Gimli, and Narvi and Celebrimbor. Written for the "Authors of Middle- Earth" challenge. Humor, but with a serious nod to Elvish/Dwarvish relations during their heyday as well as musings on Dwarvish culture in general.

the author's notes will be posted separately; apparently the story is too long for one lj-cut.


( Speak, Friend, and Enter )