TH Drabble: Pour Me One More
Jul. 14th, 2007 12:29 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
martasficTitle: Pour Me One More
Summary: An OFC dwarf introduces an OMC boy from Dale to a Dwarvish drink.
Word Count: 100
Rating: General (nothing objectionable)
Timeline: Mid-Third Age (bookverse)
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Bolin's lips puckered as he tasted the dark liquid. "Smaug's fire, what be this swill?"
His friend's silky beard no longer masked her smirk, but at least she had the decency not to laugh aloud. "Mead, my uncle's own brew." Thrís managed a full sip without choking and cocked an eyebrow triumphantly.
Bolin fetched two mugs and filled them with water. "Ale runs smooth; this slop would choke a warg."
Yet they both drained their cups in a single gulp. No dwarf would outdrink a man of Dale – and Bolin knew Thrís felt likewise. 'Twould be a first-rate night indeed.
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Author's Notes
Bolin and Thrís are original characters from my story "Stock and Stone". If you haven't read it, Bolin is a boy from Dale and Thrís a dwarf-girl from the Lonely Mountain that meet in the years after the events of The Hobbit.
The title comes from that oh-so-not-Ardaish Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy:
And one last thing: The idea was inspired by the tolkien_weekly prompt "Proof", which according to http://www.m-w.com/ can mean:
8 a : the minimum alcoholic strength of proof spirit b : strength with reference to the standard for proof spirit; specifically : alcoholic strength indicated by a number that is twice the percent by volume of alcohol present
Summary: An OFC dwarf introduces an OMC boy from Dale to a Dwarvish drink.
Word Count: 100
Rating: General (nothing objectionable)
Timeline: Mid-Third Age (bookverse)
------
Bolin's lips puckered as he tasted the dark liquid. "Smaug's fire, what be this swill?"
His friend's silky beard no longer masked her smirk, but at least she had the decency not to laugh aloud. "Mead, my uncle's own brew." Thrís managed a full sip without choking and cocked an eyebrow triumphantly.
Bolin fetched two mugs and filled them with water. "Ale runs smooth; this slop would choke a warg."
Yet they both drained their cups in a single gulp. No dwarf would outdrink a man of Dale – and Bolin knew Thrís felt likewise. 'Twould be a first-rate night indeed.
-------
Author's Notes
Bolin and Thrís are original characters from my story "Stock and Stone". If you haven't read it, Bolin is a boy from Dale and Thrís a dwarf-girl from the Lonely Mountain that meet in the years after the events of The Hobbit.
The title comes from that oh-so-not-Ardaish Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy:
Oh don't give me no more of that Old Janx Spirit
No, don't you give me no more of that Old Janx Spirit
For my head will fly, my tongue will lie, my eyes will fry and I may die
Won't you pour me one more of that sinful Old Janx Spirit
And one last thing: The idea was inspired by the tolkien_weekly prompt "Proof", which according to http://www.m-w.com/ can mean:
8 a : the minimum alcoholic strength of proof spirit b : strength with reference to the standard for proof spirit; specifically : alcoholic strength indicated by a number that is twice the percent by volume of alcohol present