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roselightfairyOn TOP of figuring out a way of writing the Last Alliance, I just realized I'm also going to have to write what happens to/in Mirkwood during the LOTR trilogy TOO, which I had managed to skim over in previous stories (by, ya know, not having Legolas BE there), and I'm sick of the canon timeline I just want to write about my OWN stuff! *grumble*
My anthem through the entirety of this story has been "why am I doing this to myself," and it doesn't show any signs of stopping anytime soon.
There is a hiss from the other side of the tent, and one of the injured sits up. “Your high – your majesty?” he says, but it is as though the change in title sinks into his spirit as he speaks, and he says nothing more, subsiding back onto his pallet.
“There will be no debate about this,” Thranduil says, though it sounds as though every word costs him more strength than he has. “Your families trusted my father with your lives. Now that he is gone, the charge passes to me, and I” – He draws a deep breath of his own. “I will not let any more of them be squandered,” he finishes softly.
My anthem through the entirety of this story has been "why am I doing this to myself," and it doesn't show any signs of stopping anytime soon.
There is a hiss from the other side of the tent, and one of the injured sits up. “Your high – your majesty?” he says, but it is as though the change in title sinks into his spirit as he speaks, and he says nothing more, subsiding back onto his pallet.
“There will be no debate about this,” Thranduil says, though it sounds as though every word costs him more strength than he has. “Your families trusted my father with your lives. Now that he is gone, the charge passes to me, and I” – He draws a deep breath of his own. “I will not let any more of them be squandered,” he finishes softly.
