17 |
Faithful friends |
Prompt: Wilderland: kindness |
Rozuvakol had always called her kings by their names – the Adûnaic ones. She'd never felt at home in Sindarin. Moreover her pottery sold better since they'd closed the ports to Elves. And she'd liked the new faith – until the Temple rites. No elven lore needed to call them ungodly! "Mulkhêr"'s appetite daily waxed, though. People – Elendili – disappeared. One day, Rozuvakol found her neighbors gone, and their girls hiding in her yard. Poor frantic things! Incensed, she took them in, taught them some proper prayers, and to the Templers seeking urns, lied glibly: "My orphaned nieces, Yôzirânil and Anminalphel..." |