| Subject: Ride Hard |
Author:
Legolas
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Date Posted: 12:18:17 04/13/02 Sat
Legolas took no time to absorb what he had just seen. Nodding, he vaulted up onto the horse's bare back. A moment later, Lómódë had mounted behind him. She sat comfortably on the horse, seeming almost like part of the beast, at ease with it's every movement. Feeling her hands grasp his waist lightly, he asked the horse to gallop. They moved like the wind, eating up the miles, the faery keeping perfect time with them up above.
After what seemed like eternity, they reached the gates of Minas Tirith. Recognising him, the guards threw open the gate instantly. Again he urged the tired horse onward, not stopping to check if the faery was behind them.
Once again, when he reached the palace, the gates were opened to his command. Turning the horse over to a guard with instructions to have it looked after, he ran through the corridors to Aragorn's bedchamber.
The guards outside the door were dead. With a curse, he threw open the door. Aragorn was there, still alive, but only just. Walking swiftly back to the door he called for the doctor. The man was there quickly, panting, and now almost retching at the sight of the dead guards.
"What's wrong with him? Isn't there something you can do?"
"He was hit by a crossbow bolt in the back, my Lord." the doctor answered. "We've done all we can for him, but still the fever rises. It's beyond my skill to heal."
No- Aragorn couldn't die. He had to live, had to go on. In desparation, he turned back. Lómódë was waiting in the doorway, a strange expression on her face. Behind her, the faery had just walked up.
They both had power- maybe one of them could help. There was no time to question them now to ensure that they were good, he would have to trust them.
"Isn't there something one of you can do?" He pleaded. "Please."
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