Air is the fresh breath squeaking from Frodo lad’s laughing lips. It’s the wind that blows fresh fruit tree petals on Rosie as she spreads a picnic in the grass.
But air can whistle like a brutal storm on Caradhras, and ooze like the fetid stink of a spider’s deadly lair. It can be the hot and burning sear of Mordor’s smoking ruin.
Yet when the day is done, air is the breathing of a kiss ‘cross the table, to be caught in my heart and saved for when darkness comes.
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.