Hood » LotR ((ON HOLD))

Chapter One: Hood

Robin's first mistake had been stealing the King's sword.

His second had been selling it for anything less than a thousand gold coins.

And his third might have been allowing the King's most trusted friends catch his trail.

Robin had been on the run for days. He was tired, he was hungry, and his legs felt like molten lead. 

He had decided.

He absolutely hated running.

He had hoped that if he retreated deep enough into Chetwood, then perhaps his pursuers would finally give up. 

But either they had the resolve of an Oliphaunt or they were positive Robin wasn't going to last much longer. 

And if it was the latter, he grudgingly realized they were right. 

He was tired and worn down, despite having a much higher tolerance to long periods without sleep or food. 

He needed a bloody break. 

Or a drink.

Robin had turned course a day ago and was now heading for Bree. If he was lucky enough, perhaps he would be able to get lost in the crowd, then make his escape.

Or at the very least, he'd go down with an ale in hand and a smile on his face.

His bow jostled on his shoulders and his leather boots padded on the snowy forest floor as he picked up his pace, starting at a run once more. 

His breaths came out in puffy gasps, his cloak doing little to keep him warm. But at the very least, it kept his face hidden and his body hidden with forest surroundings.

By far, his elven cloak was the best item he had stolen.

Robin hadn't been in Hobbit country for years. He had only dropped by a handful of times; he didn't take from the small and innocent. 

The day he had turned down the thieving path, he had made that oath. 

He only took from those he deemed worthy. Such as the King, on his high and mighty pedestal.

King Aragorn.

The name tasted sour in his mouth.

"It's time."

Robin stepped forward from his mother's side, his hands clenched. He forced tears away, gazing into his father's blue eyes. "Please stay."

His father looked from his mother, down to him, then knelt by his side, his long black hair falling around his face. 

His eyes glimmered with a determination, but also a pain.  

A sadness.

"I must go, ion-nin. Evil cannot be allowed to roam free any longer, I must do my part. But I shall be back, I promise."

"I can fight," Robin begged, trying to keep his voice from cracking. "I can help, I can stand alongside the armies. Saes, adar. Let me fight!"

"No, Wilin." His father's voice was firm. "You must stay here and watch over your naneth. If the orc armies take Minas Tirith, you must travel with her south of Gondor. You must keep her safe, promise me."

Robin looked up through his tears, taking in his father's determined face. He clenched his jaw, nodding tightly. "I promise, Ada. I shall."

His father forced a laugh, ruffling his hair. "Indeed you are my son, my little robin. Be brave, be strong. I shall see you and your mother soon."