Chapter Text
The Three Hunters rode in the direction of the smoke. Aragorn feared the worst. The Riders of Rohan had said that they left none alive. It was quite a disturbing thought. If the Halflings were truly dead, all of their troubles since Boromir fell would be for naught.
As they came upon the scene of battle, they were choked with the stench of orcs and death. A pile of charred bodies and crude weapons lay in the midst of it.
“Spread out. Search for the Halflings.”
The three dismounted, now faced with a very real possibility. Gimli began to dig through the large pile just as Legolas had. Aragorn took a moment to look across the Plains of Rohan, searching for any sign of hope.
Gimli spoke up; holding something in his calloused hand. “It’s one of their wee belts.”
It was blackened from the fire. Aragorn let out a cry of anguish and kicked a helmet as hard as he could. He fell to the ground in defeat. Legolas muttered a quiet prayer.
“We failed them”, Gimli said.
The wind lifted the smoke off the air. It served as a shadow of hope, of things to come.
Aragorn’s ranger eyes studied the trampled grass.
“A hobbit lay here, and the other.” He started following the tracks. “Their hands were bound. Their bonds were cut.”
He picked up a broken length of rope. “They ran over here. They were followed.” Gimli and Legolas followed close behind him.
“The tracks lead away from the battle ...into Fangorn Forest.”
Gimli, with disbelief painting his voice, voiced his thoughts. “Fangorn. What madness drove them in there?”
“I know not, but we must go with haste if we are to catch them.”
The Man, Dwarf, and Elf delved into the darkness of Fangorn.