Veiled Stars » LotR [1] ✔️

Chapter Eight: The Nazgul Cometh

The rain continued to pour.

The group of seven raced through the darkness, Aragorn leading in the front.

He risked a quick glance over his shoulder, stormy eyes going over the four struggling hobbits and then over to Legolas, who could easily outstrip all of them yet still stayed in the back, a hand gripping firmly around the curve of his bow.

Aragorn's eyes hardened slightly as they landed on Elle, who raced along the other side of the hobbits. She was clearly hiding the pain in her shoulder, but even Aragorn could read her terror as she distanced herself as far as she could from Frodo.

Another screech sounded somewhere in the distance and alarm spiked higher in the air. 

After the seven had fled, the Nazgul had quickly realized their prey had escaped. They had been on the group's trail for hours and Aragorn had no idea how long it would be before they were all run down.

Sooner or later though, he knew that much for certain. They were not going to be able to outrun the wraiths.

The ring was calling to them.

Even Aragorn could feel its darkness, reeking like a wave of death.

He ran faster, despite knowing that sooner or later, the hobbits wouldn't be able to go any further.

Legolas's earlier behavior troubled Aragorn; the terror that had washed across his friend's face kept resurfacing in Aragorn's mind, no matter how hard he tried to push it away.

It was not often that Aragorn had ever seen Legolas with anything but with a facade of steel, he was like the breath before the storm; calm and quiet but also deadly.

And the fear he had shown to the sound of the Nazgul unnerved Aragorn more than he would admit.

Elle raced up to Aragorn's side, her breaths coming out in pants. "Where are we headed?"

Aragorn locked his eyes ahead. "Weathertop."

Elle's eyes widened and she choked. "But that'll take days! We'll be rundown in hours, maybe a day at longest if we're even lucky!"

Aragorn didn't answer. He knew her words were true, but he didn't know what else he could possibly do.

Not for the first time, Aragorn wished that Gandalf had never sent him on the quest to retrieve the hobbit. He wished the wizard had shown up, he wished the Nazgul had never made their way to Bree.

Aragorn wished that nothing from the past few months had ever even happened. That he and Legolas were still own their own, without the troubles of the cursed ring.

And Elle.

Aragorn had lived his whole life trying to forget about his past and his future. He felt as though the weight of the world was crashing down upon his shoulders and he was not strong enough the stay standing.

So he ran, from the past and from the future.

He had run as fast as he could.

But despite his efforts, she had shown up, claiming to be the daughter of a mother that Aragorn had long since done everything he could to forget.

A mother that for the longest time, Aragorn believed had abandoned him. 

He had spent his childhood wondering what he has possibly done wrong, how she could so easily leave her only son to the darkness of the world.

Aragorn had fought Elrond with everything he had to avoid Elle coming with him and Legolas to Bree. 

But the elven lord had refused to budge, insisting only it would help the two get to know each other.