So Far Away ✔

016

. . .

THORIN

. . .

Elladan's words kept racing through his head. Even though the days were passing, they did not fade. Something had changed between Elladan and Scar. They still barely talked, but they both stayed closer while they had always tried to stay away from each other. Thorin saw how often his friend's eyes wandered off to Scar — perhaps even more frequently than his own eyes. By now, Thorin had gotten used to her presence and although he still hold a strange interest in her, he mainly wanted to know what had happened during her captivity.

They rode past various villages where they supplemented their food supplies. The distances between the inhabited lands of Middle Earth started to grow, their surroundings becoming more rugged and inhospitable. To their right were still the rough mountains of the Hithaeglir, or the Misty Mountains as Thorin knew them. In the distance rose the impending tops of the Mountains of Angmar, where they would eventually reach the old fortress of Carn Dûm, the place where the witch king Angmar had gathered his troops to attack the people in the lands around. It wasn't far from Gundabad, where the first dwarf had came to life. A place that always had been sacred to his people, but which hadn't been visited by dwarfs in centuries. Already at the beginning of the Second Age, the place had been taken by orcs and other dark creatures which had dishonored their sacred halls. Was that the place where they had taken his father, the heir of Durin the Deathless, to? The thought was suffocating him. He could only think of horrible things that were happening to him and Thorin had the feeling they were traveling slowly, as if dark wizards were watching them from behind dried out trees, whispering malicious spells.

Dust swirled up, every time his pony placed his hooves on the ground. Thorin's mouth felt dry and drinking from his canteen didn't make things better. The despondency grew heavier with every moment that passed. His companions didn't speak; lost in thoughts they stared at the ruins they passed; piles of rock reminding them of a once bustling city. Did they have memories of these abandoned villages and cities? Had they been here before, when Death hadn't claimed these lands, when the meadows had been filled with colorful flowers while the shouting of merchants was audible from afar?

He thought of his own homeland which knew the same history. It was an empty place now, the laughter of children dispelled by the muses of the dead. Was this the essence of life? Its perishability? Would there be a day when Imladris would turn to ashes too, when the strong elves would turn to dust so nature could reclaim its terrain? It made him feel sad, as if their journey was pointless because they wouldn't be able to do something about the next horror. The darkness seemed to be unstoppable. One could only resist it for a short period of time; creating a little bit of respite before another wave of violence came of the lands, dragging along innocent souls in its evil.

~

"I have a bad feeling about this place."

Thorin looked to the side. The concern reflecting in his friend's eyes, might just have been that of his own. With a sigh Thorin agreed with Elladan's words. Gloomy, he stared at the ruins rising above he waves of mist.

"We have to trust her."

Scar had wanted to explore the area while they waited for her. Thorin however had the feeling that dark shadows were creeping closer. Ghosts to whom his sword was useless.

"That is still anything but easy."

On a sinister place like this it wasn't hard to be dragged along with Elladan's suspicion. On the other hand this seemed to be the perfect place to hold someone captive. Was his father being held in one of the many ruins? Would he feel his father's presence when he was near?