Chapter Fourteen: Gwath

484 48 94
                                    

Robin closed his eyes as he felt his naneth's fingers comb gently through his hair, pulling little strands into a braid. A forlorn, haunting tune filled the air as his adar plucked strings of his harp, mixing with the crackling of the fireplace.

It was peaceful... almost too peaceful.

Robin didn't want it to end.

But suddenly the fingers were gone. It was the smoke filling his nose and screams that made Robin's eyes snap open, leaping to his feet among the ashes. 

His father's bow was slung over his shoulders, his quiver long since gone empty. Boots covered in ash, Robin could only stare at the desolation of the village he had once called home. Bodies littered the ground, both orc and human.

Elven. One corpse was elven.

His father's voice echoed through Robin's ears, making him vow to keep an eye on his mother. On his mother and unborn sister.

Robin had sworn; he would never let them come to harm.

He had failed.

"Hood! Valar, Hood, get up!"

It took Robin a second to realize he really smelled smoke. Eyes snapping open, he sat up suddenly, his head spinning as blood rushed to his temples. "What in bloody--"

"No time. Take this."

Blinking, Robin allowed his eyes to adjust to the growing darkness, realizing that it was Elanor who pushed a torch into his hand, her emerald eyes catching the fading sun. She almost looked... afraid?

Then it all came flooding back.

"Wolves," he gripped the torch, his free hand flying to the gash on his head. But his fingers only met bandages, which were slightly damp. "What--?"

"Not wolves."

Pushing himself to his feet with a groan, Robin glanced toward Aria's voice, who held her bladed long staff in a white-knuckled grasp. "Not... wolves?"

"It's not possible," Elrohir interrupted, shaking his head. "The werewolf race fell ages ago. Those that might have survived would be dispersed, there are few that could rally them together."

"Well, it would be just our luck," Aragorn's voice was tight.

Robin didn't look all the way over at the king, afraid he wouldn't be able to control his mouth if he did. His head pounded so hard, he couldn't tell what was torchlight and what were stars dancing before his eyes. He could already feel bruises forming across his chest, a dull stinging every time he ever breathed.

"Neither you nor Hood will be much use if we are attacked," Gimli glanced apologetically at Aragorn. "No offense, laddie."

Aragorn pressed his lips firmly together but nodded. From the corner of his eye, Robin noticed his shoulder was bandaged and already, his nose and left eye were turning blue. 

Putrid orc.

"The horses," Robin's words seemed to startle the others, as if they forgot he was even back into consciousness. Pressing his palm against his head, Robin tried to blink away stars. "They'll bolt."

Suddenly, another howl cut through the night, much closer than Robin remembered before he passed out. Gripping his torch tighter, he held back a curse. 

"He is not wrong," Legolas glanced around. "We need to..."

"We need to bring the fight to them," Aria interrupted, making Robin blink in surprise. He didn't know the raven-haired woman was capable of so many words. "Fight on our own terms."

Hood » LotR ((ON HOLD))Where stories live. Discover now