A/N:
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this. Characters, setting. etc. is all JRRT
This was just a lil bug that kept biting me until I wrote it! A quick oneshot- Enjoy! :)
Strider groaned. Darkness beckoned him again with it's comforting oblivion, but he fought it off stubbornly. He gritted his teeth as another wave of pain washed over him.
There was something... important that he need to wake up for. The reason he was lying on the hard ground, unmoving. He squinted his eyes open and tried to remember exactly what it was as the world swam in and out of focus. He had been fighting... Something. Someone? What was it again? He squeezed his eyes shut again as he focused on the last thing he could remember. Fighting. Pain. Blood. Falling. But what was he fighting? An image flashed in his memory. Right before the blade came down, a tall, ugly creature speaking in a low guttural tone. Orc. Orcs, rather.
He had to... had to... had to get up and warn them. Warn the rangers. Orcs were near. He couldn't fall back into the painless abyss just yet. Not while his men were counting on him. He dragged himself into a sitting position and assessed his condition. He lifted a shaky hand to his pounding skull and his fingers came away sticky with blood. Every breath he took sent stabs of pain through his torso. Using a nearby tree to pull himself into a standing position, he fought off waves of dizziness and the overwhelming urge to pass out. Standing up definitely made things worse.
There was nothing to be done for it, however, as his healing supplies were missing and time was of the essence. Warn the men. That was all he had to do. Then he could lay down and rest. And hopefully not wake up for a very, very long time. Taking a deep breath, he steeled himself and began staggering in the direction of camp. Or at least, the direction he thought camp was in. Probably.