Stories > Little Jewel's stories > Leaves > Earth

Earth

by Little Jewel-(T)
October 14, 2016

The smell of burning was heavy in the atmosphere. Fires still flickered here and there and smoke tendrils rose up into the air, creating a thick grey cloud, blocking the sky from view.

The battle was over. Aragorn gazed around him at the destroyed landscape in despair. The earth was scorched beyond recognition, burnt down to nothing.  All that remained was a barren deserted landscape, soaked in the blood of both men and orcs.
Dead bodies littered the land around. The air was filled with sounds of the dying and the mourning. It was a disaster. With a sigh, Aragorn bent down and ripped a strip of leather off an orc corpse and proceeded to clean his sword from the blood that clung to the metal.

His eyes wandered around once more. The sun had risen, her warm rays easing the cold and empty feelings surrounding his heavy heart. So many lost. So many dead. The Battle of the Pelennor Fields had claimed many victims. Many innocent victims caught up in the unstoppable tidal wave of war.

 He looked up. Two figures were making their ways towards him. One, small and stout an axe in his hand, the other tall and lithe, a bow and quiver strapped to his back.

“Well now laddie,” Gimli said as he drew close to the man, using his axe to lean on. “We’re all here and alive.”

“You are injured?” Aragorn asked, concerned for his friend. His voice was low and soft.

Gimli waved his question aside. “Me? No, no. You can never bring a dwarf down, least of all this dwarf!” He stretched his back. “A little stiff perhaps, nothing more!”

Grumbling under his breath he stomped away kicking dead orcs out of his path. Aragorn watched him go with a sad smile on his face.

Legolas turned to the ranger. “How are you, my friend?” [His eyes took in the sight of Aragorn standing in front of him. For the most part the man was unscathed and unharmed and for this the elf prince was most thankful.]

Aragorn looked at the blond elf and the saw the true question reflected in Legolas’ blue eyes. Sighing he sheathed his sword. “Look at this place,” he said, gesturing around them. “What do you see? Death, destruction, loss, ruin. All for what?”

Legolas placed his hand on Aragorn’s shoulder. “Do not despair,
mellon nin. All is not lost. The land has suffered greatly, but with care and time it will flourish once more.”
 
The smallest hint of a smile played on Aragorn’s lips. “Maybe, but there is much work needed to be done before the evil truly leaves this land.”

“And your friends will be with you every step of the way.” Legolas clasped the ranger’s shoulder tightly, reminding him of the promise he had made to the man before leaving Rivendell.

Gratitude shone brightly in the man’s eyes as he gazed back at the elf he had come to call brother. “Indeed I shall.”

Legolas smiled but a yell from across the field interrupted him. Both the elf and the ranger turned to see the disturbance. In the distance, Gimli was wildly hacking at something with his axe.

Legolas shook his head with a groan. “What is that foolish dwarf doing now?”

Aragorn’s eyes shone with mirth. “Probably having a go at some semi-alive orc.” Legolas grimaced in disgust. “Shall we go and see?” Aragorn asked with a wicked grin.

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