kormacleod

[kormacleod]

A short story I wrote a number of years ago!

I sit herein this merry tavern flagon of ale in my hand and a plate of salted pork on my table.

but I have not a care for any of it. I sit as if I am a dull wit slack jawed and dreamy eyed.

My mind wrought with restlessness. A kings man I may be and a sword and hammer do I swing in his name.

but as of late I find my heart only half in my art. every fall of my hammer upon steel and every swing of my sword

is lackluster. for even in my wakefull dreams I see her. firey hair like the coals of a well stoked forge.

eyes that shine like the setting sun. And a smile that brightens a room like a just opened chest full of gold.

never before have I been so bewitched. and to top it off its a dwarf that has stolen my heart and now hordes it away

like a ingot begotten of the mines of moria. be damned this merriement all around me it makes my thoughts waver when

all I want to see in my mind is her. I am not sure when hobbits started leaving the shire but there is an entire table

of them next to me singing and laughing about some green dragon. what nonesense. come to think of it I have not seen

this tavern so lively in many a year. folk of these parts tend to not create fellowships among themselves if they dont have to.

ahh bags! where was I? Ahh my fair dwarven maiden I know not her name but her hearty laugh filled my heart with joy.

What I wouldnt give for her to pledge her ax to my aid. It was rare enough to see a dwarf in these parts let alone one of such

beauty and standing. I have no doubt I would have to slay 100 orks to even turn her eye. I would do it I tell you. I would climb to

the hights of MT. Doom or brave a journey through the ENT filled forests If it meant a chance to hold that firey main to my chest

and hear the rythmic sounds of her snoring...oh come on everybody knows dwarves snore....I am sure that coming from her it would

sound sweeter than the minstrel whom sits in this very tavern playing a happy tune upom her harp and winning the hearts of the drunkards.

I can not help but think this ale would be sweeter and this pork more tender with a fine maiden such as her on my arm.....whats this> screaming and

terror in the streets...hhmmm enough daydreaming for now....thats strange the hobbits are hiding under the table...I wonder why.