Source: Pre-Ring War
Disclaimer: Tolkien found the stories, they are all his; Kortirion found this character and jotted him in the margins.
Notes: A continuing character from 'Chalk' & 'Slate', but the first drabble was such a downer... I had to write the second.
He was glad to leave the marble of Minas Tirith behind, exchanging the slippery, sepia-veined stone of formal halls for Anduin’s soft verges. He travelled with some itinerant craftsmen, seeking work at farmsteads and hamlets. None questioned the monosyllabic 'man' with the puckered scar. Surgeons had told him it would heal, if he’d let it… but it was too soon… too raw to let go.
That night he watched the full moon drift across the sky… pale, veined, crystalline… and realised why he didn’t care for Gondor’s marble. The veins looked like rivulets of dried blood over pale elven skin.
Sun and Moon rolled alternately across the skies, a celestial game of marbles, like those remembered from his youngest days. They’d played on paved courtyards, flicking glass spheres, wondrous with internal spirals and coloured threads. It made him smile, and for once his scarred cheek didn’t ache in response.
That night after supper, he surprised them by taking a turn in the ballad-singing. Each night thereafter his fellows urged more songs from him. Until one night, near Fangorn Forest, he vanished. Becoming legend... the Scarred Man with a voice so fair, the elves took him for one of their own.