𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖆𝖚𝖗𝖔𝖓

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔉𝔬𝔲𝔯

"Aragorn, the sun setting is red, blood has been spilled today." I look at him.

"Something is not right." He says.

"Look!" Gimli points.

"Riders of Rohan! What news from the west?!" Aragorn yells.

Why are there so many? They should be guarding Rohan. I hear the cry of orcs destroying their cities one by one. I feel the air around them thicken. There were thousands of them I watch them change course. I watch them run towards us. I grip my bow. I feel them unsettled. I feel a wave of nerves washed over them. Soon we're surrounded by men that smell like old age. Men who smell foul. Men who look tired and unrested. The general rides forward.

"What business would an elf and a dwarf and a man have within these fields?" He hissed. 

"If you give me your name, I shall give you mine." Gimli says.

The general jumps down.

"If your head stood an ich hire I wouldn't hesitate to cut it off." He hisses.

"You will die before you get the chance." I hiss pointing my bow at him. 

All spears were drawn to me. Not like I care. Aragorn looks at me. He points my bow down.

"I am Aragorn son of Arathorn. This is Gimli son of Gloin and Legolas son of the woodland realm." Aragorn says.

The spears lift. The general lets out a breath. 

"We are friends of Rohan." Aragorn says.

Maybe not friends to them.

"The king neither recognizes friend or foe. Not even his own soldiers and nephew." He says.

"A band of orcs would have passed through your way. They were carrying friends of ours, though they look like children to your eyes." Aragorn says.

"We passed through the orcs however we left none alive." The general sighs. 

I let out a breath. They can't be dead, can they? Another man arrives with horses.

"We piled the bodies up there." He points to the fire.

I grab the white horse's reins. I turn to Gimli, and I help him up. 

"I got it Legolas!" He yells.

"I'm sure you do." I roll my eyes.

"Our paths would likely meet again." The general says.

I nod at him.