So this was suppose to be a drabble, but it refused to stay within a hundred words. Inspired by an argument I ran into online about who really killed the Witch-king, Merry or Éowyn.
"I don't care what you say!"
Two riders of Rohan walked up the stony streets of Mundburg, arguing.
"The Lady Éowyn, though brave and fair, is still of the Race of Men. There is no mystical difference between men and women. If no living man could kill the Witch-king, then it must have been the blow from the holbytlan that slew him!"
"A stroke to the knee killed the greatest of the Ringwraiths?" The other Rider was clearly incredulous. "I have no arguments against the Halfling's bravery; the Lady Éowyn would have been dead without his assistance. But no knee injury has ever been fatal!"
"But no man could kill him!" the first Rider began to protest. The Elf walking in front of them sighed, and turned, deciding he would have to speak.
"You have the original prophesy wrong," he told them. "It was made to Eärnil, when he faced the Witch-king in the North. The prophesy was 'Far off yet is his doom, and not by the hand of man will he fall.' It was not that the Witch-king could not be killed by a man, though that seems to be what he thought, but that he would not."
The two Riders thought about that for a moment. Then the younger of the two spoke up shyly.
"How do you know of that prophecy, my lord?" he asked. Glorfindel raised an eyebrow, and gave them a sardonic smile.
"I am the one who made it," he said, then continued on his way, leaving the two Riders staring incredulously. He was heading to the sixth circle to meet the woman and the hobbit who had fulfilled what he had foreseen over a millennium ago.