These characters all belong to the estate of J.R.R. Tolkien. This story was written for pleasure and not for financial gain
I dream of her often, how I imagined our reunion would be, her loving embrace, her joyous laughter.
Now it can never be. I shall not see my mother until the ending of the world. I have made my choice.
My son starts to cry. I take him from his cradle and put him to my breast. He suckles contentedly. The love I feel for him is overwhelming. I understand now the truly wondrous depths of a mother’s love.
Aragorn awakes beside me. He smiles at me, his eyes filled with adoration.
I have chosen rightly. My mother will understand.
And she brought forth her firstborn son, and wrapped him in swaddling clothes, and laid him in a manger; because there was no room for them in the inn. Luke 2.7
I hope you have enjoyed these drabbles during Advent. Wishing all my readers a blessed Christmas season.