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"The House of a Friend" & other drabbles by Himring

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Prompt: Slate




‘Shale, schist, slate!’ sings Narvi in his deep gravelly voice.  ‘Shale, schist, slate! Shale for the roads of Elven Town, slate for its roofs!’
Meticulously, he positions his chisel and splits the foliated rock, again and again.
‘Slate for the roof: duchesses for the Gwaith-i-Mirdain, narrow ladies for Celebrimbor…’
He trims leaves of rock into flat, thin squares: larger ones, smaller ones…
‘Narvi, my friend,’ says Celebrimbor, ‘you have the strength of ten dwarves, but I see your apprentices failing on their feet. How about a brief rest and a glass of the red wine I just received from Edhellond?’




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