casora_tigerkin

Chapter Four

Knock Before Opening the Bathroom Door

Life at my house is never dull. Not since I found Legs on the front porch and elves in my closets. Insane might be a better term for it, but I wouldn't trade it for the world.

WARNING: Severe injury of a small child, description of attack, inflicted wounds and medical treatment.

Glorfindel’s Meadow

Glorfindel did not doze long beside his small charge. He roused after a short time, but lay enjoying the warmth of the summer sun, the munching sound of Brandlir grazing and the buzzing of the bees in the heather mixed with the occasional splash of water as a fish jumped in the lake. It was such a perfect summer day. Rubbing a hand over his face, he finally rose to his feet. He glanced back down at the flushed and somewhat sticky face of Estel. The boy slept on, oblivious to all around him, and Glorfindel smiled. Such a peaceful thing— a sleeping child; so different from what children were like when awake!

Blákári's fingers itched to hold his axe. The further they rode from the Elvenking's halls, the more the sense of doom crept up his neck. In all his years he had never felt anything like this, not even when the dark ones had come to the Mountain with their demands. He did not remember much from his lessons on geography, at least concerning the forest of Mirkwood, but he thought that the fortress of Dol Guldur lay many hours, if not several days' ride, to the south. And weren't there mountains about half way?