Summary: Two guardians spend their holiday doing their duty… (a double drabble)

THE MOON ON THE BREAST OF THE NEW-FALLEN SNOW

Two Men stood upon a snowy hillock, overlooking the village of Scary in the Northfarthing of the Shire. The taller one nudged the dead warg with a toe.

“Too close, Halbarad,” said Aragorn. “I would we had not pursued this one into the Shire.”

Halbarad sighed. “ ‘Tis not the way I would have wished to spend Yuletide.”

Aragorn nodded. “I know of a nearby cave where we may take shelter.”

They stood a moment, breath wisping in the cold. Aragorn cocked his head. “Listen!”

Music and laughter spilled out from the candlelit windows of the village below, lending warmth to the long night.

Halbarad shook his head. “They have no idea of the peril from which we have saved them tonight.”

Aragorn looked at the scene below. “If simple folk are to be free from care and fear, simple they will be. I grudge it not.” He smiled. “Hobbits by their very nature lend joy and cheer to a world grown cold and dangerous. Somehow, I know in my heart that one day our careful watch over them will be rewarded beyond all our expectations.”

The snow began to swirl. Soon all evidence of their presence would be gone.