Short notes before the short intro:
This is very much a work in progress. I know where it will end up, but my mind is still trying to wrestle out the steps in between. I welcome any and all comment and criticism, even if it's to say "Everyone writes this story, and yours sucks!"
I freely acknowledge that this story is based on the works of JRR Tolkien, and as such, some of the names, places and situations mentioned are borrowed from those works. I write this solely for my own pleasure and the enjoyment (hopefully) of others, and no profit has been, is being, or ever will be made from this story.
I wrote another story, earlier, called "I Cannot Give You What You Seek," which was received with rave reviews (I'm assuming all my readers were shocked into silence wink) and although this isn't a sequel, it does rather follow where that one left off, chronologically if nothing else. If you can't quite place this story, or need some more background, read that one. It's very short.
This is dedicated to the good people of TORn.
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Lady Mildthryth was sleeping soundly; all the sounder that her husband and sons had been been feasting with the other aeldormen the night before and were yet absent. Glad as I was to see the tent free of men, I could have wished there fewer females -- aunts and cousins of all descriptions littered the floor and filled out the bed, blocking my path to Mildthryth's side. Snores filled the close air, making it difficult for me to believe that every one of the ladies was asleep. I balked, afraid to be seen.
If word should somehow get back to my brother...
My choices, however, were limited. Mildthryth would help me; and if she would not, I would know to drastically alter my plans. This is the easiest way, I told myself, even if it does not appear easy at the moment.
You must attempt it.