Author's Note: I do not own any of the characters aside from Aranorn; they
all belong to the Tolkiens and should forever have their name branded upon
them. I hope you enjoy Tûl Acharn - Vengeance Comes.
A wind rustled through the trees, leaving the young ranger restless and cold in her deep slumber. It wasn't a comfortable rest, but it was a long awaited one; she had been traveling for days in the great dankness of Mirkwood with no luck of finding her father. She knew full well that she wasn't supposed to be wandering and scouting without the aid of one her father's companions, but she had neither patience nor want of their help. She was a daughter of Kings; she didn't need help from people that only looked to belittle her in their own patronizing ways.
Light began to filter through the trees; dawn was breaking on the west of Mirkwood. Normally a few hours of rest would've been enough to allay her need for sleep until dusk fell; today was different. Mirkwood was hazy today, even danker than she had remembered from her early days tracking Uruk-Hai with her father, Aragorn son of Arathorn the Second.
Slowly, the girl of no more than eighteen opened up her leaf-shaded eyes to see the fog already descending on the Old Road. Since the War of the Ring, it had become nearly impassable but thanks to her knowledge of Eryn Lasgalen otherwise known as Mirkwood. Her lids fluttered lightly, revealing her dark blue eyes. Slowly, the girl sat up and ran a gloved hand through her shoulder length chestnut hair; how early was it? Or rather, how late was it? How long had she slept?
The girl blinked a few times, slowly becoming aware again of her surroundings. The light of the sun was now listlessly waxing in the gaining morning and Aranorn rose to her feet, dusting off her riding clothes so that only a few leaves were dangling off strands of her mud caked hair. Her horse, Ereinion, twitched nervously against the tree to which he leaned against. The young horse - son to Shadowfax, Lord of Horses and indeed of the Riddermark itself - was obviously nervous about something. What that something was, Aranorn was unaware of.
Gathering up her supplies and dousing the fire she had lit the night before, Aranorn resaddled Ereinion, put her foot in the stirrup, and pulled herself atop the large gray horse. She dug her heels once into Ereinion and they sped away at a fairly quick trot down the misty path of the Old Road.
Mirkwood was especially quiet that day; even the leaves did not rustle under Ereinion's light steps. The wind was overtly quiet. it was almost ominous. Aranorn urged Ereinion forward by whisperning lightly in his ear, "Noro lim, Ereinion. We must make haste." The young horse quickened his pace, still waving his head and tail around frantically.
Something was definitely not right.
"Noro lim!"
Ereinion sped up and began to gallop down the Old Road, now almost panicked. There was something ahead that even he did not want to meet with his usual headstrong nature. That something was the one something that Aranorn never wished to see.
-----
Author's Footnote: Noro lim, in Sindarin, means Run faster; Ereinion was Elbereth Gilthoniel's name. consequently, it means Scion or Descendant of Kings.
A wind rustled through the trees, leaving the young ranger restless and cold in her deep slumber. It wasn't a comfortable rest, but it was a long awaited one; she had been traveling for days in the great dankness of Mirkwood with no luck of finding her father. She knew full well that she wasn't supposed to be wandering and scouting without the aid of one her father's companions, but she had neither patience nor want of their help. She was a daughter of Kings; she didn't need help from people that only looked to belittle her in their own patronizing ways.
Light began to filter through the trees; dawn was breaking on the west of Mirkwood. Normally a few hours of rest would've been enough to allay her need for sleep until dusk fell; today was different. Mirkwood was hazy today, even danker than she had remembered from her early days tracking Uruk-Hai with her father, Aragorn son of Arathorn the Second.
Slowly, the girl of no more than eighteen opened up her leaf-shaded eyes to see the fog already descending on the Old Road. Since the War of the Ring, it had become nearly impassable but thanks to her knowledge of Eryn Lasgalen otherwise known as Mirkwood. Her lids fluttered lightly, revealing her dark blue eyes. Slowly, the girl sat up and ran a gloved hand through her shoulder length chestnut hair; how early was it? Or rather, how late was it? How long had she slept?
The girl blinked a few times, slowly becoming aware again of her surroundings. The light of the sun was now listlessly waxing in the gaining morning and Aranorn rose to her feet, dusting off her riding clothes so that only a few leaves were dangling off strands of her mud caked hair. Her horse, Ereinion, twitched nervously against the tree to which he leaned against. The young horse - son to Shadowfax, Lord of Horses and indeed of the Riddermark itself - was obviously nervous about something. What that something was, Aranorn was unaware of.
Gathering up her supplies and dousing the fire she had lit the night before, Aranorn resaddled Ereinion, put her foot in the stirrup, and pulled herself atop the large gray horse. She dug her heels once into Ereinion and they sped away at a fairly quick trot down the misty path of the Old Road.
Mirkwood was especially quiet that day; even the leaves did not rustle under Ereinion's light steps. The wind was overtly quiet. it was almost ominous. Aranorn urged Ereinion forward by whisperning lightly in his ear, "Noro lim, Ereinion. We must make haste." The young horse quickened his pace, still waving his head and tail around frantically.
Something was definitely not right.
"Noro lim!"
Ereinion sped up and began to gallop down the Old Road, now almost panicked. There was something ahead that even he did not want to meet with his usual headstrong nature. That something was the one something that Aranorn never wished to see.
-----
Author's Footnote: Noro lim, in Sindarin, means Run faster; Ereinion was Elbereth Gilthoniel's name. consequently, it means Scion or Descendant of Kings.