15. Storm Front
The moon scythes the morning – crystalline sickle that cuts summer loose. Audaliufs can feel it on the air from the wharf: rain. Damp lies a slick sheet on cobblestones – Fall hangs pendant on the Dog Days' tail.
His bottles have a lick of wet. This morn, men patch roof holes, test monkey-locks, re-letter worn signs ere the rains come – mend what's marred. Haradric taverners smile at him more easily, though 'tis cookies they give now – money's tight after this bad season.
The violinist, forked and weary, plays softly to the day for no coin, just gladness. Relief's coming...
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.
