❝you cannot be serious, you'll kill us all!❞
❝hey I never said it was a good idea!❞
────── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ.
𝙄𝙣 𝙬𝙝𝙞𝙘𝙝,
The faerie princess finds herself on a mission to save middle-earth with the most unlikely group.
❴ Fellowship of the Ri...
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AS THE Edoras' citizens journeyed across the plains, I awed at their resilience. Despite the looming threat of war, they were able to stay determined, and create a fellowship amongst them.
Gimli, perched atop his horse, told us with tales of dwarf folklore. "It's true you don't see many dwarf women," he declared with a hearty laugh. "And in fact, they're so alike in voice and appearance that they're often mistaken for dwarf men."
Eowyn, holding the reins of Gimli's horse, joined in the conversation. She glanced back at Aragorn, who rode a short distance behind, a playful twinkle in her eye.
Aragorn leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper. "It's the beards," he added with a mischievous grin, gesturing toward his own scruffy chin.
Eowyn stifled a laugh, shooting him a playful glare before turning her attention back to Gimli.
"And this has given rise to the belief that there are no dwarf women," Gimli continued, "and that dwarves just spring out of holes in the ground! Which is, of course, ridiculous..."
"Huh, and here I thought they really simply just sprouted from the ground. Could've fooled me," I quipped, flashing Gimli a teasing grin from atop my own horse.
Before Gimli could continue, his horse suddenly bolted forward, catching Eowyn off guard. With a yelp, she lost her grip on the reins, watching helplessly as the horse galloped away.
I couldn't stifle a laugh at the sight of the dwarf tumbling to the ground. "Looks like someone needs a bit more practice in the saddle," I joked.
Gimli, now sprawled on the ground, tried to save face. "Alright! Alright, nobody panic," he declared. "It was deliberate, it was deliberate."
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Up ahead, I caught sight of Legolas standing atop a hill, a sense of urgency apparent in his posture. I urged my horse forward, a smile tugging at the corners of my lips. As I approached him, however, I noticed a furrow of concern marring his usually serene expression.
"What's wrong, my love?" I inquired, my brow furrowing in confusion.
Legolas turned to me, his gaze troubled. "There's a shift in the wind. Something feels amiss," he replied, his voice tinged with unease.
A shiver ran down my spine at his words. Suddenly, a warg of Isengard thundered towards us. Hama, knocked from his horse, was helplessly tossed aside by the monstrous beast.
My hands flew to my mouth in shock, my horse beginning to panic. "Woah, calm!" I pleaded desperately, trying to regain control.
But there was no time for reassurance. Legolas sprinted down the hillside, his graceful form a blur of motion against the backdrop of chaos.
