Disclaimer: Tolkien made Middle-earth - Kortirion made this drabble
He’d long ago made himself proof against all - the vicissitudes of travel; his boots, though dirty, were well-kept; his breeches, close-woven twill, as were his hose and shirts; his coat, softened leather, frequently splattered thigh-high with mud, but what did a little dirt matter? He was protected, from cold, wet, and attack. Thorn-proof, water-proof, and though not proof from weaponry, he did not believe himself vulnerable.
This assault was sudden and unexpected. Unarmed in Imladris, unprotected... apart from a book in his hands - their eyes sparred, locked, penetrated... desire’s thorn pierced him through... something he found no proof against.