𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐫𝐨𝐰𝐧𝐬 ➵︎ [ 𝘭𝘦𝘨𝘰𝘭𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘧 ]

4| the cold

The sun had not yet climbed to its highest peak as the Fellowship rested upon a stone mountain overlooking a valley of stone and tree, wisps of fog and cloud pouring from the mountain like my breath from my lips on the iciest of winters.

The sky was drab and grey, and large sharp rocks protruded from the ground like the knives and arrowheads on the remnants of a battlefield.

I stood upon a ledge, looking down at Boromir, who was in the midst of teaching Merry and Pippin on how to use their swords, their clash of metal ringing throughout the valley. As much as I didn't want to admit it, it was certainly kind of Boromir to do this, as there would yet be many times when an extra pair of swords would serve us well.

A slight breeze rippled through my clothes, and I wrapped my cloak tighter around my body.

"Move your feet," advised my brother, his pipe in his mouth.

I quietly watched over them, listening as their radiant laughter rang out into the morning air. 

As I peered out far over the valley, Sam approached me.

"Sausages, m'lady?"

I sent him a small smile.

"No, thank you." I kindly refused. "But I'm sure Aldion wouldn't mind having one."

Sam glanced at Aldion, who stared intently at the plate of meat, his tongue hanging from his mouth. Sam just chuckled, before tossing the wolfhound a sausage. Aldion instantly caught the piece of meat in his jaws, before padding away in satisfaction. 

Sam sent me a nod before going to offer more people sausages.

I shot a glance at Frodo. The small hobbit tasked with such a monumental responsibility. 

He held so much mirth in his eyes as he watched his companions fight. The knowledge that this journey could suck it all out like a leech plagued my mind.

For even from here, I could sense the swirling darkness, spiraling out from the forsaken tower like a tendril of pure icy evil, seeking to constrict the life out of all that is living.

But there was something else. And it was nearing us by the second.

Shouldering my bow and quiver, I approached Aldion. His ears were perked, sniffing the air as if he too could sense something...off.

"No dirweg (be watchful)." I whispered to him.

His fur bristled, a small growl reverberating from his throat.

I sprang upon the large rock that Legolas was perched on, overlooking the valley before us, his eyes surveying the land like a hawk.

"Do you feel that?" He questioned, his eyes never straying from ahead.

I nodded.

"It is as if the sun grew colder." I confirmed. "Something is coming."

Sam joined me, peering at what seemed to be a dark shape in the sky.

"What is that?" He asked.

Indeed, I thought as I narrowed my eyes, peering out at the dark mass in the sky. Something was definitely wrong with that cloud.

Gimli squinted.

"Nothing, it's just a whiff of cloud." He dismissed.

I would have agreed with Gimli if it weren't for the fact that within the "cloud", I could make out small shapes.

"It's moving fast...against the wind." observed Boromir, as he too frowned.

My senses told me to run, to hide, and what Legolas said next only confirmed it.