Aearwen's Little Bits - Determined - a gift for pandemonium_213

[aearwen2]

My Muse is a harsh task-master. About ten days ago, I was bitten by a rabid plot bunny that had somehow escaped the hutch and decided to maul me. Since then, I have been churning out chapters of a completely new piece - which looks to be heading toward novel length now - entitled "The Spoils of War." It is probably one of the darkest things I've ever written in this fandom, and certainly rivals anything I wrote before.

As a result, today's posting will be limited to my drabble - which is my gift to pandemonium_213. It isn't much, but it is given with great affection. Happy Birthday, Pandë!



He stared at the bandage-wrapped lump that should have been his right hand and glared. He was tired of the looks, of the pity. For days he'd questioned whether he should be angry or grateful that he'd been rescued.

What good was a warrior with a useless sword-arm?

He picked up his sword with his left hand, and found it was heavy, unwieldy. He tried to swing it and nearly dropped it. He knew what to do, but the muscles refused to cooperate.

Maedhros swung again, now fiercely determined. He'd learned once; he could learn again, and better than before.