Hope - A Lord Of The Rings Chronicle

Worse than Radagast

I woke up later than anyone else this morning, but then again, that was to be expected. I had been crying heavily last night.

The camp was silent, and I could tell they were all thinking, looking, watching me. Waiting for me to slip up and cry. I couldn't be the weakling of the group. I had to show them I was strong enough. I sniffed, my hay fever playing up and rubbed my nose. Once I got up, I made my way over to the stream and washed my face, getting rid of all the dirt and dust that had seeped into the crevices.

I re-tied my boisterous, puffy hair into a bun, and walked back toward the Fellowship. I observed Aragorn sheating his sword, Gandalf gathering his staff and Frodo toward him, and Legolas helping Sam saddle Bill. Pain, anxiety, depression: that's all that flowed through me. I was beginning to fade away again.

Maybe I never had stopped after all.

My eyeline faltered. I scratched my arm. Time to head back. I rejoined the group, shouldering my pack, and looking up ahead to the sun beyond, it's waves blinding my eyes. It was suppose to help. To give me hope. But it didn't.

We set off, once again.

The days blended into the nights, and slowly, I forgot. I pushed back everything that had threatened to resurface. I was in control. But for how much longer? I could not deny, that my situation was growing increasingly precarious, and by each day it grew worse. I began to have those thoughts again, thoughts I thought I'd conquered, but I hadn't.

The Fellowship and I walked along the plains of Middle Earth, growing closer by the second. My mind strayed into depressing realms that no mind should stray, but my friendship with the four hobbits relieved me of their plight. Merry and Pippin and I had many joyous times together, times which I relished, and found myself going over and over again in my mind.

Aragorn had begun his lessons in swordsmanship, always on the grass, so if I stumbled it wouldn't hurt...so much. The first night in which we had practiced, the fire was flickering, and I had walked up to Aragorn with my sword, who was feasting on stew, lingering near him somewhat determinedly and somewhat awkwardly.

"I'm ready." I said to him
He nodded, and grabbed his own. He took us to a patch of grass, and unsheathed his longsword.
"Unsheath your sword."
I took off Galad from my belt, and held him upward in front of me.
"First, you need to learn the basics." He begins before commanding "Stand up straight."
I correct my posture.
"Shoulders back."
I push them back.
"Good. One foot in front of the other."

I lunge forward.
"Perfect. Now hold it."
"What?" I was already starting to wobble
"Hold it. When you bare a sword, your body needs to have enough stamina. Because you have never done this before, we need to build up your strength."
"Okay." I breathe heavily. The Ranger smirks
"Don't worry. It gets easier."

I pulled a face at him.

"Don't lie."

He chuckled and I nod, struggling to hold my breath. Galad begins to get heavier and heavier, and I wobble.
"Aragorn..."
"Hold on Raina, just a few more seconds."
I inhaled and exhaled heavily.
"One, two...three!"
"Ohhhh!" I groan, collapsing onto the floor.
"You did well." Aragorn said but I shook my head in disbelief.
"You did. Merry and Pippin didn't last one second."

I smirked fondly at the two hobbits, who were watching some distance away.
"Position!" Aragorn called sharply
I re-found my footing.
"Good." He smiles, before holding his own sword up "When you hold a sword, you put your right hand on top, and your left on the bottom."
I grip it tightly
"Like this?" I ask. He nods.
"Yes. Now, try and strike me."
I blink.
"Ummm...ok."
I move the sword forward, but before I even get it anyway near him, he blocks me.
"Woah." I breathe but then pain registers up my arm "ow!"
"Sorry." Aragorn says, repositioning "Try again."