Flashes of Fancy by heget

certain tithes are dues

Prompt: star, martyr, box, sunset

Ingwë is a cat person.

“Oh, sad martyr. You shall starve - but proclaim your brave sacrifice for all to hear and lament in heart-wrenchingly lovely song, for your king has forsaken you. The stars shine upon your noble torment.”

“Father...are you addressing your cat?” Ingwion entered the monastery with a box of tax receipts bound in a wide array of colors, blues and teals for Valmar and sunset oranges for the farmlands to the south, with white ribbons around the scrolls for schools and other royal properties allotted to public works.

Guiltily, the High King of All Elves looked up from the floor.