Drabble meme

[serai]

Well, this is an interesting little exercise. Been seeing it around, (gacked it from danachan) and am letting a couple of lines cook in the ol' oven.

Here's my list, in case anybody's interested. *snort*

In case you haven't heard, the way it works is you pick one of my lines and use it as a first line in a drabble of your own. Because some of my first lines are quite long, and set too much of the story, I've cheated just a little and shortened them. If that's not ok, feel free to slap my wrist!





"Mmm...yes."

All his life, he'd been a gardener.

Pippin rounded on Gandalf with a furious look.

I've a word or two to say to you.

The elves say everything began with a song.

No one could make him laugh like Pippin.

He sat up in bed, his eyes straining into the darkness.

What I had not counted on was how much I would come to love him.

"And did he, Dad?"

I have always loved you.

Here I stand on the shore, the white gulls flying.

The sting of the slap didn't surprise him.

"He's dying, Sam."

This dream had enveloped him before, he realized.

"So tell me about him."

"Uhhn," I grunt as he shoves me against the wall.

It must be that I've died.

The nib of my pen scratches like a live thing.





And just for fun, here are some first lines from fics none of you have read, 'cause they pertain to another fandom. I'd love to see what any LOTR writers would do with them. ;) (ETA: D'oh! I just realized a couple of them are too modern, so I've modified 'em.)





The slowly growing light brings the room into focus.

She stood by the rail near the stairway, the crowds swirling around her.

Ah, his head was spinning, blackness threatening and seducing him.

“What is it?" I ask.

The bed is cool, the sheets crisp.

His muscles sing to the rhythm of the water.

The light from the doorway outlines his face and the curve of his shoulder.

It was the scent that haunted her.

Is it the earth, or is it the air?

He raised his glass, dark amber eyes reflecting the candle glow.

It happens in a darkened, narrow hallway.

He was my flower.

His hair shone in the lamplight, thick and soft on my fingers.

There’s a dark crimson stain on my fingers.

Shit, it’s hot.

Comments

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

Of course, I just rummaged your site to match all of these to their stories. ;)

Drabbles later, but certainly forthcoming.

[baranduin.livejournal.com]

His muscles sing to the rhythm of the water. He dips the Lorien paddle into Anduin. Easily, so easily.

And it pulls him. Everything is pulling him home now—river current, gray Elven boat, leaf-bladed paddle. He leans forward with it, bracing his feet against the boat’s smooth wood and setting his shoulders into his strokes now. Even the two hobbits who share his berth sense it and lean.

Left side of the boat now. Dip and pull. Right side. Dip and pull. Left ...

Until they rise tall and strong, hands held up in welcome, and Boromir is home.

[claudia603.livejournal.com]

I've a word or two to say to you.

You're careless, Mr. Frodo. There, I've gone and said it because it needed saying. You're careless because when you laugh, it sounds like the Elvish songs that Bilbo used to teach us, and you never see just how it squeezes my heart until I can't breathe. You're careless because when you come out into the garden to offer me tea, you rest your hand on my shoulder and you don't see how I shiver and how certain parts of me warm up and swell. You're careless because when you smile at me, your eyes dazzling, like a pure autumn sky, the very words get lost from my lips.

You're just careless, Mr. Frodo, and that's a fact, and I've a word or two to say about it.

I'll have a plateful of angst with a side serving of angst with an angst dressing.

[elwenlj.livejournal.com]

CRIMSON


There's a dark crimson stain on my fingers. He's bleeding. What did they do to him?

I don't care about the noisy goings on behind me. Leave 'em to Mr Strider. Nothin' I can do there. Frodo needs me more.

Oh. I'm going to be sick. It's so deep I think I can see bone. Don't you throw up now, Sam. You've got work to do.

Hanky. I had a clean one somewhere. There now. If I press hard it may stop bleeding. Ohhh. I know it hurts sir but I have to do it. Hold on, Mr Frodo. Please.

END

#1

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

You gave us two sets of lines, so here are two drabbles.

I have always loved you. My cousin, my companion, closer than a brother. When I decided to accompany Frodo I knew there was no leaving you behind. When the orcs took me I was terrified and relieved both that you were captured with me. When I disobeyed my liege and rode with my lady Eowyn it was all to come to you, to be reunited. I could never be without you.

Even so, Pippin Took, the next time you say "Bema's Balls!" and giggle as you duck away, I am going to sit on you and tan your hide.

#2

[rubynye.livejournal.com]

His hair shone in the lamplight, thick and soft on my fingers. Even so, I could easily trace the scar that parted the locks, that could have split his skull. He stirred in my arms as I ran my fingers along his brow, where another scar like a starburst lay half beneath his hairline, and down along the column of his neck. I thought on how I'll never know all the stories of these scars, though Mr. Frodo told me a few when he wasn't listening. I did know, and I do, that Sam is home now, home with me.

[blackbird-song.livejournal.com]

"He's dying, Sam."

Sam sat, slowly. “But he looks well to me.”

“He hides it, but every year it gets worse, and he's not feeling well, even when the spells don't have him.”

Sam swallowed around a lump in his throat. “When do you think he'll go?”

“I'm not sure, Sam. But I'll be going with him. I do love him so.”

Sam bit back tears. “I reckon I knew that, Pip.”

“You'll be making your own journey soon, Sam.”

“Aye, I will.” Sam smiled. In an eye's blink, Pippin thought he saw a faint light shining from within Sam.


Catherine

[melawen-c.livejournal.com]

Hi, hope you don't mind me joining the drabble fun :)
________________________________________________________________

"Uhhn," I grunt as he shoves me against the wall. His breath falls warm on my neck as he leans into me hard, telling me with his body what his glances have all day- I want you. I need you.
“Will you stay tonight?”
Oh, I’d do anything for him when his hands are on me like this, so eager and strong, and he knows it well enough by now.
“My Gaffer… you know I can’t… ohh!” His touch already has me breathless, begging.
“Well let’s not waste any time then.” He grins mischievously, but his eyes show his disappointment.

end.

[melanieathene.livejournal.com]

The elves say everything began with a song. Sky and mountain, sea and shore.

I remember little of my childhood... yet I clearly recall my mother's face, bent over my smallbed, eyes luminous as she sang me to sleep.

I remember Bilbo, his lilting voice spilling cheerfully from his study.

I remember my cousins, caroling as we rambled through the Shire.

I remember Sam, the music of his cries echoing the beating of my heart.

I remember the siren call of the Ring...

Now here, on this Blessed Isle, I look East... and I wait ... and I sing.

[mordelhin.livejournal.com]

Here I stand on the shore, the white gulls flying. My companion is already aboard the ship he has built to carry us on our final journey together. His step is as light and as ageless as ever it was; while my body, once as hale and solid as the mountains, begins to crumble. Tears blur my vision even more than age. Such grace has been bestowed upon this humble dwarf – to go into the West, and look upon the fair Galadriel one last time.

“Gimli,” he calls. “It is time.”

It will be good to see this journey’s end.