Thank you to everyone who reviewed the last chapter. To those of you who don't really like angst, I'm sorry. It's kind of my forte and one of my favourite things to write, but I promise that it will fade down again relatively soon. Thank you so much to Hermione Granger (the wrath of Dís will come soon, I promise) and the unnamed guest (I know it was quite disturbing and I'm sorry, but I'm glad you liked it anyway!)
This chapter is named after a Sia song, the chorus to which fits this chapter very well:
"Let's not fight, I'm tired
Can we just sleep tonight
Turn away, it's just there's nothing
Left here to say
Turn around, I know we're lost but
Soon we'll be found."
So I hope you enjoy it.
Read. Enjoy. Review.
Chapter Eighty Nine # Soon We Will Be Found #
"This makes no sense."
"That's the fifth time you've said that, Alfr, it's not helping!"
"Kíli," Bragi said softly. "He knows."
"But does anyone know how?" Kíli ground his teeth together. "How they can just disappear – Elrohir's bow is still over there, this was clearly their campsite and-"
"I found something!" called Soren.
Kíli raced over to see what Soren was looking at – a spray of blood drops stretching across the bark of a tree.
"It looks like there's been a struggle," Soren continued. "The bushes, branches, they're all disturbed. And there's what looks like orc blood, lots of it."
"Orcs?" Kíli swallowed. "Orcs took them?"
"Not just orcs," Bragi stepped forward. "They would not be so careful, and they certainly would not have left the rest of us sleeping like babes until Nelly sounded the alarm."
"Assuming this is connected to the Nori and Fíli and the rest of them disappearing."
"Alfr, are you suggesting that the prisoners and their guards happen to have disappeared, leaving nothing but blood and orc-blood behind, on the same day that five of our own travelling group vanish into thin air? Are you going to tell me that it's just a coincidence that the wolves all dropped to sleep now, too?"
"That would be highly improbable," Alfr sighed. "I'm just saying that it is possible."
Trying desperately to clear his head, Kíli took a deep breath. "The dwarves they're holding, Frár and Sindri, they've teamed with ruffians before-"
Alfr shook his head. "Orcs and ruffians are not the same thing, orcs don't just team up-"
"I know that!" Kíli snapped. "But they're slimy bastards and I think I heard them mention something about goblins."
"So you're saying that you think some orcs decided to free these dwarves-"
Kíli's nostrils flared. "Well it's better than your coincidence theories!"
Bragi stepped forward. "Hey…"
"How would orcs, even if they were working with Sindri and Frár, manage to kidnap Nori and Fíli of all people? Fíli is a light sleeper whenever he travels-"
"I know that," Kíli growled, stepping towards Alfr. "He's my brother."
Alfr retaliated by stepping closer to Kíli. "Yes, well, in some ways we've known him longer than you have-"
"What?" Kíli snarled, unable to believe his ears. "You think I don't know my own brother because I've had amnesia for twenty years? Who do you think you are?"
"Someone who's actually managing to keep his head on and-"
"My brothers are gone!" Kíli roared, ignoring the tears pricking at his eyes. "They're gone and there's no sign of them, they're just gone and you're going to scorn me for being upset?"
"Hey, hey, hey!" Bragi yelled, stepping in between the two of them. "Calm down! Who do you think you are going to help by fighting each other? Fíli and the others are out there, somewhere, possibly in danger and arguing about who knows Fíli best is going to do nothing but hurt our chances of ever finding them alive. We need to find a trail to follow, and you both need to realise that you're not enemies."
Kíli swallowed and nodded. "Alright…"
A guilty look flickered across Alfr's eyes and he faltered. "Kíli, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to-"
"Me too," Kíli smiled weakly.
"No, really," Alfr insisted, stepping forward. "I didn't mean what I said. I'm just… scared."
"I know," Kíli mumbled, staring at his feet. "Me too."
Soren cleared his throat, shuffling awkwardly from a couple of feet away. "I think I might've found it…A trail, I mean."
Kíli walked over to where Soren was standing and a horrible feeling swept through his stomach. "It's a road…"
"Yep," Soren pursed his lips. "There's nothing clear enough to gauge how many we're looking at and there's not much of a trail, but I think I can follow it."
"Good," Bragi said. "Soren and Alfr – follow the trail. Kíli and I must go and tell the others."
"Is that really a good idea?" Kíli wondered.
"Your mother thought so," Bragi pointed out.
Kíli nodded. "And I trust her inexplicably, but Glorfindel, Elrohir and Elladan are warriors, they'd been fighting for centuries when Erebor was first colonised! If they did not leave of their own accord the sort of danger you would be walking into…"
There was a long pause.
"Follow the trail on high alert," said Bragi. "Observe what you can, but if the situation looks dangerous do not engage. Come back, follow our trail and let us know what is going on."
"Follow, observe, call for back-up," Alfr repeated with a nod.
"And be careful," Bragi insisted.
Soren unsheathed his sword. "We will. See you soon."
"Take care," Kíli worried.
As Alfr and Soren disappeared down the road, Bragi touched Kíli's arm.
"Let's go," the albino murmured.
Kíli nodded and followed him back to their nearby ponies.
"You're doing well."
"Excuse me?" Kíli frowned.
"You are coping well. Just hang on for a little while longer. We'll get them back."
Kíli lowered his eyes. "You cannot know that."
"I can," Bragi promised. "We will get them back."
"And if we don't?" Kíli looked up. "What if they are dead already?"
"Whoever did this, they left the rest of us asleep in our beds. If they wanted to kill them we would be dead too."
Kíli shook his head. "These people… these people are… they're…"
He could not find the words. He did not think that he wanted to.
Bragi pursed his lips. "Come on. We have news to deliver – hopefully the others do too."
Sindri's roar of frustration when the orcs came back empty handed was so loud that Paladin wondered if there was anyone this side of the Mist Mountains who had not heard it. The hobbit was beyond relieved that his son was no longer in the hands of these monsters, but he could not help but fear his own fate.
"Now, here's how things are going to work," Sindri declared. "If anyone screams too loudly, one of you will be tortured – severally – and then killed. If anyone tries to escape, one of you will be tortured and then killed. For example, if this fellow here-" he pushed Paladin roughly. "Was to try and escape, we would take his little brat here-" he shook Pippin up and down, and the little hobbit squeaked. Paladin's heart ignited with fury. "Break his little fingers and toes, beat him to within an inch of his life and then kill him in some interesting, inventive way. Got it?"
Fíli had already suffered torture at the hands of these monsters, and Paladin did not know how much more the dwarf could physically take. Paladin did not want to think of the potential consequences if they chose to punish Fíli for the escape, but he had no desire to be tortured himself.
Resting his head back against the tree, Paladin took a deep breath and prayed.
"Very well," anger broiled through Sindri's voice and, despite himself, Paladin began to tremble. "I warned you what would happen, I told you!"
He strode straight towards Paladin, snatching a whip from one of the nearby orcs. Paladin cringed back into the tree and closed his eyes as Sindri raised his arm to strike.
"Wait!" Fíli wheezed. "Technically… you only told us the consequences… if we tried to escape… they succeeded, so it doesn't count…"
Gnashing his teeth, Sindri bellowed and smashed the whip into Paladin. The pain was unbelievable, but Paladin imagined that his teeth were glued together with that disgusting, supernaturally sticky toffee that had been the result of him, Esme and Kíli being allowed in the kitchen unsupervised.
"Try and say something!" Kíli laughed, and Paladin tried but he could not prise his teeth apart. He laughed through his nose and Esme and Kíli roared with laughter.
The whip snapped down again and Paladin kept his mouth closed. When he felt himself moaning in pain he stopped himself, imagining that he was playing hide and seek, that he could not be caught, he could not be found.
He wished that he could be found.
Then, as quickly as if had started, it was over.
Paladin opened his eyes, blinking to dispel his tears so that he could watch Sindri storm across the campsite.
"You! Ulg!"
"Yes, Master?" the orc crooned.
"I told you of what I wanted done with the great lion prince," he snarled. "Take him, now, and take the hobbit with you. If they escape, I will track you down and introduce you to your own intestines."
"Ah!" Glorfindel sighed dramatically. "Such pain it is, when someone steals your threats and adds such eloquence!"
"Shut up!" Sindri whirled around, his face as red as a beetroot, and pointed his finger at Glorfindel. "You will be dead before this day is over, do you hear me? Dead! So if you want your last words to be a snivelling spiel of sarcastic shit, go right ahead and be my guest! If not, shut up!"
Glorfindel raised a delicate eyebrow. "My my. At least the Balrog had manners."
Frár grabbed Sindri's hand before the other dwarf could go into a rage and the two stared at each other for a long moment.
"Bring over the ranger," Sindri demanded tightly.
Paladin watched nervously as Ned was dragged from the back of the woods to Fíli's feet.
"I have pity for you, Master Ned," said Frár. "This journey, to you, is nothing personal. I know. You are merely doing as you have been told. It is not your fault. So I give you a choice. If you kill the troublesome elf over there, you will be set free, given provisions, weapons and sent on your way. No harm, no foul. You were just doing your job. Just like we are."
Ned glared. "Not a chance."
"Are you sure? Because if you do not take this deal you will die. Immediately."
The ranger held his head up high. "Then I will die with honour, befitting of a true Dunedain Ranger."
"Very well," Frár nodded.
What happened next happened so fast that Paladin could barely process it, but one moment Ned was kneeling there, in front of Fíli, and the next a flash of silver was swinging from Sindri's hands and then Ned's body fell to the ground.
His head fell into Fíli's lap.
Paladin could hear his own horrified scream but it hardly felt real. Fíli's eyes were wider than Paladin had ever seen, and for once the blonde prince of Durin looked more like a kitten than a lion.
"You will pay for that," Glorfindel said in a low, solemn tone. "You will pay dearly for that."
"Go, Ulg." Sindri muttered.
Fíli was ripped up from the floor, his eyes still fixed on the severed head that tumbled onto the floor to land in the enormous, growing blood pool. The orcs pushed him away and Paladin was forced to follow, but the orcs had more control over his legs than he did.
He wondered if this was what his mother called 'shock'. His mind no longer seemed part of his body. He simply moved where the orcs directed him, and soon his was running in the opposite direction of his son. They were driven down the Old Forest Road, a path that ran all the way through the forest, far from the wood elves and straight into the very darkest depths of Mirkwood.
Estel could hear the shrieking, whooping orcs behind him and he was certain that he had never been so scared in his whole life. Still, he followed Glorfindel's instructions to the letter and then he saw it, the strange stone bridge passing over a little stream on the very edge of Mirkwood. On the other side of the stream was a decorative pillar standing before four different road forks heading into the forest.
"This way!" Estel tugged the young dwarf's sleeve, leading him through the stream.
Reaching up, Estel yanked himself and Pippin up out of the water into the tree.
"What're you doing?" the red-head cried.
"Come on, hurry!"
"But-"
Frustrated, Estel reached down and grasped the boy's collar, hurling him up into the tree. "Climb!"
The two boys scrambled further and further up the tree, and then Estel reached out to the next tree and swung into it. Pippin slipped down a little.
"Hang on!" Estel whispered. "Come on, dwarf!"
Swallowing, the dwarf clumsily followed. "What-"
"Shh!" Estel gestured, clambering up branch by branch.
As soon as he reached the top he reached down and pulled the dwarf boy up with him just as the orcs splashed across the river. Estel stayed very, very still, praying that he had picked a tree with enough leaves to shield them from view, should the orcs be shrewd enough to look up.
"Where did they go?" Shataaz snarled.
Estel covered Pippin's mouth with his hands and pushed a finger up to his own mouth, warning the dwarf to keep his mouth closed. The young red-head nodded and stared down at the orcs below.
"I bet they went this way," said a different orc.
"Nah, nah, that way," replied another.
"Alright," Ulg snapped. "Split up, cover each path!"
The hoard of orcs charged into the woods, and Estel stayed very, very still. He began to count in his head from one all the way up to a hundred. Then he breathed out.
"Thank the Valar…" he murmured.
"What are we doing?" the dwarf whispered back.
"Escaping," Estel replied quietly, taking his hand away from Pippin's mouth. "Are you alright, Pippin?"
"No," the little hobbit whimpered. "What about Papa, what if they hurt my Papa or Fíli or-"
"We can't think about that, Pippin," Estel hugged the shivering boy.
"They're going to, though," the dwarf protested. "They said they would, you saw what they did to Fíli!"
Estel took a deep breath. "Glorfindel told me what to do. If he told me that then he has a plan."
"A plan to do what?" the young dwarf's voice choked and he angrily dragged his arm across his face.
"What's your name?" Estel asked.
"Gimli, son of Glóin."
"I'm Estel. Have you ever heard of Glorfindel, Gimli?"
"No, I haven't-"
"Glorfindel's taken out a Balrog before, and he's half the reason that the kingdom of Angmar fell. I trust him with my life and I trust that he knows what he's doing."
A strange look came over Gimli's eyes. "I know what he's doing."
Estel frowned. "What do you mean?"
"I don't know the word for it in Common Tongue, but we call it ûhaskhajam-okilondin."
"What?" Pippin's eyebrows furrowed.
" Oo-ask-ah-jam… oh-ki-lon-din," Gimli said slowly, and Estel had the feeling that the repetition was more for Pippin's benefit than Estel's. "I don't know how to translate it exactly, but it's what adults do when there is no way of getting out of a bad situation. They save the children."
A chill slipped down Estel's spine. That made a frightening amount of sense.
"Gimli, is my Papa gonna die?" Pippin whimpered. "Are they going to kill Fíli?"
Gimli swallowed and looked at Estel hopelessly.
Closing his eyes, Estel lied. "No, Pippin. They'll be fine. We need to move, though."
"We need to go back!" Gimli urged. "Most of the orcs followed us, we can take the rest of them-"
"Pippin can't," Estel argued. "And yes, many followed us but there were scores of orcs and there's no way that we could take the rest of them. The best thing we can do is get help."
"And how are we going to do that? How are we supposed to meet up with the others, they're miles away?"
"We take the fifth road," said Estel firmly.
"The fifth road?" Gimli replied.
"That's what Glorfindel said," he nodded. "This place is like a back-door to Mirkwood, that leads to a hidden road with no name. It is not found on any maps, and it doesn't come close to the Elven Road or the Old Forest Road. It's designed to confuse anyone who is uninvited. There are four paths, the paths the orcs took. They twist and turn around each other and eventually lead back out. The fifth path is hidden, and through the northern area of the forest. At one point there's a fork that will take us straight to the kingdom of Mirkwood. We'll take the fifth path, find some elves and get help."
"Elves?"
"Yes, elves." Estel nodded. "Do you have a better idea?"
Gimli was quiet for a long moment. "Let's just go."
"I think now's a good time," Estel began to shuffle down the tree. "Hang on, Pippin."
"I'm hanging," the boy whispered miserably.
Landing lightly on his feet, Estel hurried to the boulder Glorfindel had sung of, the boulder covered in moss the colour of wine. "Quickly, Gimli!"
The boy fell to the bottom of the tree and scrambled after them. Estel lowered Pippin to the floor and laced his fingers together.
"Quick, climb up and over the boulder," he said to Gimli, and to his relief the dwarf followed his instructions to the letter. Unlike his clumsy ascent of the tree, Gimli scaled the huge boulder within seconds. Estel scooped Pippin off the floor and passed him up to Gimli, before climbing up himself.
On the other side of the boulder the trees were much thicker, and what little light they had garnered from the stars was all but drained away. There was so little light left that it would be a wonder if nobody twisted an ankle – at least.
They started to walk away, but then Pippin frowned.
"Aren't we gonna wait for Papa and Fíli?"
Estel hesitated. "No, Pippin, we have to go."
The toddler scowled fiercely and folded his arms. "No."
Estel swallowed. "Pippin-"
"No! I'm not leaving without my Papa and my Fíli! No." the toddler stamped his foot on the floor for good measure.
"Pippin, if we stay here, we'll be caught-"
"No!" Pippin began to raise his voice and tears sprung to his eyes.
"Pip," Gimli said quietly. "If we get caught things are going to be worse for Fíli and your Papa."
"But…but…"
The sound of rustling met Estel's ears and he froze, staring at Gimli. The young dwarf paused for a heartbeat and then dived forward, grabbing Pippin, covering his mouth and running. Estel followed and they sprinted down the path, heading further and further into the woods.
Every time they tried to slow something stopped them, so Estel and Gimli ran with everything they had. They ran down the path for hours and hours until they began to stumble, and by that time the sun was coming up.
The two boys collapsed against a huge tree, and Gimli shifted Pippin in his arms. He had removed his hand from the boy's mouth hours ago.
"He's asleep," the dwarf whispered, pulling his sleeve over his hand and wiping the sticky, half-dried tears and snot from Pippin's face. The boy frowned in his sleep, but otherwise he did not stir.
"You did the right thing," Estel panted.
Gimli snorted softly. "Did I? I carried a screaming, terrified toddler away from his parents and abandoned my cousin and friend to a fate that might end up being death – or worse!"
"We would be dead now if we hadn't run. If you hadn't grabbed Pippin." said Estel.
Gimli turned and stared at him. "Are you trying to convince me or you?"
Estel did not reply.
"We're going to die anyway."
"You don't know that." Estel argued.
"Don't I? We're in the middle of nowhere, in elven territory-"
"Now is not the time to be bigoted and stubborn, Gimli."
Gimli stared at him incredulously. "It's not being bigoted – I don't trust them and I have no reason to, not after all the things that elves have done-"
"What, like save the lives of your cousins after the Battle of the Five Armies?"
Gimli opened his mouth, his face twisted in fury, but then he paused. He closed his mouth and looked at the floor. "Let's not… let's not fight. I'm tired, Estel, and I'm sure you are too. It's…it's not your fault we're here. Not mine either."
Estel swallowed. "You're right. I'm sorry."
They paused.
"It was pretty impressive though. The way you managed to cut through all those bonds and stab the slimy bastard in the stomach."
A shadow of a smile twitched over Estel's cheeks. "Yeah?"
"Oh, yeah. Not bad at all for a man child raised by elves." Gimli smirked, but it was not a cruel expression.
Happily accepting the light teasing, Estel nodded. "You're not so bad yourself, for a beardless dwarfling."
Gimli frowned heavily. "Beardless?"
Estel smirked himself. "Well, those sideburns and stubble hardly count as a proper beard."
"Mark my words," Gimli grinned. "One day I'll have a beard more impressive than my own fathers, and then we'll see if you mock me."
"I'll be sure to buy you a razor."
The conversation trailed off and the boys' tired smiles began to slip away.
After a long moment, Gimli cleared his throat. "You wouldn't happen to have any food on you, would you?"
Estel shook his head. "I wish I did. I'm starving."
"Me too," Gimli patted Pippin's arm gently. "And as soon as he wakes up this little one will be starving. Hobbits always are."
"You know what," Estel looked at the sleeping infant. "We're going to make it, Gimli. We're going to make it out of these woods, we're going to get help, and we're going to make it to the mountain by Durin's day. You're going to grow that beard and I'm going to become a true ranger and Pippin's going to grow into those huge feet of his."
Gimli looked up at Estel, smiling slowly. "Agreed."
Estel grinned. "Then what do you say we get some food?"
"I say lead on!"
The two boys stood up, and though Estel's legs trembled with fatigue he stood up tall. Gimli shifted Pippin so that he was cradled in the dwarf's arms in a more comfortable looking position.
"Where do we find food?"
"Well, nothing that edible grows in Mirkwood, and what little does is usually stolen by the squirrels – wait, squirrels!"
"Squirrels?" Gimli wrinkled up his nose. "And you think you can catch one?"
"No, that's not what I meant," Estel narrowed his eyes, scouring the forest floor. "We are at least halfway through autumn, would you not agree?"
"Yes…" Gimli said slowly.
"Well," Estel walked to the base of a tree with good potential and crouched by its roots. "What do squirrels do in the autumn to prepare for winter?"
Gimli paused. "They… store food?"
"Exactly!" Estel grinned. "If we can find where a squirrel's been caching-"
"Catching?"
"Caching, it means hoarding, or hiding – anyway, if we find a squirrel's stash we might be able to find some edible nuts or seeds."
"Wonderful," Gimli muttered. "Living off nuts and seeds like a squirrel."
Estel raised an eyebrow. "Would you rather starve?"
"No, and I don't have any better ideas, but if all we're eating is nuts we'll probably starve anyway."
"It's temporary," Estel promised. "Aha!"
He swept the loose dirt away from the shallow hole and discovered a pile of nuts and seeds.
He closed his eyes. "None of them are edible. Not for us, anyway."
Gimli swore.
"Gimli?"
Estel's head snapped around to see Pippin yawning and stretching.
"Gimli, where's Papa?"
"I don't know," Gimli swallowed, glancing worriedly at Estel. "We have a good plan now, though, and when we reach the…elves… we'll be able to get help for your Papa and for Fíli and the elves and ranger. We've got to be brave now, Pippin."
The boy yawned. "Fine… brave… I can… be brave… Gimli, I'm hungry…"
"Now, Pippin, you don't need to worry or anything," Estel began. "But we don't have any food at the moment and-"
"I have food!" the toddler piped up.
Estel blinked. "Wait, you have food?"
Pippin nodded sleepily, tugging a half squashed loaf of lembas out of a back pocket. "The nice elf gave it to me."
"Which nice elf?" Estel wondered.
"The one who looks the same as the one with the blindfold," Pippin stretched out.
"Elladan?" Estel's heart quickened. "Pippin, this is very important, when did Elladan give you the lembas?"
Pippin frowned. "When the nasty orcs were pushing us through the woods. There were other orcs pushing him the other way but when I falled over he falled over too and gave me the food. He said something but the orcs took him 'way before I could hear."
Estel swallowed. So Elladan had been alive and moving when they had been smearing blood over Elrohir's face – that was a good sign. Was it not?
"Here y'go," Pippin yawned again, holding out the packet.
Estel took the leaf-clad lembas. A hasty symbol had been smeared onto the leaf in what appeared to be blood, but Estel could not decipher it. It was far too smudged, and he did not think that he recognised any of it. Deciding not to dwell on it, he broke off a small piece and handed it to Gimli.
"Try it."
Gimli obliged happily, looking up after a few moments in shock. "What is that?"
"Lembas," Estel had to smile. "Elven way-bread. Like cram, but it tastes better and fills you up more. Do you need anymore?"
"Not yet," Gimli shook his head happily. "We should ration it."
Estel nodded, satisfying his own hunger in two bites. "Agreed. Pippin, here you go."
The toddler devoured his own share and blinked his sleepy eyes at Estel. "'s there anymore?"
"Are you still hungry?" Estel was surprised. Then again, he had expected the toddler to have a smaller stomach than his own so he had only given him a small piece. He broke off a similar sized piece so that Pippin could have the same amount as Estel and Gimli had consumed.
"That's yummy," Pippin licked his lips. "Still hungry, though."
Estel went to break off another piece, but Gimli shook his head. "Oh no, don't fall into that trap! He'll have it all gone in a heartbeat. This little monster could eat his way out of a whole barrel full of lembas."
Estel smiled at Pippin's pout. "Alright then. We should get some sleep. I'll take first watch?"
"Just a few hours," Gimli warned. "We need to move out soon. Get help."
"I know," Estel nodded. "But we'll get nowhere if we don't rest."
Gimli sank down to the ground and wedged himself in between the roots of a huge tree. It took him only minutes to drift off to sleep, and soon the other boy was snoring lightly. Little Pippin was soon asleep, too, drifting away next to Gimli. Estel took out the knife he had taken from Sindri.
It was covered in grime and blood – both old and knew. He should wash it.
Amarth faeg! He cursed silently. They had no water. The rivers and streams in Mirkwood were, for the most part, completely undrinkable until you reached the inner city guarded by Thranduil's walls.
With nothing to drink Estel knew that he would last four days or so, maybe a couple more thanks to the Dúnedain blood that ran through his veins. Dwarves were highly resilient folk, and Gimli might be so lucky as to survive for a couple of weeks, but there was no telling how long Pippin would last. While hobbits were surprisingly hardy, Pippin was a toddler. By Estel's estimate he would be lucky to last four days.
They needed help.
Sighing, Estel set about cleaning the blade, hoping that it might clear his weary mind. With every smear of blood and grime he transferred to his trousers the blade grew shinier – it looked far too good a quality to have been made by the orcs that held it. It had probably belonged to some poor soul who had suffered a raid at some point or another.
Well, he had a knife. If nothing else, he had a knife.
Estel wondered if Elladan was alright. He would give both of his arms if it meant seeing the twins and Glorfindel now, but there was no one around to make such a deal with. Instead, he was lost in the middle of what was arguably the most dangerous elven forest in Middle Earth far from the actual settlement with an adolescent dwarf and baby hobbit.
A man, a dwarf and a halfling walk into a forest, he thought. Sounds like the beginning of a bad joke…
I hope you enjoyed that chapter, despite the angst-ness :D
Poor Ned. Dude only appears in a few chapters for a few paragraphs and then he's dead. Kudos to anyone who can guess his namesake – he suffers a similar fate in another fantasy realm and is played by an actor with strong ties to Tolkien's world.
Fun Fact – I made up Gimli's Khuzdul phrase (ûhaskhajam-okilondin) by mingling the Neo-Khuzdul (as according to the Dwarrow Scholar) words for sacrifice, children and steward (in the sense of a caretaker) On a similar note, Estel's elvish curse (Amarth Faeg) is Sindarin for 'Evil fate'
Please do leave a review and let me know what you think, I'd love to hear your opinions!
Thanks for reading!
