3. Just A Touch
Most of the King’s men were sippin’ wine. Actually, some were doin’ more than sippin’, if you take my meanin’. But when the King threw them a sharp look, they slowed down.
The King himself hadn’t had a drop, so I asked him if he’d like some Old Winyards I’d managed to acquire from the Hobbits I’ve been tradin’ with. I’d heard that the King was acquainted with some of the wee folk and thought maybe I could entice him into a cup of the strong stuff. I don’t mind tellin’ you that part of my offer was made from sheer hospitality—that’s my job!—but part was from curiosity. Just wanted to see if the King was accustomed to using wine to cope with the headaches of his life. Wouldn’t be a bit surprised, hard as he works.
“Just a touch,” the King replied.
Seems he’s a man of moderation, that one.
Just as I finished pouring, a drunken, old fool named Arrad—not one of the King’s men, mind you—grabbed the backside of Silima, my serving girl. Now there’s somethin’ I just won’t tolerate. Silima’s a good girl, she is. And young. Shame she has to be ‘round a lot of drunken men, but her family needs the money, and I keep an eye out for her. But by and large, my guests are good folk like you, so it’s not often that I have to come to Silima’s rescue.
Young Silima was so taken aback by the affront that she dropped the tray she’d been carrying. Saw her wipe a tear from her cheek, too. Amazin’ what a man can do with just a touch.
Now as I was sayin’, gropin’ Silima’s not something I tolerate, so I moved to have a stern word with Arrad. Never got the chance, though; the King stood up so quickly that his chair fell over. He said naught. Just glared at the fellow, who quickly lowered his head. Everyone watchin’ knew that there’d be no more trouble. Then the King went over to Silima and helped her gather up the broken glass. Imagine that! Silima was so stunned she just stared at him for a moment or two before she continued cleanin’ up.
The King never said a word to Silima, but when the mess was cleaned up, he laid his hand on her arm in such a gentle manner that I saw the tension flow out of Silima’s face. She knew she was safe.
Yes, amazin’ what a man can do with just a touch.
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.