Post by Admin on Jan 6, 2021 18:42:17 GMT
Author: Telemachus
No Summary - just an acknowledgement of all the alphabet books there are in the world.....
Definitely G rated.
Aragorn accidentally annoyed Asfaloth.
“Bother,” bellowed the Balrog-slayer, “my bells are all bent.”
“Confound that creeping mortal,” he cursed.
“Does that Dunedain dare to defy my wrath?”
Elrond enigmatically elongated his eyebrow, and economically indicated the miscreant.
“Fly, you fool!”
Gandalf cried to the guilt-struck, as Glorfindel gleefully got sight of his prey.
“Hasten from here and hide from him.”
Indeed, the man ignobly fled.
Jumping over a giant jasmine bush, he jerked away, his legs turning to jelly.
Landing next to a lethargic Legolas, the leaper let out a plea for help.
“Mellon-nin, mislead my pursuer,” he mithered.
“Nay,” the notorious Noldor roared, “I never give up.”
“Oh no,” Oropher’s grandson ordered, “on this occasion, you are outwitted.”
Perhaps.
Quenya has not quite the words to express the quixotic loss of such a quarry as was quavering with fear so close.
Ruing his folly, Aragorn ran once more, racing for the shelter of the trees.
“Save me,” he sniffled, forgetting his Silvan, “as my Sindar protector has said.”
Threateningly the trees turned their trunks to touch one another, closing the path.
Under their uplifted boughs, the man relaxed at last.
“Visions of veiled futures and vengeance are not for me,” he ventured.
Whereupon he woke in his wonted place of rest, and was weak with relief that it was but a dream.
Xanadu could not have been more paradisiacal.
Yet from far below he heard a mighty yell.
“’Zounds, this zoo of mortals have painted my Asfaloth in stripes,” the zebra-owning Glorfindel swore.
No Summary - just an acknowledgement of all the alphabet books there are in the world.....
Definitely G rated.
Aragorn accidentally annoyed Asfaloth.
“Bother,” bellowed the Balrog-slayer, “my bells are all bent.”
“Confound that creeping mortal,” he cursed.
“Does that Dunedain dare to defy my wrath?”
Elrond enigmatically elongated his eyebrow, and economically indicated the miscreant.
“Fly, you fool!”
Gandalf cried to the guilt-struck, as Glorfindel gleefully got sight of his prey.
“Hasten from here and hide from him.”
Indeed, the man ignobly fled.
Jumping over a giant jasmine bush, he jerked away, his legs turning to jelly.
Landing next to a lethargic Legolas, the leaper let out a plea for help.
“Mellon-nin, mislead my pursuer,” he mithered.
“Nay,” the notorious Noldor roared, “I never give up.”
“Oh no,” Oropher’s grandson ordered, “on this occasion, you are outwitted.”
Perhaps.
Quenya has not quite the words to express the quixotic loss of such a quarry as was quavering with fear so close.
Ruing his folly, Aragorn ran once more, racing for the shelter of the trees.
“Save me,” he sniffled, forgetting his Silvan, “as my Sindar protector has said.”
Threateningly the trees turned their trunks to touch one another, closing the path.
Under their uplifted boughs, the man relaxed at last.
“Visions of veiled futures and vengeance are not for me,” he ventured.
Whereupon he woke in his wonted place of rest, and was weak with relief that it was but a dream.
Xanadu could not have been more paradisiacal.
Yet from far below he heard a mighty yell.
“’Zounds, this zoo of mortals have painted my Asfaloth in stripes,” the zebra-owning Glorfindel swore.