Worth Fighting For Chapter Two

by Apr 1, 2009Stories

<strong>Worth Fighting For

Chapter Two: Whispers</strong>

“Here is the test to find whether your mission on earth is finished. If you’re alive, it isn’t.” ~Richard Bach


My aunt would have plagued me for months if she knew how I kicked my attacker. How I attacked him, I must admit, was very unladylike, but at that moment I could have cared less what the consequences would be. I kicked where everyone knows hurts in a man when kicked.

The man jerked back for a millisecond, but that was all I needed to roll out of him. He pulled on my yellow dress, yanking my head back. I cried out, and managed to jab him in the face with the elbow. I hastily tried to rise, but he grabbed my leg with his sharp nails, and I found myself launched onto the floor again.

Suddenly, there were human voices in the barn. Shouts. The stall door banged open wider, and I found myself kicking my attacker again. I observed two newcomers; Rohirrim guards, and in the corner of my eyes observed them as they hauled the wild man off me.

The knife dropped, and one of the Rohirrim swiftly picked it up with his right hand.

“Loth&iacute;riel! Are you alright?” I whirled around like a scared rabbit.

It was only Amrothos. I nodded, and he offered his hand. I needed to pull myself up with both my hands holding onto his. Once standing, I noticed that Legolas and Gimli had also arrived, and they were staring, wide-eyed, at my attacker. At least, Gimli was. Elves had the habit of hiding their emotions well.

I flushed at the thought of so many men being in the stall with me. Rather it was that they had come, because of me, or that I felt immodest in my ripped dress, I’m not sure. I think it was both.

“Ic b&oacute;criht &aacute;bradwe docgan!” shouted the man. “I will kill that dog!” Amrothos pushed me behind him. I stumbled slightly, but managed to compose myself. The man’s eyes were blazing at me, taking no notice of my brother, or at least, he tried not to. However, Amrothos still glared at him.

How could he hate me so much to want to kill me? I had never met him before!

But I was a queen; I reminded myself, and young. I knew that several people thought I was still too young to rule a large country, and probably thought me na&iuml;ve. But did he truly think he could kill me so easily?

I stubbornly stared back at him. There were six of us, and more besides; most likely waiting for orders outside. There was only one of him.

Amrothos finally broke the silence.

“Bind him, and take him to Lord Faramir. We will decide what to do with this man, shortly. We will make him talk civilly.” The guards nodded, and did as they were told.

The now prisoner gave me a disgusted look as he passed, then he was gone, and I could only hear his footsteps. Once they had left, Amrothos turned his worried, brown eyes towards me.

“Are you alright?” he asked again.

I nodded. I didn’t feel like speaking, and I appreciated the fact that Amrothos did not press me. In response, he wrapped a strong arm around me, and we made are way out of the stall. Someone else would take of Isildur for me. We had not gone far when Legolas stopped us.

“Did he not look familiar?” the Elf queered.

“No. I had never met him before,” I replied truthfully, giving my brother a puzzled look. “Why?”

The Elf glanced at the dwarf, who frowned, muttering angrily at himself. Legolas pressed his lips together, and looked ahead.

He sighed, shaking his head. “I thought he may have been Gr&iacute;ma for your attacker bore a striking resemblance to him. However, he was killed by the Shire-folk a few years back.”

He gave me a weak smile, and touched my shoulder. An unwelcome shutter went through my body. “Forgive me. Those thoughts need not be considered.”

We walked the rest of the way in silence, escorted by guards. A brief breeze rustled my clothes and hair as we walked in the courtyard. Ahead, I could see the Rohirrim practically dragging my attacker up the steps of Faramir’s home.

As if he knew that we’d be behind him, the man turned, and gave me a malicious glare. I swear I heard the breeze quietly whisper:

He wants to kill you.

Each and every one of you.

Notes: So I used an Anglo-Saxon online translator for my Rohirric. I’m not sure how good it actually is, so if you want to comment on it, or have a better idea of where to get Anglo-Saxon words, please let me know in a review.


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