Editing It is after the ring war
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He did not dream so badly very often but in his mind, he did so more than enough. At least he had not dreamt of the nazgul this time, he thought shuddering, and tried to bite back the sob of despair that rose in his throat. | He did not dream so badly very often but in his mind, he did so more than enough. At least he had not dreamt of the nazgul this time, he thought shuddering, and tried to bite back the sob of despair that rose in his throat. | ||
− | Don’t think about it, he repeated to himself. Don’t think about it. And yet he | + | Don’t think about it, he repeated to himself. Don’t think about it. And yet he couoldn’t help but think… of the horn call that his brother had sounded, and how scared he had been on hearing that, and how old his father had suddenly seemed. And then that ethereal sight of the boat as it had floated silently downriver, the vivid flashing memory of that last battle on the Pelennor, and the pain that he still felt on his shoulder every now and then, and then, worst of all the mangled memories of the warmth of flames against his aching, shivering body. |
All of the memories flooded back into him again, and he cried out softly. | All of the memories flooded back into him again, and he cried out softly. |