Lord of the Rings Fanfic- The Tale of Evelyn

Arrival at Lothórien

I stared at the crackling flames, throwing occasional glances at the knocked out Fellowship. Muttering about Fellowships these days, I resisted the urge to let out a yawn. Feeling in need of water, I glanced around to see if the coast was clear and tread carefully on the grass towards a small brook that snaked around our camp. Creeping softly towards the bank of the stream, I knelt down and cupped my hands, scooping up the cool, crystalline water. Lifting it towards my face, I prepared to douse my face with it but then stopped. Startled, I stared at my reflection which had drastically changed. I had never paid much attention to my looks before but the woman staring back at me couldn't possibly be me.

Her eyes were inflamed with drowsiness and dirt and grime was smeared on her face like a second skin. Her once dark, lustrous locks were now matted from sweat and covered with dust. Shaking my head, I ignored my reflection and splashed the water on my face. After completing the task of washing my face, I wiped the drops of water off my face with my sleeve, which probably added more dirt to my face, but at least my eyelids didn't feel so heavy anymore.

Sprinting lightly, I made my way to the camp and resumed the dull task of first watch. By the time Aragorn actually felt like helping, I was tempted to throw myself into the stream.

Rubbing my sore eyes, I staggered towards one of the vacant blankets and collapsed upon it. Nothing else feel more blissful than the feeling of the warm, soft material beneath my head which felt like a boulder by this point. Before I could even force out a laugh at Aragorn's fate with second watch, darkness consumed my vision and sleep claimed me as one of its own.

***

My brother snarled, his face shining with determination.

Staring at him unblinkingly, I wiped the sweat off my brow. The sun was considerably hot today, sending its golden rays upon our fair city. However, I had no time to think about scenery or any foolish things like that. This fight was all that mattered.

Taking the first move, my brother lunged at me, swiping his sword at my neck, where the life pumping artery was. Anticipating the blow, I ducked out of harm's reach and gave my brother a hard shove to his back. Stumbling, my brother skidded to a stop and whirled around.

His face was red with anger now, which I privately thought made him look more like a tomato than a mighty prince of Shanelor. My brother always boasted about his sword fighting skills and gave himself fancy airs like he was the king, but as far as I was concerned, he lacked both the skill and brains to be a king.

Pushing away my thoughts, I made my next move. Aiming a sharp thrust to my brother's side, I spun around as he was occupied with parrying my thrust and smacked my brother's head with the hilt of my blade. I confess that I hit a little too hard. Instead of being dazed, my brother's eyes rolled back into his head and he collapsed like dead weight on the ground. However, a victory was a victory.

Enveloped in wild cheers, I raised my head in triumph and made a small bow. I watched as the guards carried the limp body of my brother towards the infirmary. Pushing back the tugging feeling of guilt, I looked up at my father in the first row of seats who gave me a smile of pride. Nearby, my other brother and my mother looked at me coldly and swept out of the arena. My sister, Danalia joined in the applause, but her light blue eyes flashed with concern.