Disclaimer: The Lord of the rings and all its characters belong to J.R.R.
Tolkien.
Summary: The setting is post-RoTK. A renewed attack by a band of Southrons sees Faramir, Legolas and Gimli set off to Ithilien soon after Aragorn's coronation. Faramir and Legolas are yet to build their settlements in Ithilien.
Defiler - you are too kind, thank you for your beautiful review. I'm glad that you enjoy the story. I have loved the books ever since I read them. I just hope that this story continue to interest you. Do keep reviewing and do feel free to let me know if any errors spot up anywhere.
Legolas had already swung his horse to a halt, having heard the sound of movement from a hilly glade to their east. The arrows had come from that direction fired randomly at them, but hitting none. The horses reared, neighing furiously, forcing the riders to spend valuable time calming them down, before they could pursue their attackers.
Legolas had his mare clamed first, before moving to help his dwarfen friend, who was not altogether renown for being an equine person. He grabbed at the reins of Gimli's horse, succeeding in quieting it down enough for his friend to slide off. They ran swiftly in the direction of the arrows to reach a small rise. Down below in a small sunken patch of land, could be seen two horsemen racing to join a small company galloping away at a furious speed. Distance and dim light combined to make it impossible to ascertain the colours they wore.
"Men from Harad?" Gimli questioned.
"I cannot say from this distance," Faramir shaded his eyes in an effort to see if he could make out anything, "Legolas you have keener eyes, can you make out their colours?"
"I see black, and perhaps red, they are too far now," the elf replied quietly.
"We must follow them, are thye not whom we are after?" Gimli asked.
"No, they are too far, and we cannot track them at this time, they will have found their own hideout, and we cannot risk an ambush," Faramir replied.
"The arrows do not tell much," Mablung carefully held one out in his hands, "They are roughly made, our *friends* have perhaps run out of ammunition."
"That might explain why they did not opt for direct confrontation," Legolas replied comprehendingly, "The firing was merely a distraction while they made their escape."
Mablung growled at the thought of having missed the opportunity to capture the men. With limited weaponry, they would have been easier to catch.
"Our reports said they were much further north, and closer to the road," Faramir mused, "And why are they short of weapons if they intended to brew trouble?"
"Perhaps their weapons fell in their encounter with our rangers," Damrod suggested.
"Perhaps," Faramir muttered, as the group made its way back to the horses.
"Have they found your hideout, do you suppose," Gimli said, once the horses had been gathered and they set off towards the copse again, having gathered all the scattered arrows.
"No," Mablung replied swinging off his horse upon entering the little wood, and examining the ground carefully in what little light was left, "None has been here for a long while now."
Legolas nodded his head in agreement, "It seems to have remained undisturbed."
Faramir had pulled out most of his rangers from Ithilien during the siege of Gondor and diverted them to strengthen their garrison at the old capital of Osgiliath. The last few months with things returning to normalcy for the ordinary folk, many of the rangers had been allowed to visit home, leaving a smaller patrol in Ithilien.
The rest of the way they made in silence, allowing the sounds of the darkening forest to take over completely. Crickets chirped somewhere, a breeze rustled the leaves, and an odd animal or two made a few cursory sounds.
The sun had disappeared by the time they negotiated the narrow passage in the rocks, and coaxed their horses through the tunnel. An order from Aragorn had ensured that Legolas and Gimli would not need to be blindfolded to enter any of the strongholds, as had been customary practice for one who was not of the rangers. Legolas got his horse through with ease, and returned to help his friends with theirs, and led them to the circular little piece of land surrounded by rock formations on all sides. Mablung pointed out the other tunnel to Legolas and Gimli.
After a small meal, the watches were decided and Faramir asked for the first one, opting to sit on a tiny ledge atop one of the rocky walls, hidden from view by a huge rock, keeping in sight both entrances, as well as the sweep of land around, Harad road somewherein the east invisible from where he sat, while the silver of the Anduin flickered to the west. Cair Andros lay up the river to the north west, Emyn Arnen to the south and the White City to the west.
The others turned in for the night, so he sat quietly watching for the flicker of the river in the distance, remembering the day he had thought he'd seen his brother's body floating by, wondering if he'd been dreaming. Not for the first time, he wished his brother could have seen his beloved city as Faramir had the day before. The sun shining brightly down, the women smiling, children laughing and playing, all happy to be back in their city from the mountain villages where they had been sent for refuge.
This was the Gondor Bormoir had wanted, the Gondor that Faramir himself had yearned for, as he had sat on watches at night, like this, here and in other hideouts across Ithilien, wondering if ever the fighting would cease. Leading his rangers, fighting by his brother's side, keeping Minas Tirth safe for the dawn of a new day when they could live without the undercurrents of the fear from the east, holding her for the king when he would return to take his rightful place.
And now the darkness from the east was destroyed, and the king had returned to take his throne, but peace still seemed elusive. And they knew not why.
He relinquished his watch to Gimli soon, when the stars had come out in their fullness glittering across the clear summer sky, and lay down to sleep, finding some semblance of repose as he breathed in the clear air, a slight breeze from the Anduin bringing with it the soothing scent of grass and wood and earth. It calmed him to an extent he hadn't felt lately, and lulled him to a short sleep.
The next morning they rose with the sun, and set off in the direction of the horsemen they had spotted, towards Harad Road, only to come to a halt midway when they came across a party of rangers.
Anborn, one of Faramir's men walked up to them as they dismounted in a small glade covered with long grass that had till moments before hidden the men, who had instantly recognised their old comrades.
His news was not good.
"We've been coming across more than a few interlopers, Capt - my lords," he said almost slipping back into the form of address he had always used for Faramir, even now unsure as to how he should address him, and settling for the easiest option by addressing both all of them together.
"We came across at least three different groups of raiders yesterday, and we know not how many we may have missed, for we are few here, until more of our men return from the City and the villages."
"I do not think the men of Harad want peace," Gimli muttered heavily behind Faramir.
While away in Minas Tirth, from the outthrust battlement overlooking the Pelennor, could be seen a rider coming in from the road to the vales of the mountains of Gondor, swiftly urging his mount across the fields.
To be continued...
Summary: The setting is post-RoTK. A renewed attack by a band of Southrons sees Faramir, Legolas and Gimli set off to Ithilien soon after Aragorn's coronation. Faramir and Legolas are yet to build their settlements in Ithilien.
Defiler - you are too kind, thank you for your beautiful review. I'm glad that you enjoy the story. I have loved the books ever since I read them. I just hope that this story continue to interest you. Do keep reviewing and do feel free to let me know if any errors spot up anywhere.
Legolas had already swung his horse to a halt, having heard the sound of movement from a hilly glade to their east. The arrows had come from that direction fired randomly at them, but hitting none. The horses reared, neighing furiously, forcing the riders to spend valuable time calming them down, before they could pursue their attackers.
Legolas had his mare clamed first, before moving to help his dwarfen friend, who was not altogether renown for being an equine person. He grabbed at the reins of Gimli's horse, succeeding in quieting it down enough for his friend to slide off. They ran swiftly in the direction of the arrows to reach a small rise. Down below in a small sunken patch of land, could be seen two horsemen racing to join a small company galloping away at a furious speed. Distance and dim light combined to make it impossible to ascertain the colours they wore.
"Men from Harad?" Gimli questioned.
"I cannot say from this distance," Faramir shaded his eyes in an effort to see if he could make out anything, "Legolas you have keener eyes, can you make out their colours?"
"I see black, and perhaps red, they are too far now," the elf replied quietly.
"We must follow them, are thye not whom we are after?" Gimli asked.
"No, they are too far, and we cannot track them at this time, they will have found their own hideout, and we cannot risk an ambush," Faramir replied.
"The arrows do not tell much," Mablung carefully held one out in his hands, "They are roughly made, our *friends* have perhaps run out of ammunition."
"That might explain why they did not opt for direct confrontation," Legolas replied comprehendingly, "The firing was merely a distraction while they made their escape."
Mablung growled at the thought of having missed the opportunity to capture the men. With limited weaponry, they would have been easier to catch.
"Our reports said they were much further north, and closer to the road," Faramir mused, "And why are they short of weapons if they intended to brew trouble?"
"Perhaps their weapons fell in their encounter with our rangers," Damrod suggested.
"Perhaps," Faramir muttered, as the group made its way back to the horses.
"Have they found your hideout, do you suppose," Gimli said, once the horses had been gathered and they set off towards the copse again, having gathered all the scattered arrows.
"No," Mablung replied swinging off his horse upon entering the little wood, and examining the ground carefully in what little light was left, "None has been here for a long while now."
Legolas nodded his head in agreement, "It seems to have remained undisturbed."
Faramir had pulled out most of his rangers from Ithilien during the siege of Gondor and diverted them to strengthen their garrison at the old capital of Osgiliath. The last few months with things returning to normalcy for the ordinary folk, many of the rangers had been allowed to visit home, leaving a smaller patrol in Ithilien.
The rest of the way they made in silence, allowing the sounds of the darkening forest to take over completely. Crickets chirped somewhere, a breeze rustled the leaves, and an odd animal or two made a few cursory sounds.
The sun had disappeared by the time they negotiated the narrow passage in the rocks, and coaxed their horses through the tunnel. An order from Aragorn had ensured that Legolas and Gimli would not need to be blindfolded to enter any of the strongholds, as had been customary practice for one who was not of the rangers. Legolas got his horse through with ease, and returned to help his friends with theirs, and led them to the circular little piece of land surrounded by rock formations on all sides. Mablung pointed out the other tunnel to Legolas and Gimli.
After a small meal, the watches were decided and Faramir asked for the first one, opting to sit on a tiny ledge atop one of the rocky walls, hidden from view by a huge rock, keeping in sight both entrances, as well as the sweep of land around, Harad road somewherein the east invisible from where he sat, while the silver of the Anduin flickered to the west. Cair Andros lay up the river to the north west, Emyn Arnen to the south and the White City to the west.
The others turned in for the night, so he sat quietly watching for the flicker of the river in the distance, remembering the day he had thought he'd seen his brother's body floating by, wondering if he'd been dreaming. Not for the first time, he wished his brother could have seen his beloved city as Faramir had the day before. The sun shining brightly down, the women smiling, children laughing and playing, all happy to be back in their city from the mountain villages where they had been sent for refuge.
This was the Gondor Bormoir had wanted, the Gondor that Faramir himself had yearned for, as he had sat on watches at night, like this, here and in other hideouts across Ithilien, wondering if ever the fighting would cease. Leading his rangers, fighting by his brother's side, keeping Minas Tirth safe for the dawn of a new day when they could live without the undercurrents of the fear from the east, holding her for the king when he would return to take his rightful place.
And now the darkness from the east was destroyed, and the king had returned to take his throne, but peace still seemed elusive. And they knew not why.
He relinquished his watch to Gimli soon, when the stars had come out in their fullness glittering across the clear summer sky, and lay down to sleep, finding some semblance of repose as he breathed in the clear air, a slight breeze from the Anduin bringing with it the soothing scent of grass and wood and earth. It calmed him to an extent he hadn't felt lately, and lulled him to a short sleep.
The next morning they rose with the sun, and set off in the direction of the horsemen they had spotted, towards Harad Road, only to come to a halt midway when they came across a party of rangers.
Anborn, one of Faramir's men walked up to them as they dismounted in a small glade covered with long grass that had till moments before hidden the men, who had instantly recognised their old comrades.
His news was not good.
"We've been coming across more than a few interlopers, Capt - my lords," he said almost slipping back into the form of address he had always used for Faramir, even now unsure as to how he should address him, and settling for the easiest option by addressing both all of them together.
"We came across at least three different groups of raiders yesterday, and we know not how many we may have missed, for we are few here, until more of our men return from the City and the villages."
"I do not think the men of Harad want peace," Gimli muttered heavily behind Faramir.
While away in Minas Tirth, from the outthrust battlement overlooking the Pelennor, could be seen a rider coming in from the road to the vales of the mountains of Gondor, swiftly urging his mount across the fields.
To be continued...