kill me now, or delete the comment: here's my first ever written down to show somebody ficlet. Not X100 words, it takes discipline I don't possess. Osanwe conference, takes place late June after HP&OP/late June 3018 after attack in Osgiliath.
Faramir stretched and startled. On the other side of his table sat, haunched over a large tome, a young girl in dark robes. She didn't look a noble's daughter, nor a maidservant, and any girl had no business in this distant corner of Minas Tirith library. She could be dream, he thought. A vision. As a girl looked up, he saw a kindred spirit, a naive quest for knowledge. As if it ever helps, he thought bitterly. "I would that I had foresight of my ancestors", he whispered.
The girl looked calculatingly, just like Mithrandir before giving his partial answers. "Gondor will stand", she said, "and you will marry for love".
*****
Hermione stretched and startled. Her table suddenly extended beyond the window in some unfamiliar room, and that new half of it was scattered with scrolls and volumes stamped with stylized tree. She squinted at vaguely familiar rounded runes. Looking up from the table, she saw a young man staring at her with same surprise she felt. She took in his dark hair, sharp, pale handsome face, haughty and intelligent and haunted expression, reminding her of Sirius. Haughty enough to remind of Malfoy, she thought, suddenly annoyed. The guy looked so pureblood she wanted to heck him on the spot. Suddenly she realized there she saw these runes: in that book about lost kings and small hairy-footed heroes. Upside-down letters he just written down formed "Osgiliath". This must be, she raked her memory, Faramir of Gondor. The only guy in that book she really liked.
Hermione thought hard. She wanted to comfort brave captain, not create another paradox. "Gondor will stand", she said, "and you will marry for love".
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timeasmymeasure
I'm so glad you consider these prompts
Date: 2007-05-22 07:56 pm (UTC)Faramir stretched and startled. On the other side of his table sat,
haunched over a large tome, a young girl in dark robes. She didn't
look a noble's daughter, nor a maidservant, and any girl had no
business in this distant corner of Minas Tirith library. She could be
dream, he thought. A vision. As a girl looked up, he saw a kindred
spirit, a naive quest for knowledge. As if it ever helps, he thought
bitterly. "I would that I had foresight of my ancestors", he
whispered.
The girl looked calculatingly, just like Mithrandir before giving his
partial answers. "Gondor will stand", she said, "and you will marry for
love".
*****
Hermione stretched and startled. Her table suddenly extended beyond
the window in some unfamiliar room, and that new half of it was
scattered with scrolls and volumes stamped with stylized tree. She
squinted at vaguely familiar rounded runes. Looking up from the
table, she saw a young man staring at her with same surprise she felt.
She took in his dark hair, sharp, pale handsome face, haughty and
intelligent and haunted expression, reminding her of Sirius. Haughty
enough to remind of Malfoy, she thought, suddenly annoyed. The guy
looked so pureblood she wanted to heck him on the spot. Suddenly she
realized there she saw these runes: in that book about lost kings and
small hairy-footed heroes. Upside-down letters he just written down
formed "Osgiliath". This must be, she raked her memory, Faramir of
Gondor. The only guy in that book she really liked.
Hermione thought hard. She wanted to comfort brave captain, not
create another paradox. "Gondor will stand", she said, "and you
will marry for love".