𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖆𝖚𝖗𝖔𝖓

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔉𝔦𝔣𝔱𝔶-𝔗𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢

The celebration. Yet, I feel no comfort in the cheers of the men. The singing of Mary and Pipin barely dent my ears. I feel only worry. I feel only fear. I can't focus on the happiness emanating in the room. My mind goes to him. What is he? Who is he? What did Saruman mean?

"Equal portions." Eomer says handing me one.

"So... it's a drinking game?" I ask.

"Last one standing wins." Gimli roars.

"No cheating." Eomer says.

"And no regurgitation." Gimli chuckles.

He starts chugging. I'm hesitant. Elves don't consume this stuff. What even is this stuff? Eomer looks at me. I slowly taste it. Well...it's edible. I don't understand why men like this stuff. A dwarf... sure. But an elf? I really think not.

<0>~~~<0>~~~<0>

I give a glass to Aragorn. He's everything I hope to be. Strong. Honorable. So courageous. He shines brighter than the sun. As he turns, my eyes follow him. I can't stop starring at him. Uncle Theoden turns to me.

"I'm happy for you." He smiles.

I let a small smile tip past me. 

"He's an honorable man." He says.

"You are both honorable." I say.

"Him more than me." His voice darkens.

I turn. I see the young elf prince leaving. I see a shadow next to him. A figure of some creature. What is that thing? I follow him. Is he alright? Something is stirring. I have to see where he's going.