My first attempt at a dribble.
AUTHOR'S NOTE:This was written for hobbit_ficathon on LJ. I had to incorporate the following elements:
the number five
THE LAST OF THE NINE REMEMBER
The two elderly hobbits stood in front of the hearth
drawing the welcome warmth into cold and aging bones,
the fire dispelling the chill of white stone.
A door opens, and a king enters,
quietly placing a comforting hand on
curly heads shot with grey.
Dwarf, Elf, enter now,
joining the others.