𝕿𝖍𝖊 𝕱𝖔𝖗𝖒 𝖔𝖋 𝕾𝖆𝖚𝖗𝖔𝖓

ℭ𝔥𝔞𝔭𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔖𝔦𝔵𝔱𝔶-𝔗𝔥𝔯𝔢𝔢

This camp... why has Theoden King chosen it? The air is... restless. It smells like corpses, and it feels thicker than blood. I mount of my horse. The horses... they're restless. They're unsettled. Something is scaring them. Something is wrong here.

"What's going on?" I ask Eomer. 

"This place makes the horses unsettled. They say it's cursed. In there, most specifically." Eomer points.

I turn. A dark canyon. There were voices. I can hear soft whispers. Soft screaming. Then, a shadow of a figure. A glowing green skull. I can hear it saying my name looking at me. It's eyes narrow. I turn. It's just a frightful illusion. Must be the nerves. 

"What goes on in the darkness?" I mutter.

I turn. Legolas gets off his horse and helps Gimli off. He knows the truth now. He knows that thing was Saruman. I do not pretend like I know what he's thinking. Though, I'm guessing he thinks everything is his fault. I walk toward him.

"We should talk." I say.

"There is no need. I know what you would say anyway." He turns. 

"Legolas, it wasn't your fault." I say. 

"Keep filling that lie in your head." He sighs as he walks off.