A Double Drabble for Surgicalsteel
Having only gotten to bed two hours before dawn after spending most of the night treating the participants in a taproom brawl at the Pony, Serindë stirred sleepily, reluctantly rousing as sounds and scents registered. She had closed the curtains over the diamond-paned window before she dropped into the wide bed which she had last shared with her husband a few weeks before at Yule.
A giggle, quickly muffled, was followed by the soft creak of the floorboards as quick, irregular footsteps approached the bed. The clink of several pieces of pottery rattling against each other was heralded by the appetizing smell of ginger tea, and-was that cinnamon?
A firmer footstep caused her to open her eyes and she tiredly blinked against the glare of the lamp that the tallest of the invaders held and her eyes widened with surprise.
As 6-year-old Tarie and and 8-year-old Thorongil laid the tray laden with a small vase filled with a few sprays of dried rosemary and lavender, a plateful of shire toast and syrup, sliced store apples, fresh bread, butter, and Opal Underhill's special berry jam across her lap, Halbarad, holding the teapot in his other hand, said, "Happy Birthday, Serindë-love."
(Not that something like this hasn't happened to me in real life, oh no... *whistling innocently*) Hee!
A giggle, quickly muffled, was followed by the soft creak of the floorboards as quick, irregular footsteps approached the bed. The clink of several pieces of pottery rattling against each other was heralded by the appetizing smell of ginger tea, and-was that cinnamon?
A firmer footstep caused her to open her eyes and she tiredly blinked against the glare of the lamp that the tallest of the invaders held and her eyes widened with surprise.
As 6-year-old Tarie and and 8-year-old Thorongil laid the tray laden with a small vase filled with a few sprays of dried rosemary and lavender, a plateful of shire toast and syrup, sliced store apples, fresh bread, butter, and Opal Underhill's special berry jam across her lap, Halbarad, holding the teapot in his other hand, said, "Happy Birthday, Serindë-love."
(Not that something like this hasn't happened to me in real life, oh no... *whistling innocently*) Hee!