a different kind of welcome (pg)
a different kind of welcome
an au version of henneth annûn.
Their blindfolds are unbound. The mist of a waterfall surrounds them, creating an aura of coolness they had not yet encountered underneath the shadowy boughs of Ithilien. Wherever they were, it was well out of the reach from any Enemy, at least concerning Orc-kind.
A young man approaches and hands them bread, which they take without a second thought.
“What are your names?”
The smaller one remains silent, nibbling on the slice and avoiding the curious gaze of their captors, but the other is quick to answer.
“What’s it to you?”
“Just a simple question.”
“What’s yours, then?”
“My name?”
“Aye.”
Grey eyes critical, there is a pause before answering.
“Dernhelm.”
“Well then, Dernhelm, we’re not answering any questions without a proper --”
The Ranger’s eyes perk up at the sound of footsteps. The Captain approaches, outerwear shed. “Have you learned anything?”
“No,” came a stern reply. “Agents of the Dark Lord, perhaps.”
He nods. The youth, whose lips now house the ghost of a smile, is dismissed.
"My men tell me you that are Orc spies."
an au version of henneth annûn.
Their blindfolds are unbound. The mist of a waterfall surrounds them, creating an aura of coolness they had not yet encountered underneath the shadowy boughs of Ithilien. Wherever they were, it was well out of the reach from any Enemy, at least concerning Orc-kind.
A young man approaches and hands them bread, which they take without a second thought.
“What are your names?”
The smaller one remains silent, nibbling on the slice and avoiding the curious gaze of their captors, but the other is quick to answer.
“What’s it to you?”
“Just a simple question.”
“What’s yours, then?”
“My name?”
“Aye.”
Grey eyes critical, there is a pause before answering.
“Dernhelm.”
“Well then, Dernhelm, we’re not answering any questions without a proper --”
The Ranger’s eyes perk up at the sound of footsteps. The Captain approaches, outerwear shed. “Have you learned anything?”
“No,” came a stern reply. “Agents of the Dark Lord, perhaps.”
He nods. The youth, whose lips now house the ghost of a smile, is dismissed.
"My men tell me you that are Orc spies."