Hood » LotR ((ON HOLD))

Chapter Two: I Sold It

Robin woke up to voices.

And pain.

Mordor, his head hurt.

He almost groaned aloud but held back, keeping his breaths steady and body still, despite the headache pounding through his temples.

The voices were only a few feet away, carrying on like nobody's buisness. Robin tensed slightly, straining to pick up their words.

"Real nice knocking him out, Thralor! I swear, if he dies--"

"Don't put this on me!" A deep voice interrupted, ringing with indignation. "Maybe if you and the elf wouldn't have let him run for it--"

"Be quiet, both of you!" A female voice cut through the air. "Gimli, he's unconscious, not dead. And Thralor, lay of Legolas for once!"

Robin almost winced at her tone.

Bloody hell, if these were his captors, he almost wished this Thralor had knocked him into the grave. The voices continued, rising in volume.

"By Durin, I'm not picking on the elf! I just think if he's so cunning--"

"Quiet," A soft voice cut the speaker off and Robin froze. "He's awake."

Curse Saruman in his very grave.

For a split second, Robin contemplated faking unconsciousness for a little longer-- but then he decided against it.

Instead, he let loose the loud groan that had been building up in his throat. Bloody hell how hard had the orcish figure hit him?

"I told you he wasn't dead."

At that, the female voice huffed, "Valar. You know what? I'll be back."

"Where are you going?!"

"To clear my head of this madness. And unless you want an arrow through the gut, don't follow me."

As the footsteps faded, Robin risked cracking an eyelid open-- and stared right into the sharp blue eyes of the tallest cloak figure. 

He cursed and all eyes snapped to him.

"Nay, definitely not dead."

Biting back another curse, Robin struggled into a sitting position, his head pounding harder.

His wrists were bound tightly behind him, but the ropes didn't worry him. He had experience with knots-- and he loved a challenge.

Robin took his time getting situated. Then he leaned back, grinning at his captors and tossing brown hair out of his eyes. "Well, isn't this just a lovely way to make new friends."

Pure silence met his words.

"Mordor," Robin frowned, arching an eyebrow. "Tough crowd." 

There was still no answer, although their eyes narrowed dangerously. They didn't seem to appreciate his humor.

So much for that. Sighing loudly, Robin took in his captors, shifting on the ground.

The two beside the lithe figure were short, and the female was gone. They all still had their hoods on, but red hair spilled out from the two short ones hoods.

Robin narrowed his eyes. 

Either they were dwarves or hobbits, but judging from the force of whichever figure had knocked him out and their gruff tones, he assumed dwarves.

Valar, he loved the dwarves.

Suddenly the taller figure stepped forward, pushing down his own hood. Blonde hair fell around his shoulders, pointed ears protruding through his braids.