Post by Admin on Jan 6, 2021 18:46:08 GMT
Author: sehellys
Rating: PG
As far as his usual misadventures were concerned, Aragorn mused, this one wasn’t all that bad. Bright sunshine crept in through cracks between the stones that locked him in this miserable cave. Clearly that meant that, this time, there was significantly less rock between him and freedom.
Definitely one of his better mishaps, he decided. Elladan and Elrohir would get him out of here in no time, once they noticed he was missing at least.
Frustration was starting to creep up on him despite his best attempts to stay positive.
“Goodness, we really should know better by now”, he muttered darkly to himself while banging his head against the wall of stone behind him in frustration, “splitting up to have a hunting competition is like asking for disaster.”
He sighed audibly and rested his bruised head against the solid rocks that had almost been his doom. In truth, they might still be, his leg was broken, making it impossible for him to stand, let alone clear himself a path to freedom.
Jaw set tightly against the pain he knew would come, he braced his back against the stones and tried to shift his weight onto his good leg and get up. Keen pain shot up and down his leg as soon as he moved though and eventually he had to lower himself back to the rough ground, defeated.
Long minutes passed until the pain subsided and his heartbeat evened out, and suddenly the cave seemed deathly quiet. Morosely, he looked around the small space, the dead rabbit in the corner, neatly impaled on one of his throwing knives, seemed to look back at him mockingly.
‘No,’ Aragorn decided defiantly, ‘I will not be defeated by a dead rabbit’s sinister shot at revenge.’
Only slightly disconcerted by the fact that he had started to blame a deceased rodent for his current situation, Aragorn was trying to keep his thoughts positive. Packs of orcs, rockslides, or whatever else might be delaying his brothers, he knew, unfortunately from experience, would have little hope to stop them from finding him.
Quenching his fear with that comforting knowledge, Aragorn settled back once more and waited. Resting his tired eyes for a moment he started to sing softly to himself. Songs of Beren and Lúthien, of Gondolin and Nimrodel soon filled the depressingly small space of the cave and carried far beyond his stony prison.
That is how his older brothers eventually found him, following his voice all the way to the cavern. Unadulterated joy flooded through him when he heard their voices, already working on removing the stones that blocked his exit, all the while chiding him.
“X means danger Estel”, Elladan pointed out and indicated the bright red mark over the cave entrance while he and his twin carefully lifted Aragorn over the rocks.
“You should know that”, he added with a fake frown, “maybe we need to have Erestor teach you your letters again.”
“Zîrakzîgil”, Aragorn retorted and the twins chuckled when he used the word they had often claimed to be a dwarven curse when he had been younger.
Ah, the foolishness of youth - luckily Aragorn would still have a few years left to cultivate it, even after this last mishap.
The end
Rating: PG
As far as his usual misadventures were concerned, Aragorn mused, this one wasn’t all that bad. Bright sunshine crept in through cracks between the stones that locked him in this miserable cave. Clearly that meant that, this time, there was significantly less rock between him and freedom.
Definitely one of his better mishaps, he decided. Elladan and Elrohir would get him out of here in no time, once they noticed he was missing at least.
Frustration was starting to creep up on him despite his best attempts to stay positive.
“Goodness, we really should know better by now”, he muttered darkly to himself while banging his head against the wall of stone behind him in frustration, “splitting up to have a hunting competition is like asking for disaster.”
He sighed audibly and rested his bruised head against the solid rocks that had almost been his doom. In truth, they might still be, his leg was broken, making it impossible for him to stand, let alone clear himself a path to freedom.
Jaw set tightly against the pain he knew would come, he braced his back against the stones and tried to shift his weight onto his good leg and get up. Keen pain shot up and down his leg as soon as he moved though and eventually he had to lower himself back to the rough ground, defeated.
Long minutes passed until the pain subsided and his heartbeat evened out, and suddenly the cave seemed deathly quiet. Morosely, he looked around the small space, the dead rabbit in the corner, neatly impaled on one of his throwing knives, seemed to look back at him mockingly.
‘No,’ Aragorn decided defiantly, ‘I will not be defeated by a dead rabbit’s sinister shot at revenge.’
Only slightly disconcerted by the fact that he had started to blame a deceased rodent for his current situation, Aragorn was trying to keep his thoughts positive. Packs of orcs, rockslides, or whatever else might be delaying his brothers, he knew, unfortunately from experience, would have little hope to stop them from finding him.
Quenching his fear with that comforting knowledge, Aragorn settled back once more and waited. Resting his tired eyes for a moment he started to sing softly to himself. Songs of Beren and Lúthien, of Gondolin and Nimrodel soon filled the depressingly small space of the cave and carried far beyond his stony prison.
That is how his older brothers eventually found him, following his voice all the way to the cavern. Unadulterated joy flooded through him when he heard their voices, already working on removing the stones that blocked his exit, all the while chiding him.
“X means danger Estel”, Elladan pointed out and indicated the bright red mark over the cave entrance while he and his twin carefully lifted Aragorn over the rocks.
“You should know that”, he added with a fake frown, “maybe we need to have Erestor teach you your letters again.”
“Zîrakzîgil”, Aragorn retorted and the twins chuckled when he used the word they had often claimed to be a dwarven curse when he had been younger.
Ah, the foolishness of youth - luckily Aragorn would still have a few years left to cultivate it, even after this last mishap.
The end