Ashes ⇝Legolas

†24†

CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
VICTORY

Torch light. A tingling flame, a sea of deadly orange waves swallowing the darkness yet the freedom they held equaled none, for it would be quite dangerous to set such beast free.

In a separate armoury, a tiny stone room tingling with faint orange light Nesryn and Aragorn prepared for the possibly last night of their lives. Nesryn strapped a piece of armour over the wound on her left arm that had by now dried of blood, lacking ounce of care for the wave of pain that it sent. Other than flimsy coverages for her limbs, no armour was small enough to fit the constitution of her being nor was the chain mail she had just turned over made for such a warrior, no less a woman.

In the end, she threw the heavy chain mail away, rattling of its iron chains against the surface of a wooden structure alerting her and settled for a simplest solution possible- no armour. Just her usual attire consisting of a blue tunic, leather and of course armour protecting her arms.

Looking over the presented armour she surely made no intention of wearing, Nesryn sadly yet with determination tingling in her eyes grabbed the only golden dagger she had left. She simply hoped she would get to use it, for the reappearance of her powers truly bothered her to the point of not being afraid of the enemy but herself. She could see the tingles of fire on her hands, in ready to take full advantage of the fear freezing her heart and see the control slip from her fingers- Nesryn despised the powers with her whole being.

Faint footfalls alerted her, only to spot Legolas who had given Aragorn a sword, realisation on his features. "We have trusted you this far and you have not led us astray. Forgive me, I was wrong to despair." The Elf apologised.

"Ú-moe edamed." There is nothing to forgive. Aragorn stated in answer, clasping his friend's shoulders as Legolas did the same, no longer a fight brewing between them. Nesryn nodded, nevertheless features remained as still as a stone not even daring a change in them.

Just as she briefly began changing her still expression, Gimli came stumbling in, the chain mail around his chest rolled up tightly. "If we had time, I'd get this adjusted," The Dwarf tugged the chain mail a bit, causing it to loosen and fall to the ground with soundly clank. Gimli looked absolutely annoyed. "It's a little tight across the chest."

Nesryn let the corners of her mouth quirk up just for a brief moment, a puff of air leaving her nose rimmed with laughter that made Gimli livid, about to start an arguement with the three of his companions. And he certainly would have if it weren't for a horn bellowing in the distance, alerting Nesryn- she recognised it immediately. It was the horn of Lorien.

Nesryn stilled, her head falling to look at the ground. The wafting sound of Elven horn alerted her companions, all three quickly rushed outside yet she stayed behind, for the way she had treated their hosts just on the beginning to their journey surely owed her no right to ever accept the selfless gift such as her companions could.

She took her quiver, fingers deftly jumping over white feathery ends as she counted the contents over and over again, her mind loosing in the thoughts that plagued it.

"Fourty, all together." A voice came, immediately Nesryn lifted up her head to find Nashton standing there certainly, in full armour white and silver in color. The man walked forward and placing one hand to Nesryn's shoulder, took a golden, gleaming blade out of his belt. "King Théoden forbade me from giving this to you, yet your property is yours only. I could not remain still otherwise." Nesryn quickly and without a single word accepted the blade, turning over its bloodied handle after the last fight she thought she had lost it in, the jewels embedded in its golden shape aside the magnificent shine they previously held dimmed of it, for the dried blood glazed them over.