Clothes for the King

Soon, the king of Gondor shall praise the clothes he wears to bed.

All is well underneath the sun, should I find a shelter for shade I shall, but more comfort in the heat is unbeatable. Without more violence there comes a station of downward revenue which comes from the times of our old age. Satisfied and thoughtful, Aragorn returned to the station, and brought about him a serial dresser of clothes and attire. No armor was placed in the store, as Aragorn was looking for clothes to aid him in comfort and not war. “Come here, dear lady,” said Aragorn, pointing toward the finishing aid of the store. The aid was of tall nature, and, once more, was a woman of finer qualities than the remains of tiresome direction.

“What is the aid you need, lord?” said the aid. Her name was not known to Aragorn, and he asked, saying, “I'm looking for clothes for sleeping, that I might be able to sleep beside that which is this life.”

“Come this way,” said the woman, and, as she concluded her words, she led Aragorn to the manly attire of the store, which was stuffed with great clothes not found in Middle-Earth. “Here we have ourselves the sleeping wear you might be looking for in all Middle-Earth. Though none say such things anymore, why would you need clothes to sleep in?”

“That answer shall be subsided alongside the question,” replied Aragorn.

“Oh,” she exclaimed. “I see, that's what matters anyway, soon you shall pay and I will be on my way,” the woman bowed, and left Aragorn to search through the clothes laid out and about in order and fashionable stretch of grand apprentice.

“And here I believed I was a fish,” said Aragorn in conclusion.    

Author's Note

Such a short chapter; none care that I feel depressed.