Disclaimer: No, I am not Tolkien, Tolkien's publisher, or Tolkien reincarnated. My writing would be much better if I were.
Author's Note: I am in the middle of study vocabulary for the GRE and I got bored. This is the result. Constructive criticism is welcome and flames might make me cry.
Abscond – to depart clandestinely, to steal off and hide
The elves crept stealthily toward their sleeping target. The first one caught the second's eye.
Ready?
The other one nodded.
The two warriors took aim… and fired.
Glorfindel jumped up after a dried pea ricocheted off his forehead. "Get back here you little orcs!" He shouted, but the twins had already absconded into the night.
Aberrant – deviating from the norm
"I'm staying, Ada I am staying with Estel." Arwen looked into her father's eyes. Although he said nothing, she could see his heart was broken. However, Arwen had made her decision. She had chosen an aberrant fate: the fate of Luthien.
Approbation – expression of praise
"Ouch!" cried Pippin as the flat of Boromir's sword connected with his arm.
Boromir sighed and wiped the sweat off his forehead.
"I'll never get this right," Pippin slumped dejectedly.
"Never say never," Boromir admonished. "Now, let's try again."
Boromir and Pippin took up their swords. Boromir easily parried the hobbit's strokes, coaching and encouraging. He did not see the rock until he tripped over it and stumbled backwards. Pippin seized the opportunity and leapt at his opponent with a shockingly fierce battle cry. The hilt of his sword hit Boromir's elbow, and the man's weapon flew out of his grip.
Pippin was horrified when he realized what he had done. Boromir stood up, gingerly holding his elbow. Pippin readied himself for an angry lecture, instead he was awarded a smile and showered with approbation.
Axiom – self evident truth
"Mr. Strider sir?" puffed Sam as he breathlessly trotted after the Ranger.
"Yes, Sam," the man said without glancing back.
"I wanted to… that is to say…we wanted to…were wondering if…perhaps…if it's not too much trouble, sir…"
Strider stopped jogging and turned to face the four hobbits. "Yes?"
Before Sam could blather on, Pippin interjected, "We were wondering if we could stop for tea sometime soon. It's already getting late and it's very uncomfortable to travel on an empty stomach."
"I'm afraid we don't have time to stop for tea," Strider turned to move.
"Why?" Pippin pressed.
"You are being hunted by nine of the deadliest creatures in Middle Earth, and you want to stop for tea?" Strider was incredulous.
"Of course, why wouldn't we?" The hobbits glanced at each other. Wherever hobbit were, whatever hobbits were doing, they always took a break for afternoon tea. It was axiomatic.
Strider shook his head and started jogging. The hobbits were forced to follow.
"Strange fellow," Pippin observed, and the others agreed.
Capricious – erradic, inclined to change one's mind impulsively
"Of all the options we were given, or not given rather, I believe taking the Ring to Mordor is the right one." Erestor said as he approached Aragorn.
Aragorn raised his eyebrow in a guesture he had learned from his ada. A few hours earlier Erestor had strongly advised against the "fools' quest."
"I know, Estel, that seems rather capricious of me, but my duty as an advisor is to point out different options and their flaws. This is a fools' quest, but that is why it may work. History is unkind to the wise: Nerdanel, Finrod, Gil-Galad. It is fools like Beren that have succeeded." He gently laid a hand on Aragorn's arm, "Besides, foolishness is not the only quality that accompanies the Fellowship. They travel with Estel, with hope."
"If only that will be enough." Aragorn sighed.
Chicanery – trickery
After Smeagol brought fresh fish back to Sam and Master, he was allowed to hunt on his own. The fat hobbit grumbled, but as long as Smeagol brought food back for him to eat he was allowed to go.
Gollum would often join him, and they would plan while they hunted. They hoped their chicanery would work. They were both desparate to steal back The Precious.
Master did not suspect he was being betrayed.
Connoisseur – expert in the matters of taste
Eowyn inched closer to her brother. Although wild horses would not force her to admit it, she felt self-conscious is the crowded ballroom at Minas Tirith.
"Why do they look at me like that?" She asked Eomer, indicating a group of giggling young ladies.
"Perhaps it's your style of dress," suggested Eomer.
"What's wrong with how I'm dressed?"
Eomer began a list, "Your hair is worn down, not plaited or in a bun; you are wearing a green velvet dress instead of a blue flouncy one; and your shoes…"
"What's wrong with my shoes?" Eowyn asked sharply.
"Nothing, however the ladies of Minas Tirith do not wear riding boots on formal occasions," Eomer summed up and took a long sip from his tankard.
"I never knew you were such a connoisseur, dear brother," Eowyn said drily.
"I simply have an interest in Gondorian culture." Eomer winked at an exceptionally pretty lady walking past.
Gondorian culture my foot, thought Eowyn.
Disabuse – to undeceive
Elrond put his quill pen down when he heard a knock at his study door.
"Gandalf, I am relieved to see you. Do you have the Ring?" Elrond guided his guest to a chair.
Gandalf wearily sank into the chair. "Alas, no. I was…waylaid by Saruman." Gandalf poured himself a glass of mirouvor and gulped it down as if it were common ale.
Elrond chose to ignore the wizards lacking manners. Instead he asked, "What advice does Saruman give?"
"He believes we should cut a deal with Sauron and surrender the Ring."
Elrond cocked an eyebrow. Gandalf's wit annoyed him.
"I am not deceiving you. It is time you were disabused of Saruman's mask of friendship."
Elrond closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Tell me."
Disparate – distinct
"Ada! Nana! Come quickly! Elrohir fell out of a tree!"
Celebrian was jolted from her reading by Elladan's frenzied exclamation. She snapped her book closed and followed her husband outside. She saw Elrohir crumpled on the ground in tears.
Elrond reached him first and began to work as a healer. Celebrian had to cradle her elfling's head while her husband coaxed his hands from his face. Apparently, Elrohir was going to have a nasty black eye, but Elrond assured them all that he would recover.
It wasn't until dinner that Celebrian's heart resumed its normal rhythm. By then, Elrohir was fine, and quite proud of his wound.
Glorfindel leaned toward Elrond and said, "Peredhel, look on the bright side. Now, for a little while your identical sons are disparate."
Elrond did not laugh, but he glanced at his wife. Celebrian shot Glorfindel a look that would freeze a balrog.
Glorfindel mumbled an apology. She must have learned that glare from her mother.
Ada - Dad
Nana - Mom
Estel - Hope, Aragorn's elvish name