𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖆𝖚𝖗𝖔𝖓

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔉𝔬𝔯𝔱𝔶-𝔉𝔦𝔳𝔢

Cin gar- done eithel. Im told cin na gar- estel.

(You have done well. I told you to have faith.) 

I know. I know. 

The war has been won. We managed to defeat the Uruk-Hai sent from Isengard, but I suspect this real war is far from over. I fear Saruman will not take kindly to this. I walk around the maze of corpses. There's a foul stench of blood. But this gives the men hope and has dwindled Isengard. 

Yet... why am I unsettled? The voices in my head are not silent. They continue to speak. My thoughts are a storm. The winds keep me off balanced and my mind unsettled. I can't seem to think straight. 

Ceri- ú- worrui, i anor will mír- bo ui- -o ammen soon.

(Don't worry, the sun will shine on both of us soon).

Both of us?  

"Oh, there you are laddie." Gimli calls.

I turn to him.

"How many did you kill?" Gimli asks.

"After a long count, forty-two." I say. 

"Forty-two? Not bad for a prince of the pointy ear race." He chuckles.

I raise an eyebrow.

"I myself am sitting on forty-three." He gloats.

"Really?" I ask.

"Don't believe me?" He raises an eyebrow.

I take out an arrow and I shoot the one Gimli's sitting on.

"What'd you do that for? He's already dead." Gimli huffs. 

"Forty-three." I say.

"That doesn't count." Gimli scoffs.

"It was moving a little." I protest.

"He's moving a little because I have my axe stabbing his nerves!" Gimli yells.