((Independent LOTR RP blog for Rumil. I track the tag rumiloflothlorien. Artwork by Nyangsam))
Rumil sat beneath a large mallorn tree, looking around at the forest that he had diligently protected for centuries now. He wondered if it would be the last time that he would get to see the forest in such a way, and the thought of that brought fear into his heart. Tomorrow he was to march with his Lord and Lady to Dol Guldur. The young warden was hesitant to go, but it had been insisted that he join the company. Only the best of the Marchwardens and warriors were to go to Dol Guldur, and while Rumil hardly thought he was the best, he knew better than to argue with the wishes of his Lord and Lady.
Orophin was going as well, but that did little to ease Rumil’s fears. Never did he think that he would be going to war, never did he think that he would have to use the armor that he had worked all morning polishing. He’d waited until the last moment, of course, hoping that the Lady’s mind would change and he would be put in charge of protecting the borders instead. What he hadn’t waited on, was sending a letter to Turmio, requesting him to come to Lothlorien. If he was to go to war, he didn’t want to have any regrets.
Now, it was always risky for a dwarf to dwell near elf settlements. Tyr could recall that one time he’d been forced to stray near Greenwood to deliver a sword to a client - he’d almost been shot down where he stood. Elves, apparently, were not interested why he was there - they just wanted him out of there as soon as possible.
So, a letter to come to Lothlórien… He had mixed feelings about that.
First of all, why did Rúmil want him in Lothlórien? How come he couldn’t come over like he usually did, had something happened? Would the elves of Lórien shoot him down as he approached? Would he even get to Rúmil before he was shot down?
Despite his fears, of course he came. He was a loyal man and the elf was just about the only friend he had. If, uh, you could call him that.
Near a mallorn tree, the dwarf finally spotted his friend, and a sigh of relief was breathed out. Well, he was still alive. So far so good. “‘Ey - blondie,” He called out from a distance, though his tone wasn’t as carefree and gentle as usual. Why did this entire situation make him so very suspicious?
The later it became, the more Rumil began to lose hope that Turmio would actually make it on time. Had the dwarf considered the journey too dangerous? Perhaps his friend had written him and told him that he couldn’t make it. Rumil had neglected to check the post over the last few days, spending most of his time worrying or preparing for the battle ahead. Sighing, he stroked the soft fur of the bunny in his lap. Who would take care of these little darlings if he fell? He closed his eyes and bit his lip. That was not something he wanted to think about.
Relief washed over him when he heard Turmio’s voice, though he looked up from the bunny to make sure that the dwarf really was here and it wasn’t just his imagination. “Tyr…” Rumil gave his friend a lopsided smile. “I’m…I’m really glad that you made it in time.”