Tolkien Fan Fiction
| 7 |
| Thanksgiving for Healing |
A gapfiller of sorts for "Lesser Ring." |
Aragorn lay on his bedroll in the corner of his host’s tent, watching the moon through a hole in the fabric and listening to the creatures known as monkeys as they cried and gibbered while they fed in the heights of the trees that grew about the oasis in which the Bhatsis were camped. His heart was so filled with thanksgiving he was certain it would sound as true as the string of a great violin when stroked by the bow of the master musician. He needed no bottle of fine wine this night to feel giddy! Against all odds he’d managed to help call back the Khafra’s son from what the Haradrim thought of as the wharf from which Osiri sailed with the souls of the dead. He blessed whichever Power it was that had led him to take the right fork in the marked trail two days past. |