Disclaimer: Tolkien’s world and all that dwells in it.
Summer heat... the air thick under clouds that held the oppressive warmth close as a lover. Aragorn wiped his face with one hand, drying slick fingers on his thigh. He felt the sweat trickling slowly down his chest as he toiled onwards... ‘Soon, soon...’
Thirst-quenching ale filled his thoughts... what to order? Barliman’s Special? Or perhaps, Golden Tom?
Nob pumped water into a large pitcher as the sweat-stained ranger approached and stood staring at the crisp, clear water. Nervously, he offered it to the dust-caked man... then laughed aloud when instead of drinking – Aragorn empted the lot over his head!