Dorwinion, lying northwest of the Sea of Rhûn, held mysteries to many of Middle Earth's western inhabitants. Few dared wander so far into the desert, crawling with cutthroats, slave traders, and other shadowy characters.
Robin didn't want to be back. More than anything, he didn't want to be back.
The largest city of Dorwinion had no name in the Gondorian tongue, but Robin had heard in one of the taverns that it translated to one simple word; death.
If that wasn't a message of warning, he didn't know what was.
The city itself wasn't magnificent. Gates of sandstone surrounded the interior, though whether it was to keep strangers out or the inhabitants in, Robin figured it was the latter. There might have once been grand towers and watchtowers, but time and the scathing hot wind had worn them down, so now the city seemed to be on the verge of crumbling apart.
Glancing upward from his huddled spot in the corner of his cage, he watched the front gates approach, a lump forming in his throat. He kept one hand on his wounded shoulder, the other gripping the dagger he'd had hidden in his sleeve.
If there was a time to use it, he was sure it would rear its head soon. But not now; not surrounded by an entire encampment of desert men.
Shifting himself into a more comfortable position-- as comfortable as he could get-- he slipped the blade back into his boot.
The cart slowly rolled to a stop. Robin watched as the boy-leader rode forward on his horse, reining to a stop feet from the gate. He shouted something, but the words lost in translation.
There was another shout that answered and the boy called something sharply back. For a moment, silence was his answer, then two armed men appeared on the other side of the wall, pulling the gate open. It creaked and groaned in movement.
Closing his eyes, Robin felt his heart sink. He never thought he'd regret a mission, but he was starting to wish he'd never stolen Aragorn's sword.
Their caravan started up again, moving into the city. As the gates closed at his back, Robin swore he heard death cackling.
Billows of red curtains went over the streets, providing a little bit of shade for the thick throng of merchants and customers that crowded the street. The cart rumbled and bumped along as they started deeper into the city-- people turned and stared.
Most of the looks were that of interest but some were sympathetic. Robin didn't notice many outsiders, though he wasn't surprised. Dark-skinned men and women dressed in tunics and wrapped dresses of vibrant colors watched the proceedings, their gazes boring into where he sat as they passed by.
He set his jaw, face tight. Then, shaking his hair around his ears, Robin slumped back, glaring up at the blazing sun.
He wondered if Legolas had managed to find the others yet. If they were all safe. How Elanor was doing. Hopefully, Legolas would be able to figure out how to get the rest of them out of the city.
The moment the plan of action during their fight had formed in his mind, Robin was sure he was a genius. But the minute he'd thrown himself in front of the elf's sword, he'd realized he was actually an idiot.
Then, upon being knocked out and waking to having his identity outed, he realized he was a dead man. Or elf, as they now knew.
The carts were side-by-side now, as the street narrowed. Robin grunted in pain as his own hit a sharp rock, jarring his shoulder.
"Hood."
Snapped out of his thoughts of demise, Robin glanced up. Aragorn leaned close to the bars of the cage that he and Aria shared, eyes snapping to the riders ahead and then back to him. Robin pushed himself up, groaning. "That's my name."
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Hood » LotR ((ON HOLD))
Fanfiction❝ Hood. Robin Hood, at your service. ❞ Robin wasn't sure how he managed to get caught in the middle of a war. Perhaps it was stealing King Elessar's sword. Or maybe his past and the price on his head just finally caught up to him. But when Robin's l...
