Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 13 |
| March 8, 3019: Coil |
| All around town, malaise hung like fog – thick with fear, volatile as humiliation ever was. “See,” said some, among whom many who mourned Harad; “See their contempt!” “Because of you!” said others, and so the argument turned round and ugly. Šuraš felt unfriendly eyes upon her on her way to the well that not even Ba-a-šuvon's company could turn. “Surely they know,” Šuraš said to him, “that you are with them!” Her brother snorted, caustically. “We're Haradrim. Blood counts high.” “Maybe we deserve the guards,” she said. Ba-a-šuvon bridled, but said nothing. |