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iocaneAs promised, The Lord of the Barn -- While these two aren't the start of it, or the bulk of it, since I posted "Bonds of," the other day, I may as well give a little back story. Little being the key word. These puppies are shorter than I remembered, so I'm just putting them both up here.
Pointy Hat Trick
It was the hat that did it.
Having been allowed to choose from Theoden's stock of horses, Gandalf had made his way to the stable and grazing grounds. Having inspected the one called Shadowfax, Gandalf moved on to examine a mare, knowing them to be of gentler tempers.
He knelt to examine her leg when his hat was snatched off his head. Standing, he whirled to find it within the reach of Shadowfax. Reaching for the hat, Gandalf watched the animal dance backwards, holding his hat high in the air. Clutching his staff, the Wizard muttered under his breath. It was a spell meant to calm animals and make them more tractable. He didn't often use it, but his hat was at stake.
The horse, that damnable, arrogant stallion LAUGHED at him. Though his teeth were closed around Gandalf's hat, the horse was clearly laughing at him. Scowling, Gandalf glanced at his eyes and saw a frightening intelligence laughing back at him. He realized Shadowfax was no mere horse. He was something else - descended from creatures so old, they no longer walked the earth in pure form, having bred too oft with lesser creatures such as horses and the like. Slowly, he reached to stroke Shadowfax's neck, still drawn into those liquid brown eyes.
Shadowfax seemed to nod, setting Gandalf's hat back atop his head, only to knock it off again when he pressed his muzzle against the wizard's neck. Laughing, Gandalf ignored his hat as he wrapped his arms around the strong neck of the stallion, leaning against his strong body. He knew in that moment that Shadowfax was his and no other's, whoever else might lay claim to him. "Come, friend," he spoke in an ancient language that even Elves had forgotten. "We shall have fine adventures."
Nuzzling the wizard once more, Shadowfax bowed his great neck and delicately picked up Gandalf's hat by the point. Gently, in the manner of putting a flower into a lover's hair, he set the hat back atop the wizard's head.
And the sequel, takes place after Gandalf falls down ... Way down.
Bonds of ...
By Iocane
He could feel the tug with all of his mighty frame. Something in the stallion's heart seemed to give way that frigid winter day. His bond with the Not-Man with the backwards mane was suddenly stretched. Shadowfax's legs folded, and he sat as though ill or wounded. Closing his eyes, he rested his mind and slowly began to reach. There. Just there. At the every edge of his limits he could still feel the connection. It was weak, barely existing, but it was enough to hold him. The stallion worried that if it broke it would be some ages before he saw his Not-Man again, though he knew they would find each other once more in the Other Place.
For seven days Shadowfax, King of the Rohan steeds, did not move. Food and water were brought, and taken away untouched. The only sign of life was the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and the lifting of an eyelid when anyone approached. The brown depths hidden under the lid were enough to turn the staunchest healer around, not getting closer than a few paces.
On the eighth day, Shadowfax awoke from his light, troubled sleep with a start. The connection was back, surging through the stallion's mind like a sunrise after an eternal darkness.
With a mighty shout, he leapt to his feet and kicked down the stable doors. He'd had no food or water for a week, but he needed none. His Not-man was alive! And the bond between them glowed as brightly as ever. There was something different - stronger about the creature at the other end. Needing no map, Shadowfax began to gallop, not knowing where he was headed, knowing only that his Not-Man would be at the end of the journey.
Pointy Hat Trick
It was the hat that did it.
Having been allowed to choose from Theoden's stock of horses, Gandalf had made his way to the stable and grazing grounds. Having inspected the one called Shadowfax, Gandalf moved on to examine a mare, knowing them to be of gentler tempers.
He knelt to examine her leg when his hat was snatched off his head. Standing, he whirled to find it within the reach of Shadowfax. Reaching for the hat, Gandalf watched the animal dance backwards, holding his hat high in the air. Clutching his staff, the Wizard muttered under his breath. It was a spell meant to calm animals and make them more tractable. He didn't often use it, but his hat was at stake.
The horse, that damnable, arrogant stallion LAUGHED at him. Though his teeth were closed around Gandalf's hat, the horse was clearly laughing at him. Scowling, Gandalf glanced at his eyes and saw a frightening intelligence laughing back at him. He realized Shadowfax was no mere horse. He was something else - descended from creatures so old, they no longer walked the earth in pure form, having bred too oft with lesser creatures such as horses and the like. Slowly, he reached to stroke Shadowfax's neck, still drawn into those liquid brown eyes.
Shadowfax seemed to nod, setting Gandalf's hat back atop his head, only to knock it off again when he pressed his muzzle against the wizard's neck. Laughing, Gandalf ignored his hat as he wrapped his arms around the strong neck of the stallion, leaning against his strong body. He knew in that moment that Shadowfax was his and no other's, whoever else might lay claim to him. "Come, friend," he spoke in an ancient language that even Elves had forgotten. "We shall have fine adventures."
Nuzzling the wizard once more, Shadowfax bowed his great neck and delicately picked up Gandalf's hat by the point. Gently, in the manner of putting a flower into a lover's hair, he set the hat back atop the wizard's head.
And the sequel, takes place after Gandalf falls down ... Way down.
Bonds of ...
By Iocane
He could feel the tug with all of his mighty frame. Something in the stallion's heart seemed to give way that frigid winter day. His bond with the Not-Man with the backwards mane was suddenly stretched. Shadowfax's legs folded, and he sat as though ill or wounded. Closing his eyes, he rested his mind and slowly began to reach. There. Just there. At the every edge of his limits he could still feel the connection. It was weak, barely existing, but it was enough to hold him. The stallion worried that if it broke it would be some ages before he saw his Not-Man again, though he knew they would find each other once more in the Other Place.
For seven days Shadowfax, King of the Rohan steeds, did not move. Food and water were brought, and taken away untouched. The only sign of life was the gentle rise and fall of his chest, and the lifting of an eyelid when anyone approached. The brown depths hidden under the lid were enough to turn the staunchest healer around, not getting closer than a few paces.
On the eighth day, Shadowfax awoke from his light, troubled sleep with a start. The connection was back, surging through the stallion's mind like a sunrise after an eternal darkness.
With a mighty shout, he leapt to his feet and kicked down the stable doors. He'd had no food or water for a week, but he needed none. His Not-man was alive! And the bond between them glowed as brightly as ever. There was something different - stronger about the creature at the other end. Needing no map, Shadowfax began to gallop, not knowing where he was headed, knowing only that his Not-Man would be at the end of the journey.
