Tenar pushed the shucked pods into her basket to feed the pigs later, wiped her hands on her apron, and leaned against the counter. She watched Therru at the table, nibbling at peas as if she were nothing more than a sweet little girl.
There were days like this when all of it—the Old Ones, the Ring, great Havnor, even Sparrowhawk, with his dark, scarred face and his otherwhere eyes—seemed like nothing more than a dream, as if it had happened to someone else while she lived quietly on her farm.
Then Therru raised her claw, and magic flared.
Author's Chapter Notes:
Written as part of the Multi-Fandom Drabble Meme for hhbarmaid