Honestly, it's been so long since I've written anything LoTR that I'm positive there are some inaccuracies in here. But I was feeling nostalgic and I'm trying to get my creative juices flowing for another project I'm working on, so forgive me if it's a little rough. Here we go!
She was awakened by the pain.
It reached her slowly – a dull ache that pierced her slumber and drew her closer to consciousness until it was no longer a faint throbbing in her bones, but sharp and agonizing. She could feel it winding down her neck to her spine, into each of her toes and fingers, bringing clarity as it went.
Her neck was bent at an odd angle and she realized that she was laying on her side, curled into herself, her arms tangled around her knees. She shifted her head back with a groan, her muscles resisting the movement before giving in to relief.
She cautiously unraveled her arms and stretched her legs out, her movements halting and her limbs shaking. Whether it was from disuse, pain, or the cold fear that was beginning to settle deep within her chest she did not know.
Her ribs – they hurt the most. Closely followed by her left ankle. And her eyes...why couldn't she open her eyes?
She reached trembling hands up to her face, tracing from chin to cheek; the normally smooth skin was rough with debris and scratches. And as her fingertips, slow in their trepidation, slid up to her brow the skin began to rise and harden, becoming tender to the touch. Her eyes were swollen, from brows to cheek bones, and sealed shut by a residue that was thick and sticky to the touch. With light hands, she rubbed at the substance. It curled and lifted beneath her fingertips, as if it were warm wax, and she continued for several minutes until she had removed it all.
She attempted to separate her eyelids, at first the usual way – by simply opening them. When the lids remained tightly closed, she began to pull at the bruised skin, her breathing coming in heavier as anxiety mounted within her.
Useless.
She couldn't see.
The fear she had felt niggling in the back of her mind – it had waited patiently for her to get her bearings, until she could fully grasp her dire circumstances, but it would wait no more. It took her over, dropping her heart into her stomach and closing her throat until air was scarce and colors burst behind her closed lids.
Her hands fell away from her face and she felt the liquid heat of frustrated tears welling up in her eyes. They trickled from the corners and spread into several channels, causing her to wince as they spread over the fresh cuts scattered across her features.
She had to focus. She had to figure this out.
Taking a shaky breath, she pulled the sleeve of her dress over her wrist and gingerly wiped at her eyes. The skin had become slick and irritated, and it burned a bit in the breeze.
Where am I?
Grass – she had noticed it tickling her skin, a sensation she ignored previously but now used as an anchor to reality. She brought her hands from her face and to the ground – it was cool and crackled beneath her touch. Leaves – fallen to the ground and transformed by the autumn chill.
She swept up handfuls of them and crushed them in her hands, over and over, as she cast out her senses out like a net.
She was cold, she realized. The dampness of the earth had soaked through her dress.
Why was she outside?
A fierce wind blew, whistling through the trees and leaving a trail of goosebumps across her skin in its wake. She briefly considered rolling herself back up in defense, but ruled against it out of pity for her cramping muscles.
Why was she on the ground?
She'd been traveling to Laketown on her brother's request. His wife, Annea, was pregnant and due this month. He had thought she would enjoy the company, as in Annea's current status she was frequently indisposed to public outings, and would appreciate any help she could receive upon the baby's arrival.
She had agreed, happy at the thought of seeing Kaernen again, and thrilled to leave Rohan and her father's control- if only for a little while.
And that had turned out well...
Her hands continued their work against the surrounding leaves, relaxing and contracting, silence followed by a crunch and snap.
A tree behind her creaked and her hands ceased, body frozen as she listened.
It wasn't unusual that trees made noises, she knew, but she'd heard nothing like it thus far. It made her feel vulnerable, made her wonder why she hadn't yet sought shelter or safety.
Before the panic could possess her again, she forced herself into action.
Gritting her teeth against the pain, she flipped from her backside onto her hands and knees, body screaming in protest. Without sight, the movement made her dizzy, as if she were a child again, spinning in circles with a blindfold wrapped around her head.
She shuffled forward, though the direction had no meaning in the blackness that was her world. She held one hand up, swinging like a pendulum in the air before her, seeking out any potential obstacles. Her progress was clumsy as it was loud – she stumbled often and more than once fell the ground with a crash.
Her paranoia continued to grow, though, for despite her raucous charge into the unknown she could still swear that she heard movement around her. She could still swear that she felt eyes on her.
Twigs and underbrush bit at the palms of her hands as her movement became hasty and her crawl increasingly unstable. The guiding arm before her jerked erratically to and fro, whacking intruding plants aside, until the force of her hand struck something firm and unmoving.
Something warm and cloth covered.
Something alive.
She gave a strangled shriek and reared back in retreat. Her feet slid in the dirt, unable to gain traction, and in her terror her eyes snapped open. Sunlight speared through her vision and needled her unused irises, causing her to flinch away as the excruciating fire consumed them completely. But still she forced herself to shift her gaze upward, to see what was before her, and just as the fever took her she glimpsed hair the color of moonlight and silver-blue eyes.