Shadow Hunter-LegolasxOC

Side Story: A Tale in the Mountain (Part 2)

Varilerin waited patiently until all the men had embarked to Erebor alongside the Elves. Her mind worked tirelessly to think of how to persuade the townsmen to seek refuge from the imminent doom.

In all chaos and problems, there must be a leader to take care of the people, she mused, remembering how in most of her past missions with the rangers, Ruindoldir had voluntarily took charge of the company for many years without an official appointment from Elrond—he eventually earned the title, as befitting his abilities. Varilerin's eyes darted from one townsman to the next, lingered on the one called Alfrid for a moment before regarding him as too pompous to lead the men, before she saw a woman managing the infirmary.

"Excuse me," Varilerin said, sneaking behind her such that only when she spoke did the woman realise that she was there.

"Heaven's sake! Do not scare me like that, lad!" she gasped. She studied Varilerin briefly, from her head to her toe, and then scrunched her face in suspicions. "What do you want, sir? Can't you see we're busy?"

"I need your help to tell the townsmen to seek shelter immediately," Varilerin whispered, careful not to incite panic among the women and wounded. "Even better, go as far away as possible from Erebor. Head north. A great army is marching here from Dol Guldur."

The woman widened her eyes, stifling another gasp. "What do you mean?" she stammered. "What army is there in Dol Guldur?"

"An army serving Sauron and his evil minions," Varilerin said darkly. "Even though they aim for Erebor, they will undoubtedly lay waste to the townsmen as they sweep the land. You need to leave."

"It cannot be," the woman, as expected, said. She was about to argue further, but then realised that the man standing before her was not ordinary. He was like Gandalf the Wizard, wiser than all of the townsmen and very old. His eyes reflected off years of bitter experience and history, not lies. "How can I trust you?"

Varilerin gritted her teeth and felt blood rushing to her face. "For heaven's sake, do not pester me with more foolish doubts! Why would I lie to you about war?" Varilerin said, rather too loudly, for all heads in the room snapped towards her. She glared at them fair and square. "Yes, while your men and the Elves wage petty wars with the Dwarves over some... stupid gems or what not, a horde of hundreds, perhaps thousands, is approaching us. And they will kill every, single one of you, men, women, and children alike, if you don't trust a word I said and evacuate this city."

She let the people register her words, letter by letter, until they were consumed by the horrors of the situation they were in. She herself did not have any concrete proof other than Gandalf's words and her visions.

Faith. That was what she believed in, whether she liked it or not. All this time she had always clung to faith, even if it was a blind one.

"What's going on here?" suddenly someone chirped. The man she recognised as Alfrid, who had fussed over so many things the night before and during the town's evacuation, blasted into the room. His smug face did little to their mood. "What's a ranger doing here, disturbing peace, saying that an army will attack us and all? Where's the proof?"

Varilerin resisted an urge to punch his face—she knew the man deserved more beating. From his sodden expression and his droopy eyes, she could tell that he was just an incompetent greedy man like the town master. "This ranger, young man, is trying to save you all," Varilerin announced.

"You are quite arrogant for a ranger," Alfrid spat. "Perhaps you should stop diving into our problems, eh?"

"Alfrid," the woman warned. The air grew heavier with each passing second.