Valkyrie | The Lord of the Rings

𝟔 | The Hunters

It took little time after breakfast to get the halflings up and packed before the group of six where once more on their way to Rivendell. They kept a quick pace like yesterday. Strider led the way like before, Maleficent trailing in the back close to the hobbits, as they kept moving forwards. It was a relatively silent trip. The only real noise that stud out from the worlds natural hum of wildlife was the calm chattering of the four halflings. Merry and Pippin were the loudest. They giggled and laughed loosely, the weight and severity of the journey seemingly have not settled in yet, while Sam and Frodo were more quiet as they linger closer to Maleficent.

They kept moving for minutes that quickly faded to hours and hours of trekking forward on sore feet and minimal sleep. The energy from breakfast was spent quickly. Maleficents feet aches in her boots, days worth of sweat and and dirt clinging to her porcelain skin, as her wings longed to feel the cool air of the sky. The chilling sky that seemed to phase in seconds from the autumn hues of orange and red to cold navy blue and black with distance starts splattered across the dark expanse like dots of paint. They only stopped when they came to a decrepit stone watch tower. It's walls were in shambles, ivy and moss crawling up its side, while nothing was left of its roof and glass works.

"This was the great watchtower of Amon Sûl." Strider hummed softly as he glanced back over his shoulder "We shall rest here tonight."

Maleficent spread her wings quickly, easily taking to the air, and did a quick sweep around what was left of the tower before she landed beside the halflings with a flourish of midnight feathers and kicked up dust. The hobbits quickly sat down, exhausted and weary, before Strider pulled a package from his ponies back and tossed it to the ground. He pulled the wrap aside to reveal four rusty swords. Maleficent picked one up and pulled it from its small sheath to inspect it. It looked delicate in her hands, rusty and imperfect compared to her marble skin and the gallant weapon on her hip, before she resealed it and hesitantly handed it to Pipin. The hobbit took it, hand shaking with nerves.

"These are for you. Keep them close." The ranger commanded as he stood up "I'm going to have a look around. Stay here."

"I'll scout further" Maleficent added as her staff shrunk to fit in her pocket "I'll spot something faster being higher up"

The man nodded before she stepped off the edge of the tower, plummeting for a moment, before her great wings snapped open and she was soaring towards the clouds. She disappeared within them. The smokey grey wisps brushed against her fingers, caressing her black feathers like a familiar and comforting touch, before she dipped back below them so she could see clearly. She circled like a hawk, gaze sharp and unwavering. The cool air bit against her skin but she didn't flinch or shiver. She preferred the cold. Her eyes flickered downwards as she caught sight of Strider wading through the bushes, his movements elegant and calculated, before she flapped her wings and soared slightly higher. She flew further. She tried to listen as well as watch but with how high she was the only real sound she could hear was the wind whipping past her and echoing in her ears. It whistled sharply, howling like a beast under the moon.

But the rushing wind did nothing to shield the piercing screech that ripped through the air.

Maleficent cursed as her eyes narrowed sharply before she turned with a panicked beat of her wings. Her heart beat furiously in her chest, fluttering wildly like a caged bird, as she flew desperately back the way she had came. The wind now seemed to work against her, dragging and clawing at her wings to hold her back, but she pushed through and soared. The screeching became louder. Her heart was close to bursting. The icy wind bit at her skin meanly, her eyes narrowing. The decrepit tower emerged from the shadows as Maleficent came closer and the sound of yelling, mingled with the hissing and vile sounds of the Wraiths, filled the air. Her gaze sharpened. Five massive shadows slithered out of the darkness towards her hobbits who were knocked to the ground. The Nazgûl advanced towards something she could not see but that didn't matter to the witch. She pushed her wings harder and, as soon as she was close, she swooped down like a hawk going in for the kill.