ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔗𝔥𝔦𝔯𝔱𝔶

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"Aragorn we cannot win this war!" Legolas snaps.

"We have to." I say.

Legolas looks around. This war is rising nerves. Theoden King is making everyone carry arms. Elders who can no longer wield a bow. Elders who are sick and who have outlasted military. I would have looked like them if I wasn't who I am, what I am. Even children. Children that have never seen blood, wars, and pain. It is a hard pill to swallow. 

"They reek of fear, and they should be." Legolas says.

"We cannot let fear rule us!" I yell.

"Neled meneg dan caen meneg." Legolas snaps.

(Three thousand against ten thousand.)

I ignore him. 

"Aragorn, baw er will róv- hi dagr-!" Legolas yell.

(Aragorn, no one will survive this war!)

"Then I shall die as one of them!" I yell.

Legolas draws back. I let out a breath and turn. I walk out of the room. 

"Well... that wasn't awkward." Gimli says. 


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