Falling In Love All Over Again - LOTR Legolas FanFiction

Chapter 1 Conflict after conflict

YAY!!! First chapter of TTT,  hope you enjoy. HAPPY READING!

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Chapter 1

Amira

I was in two minds.

Option one: Let's just be good friends, comrades, and after this is all over, never see each other again. The practical, no nonsense side of me said.

But you know you want more than that. A voice sniggered at me in the back of my mind.

Not very appropriate thoughts at this time. The practical side chided.

I reasonably agreed. We had been chasing after Merry and Pippin and their captors for days. Three days and nights to be exact, Gimli had reminded. We ran across the plains, jumping over moss covered rocks and skipping over streams. All simply by relying on Aragorn's ranger skills. No food. No rest.

As the hours dragged on, I was beginning to tire. I was painfully aware that Legolas looked back at me every interval, concerned. I played oblivious. It was easy enough.

With exhaustion, your head rolled around by your neck aimlessly. Easy enough to dodge the intense, pending eye contact.

I swallowed the remaining of my spit down my parched throat, and licked my lips every ten seconds.

Then suddenly, we stopped. I nearly crashed into Legolas but thankfully before making contact, I skidded to a halt and he didn't notice. Aragorn had picked up what looked like a simple leaf.

I was about to groan at him but at second glance, I realised, "Not idly to the leaves of Lorien Falls," Aragorn said in his low gravelly voice.

"They may yet be alive," said Legolas in a surprisingly husky and low voice that, irritatingly, sent shivers down my spine. I could tell he was beginning to tire as well. I slapped Aragorn's back in encouragement and he winced slightly.

Still have energy for that.

"Negative thinking gets us nowhere, we have no indication of any death so let us get a move on," I said, trying to lift their spirits with a cheerful demeanor, but my cracking voice betrayed my pessimistic doubts.

They ignored my slight slip up and nodded at each other. "Less than a day ahead of us," said Aragorn, lifting up his body, "Come!"

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We ran up a rocky patch of a hill, and stopped to see the view.

We had come to a major milestone. Rohan. Home of the horse lords. Aragorn murmured my thoughts out loud. As he stared ahead into the distance, he warned us carefully, "There is something strange at work in these lands. Some evil brings speed to these creatures. Sets its will against us," he breathed. 

Legolas ran ahead. He stood on the tip of a rock, "Legolas! What do your elf eyes see?" Aragorn shouted to him. I was slightly miffed he hadn't asked me to scout and openly showed my displeasure.

"Uruks turn northeast" Legolas stared for a moment longer before continuing to shout, "They are taking the hobbits to Isengard!"

"Saruman," said Aragorn, his voice holding the very dread I felt.

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The world is changing. Who now has the strength to stand against the armies of Isengard... and Mordor. To stand against the might of Sauron and Saruman... and the union of the two towers.

Together my Lord Sauron... we shall rule this, Middle Earth.

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Edoras-

The small band of knights and horses thundered into the village on its way to the castle.

Eowyn, the White Lady of Rohan dressed in a garment of black and gold, dashed into the room. "Theodred," she sat down heavily next to her severely wounded prince of a cousin, brushing his temple, she glanced over at her brother who simply inhaled heavily and looked back at her, unable to mask his worry. She quickly pulled back a fold of Theodred's clothing and immediately shut her eyes.

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"Your son is badly wounded my lord," Eowyn said softly. "He was ambushed. By orcs," Eomer said gruffly, untying the soothing tone of Eowyn's doing.

But King Theoden remained, frozen, eyes glazed, emotionless. "If we don't defend our country. Saruman will take it by force," Eomer continued on strongly in defiance.

A sharp voice spoke up, "That is a lie."

A pathetic excuse for a man appeared, his oddly pale skin and eyes mixed with his short haggard appearance and slimy looking black hair made him decidedly unattractive. Grima Wormtongue.

The suspicious gangle creature was the kings trusted advisor. However, he was lacking in the trust of his masters heirs.  

He continued and the siblings shared a look of distaste, "Saruman the White has ever been our friend and ally." Grima bent down toward the king and the once honourable man merely muttered incomprehensible words into his adviser's ever-sharp ears.

Eomer pleaded his case firmly, "Orcs are roaming freely across our lands. Unchecked, unchallenged, killing at will." Grima looked up at him.

"Orcs carrying the White Hand of Saruman," and with that he dropped a metal helmet at their feet. A white paint splattered on the helmet. A white hand.

For a moment a panicked look glazed over his eyes, but the man continued evasively, his voice empathetic, "Why do you lay theses troubles on an already troubled mind?" He looked carefully at the king, "Can you not see? Your uncle is wearied by your... malcontent. Your warmongering," he added slyly.

"Warmongering?" Eomer glared at him in a fury of disbelief and pulled him by his robe, slamming him against the pillar. "How long has it been since Saruman bought you? What was the promised price Grima?" The short, distasteful man struggled and writhed in his grasp.

Eomer continued relentlessly, "When all the men are dead you will take your share of the treasure?" Grima's face froze and his eyes darted behind Eomer, who turned to look.

And who turned back, unfortunately for Grima, his eyes gleaming dangerously. He pushed him further against the wall, angered, "Too long have you watched my sister. Too long have you haunted her steps."

Grima's eyes darted behind him again, then he spoke confidently, harshly, "You see much Eomer son of Eomund."

Eomer looked at him, a little confused but with an even sharper glare. Then two hands fell heavily on his shoulders, "Too much." Grima finished with much venom, satisfied.

The two hands pulled him back sharply, away from Grima, but Eomer didn't even glance behind him, his steely gaze firmly fixed on Grima, "You are banished forthwith from the Kingdom of Rohan. Under pain of death," as he finished speaking, Eomer's struggling body earned a punch to the abdomen.

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WHEEEE! Are you happy to hear from me? Hoped you liked it ;)

xoxo, B