This was based on a dream I had about a very special girl that I hold dear to my heart. Ever since I have spoken Elvish, I gave her the name Gethír Tinúviel. Gethír means smile because she makes me smile and Tinúviel is taken from the Elvish beauty, Lúthien. Her voice is soft and it calms me, and her beauty competes with Lúthien herself. :) enjoy.
This is the first chapter of a series of stories telling the life of Amur Suladan, the Serpent Lord, who you may know as the Haradrim commander at the Battle of the Pelennor Fields. Not only was this a chance to flesh out the Haradrim in great detail using a combination of various past fan-fiction, my own work, and Tolkien's original concepts, but also show a very deep, conflicted 'evil' mannish champion, who has as much right to be called a hero as Aragorn or Beren. This has been a massive labour of love, and so I can only hope you enjoy it!
The last in this short story sees Kharid Drozhna finally make his decision between duty and religion as he undertakes the mission that will propel him to infamy.
In the penultimate tale of this short series, Drozhna is forced to choose between his duty and his religion.
CHAPTER ONE - Here begins Part One of the story of the struggles and daily hardships of life in the North-Kingdom during the early years of their wars against Angmar, as seen through the eyes of four separate protagonists.
This is just a short story that I wrote. It's very loosely based on Tolkien's world--very loosely. Mostly written out of boredom and randomness. But anyways, it's basically about a king of...um...somewhere and this is just a short tale that I wrote. Yet more proof of the "hairpin turns" in my mind.
I wrote this poem about four years ago while I was still attending school. To put it short and sweet, its a rhyming narrative of the entire Lord of the Rings story. I never really thought it was much good because I don't generally write poetry, though it did win me a few school poetry competitions.
The second part of the tale of the assassin Kharid Drozhna's rise to greatness sees him tasked with a mission that may further propel his ambition, and is confronted by a dark truth from his fellow Hasharin, Vashnir.
After writing 'Maiar' and 'The Nine' - two stories presenting both Sauron and the Nazgul in another dimension - I wanted to do two things with my next writing; to show evil from the perspective of men, and to present it as something forced upon by others with more power than an actual choice. And so I created this 4-part series about an order of Haradrim assassins, the Hasharii, originally invented by past fanfiction, which I hope I have expanded upon successfully to present in an original way. I hope you enjoy!
"But you, my darling Silvren." the words took her by surprise as she glanced fearfully up at Saruman, the one who had spoken them. "You are such a wonderful, sweet but poor maiden and do not belong here." he said as she shuddered at the chills that spiraled up her spine caused by his unusually sweet voice. "You deserve so much more than this. You shouldn,t have to worry about pleasing your father or living up to Legolas' expectations."
What ensues herein is the first of many installments to my interpretation of what life in the North-kingdom might have been like in the turbulent and strife-stricken years of fourteeth century, with emphasis placed upon the sister-realm of Cardolan in its final twilight years. In the Appendix B of RotK Tolkien himself states in the timelines that around c.1300 "evil things begin to multiply". So I thought that this time period would provide an interesting backdrop for my tale. I hope some of you will find it entertaining enough to endure its length. I begin with a bit of missing history (of my own invention, of course).
The Nine project was so lengthy that I found myself at the end with a lot of source information I never used, including a very long, ardous timeline and my own personal description of the Nine mortal rings, which I decided to post as not to waste it!
The final part of the last chapter. It's been over a year since this labour begun, so it's kind of sad and rewarding to finally get it done...but here it is, and as ever I hope you enjoy!
Because part two was apparently too long, I had the choice of either cutting out material or turning the last chapter into three parts - not wishing to effect the story I chose the latter. I have also posted this on a new account, having long forgotten the email of my last one (!) so with this 'new incarnation' I suppose you could call it, I'm promising a better brand of storytelling. Enjoy!
This is a poem I wrote about the Balrog in Moria. If you see any mistakes, please tell me. And I also have the Engwar (Elven Script) of this poem too. Sindarin with English translation. Enjoy? :D