No More Horsing Around

Korra rested patiently on a rock, casting the occasional side glance to Aragorn as he placed his ear to the ground, a look of utter concentration on his face.

'Well that takes listening to the earth way too literally,' the woman thought offhandedly while reminiscing a certain grump.

Legolas's gaze shifted from the Ranger to Korra's dual blades, Ran and Shaw, which sat propped up against her leg.

"I've noticed that your swords have quite a unique construct," the elf commented, gaining the benders attention. "Do you know how to use them?"

Legolas was pleasantly surprised as he received a hum of affirmation.

"You must be truly talented to possess such an array of skills," Legolas said, allowing a small laugh to escape his lips.

"Not really," Korra rebutted, "I'm just good at annoying people until they teach me their skills. Also, the blades are basically a replica of my teachers...spirits, it was a miracle that I managed to squeeze sword lessons out of lord Zuko."

The bender grumbled the last part. Don't get her wrong, the previous fire lord was an incredible teacher, however, it was borderline impossible to convince him that she wouldn't accidentally impale herself.

Korra could see Aragorn crawl across the ground in her peripheral vision, an ear still pressed to the dirt.

Wondering just what the man was listening for, Korra placed a hand on the earth and employed one of the very few techniques she could coax out of the aged Beifong; seismic sense.

It wasn't long before she could feel the hurried stomps of a horde of creatures.

"Their pace has quickened," Aragorn stated as he stood up.

"Perhaps the foul creatures have caught our scent," Boromir suggested, not bothering to hide the accusatory gaze which he directed at Gimli.

Korra barely suppressed a snort as said Dwarf curiously sniffed his armpit, causing him to blanch violently.

"We must hurry!" the Ranger urged before running off, quickly followed by the others.

Well, quickly followed by most of them anyways.

"Come on, Gimli/Pick up the pace Gimli!" Legolas and Korra yelled at the same time as both spotted the Dwarf lagging behind.

Gimli stopped for a few seconds and took deep breaths in a weak attempt to alleviate his heart rate.

"Three days and nights in pursuit. No food. No rest. And no sign of our quarry but what bare rock can tell," he fumed none too quietly before resuming his run.

"Cheer up, Gimli. If you get too tired, I could always give you a ride," the Avatar offered as she pointed to her back.

"Not on your life, lassie," the Dwarf downright refused, earning a small chorus of laughter from his companions.

With Aragorn in the lead, all five darted across the plains and over rocks. On occasion, either Korra, Boromir or Legolas would glance behind to check on Gimli.

Aragorn noticeably slowed down as he squinted at the ground with a small frown on his face. The man proceeded to pick up a small object.

An Elven brooch.

"Not idly do the leaves of Lórien fall," the Ranger said.

"So, it was purposely removed?" Korra queried.

"Perhaps. They may yet be alive," Legolas stated, a small glint of hope emerging in his blue orbs.

A flash of relief crossed Boromir's face, but anyone could see the shadow of guilt which lingered in his eyes.

The young Avatar was about to reassure her companion but was cut off as Aragorn called, "They're less than a day ahead of us. Come!"

Korra playfully nudged the man of Gondor with her elbow.

"Let's go. Try to keep up alright, old man."

"I am not old," the Gondorian bristled, though his eyes held mirth.

The Ranger and the Avatar ran the furthest ahead, with Boromir and Legolas close behind, while Gimli followed up in the rear.

An irritated grunt drew Legolas' attention to his short friend, who had evidently tripped on a rock and fell to the ground.

"Come, Gimli! We are gaining on them!" the elf demanded, knowing full well that he was getting on his companions' nerves.

Gimli uttered a few curse words as he dusted himself off.

"Perhaps, you should take Korra up on her previous offer? I'm sure she'd accept," Boromir noted.

"Seconded!" the waterbender called from the front.

"Bah! Don't be ridiculous! I am wasted on cross-country! We dwarves are natural sprinters, you see! Very dangerous over short distances," the Dwarf barely managed to say as he puffed heavily.

Soon, the remainder of the Fellowship ceased all conversation, leaving only the sound of their own footfalls and laboured breaths.

Without the constant bickering to lift the mood, Korra could practically feel the building concern for their Hobbits.

It wasn't long before the five made their way to the top of a rather large hill where they were greeted by the sight of grassy plains as far as the eye could see.

"Rohan. Home of the horse-lords," Aragorn informed. "There is something strange at work here. Some evil gives speed to these creatures, sets its will against us. Legolas, what do your Elf eyes see?"

Legolas stared intensely at the horizon as if it was the Bain of his existence

"The Uruks turn northeast. They're taking the hobbits to Isengard!" the elf stated the name bitterly.

"Ice guard?" the Avatar mimicked under her breath.

A sour expression fell onto Aragorn's face as he practically spat out one word.

"Saruman."

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After a quick explanation, Korra now understood that Saruman was a past friend of Gandalf's but betrayed the grey wizard and imprisoned him in Isengard before the beginning of their quest. The thought of the gentle and kind old man in shackles made the Avatar's blood boil.

It was close to dawn and they were still tracking the Urak-hai. Korra had always had a large amount of stamina and endurance, but even the Avatar had her limits. She wasn't the only one either.

However, even as their lungs and legs felt as though they were on fire, and their bodies pleaded and screamed for rest, with Merry and Pippin's life's at stake, they couldn't allow it. A combination of pure determination, as well as stubbornness, served as their only source of energy.

"Keep breathing! That's the key! Breathe! Ho!" Gimli chanted at the rear like a mantra.

"That's the spirit, Gimli," Boromir encouraged weakly.

"They've run as if the very whips of their masters were behind them," Legolas stated, only minutely out of breath.

The elf's eyes raked the sky.

"What is it?" Boromir asked.

"A red sun rises... Blood has been spilled this night," the elf uttered grimly.

Any sarcastic quips that Korra was going to make were quickly forgotten as the distant sounds of horses filled her ears. She followed the others as they used large boulders to hide from view, crouching behind them as they watch the oncoming horsemen draw near.

Aragorn's eyes lit up in recognition as he gazed upon the flying banners and almost immediately revealed himself to the riders, but not before grabbing Korra's hood and placing it over her head.

The Ranger knew full well that Korra's appearance would draw attention. Clear blue eyes, naturally dark skin, silky brown hair and a muscular build was a bizarre combination to the people of Middle Earth and practically screamed 'outsider'.

"Put that cloak to good use and keep yourself concealed. The Rohirrim may not take well to a foreigner of unknown origin," Aragorn whispered to her. "Riders of Rohan! What news from the Mark?"

Once one of the Riders, assumedly the leader, made a quick signal, the horseman immediately rounded and rapidly enclosed the five in a tight circle.

Abruptly, all men directed their long spears threateningly at them.

"What business does an Elf, two men, a Dwarf and a," the man paused, looking at Korra with narrowed eyes, "hooded stranger have in the Riddermark? Speak quickly!"

"Give me your name, Horse Master, and I shall give you mine," Gimli spouted rudely, earning many affronted looks.

The leader tossed his weapon to one of his men before dismounting his horse.

Korra stood in front of Gimli protectively before the Dwarf could step up and challenge the man.

"Move stranger. I would like to cut off the Dwarf's head," he sneered. "If only it stood but a little higher from the ground."

The bender had half a mind to stomp the man fifty feet in the ground. However, with practised speed, Legolas notched an arrow, aiming it directly at the man's face.

"You would die before your stroke fell!" the elf declared fiercely.

Boromir, who had been closely observing the leader, moved forward, pushing down Legolas' arm as he did so.

"Éomer?" The Rohirrim glanced at the Gondorian with a suspicious glare.

"You know of my name, foreigner, and yet I do not know yours," Eomer said.

"It is I, Boromir, son of Denethor, Steward of Gondor," the man said, much to the Riders' surprise. "I believe we became acquainted some time ago."

Éomer took a few steps forward, giving Boromir a once over before signalling his men to withdraw their weapons.

"I apologise, Boromir. I hadn't recognised you. I remember you as more..." Éomer drifted off, unsure of how to word it.

"Clean? Aye, it has been quite an... overwhelming week."

"Unfortunately, that is something we share in common."

"So, it seems."

Soon, Éomer cast Aragorn an expecting look, as if to say, 'who are you?'.

"I am Aragorn, son of Arathorn. This is Gimli, son of Glóin, Legolas of the Woodland Realm, and Korra. We are friends of Rohan and of Théoden, your king," the Ranger introduced.

"Théoden no longer recognizes friend from foe," Éomer countered as he let out an agitated breath and removed his helmet. "...Not even his own kin."

A mixture of anger and pain flashed across the Rohirrim's eyes.

"How?" Boromir questioned. "Your Uncle is-"

"Poisoned!" Éomer swiftly interjected. "By Saruman. He controls the mind of the king and has claimed lordship over these lands. My company are those loyal to Rohan. And for that, we are banished. The White Wizard is cunning. He walks here and there, they say, as an old man, hooded and cloaked. And everywhere his spies slip past our nets."

The Gondorian, upon meeting Éomer's accusatory stare, immediately went on the defensive.

"What you're assuming is preposterous! How could I be a spy? Our kingdoms have shared an alliance for centuries," Boromir explained.

"Indeed, we may have forged a strong alliance, long ago, but I fear that time has made it a fragile one. I am no fool, man of Gondor. Betrayal isn't something I wish to taste again," the Rider spat out bitterly.

It only took a moment of tense silence before Aragorn intervened.

"We are not spies," the man reassured as soothingly as he could. "We track a party of Uruk-hai westward across the plain. They've taken two of our friends captive."

Éomer's stiffened shoulders seemed to relax at the Ranger's words, if only slightly.

"The Uruks are destroyed. We slaughtered them during the night."

Worried glances were exchanged.

"But there were two hobbits. Did you see two hobbits with them?" Gimli probed, almost impatiently.

"They would be small – only children to your eyes," Aragorn informed while desperately searching the other man's face for even the smallest sign of recognition.

"We left none alive. We piled the carcasses and burned them," Éomer stated as he pointed to the smoke which rose in the distance.

Gimli stumbled back slightly as if the man's words had physically harmed him.

"Dead?" the Dwarf whispered.

"...I am sorry," the Rider said sincerely.

Legolas rested his hand on his short friends' shoulder as a forlorn look spread on his face.

Korra shook her head violently, refusing to believe it.

"Look for your friends. You may yet find them, but do not trust to hope, it has forsaken these lands... Hasufel! Arod!" Éomer hollered after giving a sharp and loud whistle.

"May these horses bear you to better fortune than their former masters. Farewell."

The Rider placed his helmet back onto his head and mounted his horse, giving a cry of, "We ride North!"

Once the horsemen were out of sight, Korra slipped her hood off.

"I appreciate that man's generosity," Gimli started, "but how are we supposed to get the five of us on two horses."

"Five?! Oh, spirits no! There's no way I'm riding on a normal horse," Korra rejected, receiving a disgruntled nudge from one of the horses. "No offence."

"Then how do you plan to keep up. By running?" the Dwarf remarked sarcastically.

"Exactly. Don't worry, I'll keep up," the woman responded, as she began stretching out her tired muscles.

Gimli's sceptical reply was cut off as Legolas hefted him off the ground and onto the horse.

"I believe it is best not to question her, Master Dwarf. Just learn to accept that she can do the impossible," the elf advised, with Korra humming in approval in the background.

With Aragorn and Boromir in the lead, they rode – or ran in Korra's instance – towards the smoke where the burnt carcasses lay.

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True to her word, the young Avatar indeed matched the horses' speed as she manipulated the air currents to propel herself forward.

It wasn't long before they arrived at their destination, where a gruesome sight greeted them.

Previously, the bender almost, almost, felt disappointed that she wasn't the one to burn the Uruk-Hai to ashes, but seeing their barely recognisable, smouldering bodies had swiftly changed her mind.

Korra found herself blanching at the foul smell which filled her senses.

The others, unperturbed by the sight nor the scent, had already begun sifting through the smoking bodies, hoping and praying that their search would yield only Uruk remains. Korra was quick to follow.

"It's one of their wee belts," Gimli announced as he clutched a charred belt to his chest.

"Hiro îth ab 'wanath (May they find peace in death) ...," Legolas whispered with a bowed head while shutting his eyes.

Boromir grew instantly numb, standing completely stagnant as he felt the air leave his lungs.

"This can't be," the Gondorian croaked softly.

"AAARRRGGHH!!!" Aragorn's cry of anguish sounded out as he kicked an abandoned helmet before falling on his knees, his head hung in defeat.

"We've failed them," the Ranger breathed.

Korra momentarily paused in her adamant search for clues to give her companions a baffled glance.

"You can't give up now. They could still be alive," the Avatar spoke with a determined tone.

"...But lassie, the belt..." Gimli began.

"The belt doesn't prove squat, Gimli! We can't just assume Merry and Pippin are dead with that pathetic and weak evidence," Korra countered sharply, levelling all four of them with her condescending gaze. "I'm sure they're fine."

The men, elf and Dwarf were stunned. Indeed, they had seen the young woman angry, but never had they been on the receiving end – though they were well aware that her wrath could exceed even her current temperament.

The man of Gondor – ever the brave soul – was the first to break the silence.

"How could you possibly know that though?" Boromir questioned numbly.

Korra's expression softened slightly at the man's desperate tone.

"Instinct, I guess," the woman replied after a while.

"How can you put so much trust in something so fickle?" Boromir scoffed lightly, though not in a mocking sense.

"Well, let's just say a certain grey old man once told me not to dismiss my instincts."

While everyone silently dwelled on Korra's word's, Aragorn's attention was drawn to his right.

"...Tracks!" the man realised, abruptly climbing to his feet.

Though his sudden exclamation scared the life out of the others, Aragorn was quick to utilise his ranger skills.

"A hobbit lay here... and the other. Their hands were bound. Their bonds were cut. They ran over here. They were followed. The tracks lead away from the battle..." The Ranger trailed off as he, along with the others, were met with the sight of a menacing forest as they stood at its very outskirts.

"Fangorn. What madness drove them in there?" Gimli mused.

"Well, you may not believe this, but maybe they fled from the foul and carnivorous beast's that held them captive," Korra remarked sarcastically. "Or, or maybe it was the horse guys with the huge spears, that may or may not be compensating for something, that scared them off, right?"

With Aragorn in the lead, as they ventured into the forest though, the Avatar could without a doubt, understand the Dwarf's point which he made beforehand.

The trees, with their towering bodies, shielded the darkness, preventing all light from piercing through the dense forest. As if it were one whole sentient being, the entire forest seemed to sway in unison, even without the slightest gust of wind.

This observation was, to say the least, unnerving. Gimli curiously swiped at a dark substance on a leaf and was about to place his finger in his mouth before Korra grabbed his arm.

"What are you, three? Don't go tasting random things, especially if it looks like black goo," the bender warned.

Her only response was a few mumbled curse words.

"The air is so closed in here," Boromir noted, looking more uncomfortable by the second.

"This forest is old. Very old. Full of memory... and anger," Legolas pointed out ominously. "The trees... they speak to each other."

As if to support the elfs' claim, deep groans resonated through the forest, causing Gimli to slowly lift his axe. Korra, however, immediately pushed the Dwarf's axe down, shaking her head as she did.

"Aragorn, nad nâ ennas! (Something is out there.)" Legolas disclosed

"Man cenich? (What do you see?)" Aragorn probed, now on high alert.

"Mind speaking in a language we all understand?" Korra interrupted.

Giving no sign of acknowledgement, Legolas only stared off into the distance as his eyes raked the forests dense shadows.

...

"The White Wizard approaches."