Supper passes; the hours creep by, the moon’s shadows moving across the floor, ever changing, but still the wind is constant. It hisses outside, still battling for mastery.
The gate blows open. Are those footsteps? Shrieks? No, ‘tis just the wind. Still, best to be sure... I take a cautious step toward the door.
A great knock, a greater gust, and then panic gripped me.
This is a work of fan fiction, written because the author has an abiding love for the works of J R R Tolkien. The characters, settings, places, and languages used in this work are the property of the Tolkien Estate, Tolkien Enterprises, and possibly New Line Cinema, except for certain original characters who belong to the author of the said work. The author will not receive any money or other remuneration for presenting the work on this archive site. The work is the intellectual property of the author, is available solely for the enjoyment of Henneth Annûn Story Archive readers, and may not be copied or redistributed by any means without the explicit written consent of the author.