°•*⁀➷ 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐑𝐎𝐊𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃𝐒#🏹🌋⚔️
-', ༄ ❪ 𝙻𝙴𝙶𝙾𝙻𝙰𝚂 𝙶𝚁𝙴𝙴𝙽𝙻𝙴𝙰𝙵 ❫
﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌ ﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌
𝗶𝗻 𝘄𝗵𝗶𝗰𝗵 ━ gyda carries a legacy she
might not be able to bear ✧ ೃ༄*ੈ✩
❝ 𝙢𝙮 𝙢𝙤𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙧 𝙬𝙖𝙨 𝙖 𝙜𝙚𝙣𝙞�...
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═════════ ☆•° °•☆ ═════════ CHILDREN OF ARDA DUOLOGY⋆ ☄. ♯ ❝ I PROMISED ❞ CHAPTER THIRTY ✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* ˚ ₊ ♡ the third age ─── year 3019 ▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅▅
*✧ ─── GYDA WAKES WITH A WEARY HEART. IT BEATS CALMLY BENEATH HER SKIN, AND YET IT FEELS AS IF IT WILL burst any second. She cannot quite place the feeling nor its deposition as she stands on the shores of the water, staring at the woodland across the river. Well within the forest something stirs, something her eyes cannot see nor her ears hear.
Subconsciously she clutches her sword tighter, the skin of her knuckles turning white. "Gyda?"
She turns her head and finds Elgarain standing behind her. The High-Queen watches her with knowing eyes. "What is it?"
Gyda bites the inside of her cheek, "I do not know." Is the only answer she can give.
"Come join the others," Elgarain urges her, reaching out with a cold hand to pull her away.
Gyda follows without complaint, but still casts one last worried look over her shoulder at the shadowy forest behind her.
The Fellowship sits gathered, mulling by the small fire Sam had made that morning, basking in the little bit of warmth it offers. There is a certain gloom that is shrouded over their Company like a veil of shadows. It is as if the last light that had been draped over them in Lorién had vanished completely.
The rocks crunch beneath their feet as they join the others and Gyda only glances at Legolas as the Ellon comes to stand next to her. She juts out her chin as Aragorn moves, straightening his back to address the others. "We cross the lake at nightfall." He announces. "We approach Mordor from the North."
A shudder runs through her body and she clenches her hands into fists at her side, she can almost taste the smoke on her tongue, hear the screams of dying elves and men. But she inhales sharply, shakes away the painful memories with renewed vigor. This time it will be different she promises herself silently. This time no one shall die.
It's wishful thinking perhaps. But for now it lights a fire in her.
"Oh, yes?" She is brought back into the conversation as Gimli speaks, "Just a simple matter of finding our way through Emyn Muil an impassable labyrinth of razor-sharp rocks." His voice rises in volume, "And after that, it gets even better. Festering, stinking marshland as far as the eye can see."
