The comb pushes valiantly against a wall of debris, but has to admit defeat and comes to a complete stop. Morwen tries to untangle Éowyn's content-laden mane with her fingers instead. She picks out chaff, bits of straw...and things with legs that she drops into the candle-flame. Those visitors come, get eradicated by fine-toothed combs, and take up residence again. The same for every child.
Éowyn remains serene, lost in the dreamy state of the combing-ritual. Morwen looks at her, lovingly.
After I am gone, may you stand strong, little girl, against other unpleasant intruders...of a far more dangerous kind.
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.