Disclaimer: If I owned any of this "Lord of the Rings" stuff, I wouldn't be sitting here, writing fanfiction. I own Arwith. Steal her for your own use, and I'll send small, furry animals to eat your socks.
"This is not at all comforting. Not in the least." Aragorn stared almost fiercely at the orc sword and shield in front of him. They were stained with the crimson hue of human blood. The officer next to him spoke. "The ambush happened at the edge of one the local villages sometime around midnight, Sire. Had it not been for the soldiers that were on patrol, the rabble would surely have massacred the whole lot of them."
"Were there any casualties?" "Just one, Sire. An old man." "And what of his family?" "No family, sir."
"And the wounded?" "Two lieutenants and a captain, sir." Aragorn remained staring at the weapons in front of him. He sighed exhaustedly. "Thank you, major."
The officer bowed and turned to exit, but heard himself being summoned back.
"And major," Aragorn called after him. "Sire?" Aragorn turned his head to face him. "Do not make a point of delivering this news to the Queen." "Yes sir.
"...I realize that's none of my concern, Sire, but... Why?" Aragorn smiled. "Have you a wife by any chance?" The major beamed. "Aye, sir. Name's Eliza." Aragorn nodded understandingly. "And children, perhaps?" The major's grin grew. "Two sons and a girl. Hammon's nearly eight. Garon's three. Aroania's just two months old." Aragorn walked over, smiling at his proud informant. "When your Eliza was with child, did you never make certain that she stayed as content as possible?" The major's eyes widened. "Ah," the major answered. He nodded. "I understand you there, sir. No doubt about that."
"So what does it all mean?" Pippin asked, resting his chin on his hands and leaning on the balcony. "Is there going to be another war?" Gandalf sat observing the landscape, placidly drinking his tea with Faramir and the other three hobbits. "Sauron's orcs and Saruman's Uruk-Hai did not die merely because they're masters fell from power. They will go on living and perhaps even make more for as long as they possibly can." "Which is the exact reason why we're hunting them down," Faramir interrupted.
"But why have they started attacking again? They've been in hiding for almost a year. Why would they choose now of all times to rise up?" Merry leaned back in his chair and allowed his question to hang uncomfortably in the air for several minutes before Gandalf spoke. "Because they sense that something nearing. Something that is not unlike Sauron himself. Possibly something that would lead to yet another bloody war."
Frodo stared at him questioningly. "What gives you that impression?" Gandalf glanced wearily at him. "Because I sense it as well. The feeling was faint in the beginning, but for two weeks it's been steadily. It can no longer be denied." Noting the worried and uncertain faces of his colleagues, Gandalf continued. "If you doubt my words, then by all means, ask Legolas. He informed three mornings ago that he was feeling an approaching entity of some sort as well."
Sam appeared as though he had just remembered something. "Say," he started, "where is Legolas? I haven't seen hide nor hair of either him or Gimli since just after last night's dinner."
Gandalf pursed his lips through his long white beard and began to grin dryly. "I'm sure that you're aware by now of Legolas's and Gimli's somewhat competitive nature towards one another? Well, as it turns out, last night they decided to take their friendly animosity a step further. They challenged each other to discover which of the two could stand the most wine. They opened and emptied an entire keg of the strongest brew that they were able to find." Gandalf's leer reached its breaking point as he continued. "While the identity of the victor has yet to be known, we can be certain of one thing. They both are reportedly out cold and shall most likely and almost undoubtedly remain so for several hours, when they shall awake to find themselves suffering from the both nauseous and painful aftereffects of their actions, resulting in what I'm certain will be a hangover that would send even Sauron himself reeling."
Judging from the snickers and snorts that followed, it could be quite honestly said that the entire group had been momentarily distracted by what was certainly an entertaining visual from their current dilemma.