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22
2995 Third Age


Aldburg in the Folde
2995 Third Age


A young Rohirrim boy

"Daaaaaaddyyyyy! They’re after meeeeee!"

"Shhhhhh, Éomer, 'tis but a dream."

I burrow into Daddy's strong arms, sniffling, and beg a story. He laughs.

"Long ago, a little boy was chased by great ugly demons. He cried, 'Help!'... and do you know what happened then?"

Daddy's deep voice rumbles against my cheek. Too contented to speak, I shake my head.

"Two mysterious Grey Ghostriders came galloping across the grasslands to defend him, and scared the demons away! Then they carried him home — but before he could thank them, they vanished, faster than you can blink!"

But I cannot blink... eyes heavy....


Théodwyn

Éomund climbs into bed, embracing my bulk with gentle arms, bellied against my back.

"He sleeps?"

"Aye... at last! He wanted a story; I told him of the Grey Ghostriders."

"You know," I tease, "my father told me it was a little girl they rescued...."

"That is not how the bards sing it! 'Tis most unseemly!"

I chuckle at his mock-disapproval. "Today... the midwife said the baby rides low...." He props himself on his elbow, puzzled.

"So... 'tis very likely a girl." I cover my ears, grinning at his most unseemly whoop.

A plaintive voice floats through the doorway: "Daaaaaddddyyyyy!"

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