Story of a Farm Boy

Roairna Drakuthaili Elrondion was originally just Roairna. He never needed to use his last name, his parents never said anything about it. A boy, naturally compatible with the wolves and able to stray them from the village and treat them as people. He cared for all animals, normally being the one to take care of the horses and chicks about their home. As unmentioned as he was, he did much to influence the lives of the Heroes that protected the Ring and saved Middle Earth.

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Roa was cheerfully unaware of a darkness approaching, of an evil that was to be unstopped for long years to come. "Mama! Papa! I'm going to get more feed for the chickens!" He called, his hyper eight-year-old self smiling happily. "Alright, Roa. Don't get so much like last time! Just enough for now sweetheart." His mother called from inside as she cooked. "The wagon's down, Roairna. You'll have to walk. Be wary of the roads, my boy." His father sighed, leaning on his staff that he used as a walking stick. "Yes mama, okay papa! I'll be back quick!" He chirped as he gave his dad a hug and ran off. Unknown to him, things weren't going to stay cheerful...

He continued happily down the road, two of his wolf companions bounding after him obediently with happy yips and barks. They remained blissfully oblivious until a terrifying screech startled them. Roa screamed, ducking into a bush just as a Nazgul came riding down the road. It hissed, the horse it road rearing back with a haunting neigh before slamming it's hooves to the ground. The stallion, as Roa noticed by it's build, turned it's head towards him. Roa's heart lurched to a dead stop as his eyes widened. "No..." He whispered before he could stop himself. The Nazgul looked in his direction before screeching once again.

Roa screamed, diving out of the bush and running as fast as his legs could carry him. It was futile, he couldn't out-run a horse on foot and he learned this in a deadly moment. Pain, like a rapid fire, shot through his body as he was slammed to the ground by the feral stallion. Roa gasped out a wheezing breath as he felt ribs snap from his harsh landing. Bright spots appearing behind his lids as his body went numb from the pain. He struggled to breath, coughing harshly and expelling blood but the sight horrified him deeply. "N-no... I don't want to die!" He wheezed out, blood dribbling down his chin. Why couldn't the day be as it was just earlier...? Cheerful, happy, empty of pain and the fear of death.

Roa whimpered loudly as he tried to force his battered body up before falling down once more. "Ssslave..." The Nazgul hissed out, grabbing Roa by the scruff and riding back to his little farm. Roa couldn't comprehend why... it made no sense! He was dying, yet this... THING was taking him home...? Oh how he was wrong. Roa screamed in pain as he was thrown to the ground, shuddering from the pain. "Roa!" Twin voices cried for their beloved and dying child. "Mage..." The offending Nazgul hissed, two Uruks holding his parents each moving Roa's father away and towards his child. "You monster!! What have you done to my boy?!" He shouted before wincing as the uruk punched him. "You... change him to a wolf." The Nazgul demanded, ignoring the man's cries and insults. "Or he dies..." He screeched, causing both adults to cower.

Roa's father shivered, taking his staff once the Uruks let him go. He gave a sad look to his wheezing child before muttering the transformation spell. He'd make it a permanent one, allowing Roa to change into a human again once he reached the correct age but otherwise turning Roa into a genetic Wolf for his own sake. Roa gave a shriek of pain as he was changed, turning into a wolf with a flash of light and the sound of something tearing. His once eight-year-old form now that of a young wolf. His injuries mended but his memories fuzzy or otherwise gone. The Nazgul screeched and the wolf's golden-slitted eyes snapped open. His Grey pelt now black and his soft, reddish-brown markings a deep bloody red. The wolf got to its feet, stretching before padding to the Nazgul. The creature had the Uruks chain him before letting him go, a chain on his left front paw and a chain dangling heavily on his neck. The Uruks chanted 'Kill! Kill! Kill!' and what once was their beloved son was now a savage beast. Roa's mother broke into sobs, hanging her head while his father closed his eyes and took a breath. "One day you will remember, Roairna. One day, you will know the truth, Drakuthaili." He hissed, the name meaning Demon-wolf in Roa's new tongue. Roa snarled, launching forward and snapping his jaws onto his father's throat and simply tearing the man apart. His mother screamed in terror and sadness before she was also murdered by the twisted wolf. The Nazgul gave a haunting, screeching laugh as it rode off with the Uruks following behind. Roa stood there, before padding off into the forest where he soon fainted. Many wolves gathered about him, the village he once called home destroyed and burning and the villagers all dead or dying.

Years upon years in the form of a wolf, doing as the others did and living past many in his pack, he learned of his seventeen-year-old form. He screamed in shock, looking himself over in surprise before calming down. 'This is so weird... the elder said I was special... I hope he didn't mean like this...' He thought worriedly, looking at his tattered attire before wobbly walking back to his pack on shaky feet. Then the war began... many of the wolves fled or fended off those on their territory as Roa rushed through the forest before standing on an over-grown root. He saw the horror, Sauron; strike down someone who fought to drive him back. Seeing the pointy-eared man fall, he let out a long and sorrowful howl that seemed to stun all throughout the field. He jumped down, rushing forward to the elf in his shining blue armor. "You shall not die..." He growled out, dragging the corpse of an Uruk closer. The large wolf looked at the approaching Uruks, launching at them before throwing them aside as he returned to the heavily wounded elf-king, Gil-Galad.

He murmured out a spell, the Uruk taking Gil-Galad's form in a false body but doing little to help the Elf-King. Roa used some of his own energy to help stop the bleeding. He watched the hesitant look cross the elf's expression as well as the turmoil and despair that lingered in his gaze once he struggled to his feet, a very difficult action with his side torn and destroyed as it was from the attack of Sauron's mace. "Sauron will kill you where you sit- or stand, elf-lord.... Do you not wish to live?" He asked quietly, ears tilting back in confusion. "Your army fights proudly, despite the thought of you dead.... many wish you to live on if they could take your place." He barked softly.

His head bowed, "I would live if I left yes but if my people saw me retreating then they would lose all hope......." He lifted his face and looked upon the wolf, "If I remain and fight for the hopes of my people and they see I still live then their spirits will be renewed. But I know in the state my body is in I’d not last but a scant ten minutes at most....." The wolf raised his head with a slight tilt at the Elf's reply. "Then I offer myself to help you in this fight." The wolf said, going over to Gil-Galad's spear and picking it up before walking back to him. "If I give Sauron enough of a distraction with the false body, call for a retreat. It is better than human and elves alike being slaughtered like pigs, yes?" He questioned, though muffled slightly before placing the spear down.

Gil-Galad closed his fair silver eyes in thought and opened them. His eyes were sad but held a understanding. "You and I both know, my body is too broken to even wield my spear properly for it is a two handed weapon and not single." He picked his beloved weapon up and held it point down and the blade resting upon the ground, "My people believe me dead..... and so they shall," He weakly and pain-stakingly made his way over to a rather well armored minion of Sauron's that lay dead and removed the long black cloak and adorned it. "I will meld into the shadows and fade into history as my body recovers and I will watch my people recover. I cannot call a retreat, for this is to be the final battle of this age and Sauron shall be defeated this day." Gil-Galad took a step and fell to a knee and was close enough and laid a hand upon the coat of the wolf to keep from falling over completely.

The wolf lightly nuzzled the elf, ears twitching once more. "You do what you think is best." He murmured, licking Gil-Galad's cheek, "Do you have enough strength to get onto my back?" He tilts his head in questioning. Gil-Galad nodded his hooded head and with a cry of pain from the strain he pulled himself onto the back of the giant wolf. "My spear will be left here.....so that my people will have a tangible item to remember as will my crown..." He reached up and removed the circlet that adorned his head and let it fall onto the corpse of the Orc that was playing the part of him. He looked to the spear he left laying on the ground; he closed his eyes and turned his head away. "I am ready...." The wolf gave another long howl before quickly moving away from the battlefield, not looking back as he went through the gates of Mordor and down the path.

Gil-Galad held tightly to the wolf's fur with his one good hand and used his legs to also stay seated even though his side screamed and his arm throbbed. He kept his face void and simply watched the path ahead and watched as they made it past the white city, Minas Tirith. Roa snorted quietly but kept running for the elf's sake as the fatigue slowly began to catch up to him. He knew that soon he'd need to stop for a breather and drink but until then, he would keep going. The black cloak billowed out behind them and the elf king slowly moved his broken arm to hold his mangled side. He clutched the wolf's fur tighter and leaned down. He was feeling his strength wane. Roa glanced back, angling to where he ran on the edge of the path before slowing to a trot to a few trees clustered together. He carefully and gently lay down so it would be easier for the elf to get off without much trouble.

Gil-Galad rolled off the wolf and laid on his back, facing the sky. He closed his eyes and focused simply on breathing. He needed treatment. Without it these injures would claim him in time. "I never got your name my friend.....I am Gil-Galad." With a small whine, the wolf replied, "The last I remember, my name is Roairna." The wolf promptly sat down before turning into his human form. "I'll find some herbs, water and food for you, okay?" He said worriedly. Still the elf kept his eyes closed but he nodded his head. Roa would run off, curiously looking around for an animal of sorts as his golden-slitted eyes quickly looked back and forth. The Elf remained were he rolled off of Roa. He opened his eyes and locked his gaze onto the stars that now shown above.

Roa returned later, a small bundle of herbs in one arm as well as a small gourd of water as he carried a satchel of cooked meat in the other hand. He sat next to the elf, grabbing a hollowed fruit out of the satchel of meat and began mixing the herbs and lightly grinding them with his claws. Gil-Galad lay quietly, watching Roairna with his silver gaze. With grunt he slowly starts removing what he could of his armor with one arm and hand to work with. He managed to unbuckle his Cuirass and Hauberk. As well as remove the armor upon his broken arm with great effort. Though he had unbuckled the armor upon his chest and middle he had not the energy to fully remove it. That and it would take careful hands to remove it as rent, torn and bent metal curved into his body. Roa crawled to the side of Gil-Galad, looking over the damage with a brow raised before he cautiously and carefully began removing the armor with the tender care of a worried child. Gil-Galad gritted his teeth and squeezed his eyes shut and sweat beaded upon his brow. As the armor was pealed further off, metal started tearing away flesh as it was pulled free. The elf cried out as the last of the armor and the toughest part was removed before he panted in pain and held is eyes closed as he felt feint from the pain and long ride.

Roa flinched, frowning before reaching over the elf for the water and herbs. He sighed quietly before pouring a little water into the herbal mix, then water on the wound to clean it. Gil-Galad forced his body to remain still as Roairna did what needed to be done despite the pain. The worst part would be the mending of his shattered ribs. But for now that would have to wait. He took strength in the stars above as they shone their soothing light upon him and this child. He finally opened his eyes and watched as Roa cleaned and treated his grievous wound. Roa gently placed the herbal mix on the wound, brows furrowed before pulling out some bandages. He sat Gil-Galad up before he began wrapping the bandages around his torso. It was certainly a sight to behold, a boy who looked no more then perhaps twelve tending to the heavily wounded elven king in his blue and gold armor seemingly unaffected by the wounds the elf had on his being. By the looks of it, three ribs were most likely shattered but still able to be mended if taken to the correct person.

The elf grunted as Roa sat him up and wrapped his torso firmly. "Hannon le....melon nin." Roa smiled slightly before offering the water to him. Erenion took the water in his good hand and drank deeply before he handed the canteen back to Roa. "Thank you." Roa gave a quick smile before placing the satchel of cooked meat next to the elf curiously. Erenion lay back against the small tree, then looked to his broken arm; it had to be set so he would not lose use of it. Though he was also hungry yes but first the arm. "I need you to set my arm penneth," He turned his silver gaze onto Roa, "Can you do that for me?" Roa blinked before nodding. Thinking a moment, he immediately climbed into a tree and looked for two arm-length branches, then something to use as a sling before coming up with the perfect idea.

Erenion leaned his head back and laid his head against the bark of the tree and closed his eyes. Surely the battle was over by now. And since Orc and other spawns of Mordor were not out running amok, His alliance had to have won.......but there was no burst release of energy, no destruction of Mount Doom. Roa dropped down out of the tree in a crouch, tearing his own shirt apart to fashion a sling. He went over to Gil-Galad, sitting in front of him before looking to his arm. He tilts his head before inching closer and sighing. "I apologize, but this will hurt." He said quietly, then took the elf's arm and snapped the bone back into place. He winced at the sound before he began tying the sticks gently to his arm, making sure the knots were firm then placed the elf's arm into the sling. Erenion gasp as the bone was set and squeezed his eyes shut. He kept his breathing under control as Roa splinted his arm and and tied it up tight to keep the bones in place.

Roa lightly petted the elf's hair, his ears and tail appearing. "S-Sorry...” He murmured. Erenion relaxed as the pain subsided to a dull throb. His side still hurt but thanks to the herb the pain was numbed. "You did what needed to be done penneth, thank you." He opened his eyes as both his and Roa's stomachs made noise. "I think we both need nourishment now." Roa giggled cutely, wagging his tail before nudging the satchel closer to the elf then shifting into a wolf and wandering off for something fresh to eat. Erenion picked up a piece of the cooked meat and slowly ate it, his eyes wandering back to the stars.

Roa returned later on, licking his chops contentedly before laying next to Gil-Galad as he began licking his paws clean. Soon they slept, ill at ease until the morn. Roa rose his head, looking the the Elf that used him as a pillow and form of comfort. He let out a slight sigh, waiting for the elf to awake. They traveled after eating and drinking, cleaning their faces and making way to a village soon after, Erenion's wounds needing to be taken care of. Roa realized, after several moments, they were in Rohan but the thought was banished from his mind as he tended to the elf he called 'Daugion', his brother, for the long time they were there mostly in the care of an Old Healer. Erenion had many adventures there with Roa, one of which gaining a stallion of his own as well as many other things. The stubborn elf refused to stay in bed, making his recovery just a tad bit longer but as easy as one could have with a mending arm and side.

A long time later, with Erenion and Roairna living in a cabin in the midst of Fangorn, Roa began to change. He lost his smile and soon became secluded within himself. He couldn't deal with all he'd done as his slowly remembered what murders he'd committed. One day, he simply vanished into the wind as if he'd never been there. There was a note awaiting the thought-to-be-dead Elf-King, Erenion Gil-Galad, on the counter in the cabin in Roa's practiced writing.

'I'm sorry that I left without telling you. There are things that haunt me, caused by the ghostly rider I learned to be a Nazgul. My abilities are not natural-born, as I first thought. I can't remember much other then death... it scares me. Perhaps we'll meet during better times...? If not- don't worry. I'll behave as best I can. I enjoyed being with you and I'll hold these memories close. I'll find something for myself, something worth these powers of mine.
With a lot of wolf love and grins, Roairna Drakuthali.
Your Draugminaion, the wolf of distinction at your call.'

Also on the page was a small, incredibly detailed paw-print on the bottom right-hand corner. Unbeknownst to the young Roa, his companion gave chase to try and keep him safe, to persuade him he didn't need to leave but the sight of an ebon stallion... chasing him.. It terrified Roairna beyond any means for it reminded him of the same stallion that hurt him so many years ago. That haunting moment that nearly killed him... he couldn't- Wouldn’t- allow himself to be near that nightmare. So he screamed, so horribly frightened, then bolted with the extra boost of adrenaline and managed to get away, his tracks so scrambled in his haste that it was almost untraceable, so it worried the Elf-King, but even with his heart heavy with the thought, he sadly turned and went back to his cabin as his starlight-silver eyes dimmed sadly. He sighed to himself, looking to the darkening sky. They would meet again; he was sure and believed reverently that the innocent child that nursed him to health would still be as he was. A cheery child, bubbling with hope and an almost unstoppable amount of excitement and energy. He desperately pleaded to the stars that Roa would be taken in by a family, one that would love and care for him as the boy needed, not to twist him into a fiend. Oh how wrong he would be for most of Roa's life, until that fateful day between Roa and Elrond.

(TBC Next up: Story of the Witch King's servant, the beginnings of Roairna Drakuthaili Elrondion)