The Ranger at Weathortop

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Hello! Yes you, Hi! Thanks so much for reading. Ok, now on with the story, oh and once again this chapter is to one of my followers Bonitacourteny2006, thank you once again (:

 It didn't take me very long to find something to wear in the troll hoard. I found a very old yet still in ok condition dark green dress. It was tight, long and uncomfortable but when I strapped the sword to it made it appear more powerful. I rehanged into my usual attire, (Which I noted was heavier but familiar.) and strapped the sword which was called Aeglos to my saddle pulling my saddle bag over the top to conceal it. I mounted before the others and rode Tao around in circles. I flash of white caught my eye. I looked again but it was gone. I replayed what I saw in my head. It was horse I was certain, but the rider moved in a way that I could not describe. Elegant, was what it was, but it was so much more then that. Khamul and the others rode up to me and without stopping I joined in. Night was falling and I immediately new that the hobbits would be more revealing in the darkness. We rode around but continued to move east toward the weather top. Khamul stiffened when he saw it. I remember reading about it in secret. This was where the Witch King of Angmar had gained his name. There, he had been defeated and punished by my father. The city itself had been burned down so now what remained was only some ruined walls. That's when we saw it. A fire followed by some screams of destress. Without hesitation we galloped there letting the terror we unleased run freely. We arrived at the bottom and dismounted.
"Stay" said Khamul firmly.
"NO!" I shot back
"If they are alone up there then whoever has been helping them will arrive."

I had no choice but to agree. I watched as the others went up the stairs drawing there blades in unison. I did the same noting the difference of my back sword to the one belonging to gil galad. I made sure my hood was low over my face and stood taller at the entrance. My ears were alerted to the sound of footsteps behind me. I swiveled saw a figure walking out of the darkness. He was clad in a green robe, worn boots and had a weather-beaten face. He looked at my and drew his sword with tremendous speed that I knew already he was skilled in combat. He charged and I caught a look in his eyes. Determination. Something that I only saw in my eyes. I was so surprised that when he went to hit me I only gave him a sloppy block. Angry at myself that I was not better, I lunged fast. He was surprisingly well prepared and blocked every stab that had given him. To my surprise I realized that the ranger was better then me. He wielded his blade so fast that I could only block. Then he went so fast and hard, that the force knocked me back. To my horror he came over to and put his sword to my throat.

"Who are you?" This is it. I thought, I'll die in the hands of some ranger. When I didn't answer  and look of pity went through his eyes as he lowered his sword then sprinted up the stair case to where I could hear shouts from the halflings. I got up and watched his figure in the darkness as he grabbed a burning log from the fire and ran up the stairs. I suddenly felt worried for the wraiths. I was a better swordswoman then them but I had just been beaten by whom was going to attack them. I watched, the man made quick work of each of them, leaving them screaming as there robes burnt. They ran messily down the stairs and ignored me as they pated themselves until they were only smoking a little. They did not hang around though, I was the last to join them as they galloped away from the weather top.

We only rode a few miles until we dismounted and hid in the scrub watching the road.

"You didn't get the ring." I summed up. Khamul scowled.
"I stabbed the bearer with a morgal blade. I think a fragment is still embedded into the wound. Soon he will hand the ring to us. Might have had a better chance if you had aided me."
I scowled back. The real reason I hadn't helped is I was awe and hate of the ranger. I was so lucky though that my hood hadn't come off. Khamul was angry. He had been showed defeat again at the same place and his men had been defeated there with fire only days before, and now his best friend and warrior had been outmatched and the ring once again out of his grasp. He communicated with a series of grunts and points that some how told everyone to take watch. I found some rocks to sit against and began to fiddle with the ring on my finger. It often sat there forgotten, only being an ally to me. It pained me, the scabs on my hands reminded me that I was not magical, I was a failure to my father and my only skill had been combat that I had now been out graded. I felt weaker then I had ever felt before. A tear rolled down my cheek. I cried very little the but the feeling in my stomach was familiar. If Khumal saw, he pretended not to notice. I realization hit me, I didn't love Khamul anymore. Maybe it wasn't love after all. At the time I didn't know. Then I thought I knew and then it didn't matter. The thought made me feel lonely but I only added it to the pool of emotions that pounded on my head and my heart. I fell asleep with tears in my eyes and dreamt of myself holding hands in Mordor with a faceless figure.


DUHN DUHN DUHHHN. (Not really)  have a great day💖 

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