Speak Again

fanfiction by Wild Iris

Preparation

The little prince of Ithilien turns slowly under the laden pines. He has long known that creatures called Orcs broke that trunk now splinted with a metal band. Since the afternoon, wandering among the ropes and ladders, he also knows that the bronze lanterns spaced along the branches are the work of Elves, and that the gilded balls and jewel-stuck comets are the work of Dwarves. Which, contemplated, prompts him to spread his sticky hands wide and ask – "What did we do?"

And his mother, breath catching and laughing at once, pulls him back into the lights of her golden hair.