𝟐𝟒. the golden woods

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°∴,*⋅✲✦ ( ♕ ) ✦✲⋅*,∴°

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 age of shadow

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24. the golden woods «•« ━━━━

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ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ third age ━━ year 3019

𓇻 lothlórien; northern border

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THE RAW PAIN GNAWING AT HER INSIDES FELT LIKE A SICKNESS. As though something foul and unnatural had entered her soul and refused to release her. Her heart throbbed with unbearable pain when hearing the cries of the Hobbits and Gimli's angry shouts as Boromir tried to prevent him from marching back into those mines. Even Legolas' dazed silence was too much to bear. It felt like all of their fire, all of their perseverance had gone down to the dark depths together with Gandalf...Even thinking of his name made her feel like a knife was pushed into her heart, over and over again.

She blinked her tears away and raised her hand to wipe away the remaining drops of salt lingering on her ivory cheeks. Only then did she realize she was still holding Aragorn's hand. Her entire body begged for her to abandon all reason and collapse into his embrace. Instead of giving in to that urge though, she inhaled deeply and let go of his hand. But his touch had been the last small thing keeping her grounded. Now, her thoughts were desperately searching for something to hold on to. Something that made sense in this whirlwind of emotions that were trying to pull her down. Then she caught sight of Aragorn's wounded forehead, the one she'd been prevented from treating when the orcs regrouped.

"Sit," she ordered the Ranger, her voice void of emotion.

He frowned at her. "There's no-"

"Sit!" she repeated, already knowing what he'd been about to say and deciding it was an idiotic excuse.

𝐀 𝐁𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐀𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐁𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐆𝐋𝐎𝐑𝐘 ― aragornWhere stories live. Discover now