You've undoubtedly heard the tale of Robin Hood, but what if I was to tell you they got it all wrong?
First of all, Robin is female.
{All characters other than my own belong to J. R. R. Tolkien}
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
___
Another one dead.
Pardon me for turning into Betty the buzzkill, but it seems as though death seems to mock me at each destination.
First Boromir, now Theodred.
Who's next?
Men and women of Rohan form a crowd outside the wooden gates of Edoras, each head bowed in despair as the body of Theoden's son is carried towards his burial sight. With the atmosphere as heavy as a woollen blanket, yet the sharp wind drying many teary eyes, I can't seem to lift my gaze, even as Theodred's cold body is placed into his earthy grave.
Eowyn's melodic voice sounds from my side as she sings a song of farewell, yet the humming in my head deafens my mind to the sounds which surround me.
So much suffering... so much pain inflicted upon all these helpless people... and why?
Because there are monsters amidsts these lands who benefit from such evil.
My jaw clenches as the image of Saruman's once comforting face appears in my mind, but now all I see is a coward. All I can picture is a gutless serpent who lacks faith in humanity, hence giving into the tempation and false security of Sauron.
The wizard knows of my backstory, where I have come from and the trauma I faced as a child, yet decided to discard the knowledge of pain in which the creatures he now creates have, and will inflict on helpless children as my younger self? Now adding to that is the fact that he is culling the ents?
Saruman is dead to me.
Lifting my gaze, I notice that the crowd has started to part, the light murmuring from individuals suggesting that the funeral has finished.
Placing my hand on Eowyn's shoulder, I give it a slight pat, before her glazed eyes meet mine.
She pulls me into another solid hug, and I let out a sigh, resting my head on her hard shoulder.
"We are going to kick evil's ass." I mutter in an attempt to lift both mine and Eowyn's dampened spirits.
•
•
The mouth watering smell of roasted mutton fills the great hall of Edoras, yet I am not hungry. Instead, my focus lies on the two children who sit at the wooden table two metres from where I stand. Whilst examining their tattered clothing and grubby faces, I can't help but picture my younger self.
I raise an eyebrow as the boy turns his head to observe me for the six-hundredth time, before quickly flinching away and shoveling another spoon of soup into his mouth.
