Telling Tales
Dol Amroth, 2955 TA
". . . and so, the beautiful princess married the king, and they lived together happily for many an age." Angelimir shut the book, and considered his two little granddaughters.
"Grandfather, I think I should like to marry a king, when I am grown," Finduilas said, as earnestly as possible for a five year-old.
"Don't be a silly goose. You cannot marry the king. We don't have a king! Only a steward." Ivriniel was three years older, and was certain she was right about everything.
"Well, I shall marry the steward then!"
Angelimir laughed. "Oh, I think the steward is a bit too old for you, child. And besides, he is already married."
"See? I told you so." Ivriniel gave Finduilas a smug look, and stuck her tongue out at her sister for good measure. Finduilas was annoyed now, and glared at her sister, arms crossed defiantly.
"Fine, then. If I cannot marry the steward, I will marry his son!"