My horse was trying to run away again. Actually the words my horse may be slightly stretching the truth, but I was intending to give it back. I had come out into the woods to forage for food, and as a result wanted the fastest way in and out of the woods, so I borrowed the farmer's horse.

A darkness had been coming in the north, ever since the ringbearer had passed into the Grey Havens. At least that is what I know now. Back then all I knew was that for five years I had been increasingly worried by the tales coming from Bree and further off, of a dimness over the barrows and further into Angvarr, where the witch king came from, and, as such, was trying to spend as much time out of the woods and in sight of the village as I could so that I would not be harmed.

I was looking for early berries, in the faint hope that there would be any, checking constantly over my shoulder for any sign of an animal following me, or maybe something to hunt. I'm not too bad with a slingshot and have brought down birds and things with it. There had been nothing there this whole trip and it was starting to make me twitchy.

It was about then that I heard a huge noise that sounded like a peal of thunder, and when I looked towards my village I saw the top of the pillar of smoke which was starting to rise from the top of it.

Very worried now I got on (my) the horse, and quickly headed towards the village.

Perhaps a small note of introduction while making you wait for what I will say next? My name is Philomel Hiraeth. My mother brought me and my little brother, Elspeth, up alone, which is, in a small village, very shocking indeed. We did not know who our father was, or even if it was the same man twice. We have all got used to it, however, and so we were just the Hiraeths, the girl and boy bastards of the village.

So, anyway, I was riding back to the village with the plume of smoke rising in front of me, getting thicker and taller rapidly. Incredibly quickly the smoke covered everything around me, making me gasp for air and having to get off the horse and go on foot to feel the way forward (the horse promptly ran away, irritating git).

I did not realize that I had got to my village until I fell over the now-foot-high ruins of what was once the bakery. In a panic I started calling out, for my mother, for Elsalth, my brother, Piers the baker, anyone at all until I suddenly understood that the people or things that had destroyed the village were most likely wanting to kill everyone there, not just the adults, so I ran and hid until the smoke cleared.

With the smoke finally gone I could see the damage done. Whole houses exploded outwards with the bricks having the flower's pattern of fire. Rubble everywhere. Not a wall still standing that was higher than four feet. And finally when I got to where the main square had been and where my house used to stand, I turned and threw up everything that was in my stomach. for I had found what had caused the smoke.

It was the bodies of everyone that I had ever known, twisted and mangled by the heat of the fire, blood boiled dry in their veins...my mother, Elsalth, Marigold...all of them.

I turned away and ran into the place where we buried our dead, found a shovel and started digging, hoping that I would be able to loose my memories by not thinking of anything. So I worked all that day, burying my friends and family and was still at it the next, trying to finish them all. I had finished by the third day, and had been able to work out a plan of sorts. I would go to the capital of Gondor, try to gain an audience with the King, Aragorn, and would ask him for help. It was not that bad a plan, either. I knew where I was, roughly, from looking at maps of the kingdom and all I had to do was to find the highroad, and the rest would be plain sailing.

I finally fell asleep that night, for the first time in days, but woke up constantly, screaming for my mother.

The next day I got up, ate a few dandelions and a tuber that I had roasted over the fire that I had managed to build with a few remaining sparks from the explosion. I then decided that it would be best to go and find the horse, as it no longer belonged to anyone.

That was not the best idea.

I managed to track it down within a few hours, however we then played a really fun game of 'Make Philomel look like an idiot'. Deciding that it was too late to set off today, I went to look for some food in the woods, after securely tying the horse up. I also scavenged through the village for anything still intact and usable, and found some rope, spare clothes, a knife and my sling.

That night I still slept badly, but the next morning I got up in time and set off mid morning.

I jolted along quite happily for sometime, however several days of very little sleep quickly came up on me and I started to doze off. Very quickly I found that sleeping on horseback is not easy. I fell off the horse about a dozen times that first morning. I managed to make it through the rest of the day by pinching myself hard whenever I felt myself fall asleep.

At dusk I was just about starting to think about making camp and going to sleep not on a horse, when I saw a fire springing up in the distance.

Now the village that I grew up in was not that far north and west of Rivendell. I had never seen an elf, but I had always wanted to. However the events of the last few days had given me some sense of self-preservation, so I got off the horse, and made my way quietly towards the fire.

It was not elves around that fire, though. Nor humen, dwarves or any other friendly race. Instead it was a pack of goblins down from the Misty Mountains.

As quietly as I could I slipped away from the fire, however I must have made some noise for all the goblins swung round to look in my direction. Utterly ignoring any ideas of being quiet, I ran to the horse trying to untangle the mess I made of the reigns while tying him up. Having managed that I scrambled on and gave him his head. He, clever horse that he was, ran stright away from the goblins, but still in roughly the right direction that I wanted to go in.

I rode through the night, I think, as I am unsure of remembering this accurately, but I do know that by sun rise I was still on the, now walking, horse's back.

Suddenly I felt the surface that I was riding on change, from undergrowth to road. Realizing that I was on the highroad, finally, I closed my eyes and fell asleep, on the horse ( though not for long) in the middle of the highroad to Gondor.

Thank you to anyone reading this fanfic. I am new to this site, so please do not judge too harshly (no flames please)

reviews are love :D

Thanks