Chapter 2 Orcs!

Aragorn held his own against the orcs for a long time. The forest was thick and the road narrow at that point, so it was only possible to come at the man from behind or in front of him. Not many could fit in at once. The bodies began to pile up and the orcs had to push the carcasses out of the way to gain access to him. The orcs began to fall back and Aragorn thought he had won until a huge orc, who must have been the chieftain, stepped forward. He was as tall as two men and looked anything but kind. Not only was he huge, but he had a simitar as long as Aragorn's arm.

I am dead, Aragorn thought.

There was no way to go toward Rivendell, the orc bodies were stacked too high and the only way back to the mountain was through the orc chieftain. Aragorn braced himself for the attack.

The strokes were heavy and sent bursts of shock up his arms every time their blades met. Suddenly the orc changed his tactic...he punched Aragorn square in the stomach and pain exploded in his abdomen. He thought he heard the snapping of ribs, but wasn't sure. He almost doubled over, but knew that doing so would be fatal. After that, to move was agony. He figured the orc must have damaged something, and his sudden movements weren't helping. He stumbled and only just dodged to avoid getting his head cut off, but the blade bit deep into his forearm as he flailed to stay upright. Aragorn knew he had little time left, he felt the adrenaline pour through him and knew it was the only thing keeping him on his feet. He rolled under the beast's legs, and almost died right there, the pain was so great, as it was he screamed, but this, fortunately added to the element of surprise and he was able to behead the thing.

He tried desperately to go toward home, but found it very hard to breathe, let alone climb the orc corpses that were blocking his path. The forest spun sharply and he had to lean against a tree to keep from falling. The pain in his stomach made him throw up, and he caught the glimpse of blood in the moonlight; then he knew he was in big trouble. The world began to fade into a grey fog and as the sun rose over Rivendell, the pain began to dull and he thought of all the people he wished he could see before he died. All the people who would mourn him. Their faces came to his mind then faded away one by one. Legolas, with his blond hair and joyful personality, always the loyal friend. Elrond, who took him and his mother in, when they had no where to go, who guarded from the darkness, with great risk to himself. Elladan and Elrohir the rambunctious twins, the only siblings he had, they loved him and looked after him. He saw all of them, their faces lined with worry and grief and he wanted to apologize, but found he had no breath to do so. Arwen's beloved face came then, but her lovely face did not fade from his view.

"Estel, Estel keep breathing, please hold on to life. I will get you to father."

"Arwen?" he croaked out, breathless against his pain which had returned with new furry.

"Yes it's Arwen, it's your Arwen. Where do you hurt?"

He almost laughed everywhere, he thought. "My...stomach --- I think that orc... broke some ribs."

Her own stomach tightened sickeningly at the weakness in his voice, she knew he was close to death, she could see it in his face. She took him under the armpits.

"All right, let's get you home," she said lightly.

"I can't walk."

"All is well Estel, Glorfindel lent me Asfoloth." The horse neighed and stamped impatiently, as if he knew that Aragorn was in danger.

"We had better...uhn...hurry," his mink had cleared somewhat, but the pain was intense. Arwen bound his bleeding arm and helped him mount the horse, then they sped toward Rivendell; Hope and Evenstar.