Title: Stars (The three drabbles are individually titled: ...of Home, ...Above and ...Below.)
Disclaimer: Tolkien liked stars quite a lot, it seems.
AN: All about the same person - it should be reasonably obvious who.
“We’re so far from home!”
The wail was one of longing and despair, but the other’s voice was gentle, like a parent’s to a distressed child.
“Look Up. What do you see?”
At first confused, he did look up, his eyes drinking in the sparkling wash across the black velvet night.
“The Plough, and there’s the Farmer, and there the Great Boar.”
“I have walked for many miles, Master Hobbit, and for many years, but I need only look up to know that the same stars shine upon my home, and that it is not so very far at all.”
The stars were the brightest they had ever seen; like silver they gleamed in the dim light. When the darkness of Mordor had fallen across their kingless land, the people had feared never again to see the stars. Now though, even as monstrous beasts filled the air with their shrieks and foul orks swarmed across the fields, the soldiers looked to the stars above them, some with tear-filled eyes, like astronomers taken by some disbelieving joy; a rapturous delight.
As the seven silver points flowed upon dark velvet, a shout went out amongst the gathered soldiers:
“The King has returned!”
His eye burned so bright and with such wroth as to sear the very substance of the seeing-stone.
“What do you behold, my lord?”
“The North Star.”
“But my lord, you look to the west... and to the ground. Are stars not in the sky?”
“Not this one.” The voice was as the sea upon granite cliffs; dark and malevolent as a storm. “This one Scurries upon the earth. It shines bright though. It seeks to burn me. But what is one light to my darkness? It shall dim and fade soon enough.”
“I see other stars about it, lord.”