Drabbles for Mithlond

by various

Sam stood alone on the shore, watching even after he could no longer see the ship. The tears had long since dried on his cheeks and there would be no more for Frodo. Instead, Sam smiled gently to himself, reflecting the smile he had last seen on his dear friend’s face. There had been a spark of genuine happiness in those expressive blue eyes that Sam had not seen for years and that was as comforting as Frodo’s last words to him. Sam straightened and turned to where Merry and Pippin had waited patiently for him. “Let’s go home now.”
- Nuroreiel

Sweet Mithlond

Sweet were the breezes across the sea, fresher than anything ever scented, even beyond the memories of fresh, rain-driven springtimes mad with blossoms and dew. Bright were the waters with the sunlight sparkling and dancing across them, and above the seabirds danced as well. The gold-brown-grey of the sand swirled amid the waves as they ever-reached their way up towards the land. What finer birthing place could creation ever conceive for the maiden voyage of such ships? What further beauty could this dying land give, than to place its timbers upon the gentle waves and watch them as they found eternity?
- Primula


As a salty breeze tenderly tousled his golden hair, the elf kept watch from his tower high on Emyn Beriad. His ageless eyes gazed out over the Gulf of Lhun and swept westwards across the sea to behold an elven ship on it's last journey. The setting sun had bathed it in golden splendour, a final benediction for the brave Ringbearers, Frodo and Bilbo. Like a graceful swan in flight, sails swelling in the evening wind, the great ship rode the sparkling waves before vanishing beyond his sight.
Sadly the elf turned his eyes to face a world suddenly diminished.
- Daisy Gold

Cirdan's Beard

"Ouch!" cried the Elf and not for the first time that day. First his hammar slipped, banging his thumb, then that beam knocked him on the head and now his beard had gone and caught in the decorative feather-like edging he had been chiseling since lunchtime. He grumbled as he untangled the silvery, silky chin-hairs and rewound them into the facial bun he wore when working. Why oh why had he ever consented to trying out that 'sun-lotion' those dwarves had sold him all those years ago? And why oh why had he put it on his face, of all places?
- Primula

The Rubber Ducky Incident

Cirdan could only stare in total disbelief when he saw the huge mass of little yellow rubber duckies clogging his harbor. Then he turned to Gandalf who took a step backward when he saw the anger on the elf’s face. “Care to take a stab at who is responsible for this?!”

“Now just calm down Cirdan! I’m sure Merry and Pippin will quickly clear this up!”

Suddenly there came some anxious shouts before two boats collided because the duckies kept them from steering out of each others way.

“I hope so for their sakes!” Cirdan grumbled before he stomped off.
- Dinledhwen

So, Where are We Going?

Frodo and his party stopped at the stone pier in confusion. Gandalf stepped up and scanned around the Bay while Elrond and Galadriel muttered together behind him. Where was Cirdan? Where was the swan ship?

Bilbo toddled over to Elrond and took a look at the paper that the Elf-Lord was consulting, then tugged on his sleeve. "Master Elrond, you have your map upside-down."

Elrond obediently rotated the paper and the watching Elves exclaimed together over their mistake. "I do apologize Master Bilbo! It appears we were supposed to convene at the other Grey Havens, not this one!"


"Other Grey Havens?" asked the Hobbits with surprise. "What other Grey Havens?" Gandalf, talkative as always, only rolled his eyes.

"Cirdan opened them as a chain of franchised boat-yards ages ago," Galadriel answered. "Celeborn bought one and operated it by Anduin for a while, but we only had permits to build little river boats at that location; it was never very lucrative. Tons of leftovers we had to get rid of."

"So..." said Sam, "There's not only more, there's lots?"

"Ah!" said Elrond still peering at his map. "We want the one further south, with that new boat-launcher. Head 'em out!"
- Primula

The Last Ship Out

Cirdan stood upon the crest of the hill and looked down upon his well-loved Bay. Below him the last ship waited by the peaceful dock. He raised his bullhorn to his mouth and called inward to the lands of Middle-earth.


"Aw, already? But we just got here!" came a complaint from the trees nearby.

"But we were just starting a new song!" grumbled another voice as the trees came alive with Elven host.

"It just isn't faaaair," whined an Elf, "Why are you not making any more ships? You said you'd wait for us!"


Grumbling and whining, Elves began to file down the hillside, then began to run as they caught sight of the ship. It's formerly gleaming, empty decks were already beginning to be thronged with Elves. More Elves descended by the steps and pathways at the ends of the Bay, others made their way down ropes cast over the steeper parts of the cliffs. The paths began to be alive with Elves, pushing, shoving and complaining.

Cirdan gave a resigned sigh as the ship began to flounder under its load, sinking until its deckrails were nearly to the level of the sea.


Elves were still trying to get aboard the ship, clinging to the mast and ropes. Fistfights were breaking out. Cirdan watched as one of those aboard cut the ropes with a sword and the ship lumbered out to sea, leaving a shrieking, protesting mass on the docks. Some of them acutally leapt into the water, trying to swin after.

Cirdan's clear eyes watched, knowing what would happen. Sure enough, the remaining crowd turned to him, begging and beseeching him. He knew they would continue until he built another ship. And he would. Again. Prophetic gifts and procrastinators just didn't mix, he thought.
- Primula