A/N: Thank you to all my lovely reviewers! I'm glad you're enjoying the story. Your feedback keeps me motivated!


Chapter 18

Ashuruk needed to get away from Pushdug fast. He didn't know how much longer he could keep from going berserk and go on a killing spree. And problem was, Ashuruk was the only thing around.

He kept looking over his shoulder at Pushdug, whose eyes kept darting around and ears twitched at every sound. Once or twice Ashuruk looked behind him to see Pushdug swatting at a low flying bird with his scimitar. It was only a matter of time.

Ashuruk quickened his pace, now thinking he should have gone off with one of the other orc groups. They couldn't all have gotten killed, could they? They hadn't caught sight of any Elves in a while, which was good because that meant they were likely getting away. But, it also meant if no Elves were around then Pushdug would have no one else to go after.

His carefully thought out plan was falling apart.

"Un-burz, un-burz," Pushdug muttered, his wide eyes nearly spinning his head as he surveyed the sky.

"Yeah, I know it's getting light," Ashuruk said.

Pushdug hadn't been able to speak in complete sentences for a while now. Everything that came out of his mouth was a garble of common, different orc dialects, and a bit of troll that Ashuruk couldn't comprehend. He resorted to responding with his own observations, thinking that was what Pushdug was commenting on. Who knew though?

"It looks greener too," he said, sniffing the air. "Air's wet too, wonder if there's water nearby."

For a moment Ashuruk's heart stopped in his chest. There were numerous waterfalls and pools that surrounded Rivendell, and for a moment he feared they had somehow made their way back towards the Elven stronghold. Yet, as the thought about it, he faintly recalled some talk about a river that no one could cross during the siege.

Ashuruk couldn't recall where he was or what outfit he'd been assigned to, but did hear talk about whole companies of orcs washed away when they tried to cross the river or follow the banks into the valley. Their losses became so great that any attempt to use the river as a means into Rivendell was abandoned. The magic protecting it was so cleverly crafted and reinforced that not even the Dark One could breech it. That was just a rumor of course, but one that got certain grunts executed if it was heard talked about. Which meant it was likely true. Regardless, Ashuruk wondered if they were near that river. More importantly, was the magic that protected it still in place? He didn't want to have come this far to drown in its waters.

"I don't know if we should go this way," Ashuruk said, though he knew Pushdug likely could not comprehend what he was saying. "I think we need to turn around."

Ashuruk took a few steps before he turned, seeing Pushdug standing behind him, eerily still. His pupils were wide and fixed upon him, eyeing him like a beast observing his prey. Ashuruk gulped.

"Don't suppose there ain't nothing left of you in there, is there?" he said, slowly taking a few steps back.

Pushdug remained still, his breathing so shallow that Ashuruk didn't think he was breathing at all. For a moment Ashuruk was afraid to move, afraid to even breathe or blink. Beads of sweat appeared on his forehead as Pushdug continued to stare at him with a blank expression.

Slowly, carefully, Ashuruk slid one foot back then another. Pushdug didn't move, didn't even seem to notice his movement. He took one more, but one of the pots made a clanking noise and drew Pushdug out of his trance.

The smaller orc lunged and swung his scimitar as Ashuruk stumbled back and turned to flee. His weapon grazed the pack on Ashuruk's back, making Pushdug wail in disappointment. Ashuruk stumbled from the force of the blow but caught himself. He ran as fast as he could through the forest, legs pumping and heart racing, weaving in and out of the trees to hopefully slow Pushdug down.

Pushdug followed him through the forest, swinging his weapon, no longer caring if an Elf Lord heard him. In fact, he wanted and Elf Lord to hear him. Anything could come running for him and he wouldn't care. All he wanted was something to stick his knife in. He wanted to feel it sink though skin and all the way to the bone. He wanted to hear it squeal in agony.

As he chased Ashuruk through the forest all other thoughts were overtaken by the desire to kill. He could hear his own blood rushing in his ears and his heart pound in his chest. Adrenaline rushed through his veins and every sense honed in on Ashuruk.

He swung around tree trunks and smashed through the vinery that Ashuruk sought to put between them, wailing and swinging his scimitar in hopes of slicing him. He was scratched dozens of times by thorny branches and razor sharp leaves, but he never once felt the sharp pains when his skin was torn open.

Finally, Ashuruk stumbled from weariness, having run as fast as he could for nearly two miles over rugged terrain. Pushdug pounced and latched onto his back, stabbing at him with his weapon. Ashuruk screamed and tried to knock him off, whether by grabbing at him or knocking him against the trees.

Pushdug held fast and stabbed at him with his weapon, shrieking gleefully at Ashuruk's wails. He didn't know how many times he stabbed him before Ashuruk sank to his knees and fell face first into the ground. Pushdug continued to stab at him, laughing maniacally as he watched black blood spurt from his body.

He never thought he would have ever feel this good in his life.

"Dear Ilúvatar, what is that?" A melodic voice said, and Pushdug slowly looked up to find two Elves standing before him.

He had never seen an Elf up close before, well live ones that is. He'd seen a couple of dead ones before, but even then he never ventured close to them. Even when they were dead they had a sense about them that made Pushdug shudder. Though he was inclined to think it was because they were far more powerful than he imagined, he also thought their ethereal beauty and clean smell had something to do with his desire to steer clear of them. Strange though, he was no longer afraid of them. He only felt…the need to stab them.

"Ha! I told you they would come this way!" the other said, drawing a silver and gold inlaid sword from his waist. "We'll finish talking about Lord Elrond's nuptials momentarily."

Pushdug grinned, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth, and wondered if Elves were as much fun to kill as orcs. Pushdug laughed again and rose to his feet. He'd find out in just a few minutes.