And here's the next prompt for your writing pleasure:

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Death

Prince Imrahil and his son Elphir stood by Mithrandir and Éomer of Rohan upon the battlefield, looking down at a hideous yet still kingly helm. “They tell me he named himself to you as Death,” the Prince commented.

“So he did,” admitted the Wizard grimly.

“It would appear,” Elphir said with forced lightness, “that in this case he was mistaken. Rather than wreaking your death, he found his own.”

“And so he did indeed.” With a sigh, the Wizard turned his attention to the black pool of fabric that had given the wraith what form he’d known, stirring and shifting it with the butt of his staff. “A noble he was once in Númenor, and a descendant of Elros Tar-Minyatur. But he desired to be powerful and a King in his own right, so he sailed east, returning to Middle Earth and founding the nation of Angmar. He came to fear death. When one calling himself Annatar came to him bearing a gift that promised immortality, he accepted it.”

“And what did that profit him?” Éomer asked as Mithrandir uncovered a spiked gauntlet over a flattened glove of black leather. “He did not remain a Man. Nay, he became instead a wraith, no better than a barrow-wight or those who haunted the Paths of the Dead.”

The White Wizard twisted his left hand into the fabric of his robe, lifted the gauntlet and glove, and shook them over his protected palm. All looked with revulsion at the blasted metal that fell out, all that remained of what had been the Nazgûl’s Ring of Power. “I fear you are wiser than he was. Sauron’s gift transformed him not into the godling he sought to become, but instead into the very form he’d feared most, trapping within the plane of mortality a spirit intended to eventually go free while allowing the body to lose its integrity.” He shook his head. “Not all transformations are for the good, or so he found, but too late. Trying to cheat death, all he did was to enter into it without the benefits of being freed from the Circles of Arda.” He lifted what remained of the ring and examined it. “Mayhap, now that your sister’s blade has freed him at last from the spell of this, he will be able to find himself once again.”

*

And outside the Bounds of Arda a belatedly released spirit sought to remember the name it had once borne.

 
And here's the next prompt for your writing pleasure:

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The Hanged Man

He was always far more reserved than Bilbo, as far back as I remember him. But still as a young Hobbit he could and did laugh freely, his humor perhaps the more delightful because his many griefs experienced gave it depth. He was always compassionate and intelligent, but with a level of impatience with the slowness of others to appreciate the depths of their own lack of experience.

But now----

Frodo Baggins was never a simple Hobbit, and now he is so changed by his time of trial with the Ring. If he remains a Hobbit at all, it is merely due to the accident of birth. He offered himself due to imperfect knowledge of what the Ring would do if left abroad within the wide world and a terror even then of losing It to another. Although It was just awakening, yet It still had such a hold upon him! Even after he realized he would not likely survive the destruction of the thing, and his further appreciation that the only way he could even see It destroyed would be for himself to fall with It into the fire, yet he persevered, in the end so scoured that he truly did not mind the realization that he must die himself to see the quest achieved, as he desired only rest and freedom from Its torment there at the end. He was disappointed to wake to the realization that he was yet alive within this world, I think.

What griefs he has known since, the worst being the realization that he has no further place within the world as he found it. He looked into the heart of Saruman, seeing what he had been intended to be, and recognizing another whose very being had been scoured away by the lust engendered by the Ring, and he knew pity. He was granted no wife, no child of his body and spirit, no new family to replace that stolen from him when he was but a child. He received little honor and less understanding from his own people for all he had sacrificed for them.

That was the worst, I suspect--that sacrifice of his identity as a Hobbit of the Shire.

So, come my friend--come now and know the final act of transformation. Realize now that if you have lost yourself as a Hobbit of the Shire and a mere mortal from Middle Earth, it is merely the prelude to finding yourself as you are now capable of being. There is still so much for you to know, and to do, and to be....

 
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Please post your take always in a new post and NOT as a comment!

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Strength

Saradoc Brandybuck watched his wife deal courteously with the messengers who’d come from the King’s Bridge to bring the news that their son, nephew, cousin, and Frodo’s gardener had returned, and had succeeded in turning the Shiriff House there upon its ear.

“You should see them!” gasped out Fred Oldbuck. “I’ve never seen outfits such as they’re wearing! Your Merry--I’d not have recognized him if I’d not heard him speak! All in greens and golds, but in leather and fabrics I’ve never seen before in my life! And swords--they all have swords, you see. And shields, or at least Merry and Pippin do. As for Frodo Baggins--him and his friend from Hobbiton are all got up like princes from one of the storybooks he used to read to us when we were younger.”

“And Pippin--he’s well?” asked Esmeralda.

“Oy, is he! And he’s grown--him and your Merry both--quite the tallest Hobbits I’ve ever seen! Their hair’s grown some, too--past their shoulders, both of them, and I’ll swear twice as curly as it ever was before!”

Sara asked, “Are they coming here first? We should tell them what we’ve learned about how these ruffians of Lotho’s act....”

But Fred was shaking his head. “No--they’re going straight to Hobbiton. Frodo was saying that they needed to confront Lotho himself, that the family needs to put him in his proper place.”

Esme nodded, and stood to see to it he and his companions were served a proper meal and a good ration of the Hall’s best brandy. How could Saradoc help but love and respect her, knowing she would see first to the needs of their folk and their guests, even though he knew that what she really wanted to do was to run all the way to wherever it was along the Road the wanderers had reached and confront--and hug and scold the four of them for a good hour or two?

He’d married the strongest and most gracious Hobbitess within the Shire--of that he was certain.

 
And here's the next prompt for your writing pleasure:

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Please post your take always in a new post and NOT as a comment!

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The dialogue is drawn from The Two Towers, "The Voice of Saruman." For Tallis.

When Archetypes Fight: Heirophant vs. Magician

“When last I visited you, you were the jailor of Mordor, and there I was to be sent.” Saruman controlled his temper as he heard Gandalf out. “Think well, Saruman. Will you not come down?”

“There are conditions, I presume?”

“You will first surrender to me the Key of Orthanc, and your staff.”

“If you wish to treat with me, while you have a chance, go away, and come back when you are sober! ... Good day!”

“Come back, Saruman!”

Never had he heard such a voice of command, not here within Middle Earth, not even in his communions with the Lord of Mordor. Saruman turned reluctantly, and quailed. Looking at his fellow Istar he saw not the Man’s seeming that Gandalf had worn for much of this last age of the Sun, but instead the royal might of the Maia that that seeming hid. Although Gandalf did not bother to part the grey cloak he wore over his white robes, there could be no question of the power he held being unveiled, the Light of his Being blazing forth as bright as Arien herself. And within Gandalf’s new staff was such potential! How Saruman hungered for it! He grasped his own staff to him, prepared to draw from it the power he needed to wrest that of his rival from him. But it answered him not!

Fool! Ah, Curumo, how little of you as you were is left, for you have spent it profligately over the years. Each time you have practiced cunning rather than charity, treachery rather than honoring your alliances, relied on craft rather than on honest dealings, you have lost a bit more of your true self. And what is left of you, I wonder?

Gandalf raised his staff slightly. “Saruman, your staff is broken!” And the ebon wood of Saruman’s staff burst into a thousand fragments, fragments that caught fire and burned swiftly to ash. Only he and Gandalf between them knew, however, that this act was but a show for the others, that there had been no power left within it for him to draw upon.

Saruman felt his heart twist within him, realizing he was now little better than those who followed in the train of Olórin.

And today's prompt is:

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When archetypes fight ...

Today we want you to make two or more of the archetypes we had writing prompts for so far get into a fight in your drabble or story! No matter if it's a serious or a silly argument, a duel or a war ... let them fight!

• The Fool
• The Magician
• The High Priestess
• The Empress
• The Emperor
• The Hierophant
• The Lovers
• The Chariot
• Justice
• The Hermit
• The Wheel of Fortune

Reading tip: "Psychoanalysis of Myth" by Stefan Stenudd (a very interesting article about myths and archetypes)

It doesn't matter if you discover these archetypes in canon or AU constellations of your favourite fandom or in o-fic. Just show us what you make of those mythical figures, their symbolism and their traits!

... and of course, have FUN!

The Wheel of Fortune

Elrond looked about the circle of chairs with interest. One of these would be moved, he knew, to rise and accept the role of Ringbearer, although he could not say for certain which it might be. There were certain individuals whose Light shone particularly brightly to his enhanced sight: Gandalf, he knew, would not take It, nor would Aragorn. That disposed of two of those seated in the ring.

He shuddered. A ring about the Ring, and a Ring intended to destroy the fortunes of all save one who sought to invoke Its power. Thranduil’s son shone clearly, as, unexpectedly, did Gimli son of Glóin. Now, that was most interesting, when he saw a Dwarf as clearly as he did an Elf. Indeed, the Dwarf was almost as bright as was Glorfindel, whom he knew would not touch any artifice of the Enemy. There was a dull rosy aura about the warrior Boromir, and a warm glow about Bilbo that the influence of the Ring appeared to leave untouched. The Lights of the other Elves within the circle appeared somehow dampered, however.

That left but two others whose Lights could be discerned--Bilbo’s kinsman Frodo and the gardener seated at his feet. The evil of the Ring pressed now against the Light of Frodo Baggins, which stubbornly shone a purer mithril in response.

He knew already where it was the wheel would point to once it stopped spinning....

  And here's the next prompt for your writing pleasure:

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Please post your take always in a new post and NOT as a comment!

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... oh, and don't forget to read and comment on what other participants come up with!

The Hermit

He watched the messenger sent him by the head of their order with a feeling of unrest in his heart. He hated traveling far from Rhosgobel, there where he watched over the activities of Dol Guldur and Mordor with growing concern. The great spiders and rabid wolves, aided by orcs and wargs, had been gathering about the borders of Thranduil’s lands; and once they passed that point they would march upon the Beornings, the Woodsmen, and the remaining horseherders of the Eotheod in the northern reaches of the Anduin. Who would sound the alarm if he was not there to send out his own birds?

But, if Curunír desired to speak to Gandalf, Radagast supposed he must go westward over the mountains. Perhaps he could stop to speak with Iarwain while he was abroad....

For FrodoBaggins252 for her birthday.

Justice

“You know the law that I have made, Faramir--that no stranger to Gondor is to walk freely through Ithilien.”

“Yes, Father, and usually I would agree with you.”

“But these two and the gangrel creature you describe as their guide--you held them not, and did not bring them here to Minas Tirith for my judgment.”

“You know that I did not, Father. I would not have that--thing--anywhere near anyone I love. I could see in the Halfling’s eyes how very much it cost him merely to bear it.”

“But he does not know the way! And what way does the other creature know that leads off of the road to the cursed city of the Nazgûl, and how does he know of it?”

“There is but one way I have been advised of, Father--the Pass of Cirith Ungol. I know that it is a way of dread; but then all ways that lead into the Nameless One’s lands are ways of dread, are they not? As for how he knows of it--that I cannot say. We had no time together to share all that each of us knows--or guesses.”

“I will remind you that were you a lesser man of Gondor your life should be forfeit for what you have done.”

“Then suffer that justice to fall on me, if my judgment should prove ill. But each of us must judge as we might, and I will not regret my decision even if I must kneel to the sword of the headsman. And Peregrin’s kinsman--were he a Man rather than a Pherian I would say of him he is one whose own judgment is keen. I saw it in his eyes--he knows that he will not return from this quest. He will either die upon the way, or within the Sammath Naur itself.”

“And what is it that you mean to say to me with this?”

Faramir sighed and rolled his shoulders, his eyes weary and sad. “Only this--by sending him onward I have merely assured that in the end he will suffer the death that is to be the fate of strangers within Ithilien.” He raised his chin defiantly. “Perhaps I have not administered your justice directly, but I have set it in motion, I fear, as surely as if I held the headsman’s sword myself.”

 
And here's the next prompt for your writing pleasure:

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---

Please post your take always in a new post and NOT as a comment!

(ONLY exception: participants without a LiveJournal account may post their takes as comments. In that case the moderators will repost them as separate entries.)

... oh, and don't forget to read and comment on what other participants come up with!