III
In a very little time, Legolas began to like his guide, enjoying her company. She seemed quite graceful, but very tired of the world. That was apparent in the way she talked of things. Mäerallé rested in a tree one evening, watching the sky.
"And what of the shire, Mäerallé? What is going on there?" Legolas asked, tilting his head to one side. Mäerallé frowned slightly, as though not wishing to talk anymore.
"The shire? The shire is long gone, my friend. The hobbit's fell under the wrath of the mountain horde. Like.something else I know. A few hobbits remain, but most now live near where Lady Galadriel used to dwell. Now, forgive me, Legolas, for I wish to sleep." She smiled slightly, and then turned away from him, eyes still open. Legolas shifted sadly. Had so much changed?
The next morning, Mäerallé was not to be found, she had vanished off somewhere. Legolas waited patiently for her return. As she came back, he realised she was holding a horn. It looked similar to Gondor make, and Legolas looked at her. She lay it down in front of him, marvelling at his curiosity.
"The horn of Gondor. The last known artefact of the fellowship." Mäerallé stated; she leant back against a tree. There was something painful inscripted in her eyes. Legolas found himself gazing into the twin orbs, sighing. It was a flicker of great sadness, of change.and of fear.
"What is it?" He asked quickly getting up and clasping her hand. She shook her head, raising a finger to her lips. A distinct crunching of leaves emitted from the left of them. Four horses, each one of them rode by a.half elf.
"No.I don't want to go back.I don't want to," were the last words Legolas heard, before something hit him, and knocked him out. Mäerallé shrieked in horror, then the whole world turned and she fell to the floor. Over dead leaves and suchlike she scrambled, dragging Legolas with her. She felt the skim of arrows above her head, each one filled with sedative. She suffered the pain of one embedding itself in her neck, but still she struggled. Onwards and onwards till the world went.
Black.
In a very little time, Legolas began to like his guide, enjoying her company. She seemed quite graceful, but very tired of the world. That was apparent in the way she talked of things. Mäerallé rested in a tree one evening, watching the sky.
"And what of the shire, Mäerallé? What is going on there?" Legolas asked, tilting his head to one side. Mäerallé frowned slightly, as though not wishing to talk anymore.
"The shire? The shire is long gone, my friend. The hobbit's fell under the wrath of the mountain horde. Like.something else I know. A few hobbits remain, but most now live near where Lady Galadriel used to dwell. Now, forgive me, Legolas, for I wish to sleep." She smiled slightly, and then turned away from him, eyes still open. Legolas shifted sadly. Had so much changed?
The next morning, Mäerallé was not to be found, she had vanished off somewhere. Legolas waited patiently for her return. As she came back, he realised she was holding a horn. It looked similar to Gondor make, and Legolas looked at her. She lay it down in front of him, marvelling at his curiosity.
"The horn of Gondor. The last known artefact of the fellowship." Mäerallé stated; she leant back against a tree. There was something painful inscripted in her eyes. Legolas found himself gazing into the twin orbs, sighing. It was a flicker of great sadness, of change.and of fear.
"What is it?" He asked quickly getting up and clasping her hand. She shook her head, raising a finger to her lips. A distinct crunching of leaves emitted from the left of them. Four horses, each one of them rode by a.half elf.
"No.I don't want to go back.I don't want to," were the last words Legolas heard, before something hit him, and knocked him out. Mäerallé shrieked in horror, then the whole world turned and she fell to the floor. Over dead leaves and suchlike she scrambled, dragging Legolas with her. She felt the skim of arrows above her head, each one filled with sedative. She suffered the pain of one embedding itself in her neck, but still she struggled. Onwards and onwards till the world went.
Black.