Disclaimer: What is the point of having a disclaimer? You all know that I
don't own LotR, so I won't bother saying it.
Author's note: Rion is short for Eldarion, Aragorn's son. He's fifteen in this story.
I've decided that I'm not going to update this story unless I get at least three reviews for the last chapter. This way I know not to bother if no one likes it. So, if the chapters aren't coming fast enough for you, you know what to do.
***
"Excellent shot, Mir," laughed Rion, as the deer leapt away uninjured into the trees. Shooting Rion with an angry glare, Mir left the place where they had been hiding to retrieve his arrow. It had struck a tree several feet from the beast he was aiming at.
"Perhaps you should start giving lessons, you're so good," Rion suggested. Though nowhere near as good as Rion, Mir was normally better than this, and Rion couldn't resist the opportunity to tease. He'd probably regret it later, since Mir was very inventive when it came to getting revenge. Once he had placed some hot spices in his food when was having dinner with some ambassador. He couldn't remember who exactly it had been, since the ambassadors all seemed the same to him, but he had been forced to sit through the meal in a dignified and princely manner, resisting the temptation to drink a gallon of water after each mouthful. He still didn't feel they were even on that score, and so took every opportunity to even things out.
Mir gave a mock bow, pulling his arrow free from the tree and returning it to his quiver. He grinned widely at Rion.
"My demonstrations are saved for those who most need the help," he said. Both boys turned when there was a quickly smothered laugh from nearby, to see the guards who had accompanied them standing with perfectly serious looks on their faces. Mir glared at them, but Rion had a better idea.
"I doubt my father would send them with us if they were that bad at shooting, Mir," Rion said. Mir laughed. It wasn't often they made fun of those poor unfortunates who were given the task of looking after the young prince and his friend, but it served them right for laughing. It annoyed Rion that his father insisted he always be protected. It wasn't like he couldn't look after himself. He might not be an expert with the sword, but he could hold his own, and he was a better archer than any member of the guard. Besides, he wasn't likely to get attacked every time he left the city.
Unfortunately, his father was stubborn, and Rion knew that he would probably be followed by armed guards until he was well into his thirties.
"We should probably head home," Rion said, glancing up at the sky. The sun was beginning to creep towards the western horizon. "Father will be worried if we're not back before dark." That was an understatement. The king had a tendency to become frantic if his son wasn't safely home before the time he was due to return. Rion knew he should be glad his father cared for him so much, but like every child the overprotection annoyed him greatly.
"It's just a shame we must return home empty handed," Rion couldn't resist the final dig as he began to walk to where their horses were tied. The guards walked a discrete distance behind the two boys.
Rion froze as he heard something in the trees. It didn't sound like an animal, more like a foot shifting on fallen leaves. Someone trying very hard not to be heard. Mir looked at him when he stopped, and saw the expression on his face.
"What's wrong?" Rion didn't have a chance to answer, when an arrow struck the ground at his feet. He jumped backwards in shock, almost falling. In an instant the guards had their swords drawn, and the two boys had arrows on the strings of their bows. The guards moved closer to the boys, inspecting the dense trees around them. Even much of the foliage fallen, the depths of the wood were impenetrable. They had chosen this spot as a good place to hunt because of the cover, only now it seemed they were the prey.
"You are surrounded," a man's voice called, "lay down your weapons." Unfortunately, they couldn't tell if he was speaking the truth. The man might be alone, or there might be an army hiding in ambush.
Deciding to chance it, Rion fired an arrow in the direction of the voice. He heard a cry as his arrow struck its target, but he didn't know if he had killed or merely injured. He hoped the man was only hurt. He'd never killed anyone, and he didn't like the thought. He pushed the thought out of his mind, and placed another arrow on the bow.
Mir gave a shout of surprise as an arrow hit a tree mere inches from his face. Rion spun to face the point the arrow had come from, but even he could see nothing in the trees. He hated feeling helpless like this. They couldn't fight until their enemy showed themselves, and they could easily be killed where they were. He fought to keep his hands from trembling so that he wouldn't lose his aim. He couldn't let his fear control him.
The horses were nearby, and Rion knew he could easily get to them and be away, but he would be even more of a target on horseback. Besides, it would be as easy for the others, and he had to think about them. As more arrows struck the ground close to the group, Rion realised they should have hit somebody by now. The only reason they kept missing was because they wanted them alive. For some reason that made Rion even more afraid.
There was a shrill whistle, and the trees erupted with people. Men and women, all wearing a uniform with an emblem of a dragon emblazoned in red across the chest, charged at the small group. Rion fired arrow after arrow, hitting the attackers in the leg or shoulder so that they fell back injured. His father had taught him to fight, but he wasn't ready to kill anyone.
He couldn't fire fast enough, or in enough directions. Arms grabbed him from behind, causing to drop his bow. He couldn't draw his sword, and so had no way to defend himself, but fortunately one of the guards took down his assailant. Rion turned in time to see that same guard fall, knocked unconscious by a blow to the head dealt by another attacker. They were just too badly outnumbered.
For a moment he was clear, and Rion ran to the horses. He leapt on Firefly, his own horse, urging her away from the battle. Firefly reared suddenly as an arrow hit the ground at her front hooves. Rion, still distracted by the fight, lost his grip and fell. He struck the ground hard, pain shooting through his back and filling his awareness.
For a few moments the shock made him unable to do anything, and that was all it took for two men to grab him and haul him to his feet. He struggled and kicked, but they held his arms behind him so he couldn't get away. The others hadn't fared any better, he saw now. One of the guards was unconscious, the other pinned to the ground, a knife pressed across his throat. Mir was on his knees, a woman standing behind him, holding his arms and holding a knife to his throat.
Of their enemy, there were several injured, but only one lay dead. There was quite a large force, mostly men but with the occasional women, all armed with bows and swords. Rion struggled and tried to get away from the two that held him, but he stopped when the woman holding Mir pressed the knife tighter. What did these people want? Fear and uncertainty filled Rion.
One man, whose uniform had red stripes on the shoulder, stood in front of Rion and took his sword. Rion fought harder against the hands that held him. That sword had been a gift from his father on his birthday! That man had no business touching it!
"Hold still!" the man ordered, but Rion kept struggling. "If you care for your friend, hold still!" Rion saw Mir move his head back as far as he could, but the knife remained tight across his throat. He froze, and saw the woman release the pressure slightly.
"Good choice," the man said. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small glass bottle filled with a brown liquid. Opening the bottle, he held it to Rion's mouth. An unpleasant odour drifted up his nose, and Rion kept his mouth firmly closed.
"I can force you to drink if you wish," the man said. Rion hesitated, glancing over at Mir, helpless. He didn't see he had much choice, and so opened his mouth to accept the liquid. It had a bitter taste, and made his lips tingle slightly as it passed over them. He had drunk worse, most often when Mir was annoyed with him about something.
He had only swallowed a couple of mouthfuls when his legs began to feel weak. The men holding him tied his hands behind him. He tried to struggle, but his movements became slower. His eyes began to shut of their own accord. So tired.
"Rion!" Mir shouted. "Rion!" It sounded urgent. Rion found himself growing so tired his thoughts were coming slower. He ought to see what was wrong, why Mir was so upset. "Rion!" He just needed to close his eyes for moment. Just for a. . .
***
Author's note: I can almost hear you. What's Rion just drunk? Will he be alright? When's the romance coming into the story? And what's any of this got to do with flying dragons?
I don't mean to read people's minds, it just happens, honest. Anyway, please review and let me know what you think.
Author's note: Rion is short for Eldarion, Aragorn's son. He's fifteen in this story.
I've decided that I'm not going to update this story unless I get at least three reviews for the last chapter. This way I know not to bother if no one likes it. So, if the chapters aren't coming fast enough for you, you know what to do.
***
"Excellent shot, Mir," laughed Rion, as the deer leapt away uninjured into the trees. Shooting Rion with an angry glare, Mir left the place where they had been hiding to retrieve his arrow. It had struck a tree several feet from the beast he was aiming at.
"Perhaps you should start giving lessons, you're so good," Rion suggested. Though nowhere near as good as Rion, Mir was normally better than this, and Rion couldn't resist the opportunity to tease. He'd probably regret it later, since Mir was very inventive when it came to getting revenge. Once he had placed some hot spices in his food when was having dinner with some ambassador. He couldn't remember who exactly it had been, since the ambassadors all seemed the same to him, but he had been forced to sit through the meal in a dignified and princely manner, resisting the temptation to drink a gallon of water after each mouthful. He still didn't feel they were even on that score, and so took every opportunity to even things out.
Mir gave a mock bow, pulling his arrow free from the tree and returning it to his quiver. He grinned widely at Rion.
"My demonstrations are saved for those who most need the help," he said. Both boys turned when there was a quickly smothered laugh from nearby, to see the guards who had accompanied them standing with perfectly serious looks on their faces. Mir glared at them, but Rion had a better idea.
"I doubt my father would send them with us if they were that bad at shooting, Mir," Rion said. Mir laughed. It wasn't often they made fun of those poor unfortunates who were given the task of looking after the young prince and his friend, but it served them right for laughing. It annoyed Rion that his father insisted he always be protected. It wasn't like he couldn't look after himself. He might not be an expert with the sword, but he could hold his own, and he was a better archer than any member of the guard. Besides, he wasn't likely to get attacked every time he left the city.
Unfortunately, his father was stubborn, and Rion knew that he would probably be followed by armed guards until he was well into his thirties.
"We should probably head home," Rion said, glancing up at the sky. The sun was beginning to creep towards the western horizon. "Father will be worried if we're not back before dark." That was an understatement. The king had a tendency to become frantic if his son wasn't safely home before the time he was due to return. Rion knew he should be glad his father cared for him so much, but like every child the overprotection annoyed him greatly.
"It's just a shame we must return home empty handed," Rion couldn't resist the final dig as he began to walk to where their horses were tied. The guards walked a discrete distance behind the two boys.
Rion froze as he heard something in the trees. It didn't sound like an animal, more like a foot shifting on fallen leaves. Someone trying very hard not to be heard. Mir looked at him when he stopped, and saw the expression on his face.
"What's wrong?" Rion didn't have a chance to answer, when an arrow struck the ground at his feet. He jumped backwards in shock, almost falling. In an instant the guards had their swords drawn, and the two boys had arrows on the strings of their bows. The guards moved closer to the boys, inspecting the dense trees around them. Even much of the foliage fallen, the depths of the wood were impenetrable. They had chosen this spot as a good place to hunt because of the cover, only now it seemed they were the prey.
"You are surrounded," a man's voice called, "lay down your weapons." Unfortunately, they couldn't tell if he was speaking the truth. The man might be alone, or there might be an army hiding in ambush.
Deciding to chance it, Rion fired an arrow in the direction of the voice. He heard a cry as his arrow struck its target, but he didn't know if he had killed or merely injured. He hoped the man was only hurt. He'd never killed anyone, and he didn't like the thought. He pushed the thought out of his mind, and placed another arrow on the bow.
Mir gave a shout of surprise as an arrow hit a tree mere inches from his face. Rion spun to face the point the arrow had come from, but even he could see nothing in the trees. He hated feeling helpless like this. They couldn't fight until their enemy showed themselves, and they could easily be killed where they were. He fought to keep his hands from trembling so that he wouldn't lose his aim. He couldn't let his fear control him.
The horses were nearby, and Rion knew he could easily get to them and be away, but he would be even more of a target on horseback. Besides, it would be as easy for the others, and he had to think about them. As more arrows struck the ground close to the group, Rion realised they should have hit somebody by now. The only reason they kept missing was because they wanted them alive. For some reason that made Rion even more afraid.
There was a shrill whistle, and the trees erupted with people. Men and women, all wearing a uniform with an emblem of a dragon emblazoned in red across the chest, charged at the small group. Rion fired arrow after arrow, hitting the attackers in the leg or shoulder so that they fell back injured. His father had taught him to fight, but he wasn't ready to kill anyone.
He couldn't fire fast enough, or in enough directions. Arms grabbed him from behind, causing to drop his bow. He couldn't draw his sword, and so had no way to defend himself, but fortunately one of the guards took down his assailant. Rion turned in time to see that same guard fall, knocked unconscious by a blow to the head dealt by another attacker. They were just too badly outnumbered.
For a moment he was clear, and Rion ran to the horses. He leapt on Firefly, his own horse, urging her away from the battle. Firefly reared suddenly as an arrow hit the ground at her front hooves. Rion, still distracted by the fight, lost his grip and fell. He struck the ground hard, pain shooting through his back and filling his awareness.
For a few moments the shock made him unable to do anything, and that was all it took for two men to grab him and haul him to his feet. He struggled and kicked, but they held his arms behind him so he couldn't get away. The others hadn't fared any better, he saw now. One of the guards was unconscious, the other pinned to the ground, a knife pressed across his throat. Mir was on his knees, a woman standing behind him, holding his arms and holding a knife to his throat.
Of their enemy, there were several injured, but only one lay dead. There was quite a large force, mostly men but with the occasional women, all armed with bows and swords. Rion struggled and tried to get away from the two that held him, but he stopped when the woman holding Mir pressed the knife tighter. What did these people want? Fear and uncertainty filled Rion.
One man, whose uniform had red stripes on the shoulder, stood in front of Rion and took his sword. Rion fought harder against the hands that held him. That sword had been a gift from his father on his birthday! That man had no business touching it!
"Hold still!" the man ordered, but Rion kept struggling. "If you care for your friend, hold still!" Rion saw Mir move his head back as far as he could, but the knife remained tight across his throat. He froze, and saw the woman release the pressure slightly.
"Good choice," the man said. He reached into a pocket and pulled out a small glass bottle filled with a brown liquid. Opening the bottle, he held it to Rion's mouth. An unpleasant odour drifted up his nose, and Rion kept his mouth firmly closed.
"I can force you to drink if you wish," the man said. Rion hesitated, glancing over at Mir, helpless. He didn't see he had much choice, and so opened his mouth to accept the liquid. It had a bitter taste, and made his lips tingle slightly as it passed over them. He had drunk worse, most often when Mir was annoyed with him about something.
He had only swallowed a couple of mouthfuls when his legs began to feel weak. The men holding him tied his hands behind him. He tried to struggle, but his movements became slower. His eyes began to shut of their own accord. So tired.
"Rion!" Mir shouted. "Rion!" It sounded urgent. Rion found himself growing so tired his thoughts were coming slower. He ought to see what was wrong, why Mir was so upset. "Rion!" He just needed to close his eyes for moment. Just for a. . .
***
Author's note: I can almost hear you. What's Rion just drunk? Will he be alright? When's the romance coming into the story? And what's any of this got to do with flying dragons?
I don't mean to read people's minds, it just happens, honest. Anyway, please review and let me know what you think.