The woods of Mirkwood were heavy somehow, filled with strange noises and odd feelings.
Elrohir and his wife, Lalorn, were walking under the eaves. Almost out from under the branches after having stayed in the woodland realm for a number of days with Lalorn's family.
The trees were still thick but Elrohir could see the end of the path up ahead leading out of the woods.
The leaves crunched under their feet, a orange-brown carpet beneath their feet, Lalorn's hands brushed the trees as they passed, the branches rustling with her touch. Her dark hair hung in waves to her waist. Her eyes were a dark blue, like a midnight sky. She was short for an elf, standing only five foot five, and had a light spray of freckles across her nose.
Elrohir had been married to her for ten years. They had been the happiest years of his life.
The sun was going down and they planned to make a camp just outside the wood on the open plain. As they exited the woods the sun was just above the horizon and cast a russet glow over the whole scene. They didn't want to risk a fire that night, so their camp was easily set up, sleeping rolls were spread out on the ground and Elrohir took first watch.
He watched his wife sleep, her face on her hands. He had always wondered at why she slept like that,and he thought it was very endearing. He watched the moon as it carved a shallow arc across the sky. Two more hours of watch before he would wake Lalorn for her shift. The stars were bright, and he could see Erendil shining above him.
—-/—/—/—
There was thirty minutes left in his watch when Elrohir heard a rustle in the normally still trees.
He pulled sword from its sheath with a soft shring and gazed into the dark woods. Nothing was forthcoming. And he had just begun to relax, but before he could sheath his blade, something shot out Of the woods.
"Yrch!"
Lalorn was up in an instant, her long fighting knife clutched in her hand.
Elrohir only had seconds before the first orc was on him, he quickly stabbed it in the gut before whirling to face the orcs that kept streaming out of the treeline. Soon he and Lalorn were separated. He could hardly keep the orcs at bay, there had to be at least ten on him. It was like a dance, a whirl that he knew he would hardly remember tomorrow. He stabbed one orc in the chest before spinning to sink his blade into the neck of another. The orcs numbers were dwindling and he had just killed the last of the press around him. His left arm throbbed painfully from were one of the orcs has opened a long gash from his shoulder to elbow. He turned to see Lalorn fighting off the last three orcs around her. He was running towards her when a huge weight landed on his back. A warg.
"And where do you think you're going pretty?" A harsh grating voice asked from atop the animal.
Elrohir stayed silent.
"Mmm, not in the mood for answers? Fine we don't need ya anyways."
The warg pressed down harder on Elrohir's back and he struggled to breath.
His injured arm was forced painfully against the ground and he fought the urge to cry out in pain. The orc grunted something and the warg shifted. Elrohir could feel it's hot breath on the back of his neck. He knew the end was coming then. There was no way he could escape. He only hoped Lalorn would have the sense to run.
He closed his eyes and breathed out a silent prayed to the Valar for his wife.
The wargs teeth descended and he heard a sound. A shout.
"Ai, Hakuu!"
So the Valar weren't listening.
The warg's Head turned and Elrohir could hear the orc's voice above him.
"Oh, well look at that."
Elrohir could see the orc's boots at it jumped from his mount. No. He decided. Uruk hai. The warg however, didn't move.
The uruk hai made slow progress towards Lalorn.
Lalorn.
No.
He had to help her. He twisted, but the warg was immovable and it's claws only extended to rest against his shoulders in warning. He had a knife in his left boot if he could only reach it. He pushed his arm down under the warg, screaming as the deep gash ground into the dirt and pebbles. The uruk hai didn't notice him, or didn't care.
The knife was inches away from his fingers. He stretched farther but he couldn't budge the animal on top of him. The knife was so close.
Lalorn was locked in a desperate battle with the uruk hai, barely parrying his blows on time as they rained down on her. She was pushed to her knees.
The uruk hai pushed down on her until she was sprawled out on the ground. All Elrohir could do was watch helplessly.
He stretched as far as he could, his fingers touched the hilt of his knife.
But he was too late, the uruk hai stabbed Lalorn in the side, between her ribs. There was so much blood, Elrohir screamed.
The rest was a blur. The knife suddenly in his hand. Stabbing the warg and pushing it away. The uruk hai coming after him and throwing his knife it it's throte. Crawling over to Lalorn and pulling her to his chest.
Sindarin Translations:
Yrch!: orc
Ai, Hakuu!: hey, idiot!
Thanks for reading. This is my first fic ever. Please be kind. I like constructive criticism but please no flames.
Hannon le!
Bookworm-soul
