Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 8 |
| Love Story |
| Clutching his chubby cheek and waving a pointed, silver-painted stick, Beren yelled, "Woe! I'm hungry! Will I ever get out of this mess?" His face split in a broad grin. "Hark! It's music of a pipe unseen!" Behind the bushes, Daeron played a vigorous dance tune on a tin flute. Trailing a checkered woolen scarf, Lúthien scampered onto the grass and twirled on her tiptoes. Beren held out his plump arms. "Tinúviel! Tinúviel!" She bellowed, "Oh no! A Man!" and bolted. The performance came to a speedy end. Merry scribbled some notes on the script. Rosie folded her scarf, Sam wiped the spit off his flute, and Fatty stuck his "sword" into his belt. They looked expectantly at Bilbo. "Well?" said Merry. "What do you think?" Bilbo coughed. "It's a good start. But to capture the romance, I think you need to do something about the hair on Rosie's toes." |