The ancient structure around him still drew its power from the land. Amon Sul stood age-old and broken above the lands of Eriador. The dark, majestic and cold the towers of the Dunedain lies broken around, strown among the blood of ancient men and women. Lowering his head, lost in the deep confines of this thoughts, Zarg slowly walked towards the edge of mountainous peak and looked down, his eyes snaked along the road leading from the Bree-lands over the hills, along it's precious course towards one of his people's only strongholds amongst the lands of Men. Borrowed in its protective embrace, Imladris nestled in the foothills of the Misty mountains; along the mighty river Bruinen. A heavy sigh departed his lips as he made his way back over the darken rocks to where Elenath already sat on the bedroll waiting for him. Still missing his people, but knowing of the need that Eldar should stand side by side alongside Dwarf and Man. For what little remains of his people on these shores, they can not, must not, abandon the race of Men to the what threats befall these lands. For what is to come, little may know.
He is sick of thinking like this; sick of the anger, the rage the lust for meaning. But that is all that he affords himself to be consumed by. Although, in the quiet of night and within the light of the stars his thoughts ran wild, too wild; into meaning, purpose and fate. Trying to force his thoughts away, repressing it with even more details of business, he can still not shake off the innermost need know, to find out what he is meant to do here in his existence of ages uncountable. Why?
The light of the crescent moon shone its pale and captivating eternity through her dark hair, black like a ravens feathers at night. Inside her, her own thoughts flowed, her own life playing its own course. For them to have met and shared this, has left him even more scared then ever before. How is he going to protect her? And if word comes out of her true heritage, of her true name; he has no control anymore. No means to guarantee her safety. She came to him baring the name of Hethan for her own protection. Of her own want to escape her past, the past of her father who she barely knew, and now almost not at all. Not after what that filth told her.
It all began a few months ago when he met her on one of his scouting patrols along the Lone-lands. From afar he saw a horse at full gallop, huge bellows of dust trailed in its wake in the still humid air. As the rider came closer he could see her ethereal brilliance more clearly, She was one of his kin. and she was running from something, something that pursued her from the East.
He is sick of thinking like this; sick of the anger, the rage the lust for meaning. But that is all that he affords himself to be consumed by. Although, in the quiet of night and within the light of the stars his thoughts ran wild, too wild; into meaning, purpose and fate. Trying to force his thoughts away, repressing it with even more details of business, he can still not shake off the innermost need know, to find out what he is meant to do here in his existence of ages uncountable. Why?
The light of the crescent moon shone its pale and captivating eternity through her dark hair, black like a ravens feathers at night. Inside her, her own thoughts flowed, her own life playing its own course. For them to have met and shared this, has left him even more scared then ever before. How is he going to protect her? And if word comes out of her true heritage, of her true name; he has no control anymore. No means to guarantee her safety. She came to him baring the name of Hethan for her own protection. Of her own want to escape her past, the past of her father who she barely knew, and now almost not at all. Not after what that filth told her.
It all began a few months ago when he met her on one of his scouting patrols along the Lone-lands. From afar he saw a horse at full gallop, huge bellows of dust trailed in its wake in the still humid air. As the rider came closer he could see her ethereal brilliance more clearly, She was one of his kin. and she was running from something, something that pursued her from the East.
