A Day's Journey through Minas Tirith by Himring  

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Drabble: Sprung from the Ashes

More about Bergil's wife.

The image prompt for this insta-drabble showed a cluster of pink flowers growing in a burnt landscape beside a track leading to a burnt hill.

Warnings for reference to slavery over several generations.


It is who I am, Bergil’s wife tells him on their first meeting, but it is my family, not my name. When my grandmother saw those first blossoms emerge from the ashes on the verge of the road from Barad-dur to Mount Doom, she burst into tears. We lost most of our history when Sauron enslaved us, dragging us west; parents died too young. When we found each other, again, those who had survived, scattered all over Nurn and Mordor, we found we had no name. So, we called ourselves the Fireweeds, after the plant my grandmother loved so much.


Chapter End Notes

100 words in MS Word.

The title reminds me of Bilbo's rhyme about Aragorn; that fits, because that rhyme was also one of the prompts of the Restoration Challenge.


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