Doom hung thick in the air. Like a dark mist it wrapped itself around each member of the company, and like a fell wind it whispered over the craggy foothills.
But there was also hope. Though the doom attempted to choke it with its dark grip, its fire would not be quenched entirely.
It was that sliver of hope that Gerithor held on to, for he had seen it in his vision. And at this point, it was all he had left. He knew that his visions could no longer entirely be trusted... But he also knew that this one had been different. That elven warrior... Or king... Whatever he had been, had given him advice that seemed sound. But how? He supposed that he wouldn't know until he met whoever the mysterious warrior was.
Caledorn limped along resolutely, and Taliel stood beside him to offer support when the need arose. Both elves were battered and bruised from the battle, but they managed to find strength in their newfound friendship and the fellowship of their company.
The group was more of an army now. Two hundred of Elrond's warriors had joined them, and the entire dwarven force was eager to continue the quest as well.
"I'll be happy to see mountains again lad!" Gloin exclaimed to Kalan as he thumped him heartily on the back. "Perhaps we can even pass through Moria!"
"Nay, Gloin of Erebor," Glorfindel replied. "Dark things dwell there now. The Redhorn Pass is much safer, though even it is not without its share of peril."
Kalan nodded. "Aye, no word has come forth from Moria in years. In my merchant days I was warned by my kinsmen to stay away."
Gerithor, who was ahead a slight distance, still managed to overhear the conversation and voiced his own opinion grimly. "Our path will not be safe regardless. The enemy is moving, and their servants are everywhere. Whether through ancient mines or snow-blown passes, we will still be in danger no matter where we go."
"Well, aren't you cheerful!" Edhael replied with a laugh. "Chin up Ranger, surely the worst is behind us now."
Gerithor shook his head slowly and looked to the path ahead. Caradhras stood tall in front of them, like a great sentinel blocking their passage. But unlike previous times Gerithor had traversed the pass, no clouds hung over the massive mountain. A clear sky was above, almost welcoming the company forward. The young ranger allowed a slight smile to play across his scarred face as the sun's bright light peered out from behind the mountain.
Perhaps the worst truly is behind us, the ranger thought as he felt determination flow through his veins for the first time in weeks.
He shouldered the pack that he carried and continued forward, every step leading him closer to the end of his journey... And whatever awaited him there.
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And so it was that the first trial of Gerithor Lastborn's quest was completed. All were affected by the destruction and war that Sauron's armies wrought. It was a grim time, one of sorrow and loss. But Varonwe(As my kin call him) stood strong through each and every challenge and remained resolute in his purpose. He carried on, though the path remained treacherous and seemingly infinite darkness awaited him. And his companions followed, loyal to their captain despite the overwhelming odds.
But alas, it is here that I must leave you for now, for I must finish my quest as well. Until next we meet, may the Valar watch over your steps and protect you from the evils of this world, for they are many and the night is yet long.
E.L.
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Defenders of Middle Earth: A Middle Earth Story(Book 3)
FanficGerithor, a Dunedain ranger, has been a guardian of the West for many years, protecting it and keeping watch over the Shire. But when he receives word that his fellow Dunedain were attacked at Sarn Ford by Nine Riders, he hastens to Rivendell, where...