Tolkien Fan Fiction
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| 2995 Third Age |
2995 Third Age "Daaaaaaddyyyyy! They’re after meeeeee!" "Shhhhhh, Éomer, 'tis but a dream." I burrow into Daddy's strong arms, sniffling, and beg a story. He laughs. "Long ago, a little boy was chased by great ugly demons. He cried, 'Help!'... and do you know what happened then?" Daddy's deep voice rumbles against my cheek. Too contented to speak, I shake my head. "Two mysterious Grey Ghostriders came galloping across the grasslands to defend him, and scared the demons away! Then they carried him home — but before he could thank them, they vanished, faster than you can blink!" But I cannot blink... eyes heavy.... Éomund climbs into bed, embracing my bulk with gentle arms, bellied against my back. "He sleeps?" "Aye... at last! He wanted a story; I told him of the Grey Ghostriders." "You know," I tease, "my father told me it was a little girl they rescued...." "That is not how the bards sing it! 'Tis most unseemly!" I chuckle at his mock-disapproval. "Today... the midwife said the baby rides low...." He props himself on his elbow, puzzled. "So... 'tis very likely a girl." I cover my ears, grinning at his most unseemly whoop. A plaintive voice floats through the doorway: "Daaaaaddddyyyyy!" |