The Unforgiven { Legolas x OC - LotR Fanfiction}

Rohirrim

"They are proud and willful, but they are true-hearted, generous in thought and deed; bold but not cruel; wise, but unlearned, writing no books, but singing many songs, after the manner of the children of Men before the Dark Years. '' Aragorn, The Two Towers

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Dawn was upon the group of three. The sun rose redder, by every minute. Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli debated last night if they should rest or continue following the Uruk-Hai. They agreed that they were tired enough, and they needed a rest. After a good rest, they were on their feet again running. Aragorn paused to gaze ahead, and Legolas stopped next to him. Eastward they saw the windy uplands of the Wold of Rohan that they had already glimpsed many days ago. Northwestward stalked the dark forest of Fangorn; still, ten leagues away stood its shadowy eaves, and its further slopes faded into the distant blue.

Aragorn saw a shadow in the distance, and Legolas noted it too. While Aragorn was trying to identify the blurred shadow, Legolas shading his bright elven eyes with his long, slender hand could see small figures of horsemen. Far behind them, a dark smoke rose in thin curling threads. Silence overtook the place for a brief moment.

"Riders! Many riders on swift steeds are coming towards us!" wailed Aragorn as he spanked on his feet.

"Yes! There are one hundred and five. Yellow is their hair, and bright are their spears. Their leader is very tall. There are three empty saddles, but I see no hobbits, from where I stand." added Legolas.

"Keen are the eyes of the Elves." Aragorn smiled.

"Nay! The riders are little more than five leagues distant!" Legolas informed them. He could see them riding closer by the minute.

"We cannot escape them in this bare land. What shall we do?" Gimli asked, looking at Aragorn and the Elf.

Aragorn took notice of the boulders. He spoke "These horsemen are riding back down the trail. We may get news from them. Let's hide and wait for them."

The wind was thin and searching. The company of three hid, wrapping their cloaks about them. The time passed slowly and heavily, as a large group of horsemen appeared in the distance. They were riding like the wind. Now the cries of clear, strong voices came ringing over the fields. The horses seemed great, like a unique breed and the men who rode them seemed equally special. They were tall and long-limbed. Their faces were stern and keen. In their hands were tall spears of ash, and long swords were at their belts.

The host had almost passed when suddenly Aragorn stood up, and called in a loud voice "Riders of Rohan, what news from the Mark?"

Suddenly, the rider's skill and speed came charging around. The team of three found themselves in a circle, as the riders surrounded them round and round drawing ever inwards. Without a word they halted. A thicket of spears was pointed towards the strangers. Next one of the riders, the one that was taller than the rest, stepped ahead.

Éomer cried "What business does an elf, a man and a dwarf have in the Riddermark?" The Rider still sitting on his horse and casting strange looks at them. "Speak Quickly!" he demanded.

Gimli, who was gazing at him responded "Give me your name, horse-master, and I shall give you mine." He rose and planted his feet firmly apart, still gazing at the tall man.

Éomer leaped from his horse. He drew his sword and gave his spare to another rider. Then he walked towards Gimli, while Aragorn placed his hands over Gimli's shoulder. "I would cut off your head... dwarf... if it stood but a little higher from the ground." The rider cried, staring down at the Dwarf.