Disclaimer: Same applies.
A/N I am having the most AWFUL case of writers block right now, please help me, I will try and post another chapter up sooner but i'm having a busy week.
Glorfindel34- Thanks for reviewing sweetie! Orcs? nah i'm thinking something more subtle. Yes i'm being vague on purpose, it's a new writing technique I read about and I thought why not try it out? Please review this chapter as Your input means the world to me :-)
Gremlin-the-LOTR-angel: Thanks for the review. hope you like this chapter, review again ;-)
Reviews are always welcome!
Desperation
The light from the fire cast eerie shadow on the trees, the soft snorting of the horses the only sound that penetrated the dark, unearthly, night. The very air was charged with emotions, making the whole camp jumpy and restless. The forest was as silent as the grave, neither bird nor beast made a sound.
By a solitary fire, a lone figure was silhouetted against the dancing flames, deep in thought, excluding an air that made none want to be near him. The figure's hands constantly clenched and unclenched in a steady pattern, clench, unclench. Broken eyes stared into the leaping flames as though they held the answers to all the problems in his heart, following the orange flames in their enticing dance, trying to forget for a moment the crushing emptiness that was overpowering his soul.
If I lose her I will die.
He had given in to the mens' pleading to stop for the night, weary mind taking in their objections that they should stop, that he would do no good if he was on the verge of collapse if they found her, when, when they found her. Time was running out.
Is she crying out for me, is she wondering where I am, why I am not there.
More tears escape hooded lids as they join the path of a thousand others that have been shed in the bitter watches of the night. They are not stopped, simply allowed to fall in a waterfall of grief, numbing the mind to aught else.
I will fall upon my blade if she dies
The mind is too fatigued to acknowledge the worried stares of the men, their hushed whispers to each other, the way their eyes hold pity and compassion, they too love their lady.
Someone have mercy, I beg of you.
Countless hours pass by until the soft light of dawn fillters through the trees and the sweet chiruping of bird calls echo through the forest. The camp is silent as they pack up and ready for another day of searching, everyone averting their eyes from their sorrowful captian. The horses are mounted swiftly and again the various pairs move out, more determined than ever to find something, their loyalty knows no bounds and they will not stop until they have found her.
Dead or alive.