Actually, my responsibilities feel more like the avalanche of skulls that comes shortly after.
Looking at you, Aragorn.
‘It has come to me, the One Ring. It shall be an heirloom of my kingdom. All those who follow in my bloodline shall be bound to its fate for I will risk no hurt to the Ring. It is precious to me, though I buy it with great pain.’
We interrupt your regular fandom-mixing blog for an actual book-related post.
“It came to me, my own, my love… my… preciousssss.”
Good gracious, you have been productive.
Think about it. He leads a troop of Lost Boys. Doesn’t have pockets. Needs a mother.