Pub Rats by Lferion

Pub Rats

There were piebald tunnel-rats on the menu. Literally on the menu, three of them dashing across the top board, racing and playing. They were sleek and bright-eyed, with long, mobile whiskers. Celegorm watched them enjoying themselves for awhile before looking down at the neat lettering listing the cook-shop's regular fare. More rats were on the menu itself: cheerful images frolicking in the margins. An actual yellow rock-slither slept in the lower corner. Celegorm laughed. He was in Barad Eithel, after all, home to Fingon's Menagerie. Why shouldn't the townsfolk be part of that, if they wanted and the animals agreed?

Celegorm remembered fondly the various tunnel-rats (pied and otherwise) of his acquaintance in Beleriand the first time around. They had gotten him out of trouble on numerous occasions. As had more than one rock-slither. Some of those adventures had been more ridiculous than dangerous, too many had been perilous, terrifying, or both. With Morgoth and Gorthaur consigned to oblivion, that particular terror and danger was unlikely, both for him and the small creatures who had served as willing eyes and able informants. These, happy and well cared-for, need never face that, for all Beleriand Risen was still perilous as well as fair.