Robin closed his eyes as he felt his naneth's fingers comb gently through his hair, pulling little strands into a braid. A forlorn, haunting tune filled the air as his adar plucked strings of his harp, mixing with the crackling of the fireplace.
It was peaceful... almost too peaceful.
Robin didn't want it to end.
But suddenly the fingers were gone. It was the smoke filling his nose and screams that made Robin's eyes snap open, leaping to his feet among the ashes.
His father's bow was slung over his shoulders, his quiver long since gone empty. Boots covered in ash, Robin could only stare at the desolation of the village he had once called home. Bodies littered the ground, both orc and human.
Elven. One corpse was elven.
His father's voice echoed through Robin's ears, making him vow to keep an eye on his mother. On his mother and unborn sister.
Robin had sworn; he would never let them come to harm.
He had failed.
"Hood! Valar, Hood, get up!"
It took Robin a second to realize he really smelled smoke. Eyes snapping open, he sat up suddenly, his head spinning as blood rushed to his temples. "What in bloody--"
"No time. Take this."
Blinking, Robin allowed his eyes to adjust to the growing darkness, realizing that it was Elanor who pushed a torch into his hand, her emerald eyes catching the fading sun. She almost looked... afraid?
Then it all came flooding back.
"Wolves," he gripped the torch, his free hand flying to the gash on his head. But his fingers only met bandages, which were slightly damp. "What--?"
"Not wolves."
Pushing himself to his feet with a groan, Robin glanced toward Aria's voice, who held her bladed long staff in a white-knuckled grasp. "Not... wolves?"
"It's not possible," Elrohir interrupted, shaking his head. "The werewolf race fell ages ago. Those that might have survived would be dispersed, there are few that could rally them together."
"Well, it would be just our luck," Aragorn's voice was tight.
Robin didn't look all the way over at the king, afraid he wouldn't be able to control his mouth if he did. His head pounded so hard, he couldn't tell what was torchlight and what were stars dancing before his eyes. He could already feel bruises forming across his chest, a dull stinging every time he ever breathed.
"Neither you nor Hood will be much use if we are attacked," Gimli glanced apologetically at Aragorn. "No offense, laddie."
Aragorn pressed his lips firmly together but nodded. From the corner of his eye, Robin noticed his shoulder was bandaged and already, his nose and left eye were turning blue.
Putrid orc.
"The horses," Robin's words seemed to startle the others, as if they forgot he was even back into consciousness. Pressing his palm against his head, Robin tried to blink away stars. "They'll bolt."
Suddenly, another howl cut through the night, much closer than Robin remembered before he passed out. Gripping his torch tighter, he held back a curse.
"He is not wrong," Legolas glanced around. "We need to..."
"We need to bring the fight to them," Aria interrupted, making Robin blink in surprise. He didn't know the raven-haired woman was capable of so many words. "Fight on our own terms."
"I mean, I'm all for fighting," Thralor interjected, scratching the bald part of his head. For the first time ever, he didn't look like he wanted to fight. "But maybe we should hightail it the other way instead?"
"A horse couldn't outrun a wolf," Aragorn shook his head in frustration. "And if Aria is correct--"
"I am."
The howls were growing closer. Tied to one of the trees, Gilroc pranced nervously, throwing her black mane. Clenching his jaw, Robin shifted his feet in anticipation.
These were the kinds of things that could be avoided if he was on his own. Never before did Robin have to deal with orc assassins or kingly duels or bloodthirsty werewolves. Curse the Valar above.
"I think we should take care of them now--" Elladan started, but was swiftly cut off by Thralor, who glared darkly at the to twins.
"Leave it to the elves to put our lives on the line. There was a reason Dain never trusted you pointy-eared--"
"Brother!"
Closing his eyes tight, Robin swallowed the metallic tang on his tongue, realizing his lip had started bleeding again. He took a deep breath around the shouting that had erupted through the clearing-- then realized the howls had stopped.
Opening his eyes, Robin met Elanor's wide green eyes, then turned his head and glanced around. One by one, the others quieted.
Then there was a sharp bark and a flash of black fur. Robin barely had time to throw himself to the ground as a creature four times the size of an average dog leaped through the air, breezing over his head. His torch rolled to the side, licking at dead grass.
The wolf hit the ground with a thud and skidded-- right into Aragorn's blade. The torchlight caught a flash of silver and then a loud yelp shattered the night.
Suddenly, howling was all Robin could hear.
He threw himself forward, fingers wrapping around the torch and rolling to his back, seconds before another wolf leaped out of the shadows, the creature only ducking away as he sliced the flames through the air.
These were no wolves, Robin quickly realized. Not only were they twice the size, but their eyes glowed yellow and red. Where there should have been forelegs, were clawed hands and fur covered muscles. Robin's heart leaped into his throat as the werewolf didn't simply stalk forward, but stood on its hind legs, snarling toward where he laid.
Scrambling back, the pain rocketing through Robin's head and body was forgotten and he shoved himself to his feet, retreating backward.
But his dagger and sword were gone, somewhere in the undergrowth. His bow laid in the dirt ten feet away, from where he had foolishly thrown it before the duel.
By Morgoth's silmaril.
"Good... dog?"
The wolf snarled, throwing itself forward and Robin barely managed to duck, feeling the air of the creature's movement. Swinging his torch through the air, he just caught its mane and the growl turned into a squealing yelp.
Catching flames streaked into the distance as the werewolf raced away. Blinking, Robin grinned a little, glancing at his torch. "Wadda know."
He had retreated to the edge of the clearing, his eyes snapping back to the chaos. The others were engaged in their own opponents, the grizzled, shadowed creatures a terror in the darkness.
Cursing, Robin gazed over his shoulder, then gripped his torch tighter, racing toward the fighting.
"Fire! They are afraid of fire!"
He met Aragorn's startled eyes, who tossed aside his sword and swung his torch with both hands. But turning away, Robin searched the fighting instead for green eyes-- a flash of red hair made him race toward where Elanor faced a wolf three times her size.
But before he got within ten feet, a force rammed into his shoulder so hard, he swore he heard a crack, flying sideways to the ground.
Once more, Robin tasted blood.
Rolling over, he grasped for his torch, but it was inches out of reach. Groaning, Robin lifted his head-- to meet two narrowed yellow eyes. Yellow eyes, a face half covered in mangy fur, and... and...
Robin blinked.
Slowly, the fur melted away from the creatures body and a sneer played across a humanoid scarred face, the eyes remaining yellow slits but everything else seeming human.
The figure that stood before him was a man.
"So you're the thief." The man's voice was on the brink of a growl and as he spoke, Robin got a glimpse of sharp teeth. "Interesting."
Robin started to scramble back, but the man quickly stepped forward-- down hard on his leg. Stringy hair fell over his eyes as the man tilted his head, a predatory snarl forming on his face. "Going somewhere?"
Robin opened his mouth, then closed it. There was a ringing in his ears, his body hurting so bad he wasn't sure he would get far if he did.
Still, in vain, his fingers searched the dirt for his torch. But instead, he felt cool iron, his senses screaming as he realized it was his sword. Forcing a grin, Robin gazed up at the man. "I wouldn't dream of it."
Yellow eyes blinked.
Grunting, Robin wrapped his fingers around the handle of the sword and swung it forward-- the man shouted in pain as it sliced across his chest leaving a long gash of red.
As if in sync with the pain, the man's back arched and he threw his head back toward the sky. Something in Robin's stomach twisted as fur began to cover the man's arms and face once more, his shout turning into a broken howl.
Oh, Eru.
This time, Robin was able to clamber to his feet, although the entire world spun. The howl broke off and he barely managed to duck as sharp claws entered his vision, nicking his cheek.
Feeling a trick of blood warm his face, Robin stumbled back, cursing under his breath.
"Morchant has requested your death," the wolf-like man's voice came out in a growl and bile rose in Robin's throat at his snoutlike face. So this was a werewolf.
"I don't know who that is," Robin gripped his blade tighter. "But I'm sorry to say this handsome face is going to have to disappoint."
Yellow eyes flashed and the werewolf leaped forward, fangs catching the pale moonlight. Robin darted sideways, slashing his blade sideways again, but this time not even catching a hint of fur.
He felt on the brink of collapse.
But before the man-wolf could even move, there was a shout and a flash of torchlight. Robin didn't even have time to blink before the werewolf screamed in agony, flames racing up his fur.
Thralor stood behind him, gripping a torch tightly.
"You foolish creature!" Everything was moving slow, but Robin's mind was able to comprehend the werewolf stumbling back, shifting between wolf and man, then back. "Morchant will slay you all!"
"Take another step, dog." Thralor brandished his torch like an axe, taking a fighting stance. But instead, yellow eyes flashed and the werewolf turned.
Silence fell over the clearing as he raced into the darkness. As if sensing their leader's retreat, the surviving wolves broke away as well, turning tail and sprinting into the growing shadows.
With wide eyes, Robin gazed over at the bald-headed dwarf.
"Don't think twice about it, Hood." Thralor tossed the torch to the ground, looking disgruntled. "Now we're even."
Even.
Robin slumped back to the ground. This time, he didn't even try to fight the darkness, letting it sweep him into a blissful oblivion.
Robin went north after the burning of his village.
Months were spent moving from place to place, never staying long enough to let his heart settle. Bringing in what he could hunt and selling in the markets, Robin quickly realized his efforts were better spent pickpocketing, never earning enough to live on.
Then pickpocketing turned into full-fledged thieving. And that turned into picking up jobs, from those who were too stuck-up or powerful to get their hands dirty.
And that became his life. Drinking too much at the local taverns and taking what jobs he could.
Because, he had decided, that was what he deserved.
He had failed.
Robin didn't quite remember the day that word spread that the War of the Ring had been won. But he did remember the day the king's coronation was announced.
Robin had traveled to Gondor then. Standing beyond the crowds, he had watched everything, from the speech to the crowning.
And just like that, it was over.
All those killed, were forgotten. The war went into legend-- but not the lowly fighters. Only the king and his companions. Those of rank and title.
That day, Robin realized that his father had died for nothing. He was another body that was never recovered on the battlefield, another that was but a simple casualty. He had died fighting a war for a kingdom that would never remember his face.
Robin had sworn then.
Everything he had lost wouldn't be for granted. He didn't care who, but someone would pay. And the king, standing above them all...
King Elessar.
King Elessar would be the one to pay.
*dun duuuuuun duuuuuuuuun* *leaps onstage*
This chapter was shorter than most... short, but quite fun to write! I just love the action scenes... well, action scenes and death scenes and action/death scenes. They are quite fun.
Hehe... moving on. How are you all? I start my final year of high school in ten days and lemme tell you, my friends, I don't wanna. I want to stay free and let my hair flow in the wind as I ride through the glen, firing arrows into the sunset.
Or write forever. Either works.
Discussion starter: so a bit more of Robin's past and a bit more action! What do you guys think of Gwath? He will be a more frequent character, I can promise that *crackles*