A Promise- a LOTR Fanfiction (Legolas) ❤︎ ✓

Chapter 14: The White Rider

"Dead?" Gimli whispers. Legolas tightens his grip around my shoulders.

"I am sorry." Éomer says. "Hasufel! Arod!" He calls, and a chestnut horse and a white horse trot forwards with no rider.

"May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters." He says, grabbing the reins and passing them to Aragorn and Legolas. "Farewell. Look for your friends, but do not trust to hope. It has forsaken these lands." Éomer then mutters darkly, and calls over his shoulder to his men. "We ride north!" With thundering hoofbeats, the Rohirrim turn north and gallop away, leaving us behind in the empty area. I stare numbly after them, my friends silent as well. The two horses stand impatiently, one of them pawing at the dusty ground.

Finally Aragorn speaks.

"I do not believe they are dead." Aragorn hisses. "We cannot believe it yet." He grabs onto the brown horse's reins, pulling himself up onto the saddle. He reaches out an arm for me and I swing up behind him. Legolas and Gimli sit atop the white horse, Arod.

"I hope the Rohirrim were mistaken," I murmur, "I could not bear it if they are really... Gone." Aragorn smiles sadly at me before turning back to the front and nudging Hasufel forwards. Legolas and Gimli ride beside us, towards the giant pile of carcasses and smoke. We quickly approach the pile, and I grimace as I see a head impaled on a spear sticking out of the ground. The Uruk's tounge is sticking out and it's eyes are wide open, lips curling in a snarl. I turn away as the horses slow down a few paces away, and we all dismount quickly, rushing to the smoking pile. I follow Gimli as we search through the bodies, looking for the halflings. Gimli uses his axe, moving bodies here and there, and I try to help him with my two swords. He suddenly freezes, gasping slightly and I start to shake. Gimli plucks a leather belt from the pile- it belonged to Pippin.

"It's one of their wee belts..." Gimli whispers, and I shut my eyes tightly. I don't feel the rush of sadness, but instead I feel numb. Gandalf, Boromir, Merry, Pippin... Who else?

"Hiro îth ab 'wanath. (may they find peace after death.)" Legolas says softly, making his way over towards us. Aragorn kicks a helmet in either sadness, rage or despair- perhaps all three- and sinks to his knees. The helmet flies down the slight hill, thudding on the grass softly.

"We failed them." Gimli says, and I swallow. I could have saved them, I should have. Aragorn half-heartedly sweeps his hand over the squished grass.

"A hobbit lay here." He mutters, and I watch as he sits up, feeling the ground. A feeling of hope bubbles through me, but I push it down just in case. "They crawled." Aragorn rises to his feet and follows the light tracks, barely visible to me, but to the ranger, they seem to be easy to read.

"Their hands were bound." Aragorn continues. "Their bonds were cut!" He holds up some rope, frayed and cut at each end. How?

"They ran over here," Aragorn follows the tracks, but slows down when another pair of footsteps could be recognized along the hobbits. I lower my head. The little hope I carry diminishes. "They were followed." Aragorn says softly. "The tracks lead away from the battle." He then says, and I raise my head once more, watching as he runs to the borders of the forest nearby. We follow him.

"And into the Fangorn Forest." Aragorn finishes. They are alive!

"Fangorn. What madness drove them there?" Gimli gasps, looking at the forest in front of us. The trees look old, and worn. Nobody answers, and we walk into the forest. I end up walking beside Legolas, behind Aragorn, Gimli trailing behind, as always. I turn around to hurry him up, but he is stopped behind a bush. He dabs his finger at a leaf covered with some sort of liquid, and tastes it. I wrinkle my nose in disgust.