Six snowy days to tip the bottle, but Balhir's violinist turns letter. Everything's planned: hold the Goldilocks hostage, send their monkey, bearing false report, to play 'lady moon's' tune. Cookied bread crumbs'll spill down the hole to the wharf – like glowing crystal seeds to that boat north. Tail them, and he'll rope Pelargir some new 'pendants.'
It's peaches. But their lordships put a fork in his works: they want real blood to report. In his chair, Balhir stares at that instruction sheet. Men who write such don't like 'baggage,' but the reward…
For that money, he'll burn their docks himself.
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.