Hello all! Yes, I am finally back! Everyone start your ewok dance of joy! I'll pop up a new chapter of Exploring Darkness today as well, but I may need to go off and swallow some lunch first—depends how long it takes me to get this up. I want to be there before the cafeteria closes all their lines but wilting-salad-bar and droopy-pizza. ;) But the important thing is, I am finally back!!! It may take a while to return to my previous schedule, I have to get into the swing of my new classes, and I'm also helping out with the Flame of Arnor Awards over at lotrfanfictionDOTcom—reading the nominations for two of the categories and picking the top three to be voted on—so I need to make those two things my top priorities right now. But don't worry, updates will appear far faster than they did while I was home—you can count on that!
Chapter Nine: Pursuit
"Fuiniel!" a faint whisper laced with tension wove through the dark canopy of trees.
The dark haired elfling stopped abruptly, crouching low on the thin branches beneath her soft booted feet. "Legolas?" she breathed back, her own voice no louder than the rustle of leaves.
"Listen!" the younger elfling hissed.
After only a moment, Fuiniel's pale face flickered, a shadow drawing across her brow briefly. "Yrch," she spat under her breath. Gray eyes locked with blue ones in the darkness of the starlit night. "They have picked up our scent," she said quietly.
A brief hint of fear gleamed in Legolas's eyes, but it was quickly smothered by grim determination—and a trust that frightened Fuiniel. He should not trust in her, and yet he did. Yet there was no time to waste on that now. Now, they had to run.
"We must go faster," she whispered, hoping that his wounds would not protest at the strain. He nodded calmly, no hint of apprehension in his level gaze. "They have not yet found our trail, but if we linger their noses will do the work for them." She hesitated a moment. She had grown used to having no one to rely on but herself, yet Legolas had heard the yrch first. Perhaps his ears were sharper than hers, something she could use… "Can you pinpoint the direction from which they come?" she asked quietly.
Legolas paused and tilted his head to one side, listening closely. Fuiniel sat perfectly still, not even her breathing audible in the quiet night as she waited. "That way," Legolas replied at last, pointing into the darkness.
Fuiniel nodded, deciding to trust the elfling. She could not tell exactly where the yrch were, only that they were somewhere to the southeast, until they got closer—something that she did not intend to allow them to do. "We should change direction. If we head west, we may move beyond their range. We can skirt the very borders of Greenwood, and circle around to the palace from the north."
Legolas nodded in silent agreement, and the two children quickly set out. Their footsteps were silent on the thin branches, their movement making no more noise than the softly rustling leaves through which they fled. The half-moon overhead bathed the forest in a pale, silvery light that shone brightly to Elf-eyes.
But the darkness was there, slowly creeping closer on foul black feet…
………………
Urglug cursed the elfling brat-prince under his breath as he ran. The Master was upset at him now. He knew that the only reason he wasn't dead or slowly dying under the Master's tools was because he was out here, looking for the elf-brat. If he came back without it, he would be lucky if the Master was so enraged he killed him right away. If not…Urglug shuddered, remembering how long it had taken Sharnu to die. He had enjoyed the spectacle at the time, but now, picturing himself in Sharnu's place, he found that it seemed a lot less enjoyable.
Pushdug elf-brat…pushdug Klughig…it was all his fault the elf-brat-prince escaped in the first place, but would that stop the Master from blaming Urglug? If Klughig had just kept a hold of the bratlling, instead of whining and complaining like an elf-maiden, they would have been fine. The elf-brat would have been taken to the Master and Urglug would have been honored for capturing the offspring of gold-head-slaughter-son Thranduil, instead of…this.
Urglug cursed again, louder this time. He had everything within his reach, and then idiot Klughig had to go spoiling it all. He almost regretted beheading the fool; he would have liked to make him suffer, like Urglug might soon be suffering. But he supposed that there really hadn't been time to properly make Klughig regret his stupidity, and besides, at that point he hadn't yet noticed that the elf-brat had escaped.
Suddenly Urglug's head snapped up, and he sniffed at the air. Foul, yellowed, broken teeth curled into a feral grin in black flesh as he caught the scent. Elf. "Come on, boys," he bellowed to the troops behind him. "I smell ilid!" he shouted. Elf!
With a wild yell, the yrch picked up their pace, racing after the tantalizing smell of Elf-flesh. With any luck, Urglug thought, the elf-brat would have found a friend or two they could eat. The princeling was off-limits—he was to go to the Master, unharmed—but anyone with him…
Spirits considerably brighter, Urglug sprinted through the thick forest under cover of comfortable darkness. Things were looking up.
………………..
"Legolas," the girl asked quietly without slowing her pace or glancing back to look at him, "know you where we are?"
Legolas paused for half a moment, balanced lightly on the thin branch, and looked around carefully. Running lightly, he quickly caught up with Fuiniel. "Nay," he whispered back. "Why? Where are we?"
Now it was Fuiniel's turn to pause. Her steps faltered and she stopped, turning to stare at him. "What?" she asked, a strange emotion in her voice that Legolas could not quite place. "You do not?"
"No," he replied again, now slightly worried. What was it that she knew about their location that was causing her such distress. "Why? What is wrong?"
Fuiniel bit her lip and glanced about. "I do not know," she answered. "I have never been here before. I rather hoped perhaps you had." She looked at Legolas again, as if hoping that the prince would suddenly remember, but he shook his head. She sighed and fidgeted absently with the strap of an armguard, pulling to tighten the loose gauntlet. Legolas waited patiently, careful to keep his own hands limp and calm; he would be like his ada, and show no sign of anxiety. It was a vital diplomatic skill that the elfling worked hard to develop.
"I suppose that it does not matter," the girl said at last. "As long as we continue heading away from the yrch, our specific location is of little import. We will keep to this direction for a few nights, I think, before turning north. Hopefully we will find something that will throw off the trail before then, or they will tire of the chase. They may simply lose us in the trees…" Her voice trailed off and her brow furrowed in concentration over cloudy gray eyes. It seemed to Legolas that she had spoken more to herself than him, her thought somewhere absent. Fuiniel shook her dark head and turned her gaze back to the prince. "Can you continue without rest?" she asked in a tone that he could not put an emotion to. It was perfectly neutral, at least to his ears.
"Yes," he replied with a determined nod. He would not slow them down, and he certainly didn't need to stop and rest. There were yrch behind them, and he needed to act like a strong elven warrior now.
Fuiniel nodded sharply, trusting in his words. "Then come, we cannot linger here." She was off as if released from a bow, soft dark boots running lightly over the thick-leafed boughs tinged with the reds and browns of falls even at this level now. Legolas was right on her heels, a small golden shadow of the dark figure he followed through the trees. The elflings made no sound in the woods, dark cloaks fluttering silently like the physical embodiment of Greenwood's winds. Their passage was nothing more than the faint breeze ruffling the leaves and then departing, no sign left to mark their trail.
But the noses of the yrch are keen, and to them there is no scent more hated nor more desired than that of Elf-flesh. And their senses are strong in the darkness…
…………………
The elflings hung easily in the frail treetops as they watched the dark night by the faint glow of the moon and stars overhead. Their pointed ears strained hard to catch any sounds of yrch pursuit, but all was silent save the faint shift of leaves and quiet rustling of Greenwood's nocturnal life. The two young elves knew that they could not pause long, but they were weary—more from the strain and anxiety they were under than their exertions—and wished to rest a moment before continuing their flight.
A light whisper did not so much break the silence as it did flow through it. "Fuiniel," Legolas asked hesitantly, "why…" The elfling's voice trailed off. Legolas bit his lip and looked away from his companion. He fidgeted nervously with a few strands of long, pale hair, regretting his question, aborted though it had been.
There was an uncomfortable silence and Fuiniel's gray eyes sunk into shadow. After a time she spoke, her words a harsh whisper. "We were going to the Gray Havens, some to leave and some to bid farewell. The yrch—" Her almost emotionless voice thickened and caught and she had to pause a moment to breathe. "The yrch killed everyone," she said at last.
"Everyone?" asked Legolas tremulously, blue eyes wide and silvery in the moonlight.
"Everyone," Fuiniel replied sharply. "Even me," she added softly, no longer speaking to the prince. Her gaze drifted and her pale face tightened. She was no longer where she sat, high in Greenwood's boughs. There was rain and blood, mixed and pooling on the ground…
The girl started and whipped a long white knife from her scavenged quiver when she felt a gentle touch on her hand. Her eyes cleared and she looked past the gleaming blade to Legolas, sitting frozen only inches from the sharp edge of the weapon. Fuiniel gave a strangled cry and turned away sharply, hands trembling as they wrapped white-knuckled around the long hilt.
"Fuiniel?" Legolas tentatively edged closer to the other elfling and laid a hand on her tense shoulder. For a moment she leaned towards him and almost relaxed. Then the girl roughly shook her dark head and jerked away, her gray eyes once more sharp and shadowed, mirror-like reflecting the moon but not lit from within.
"We should continue," she said in a distant voice, turning away from Legolas's sad eyes as they beseeched for understanding and extended comfort. She moved down the branch and tugged her cloak more tightly about her shoulders. "The yrch are still out there. Come."
Legolas rose, wordless, and followed Fuiniel into the darkness. They moved silently through the night, two small shadows fleeing the growing blackness and shadow at their heels.
Reviewer Responses:
First of all, I want to thank everyone for sticking with the story through the last month with the lack of updates. I really appreciate that you did so—BIG thank you to everyone! Mwah! Love you guys!
Aranna – Thank you! It's a wonderful present! And I promise to put no spiking of people in the story, just for you. Great fireworks! Just remember, outside! Happy New Year to you, too. And I'll get the next part out sooner, promise I will! :D
East Coastie1500 – I hope you enjoyed Ohio! Hello East-Coastie-family! Sorry you have to wait another chapter to see the outcome of Thranduil's rampage; no elf-king in this one. Don't worry—he'll be back soon…
Laiquendi – Sorry, you have to wait just a bit longer to see Thranduil dance on the throats of the yrch. Sorry, sorry, really I am! Don't fear everyone, his highness hasn't been idle while we've been away! Fuiniel—lots of fun to create. Hope you enjoy what I do with her!
Katlyn – if you're here, you're insane. But you're in good company. Well…okay, so there may be people who would debate that assertation, but at least you're in fun company.
Once more, lots of thanks and hugs to everyone! Don't worry, I'll be back soon!
