Wolves of Isengard
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the LOTR characters, although there were some I wish I did. ;) This story is based on the TTT movie, not the book itself. Marissa is of my own design.
Legolas lept through the grass on long legs well beyond the slow moving caravan behind him. Being lighter on his feet, the elf made an excellent scout for the group heading to the fortress at Helms Deep.
His blue-eyed, hawk-like gaze quickly surveyed the grassy valley below and the hazy horizon in the far distance. Shutting out the clamoring of horse hooves beating down a path and the frightened, exhausted voices that came in only low murmurs, his whole body became tense, his mind suddenly entranced by the realization that they were not alone. Something was coming.
Marissa dipped down for a fraction of a moment, scooping up the little boy that had been walking infront of her, but had hit his toe on a sharp rock and fallen over.
"Shh, don't cry," the twenty four year old told him, hugging the boy who couldn't have been more than three close to her. "We all have to be quiet just a little bit longer," she whispered. Hours ago she had paused long enough to tear away the hem of her long skirt so it would not get caught in the brush, on a rock, making her travel a bit easier.
Pacing amongst the crowd dressed all in black, she tried her best to keep her dark eyes on the King, Theoden, who was leading the lot atop a white horse. She glanced around at the other downtrodden women surrounding her, but not for too long. It frustrated her to think they would rather succumb to their fate blindly rather than at least knowing what was coming. It was not for fear that the raven-haired woman sought his leadership, but more for some indication that their situation was quickly changing for the worse. Very soon her stomach dropped when the king lifted his hand, instructing the group take pause.
"It's a scout!" came the voice of the elf in the lead. Quickly counting at least fifteen of the Isengard wolves racing towards the defenceless women and children, he pulled his Lothlorien bowstring taut and released one yellow-feathered arrow after another. With deadly precision, they sailed through the air, striking down several of the preditors in the distance.
Marissa looked over just in time to see the lanky man called Aragorn racing to the front. All at once the volume of the travelers rose when the blonde haired woman, the niece of the king, tried to reign in her anger long enough to tell Theoden's people to follow her to a safer path.
A terrified streak raced through the crowd as the bumped into each other trying to turn and move down the other side of the hill. Just as Marissa was about to join the chaos of screams and stumbling people, she caught sight of a huge beast, twice her height leaping up over the hill, crushing one of the armored Rohan guards. Rohan riders raced down the hill to meet the goblins atop these giant beasts, striking them down with swords and spears as quickly as they could.
Aware the other refugees were finally making progress away from the scene, Marissa stood in amazement watching the battle unfolding infront of her, so much that she did not see the beast jump down from the cliff above until she heard its approaching growl from behind. Her heartbeat quickened, and just as she turned and pressed her back against the rocky cliff from whence it had jumped, a yellow-feathered arrow sliced through the air striking the animal down. As she glanced over the other side of the hill instinctively looking for her archer, the green-eyed goblin lept from the ground and moaned an otherworldly shriek before he lifted his sword above his head and stormed towards her.
Before she even had a chance to scream, the next arrow flashed past her, the silver tip driving itself deep into the goblin with a thick, wet "thunk" sound before his face found the matted grass.
Without another thought, she lept toward the grey creature and plucked his sword from the ground where he had dropped it. Grabbing ahold of the reigns of one of the white horses running in circles whose rider had been knocked off, she gingerly stepped up into the saddle.
The fresh horse breathed hard as his hooves found the path leading down into the valley. With fire in her dark, focused eyes, she swung with all of her strength at one of the vicious goblins standing below her, knocking it over so the Rohan riders could finish it off. The swift animal under her galloped further into the middle of the conflict where she sliced through the air, dropping two more.
She did not expect the cold fingers to wrap around her ankle, pulling her from her horse. Her forward movement immediately stopped when she hit the ground hard and gasped for the breath that had been forced from her lungs.
"Aragorn!" Legolas shouted to gain his attention. The ranger pulled his sword from the body of a slain orc and glanced up to see the elf whipping both of his sleek blades around effectively slashing through another goblin's armor.
"Legolas!" the dark haired man returned. Legolas nodded to the narrowing grassy spot under the shadow of the cliff to his left and Aragorn nodded in understanding.
Recognizing the shriek, Marissa was barely able to lift the heavy blade in her hand before one of the green-eyed goblins lept ontop of her. The weapon that penetrated his midsection ended his life and all of its weight collapsed onto her, giving her very little room to breathe. Try as she might, it was just too heavy to push off of her.
Feeling dizzy, she began to panic. No one would find her; no one expected she was even there amongst the fighting masses. She was going to die under this thing.
"Are you all right?" came the raspy voice she finally recognized as Aragorn once the limp body was lifted away.
She nodded and sat up, leaning back against the rock wall jutting out of the green grass. He knelt only briefly and touched her shoulder. "Breathe, you need to breathe," he instructed handing her sword back to her before standing again to strike down several of the goblins. They seemed to smell panic and swarm.
"I'm fine," she told him getting to her feet again.
He caught her eyes momentarily. "You put up a good fight," he said with a slight smile before jumping on the back of a wolf with a goblin rider already perched there. Her long, black hair swung around her as she wielded the weapon in her hands with new resolve.
Reaching behind him, Legolas sheathed the long silver blades and exhailed, surveying the area. It appeared they now had control of the situation. The men dressed in green wearing the horse symbol of their king were trodding over the flattened grass, looking for survivors, as Legolas began to do as well.
Because it appeared the battle had ended, Marissa let the dark blade fall from her fingers. She had always assumed it was the most wonderful feeling in the world to achieve victory in a conflict like this, yet there was an overwhelming sense of melancholy hanging over the somber group, including herself.
"Young lady," came a low, thickly accented voice of Gimli from behind her. "Are you quite all right?"
She turned to the dwarf who was leaning on his axe. "I'm fine," she told him, pointing to one of the yellow-feathered arrows nearby. "Those aren't goblin arrows."
"No, my lady. They're from Lorien."
"Aragorn!" the blonde elf shouted, his steely gaze searching for his familiar face amongst every man standing or lying.
Gimli excused himself and she watched as the sturdy dwarf met the elf one moment and in the next wielded his axe menacinly close to the throat of a goblin on the ground near the next cliff.
Stepping a little closer, she was surprised to see the usually poised, stoic elf become enraged as his tall frame bent to grab onto the fallen creature's armor.
"You lie!" she heard him say before Legolas released him and sprang to the edge of the rocky drop off. The dwarf and then the king himself soon came to stand next to the elf. Her mind raced, desperately seeking the answer to this odd behavior. Finally, with wide eyes and parted lips, she realized what had happened. Aragorn.
When Theoden stepped away, Legolas lingered silently, watching the water rush by below.
"Come along, young lady," Gimli said lightly touching her arm. "We need to get back on the path and keep moving."
She heard the dwarf's words, but felt so completely compelled to join Legolas still looking over the edge that she did not respond. Quietly she glided up to the ledge where he stood. His cloak rippled in the breeze but his body remained rigid.
"I'm sorry about what has happened." He did not reply, and for a long moment she was sure her quiet words had floated away on the wind that whipped through her hair. Finally he glanced from Aragorn's silver pendant in his palm to Marissa who had not left but waited for him to say something, anything.
When his blue eyed gaze found hers, she was taken aback. Something sturred deep inside, something she could not yet put her finger on but it brought warm tears to her eyes.
His eyes searched hers, as if he were seeking some kind of answers from her, but she knew none. Only that the shock and sadness across his beautifully chisled features almost made her hurt physically.
"And thank you," she finished, though continued to stare at him with wide eyes.
"For what?"
"Your Lorien arrows... You saved my life. Thank you."
At that his features became deadly serious again and his eyes turned almost as hard and cold as the sharp tone in his voice. "What did you think you were doing? You should have gone with the others."
"Now, now lad," Gimli said warningly.
"If you had gone with the others," Legolas pushed, "I would not have had to watch after you. I might have been able to save Aragorn. What were you thinking?"
"You're right," she finally found words to speak. "I'm sorry I distracted you. I'm sorry I killed your friend. As for what I was thinking," she said with a barely tamed flame of anger in her eyes, "I was thinking these orcs and goblins and things killed my entire family. I saw them all die horrible deaths right infront of me and there was nothing I could do about it. I want vengance."
"Almost all of your people has lost someone. You are no different from any of them except for your ill-timed retaliation."
Seeing the veil of grief fall over her fair features, he wished he had not said what he had. He sensed how wounded she was, and even allowed his mind to wander inside what she was feeling, but it was only momentary. He too was wounded and somehow unwilling to compromise that.
Unable to stand for any more of his words, she turned and began for the Rohan riders who were groupind together before setting out after the refugees.
Watching the woman dressed in black glide across the grass, Legolas's lips parted and dark eyebrows rose slighty. "Gimli, I..."
"I know," replied the dwarf picking up his axe, "sometimes you've got the passion and anger of the dwarves. Not one of my best qualities that has seemed to rub off on you. Just let her be and I'll see to her later."
"Later" never came, but Gimli had intended it that way. The lad would find some way to work this out on his own.
********
Once they reached Helms Deep, a banquet was held in honor of the couragous Aragorn. The hall was silent throughout most of the procession, except when Theoden spoke, toasting the memory of their fallen commrade.
After the dinner when the people dispersed to settle into their lodging for the night, Marissa escaped down the long stone hall and out into the cold night air. Wrapping her arms around herself, she stepped to the edge of the circular wall and looked to her right to see the other huge wall land-locking the fortress.
She exhailed slowly, her warm breath streamed over her reddened lips in a long puff of smoke. But despite the temperature, she felt like being alone here. She couldn't remember the last time she had been able to really think for herself and not work instinctively for survival. Even in Rohan it had been a struggle because she was the only one occupying her family's home. It meant doing all of the work all of the time.
Looking up into the cloudless night, she watched the motionless specks of light in the sky, thinking of nothing and everything at the same time. Lost in thought, she did not notice the elf step lightly over the stone floor until he came to stand beside her.
"They're going to figure out where we've come. Sauron's forces are going to find us," Marissa said solomnly. "We're all going to die, aren't we."
He squinted sternly straight ahead and after a long moment in thought he answered, "I do not know."
She nodded, becoming increasily frustrated by the enigmatic elf. She had sensed the answer in his voice, yet why would he not tell her directly? "You do not have to protect me from the truth you know. I've lived knowing I may die any moment for the last twenty-four years of my life. Not only do I expect it," she said, her voice lowering, "but mostly I welcome it."
The astonished, sorrow-stricken elf observed her silent featureswondering how she could speak so matter-of-factly about her life. "That should not be so," he told her quietly, taking a step closer.
"It is so, Legolas," she replied, her clear eyes looking up into his. He recognized the hint of fear that she tried to conceal with a look of indifference across her beautiful features now lit by the flickering orange light of the torches posted on the stone walls.
"I am sorry about earlier today, if I said..." he began, but seeing her back away and the defensive stance she took, he knew the words meant nothing, not even to him. "Your family. I am sorry they lost their lives and that you lost them."
"I shouldn't have been there today. You were right. And I'm sorry I cost you your friend's... life."
"I should never have insinuated that you did," he replied plainly, honestly.
"Thank..." her voice trailed off. He noticed her lower lip begin to tremble as she fought the emotion hidden under her cold, self-preserving exterior.
Quickly regaining her composure, she squinted at him disbelievingly, so he continued. "Your life means more than what you think it does."
"Yes. But to who? I should go," she breathed, slipping away from him. "They need me inside to..."
"Aragorn would have you believe it," he called after her. "He gave his life believing his people were worth dying for."
She lifted her arms to the sides and yelled back at him as he still stood against the wall. "He believed incorrectly."
With a new kind of anger rising up inside of him, on light feet he stalked to where she was in a matter of seconds. "You cannot tell me my ally, my friend, fought and died for nothing."
"I don't know what to tell you then." She could feel the heat, the energy radiating from his whole body as he stood so close to her, his striking blue eyes staring deeply into hers.
He did not scare her, of that she was sure. At least not physically anyway. But there was definately something about him that troubled her. She sensed his words could somehow cut deeper than most and it felt as if that piercing gaze could almost see into her heart and soul. She suddenly found herself wishing he would leave her alone.
"You're asking me to find hope in the unspoken words of a dead man whom I never even knew?" she asked him quietly.
He realized she was not trying to be difficult this time. For a moment he thought she really wanted an answer, but she turned and walked away from him again.
"I... would have you believe it then," came his beautiful voice that seemed to float all around her like a warm blanket. She stopped and waited. "You are worth fighting for, worth dying for..." She jumped feeling his hands softly clasping her shoulders. "And worth living for."
When she turned towards him then, he was able to see the warm tears streaking down over her pale cheeks. He gently ran a thumb over her cheek, wiping away the tears and she closed her eyes. Allowing herself a moment to become lost in his touch, her mind wandered to thoughts of quietness and safety.
"I am truely sorry," he said softly, drawing her back to the reality in which they stood. She exhaled sharply and nodded. As a nervous habit she collected all of her silky black hair and layed it over her left shoulder.
Reaching up to her face, he stroked a fallen strand of hair behind her ear and then ran two long fingers down her slender exposed neck. She sighed plesantly and stepped into him, placing a hand against his chest. She could feel his heart beating under her flattened palm, even through the layers of fabric he was wearing.
A very slight smile lifted the corners of his mouth when she looked up at him and blushed. A beautiful smile graced her gentle features and she could not help but touch her fingertips over the fair prince's cheek, down to his chisled jawline, then back up to his soft, warm lips.
Long eyelashes closed over her dark eyes and her reddened lips parted slightly. She didn't think about what she was doing, nor did she particularly care. All that she knew was she couldn't think of the last time she felt like this. And she wished and hoped that he could sense it, feel it, or see it.
Apparantly he had because momentarilly she felt his lips brush lightly over hers. One of his hands gently tilted her head up and his lips fell onto hers again, kissing her tenderly, deftly, perfectly.
The elves were infinantly the more sensual creatures and some humans experiencing the heightened emotional or physical state found it simply intollerable, although not by choice. When transfered to humans, Elvish sensuality could sometimes become so intense that it could actually cause physical pain.
Sensing she was already reaching her peak, he backed away and she shuddered, releasing the building tension.
"Are you all right?" he asked touching her shoulder to gain her attention, but not leaving his hand there too long. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt her.
"That was... amazing," she told him breathlessly. Specks of light sparkled in her eyes, hinting at the rekindled warmth flickering inside of her. Somehow she looked softer, calmer. "I've never experienced anything like that."
"What is it?" he asked in response to her perplexed expression.
"I don't know how to explain it. But I think I heard you talking in my mind just now," she looked up and he nodded that yes, in fact, that was possible. She thought for a long moment and then wrapped her arms around herself as the tears came to her eyes again, but this time for a different reason. "You think I'm beautiful."
She grinned, certain she saw him blush this time. "There's so much I want to ask," she told him quickly, "so much I want to know."
"Yes but for now you need to rest," he said running the back of his hand over her cheek.
"I am exhausted," she admitted, catching his hand and wrapping both of hers around it.
He lifted an eyebrow with mock irritation. "I know you are. That's why I said it."
She half smiled, finding herself too tired to do much else. "Will you come find me later?"
"Later," he agreed. "I'm on watch now."
As she moved away from the wall, she hesitated for a moment, not wanting to leave. Just before she stepped inside, she turned and watched the sleek sillhouette of his body against the stary night sky.
Shifting his gaze only momentarilly, his dark blue eyes fell upon her just as her shapely, shadowed figure disappeared inside. With a sigh he returned to his search for orcs in the distance. It was an difficult situation to be in now that Aragorn was dead and he could sense the impending war inching closer to Helms Deep by the moment.
How would these country folk ever be able to defend themselves? Even if he fought along side them, it would be a losing battle and he knew it.
With a focused, contemplative air and a clenched jaw, he weighed the situation carefully.