Kingdom of the fallen

Waking dreams

He plopped down and swung his legs over the wall of stone.

It was a hot minute before he sensed somebody behind him and felt his blood start boiling.

"What did I say about being left alone?"

He halfway turned around, before (absolutely uncharacteristically of course) freezing and staring at the unrecognisable, evil grin on young Redd's face, and the ice blue of his eyes.

"What the..."

"As you wish, captain."

A swift kick into his back and Dûsh found himself flying, no, falling off of the cliff, the ranger's grimace seared into his mind's eye.

~°•°~

The first time he woke, Aragorn was honestly surprised he was alive.

His mind was slow and for one moment he couldn't comprehend how he was still breathing despite the white hot pain in his throat.

A cold and loathful aetheric voice swam through his consciousness followed by an agonized scream.

And then he understood.

He had underestimated his opponent.

He wasn't dealing with mindless fools or orcs. Celebrimbor was a cunning and accomplished king and commander in his own time, not to mention the centuries of plotting and warfare experience he must have accumulated in Mordor.

Laboured coughing rang through the space around as almost feather like footsteps neared him.

Aragorn battled his own eyelids to the best of his ability, but couldn't help but fall back into the dreamless ocean once more as a, what felt like a boot connected with the back of his head.

~°•°~

Dirhael felt like he was trying to calm down a raging sea instead of a group of supposedly loyal soldiers. Their shouts and angered voices bled through each other, only enhancing the general's building vertigo.

"It's outrageous!"

"How dare they!?"

"Our brothers... Sisters..."

Finally, something broke.

"SILENCE!!"

Despite the remaining murmurs, the booming sound thankfully somewhat died down, allowing Dirhael to compose himself somewhat.

"This army isn't here to satisfy ANYONE'S vengeful fantasies, we're here to serve and defend. NOTHING else! Now I suggest you get back into your assigned groups and return to your posts!"

Nobody moved an inch, instead, like a serpent, the cacophony of anger rose again. No amount of shouting or commands seemed to quiet them down.

Dirhael, despite his outward cold stance, was staring to get desperate as the old scar across his neck slowly started burning again, the knife like pain consuming his throat.

Finally, to the elderly general's relief, a familiar commanding voice rose above the rest, silencing the encampment.

"Have you no shame, soldiers?! You've no right to shout at your commanding officers!"

"But, lady É..."

Éowyn's brows furrowed as she took her place standing next to Dirhael.

"You'll address me by my proper titles or not at all!"

"We apologize, general, but..."

The shield maiden simply waved her hand, silencing them once more.

"Your cause may be just, but it doesn't warrant you acting like uncivilised deviants! Now return to your stations so that we can form a plan of attack."