Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 9 |
| 'Tis A Truth Generally Acknowledged |
| When lords duel, their favors divide the lowly. A wail, violin-high, goes up by Moon-high Wharf, then shouts, sounds of struggle. When guardsmen arrive, there's one man down, three on another, a woman and a crowd. “What monkey business...?” Haldarion snarls, wrestling one Southron from golden-haired prey. They're all three sheets winded – bottle-broke, utterly forked, the Southrons screaming: “Longneck scum!” The battered Southron woman just rocks, keening. Ambarin grimaces. The grievance of idled hands! “Lock holes for you,” he mutters. 'Tis but a beginning: the crowd's discontent's ugly promise of more – mayhap worse – tomorrow... |
Prompt: bottle, wharf, violin, moon, monkey, fork, hole, lock, sheet |