CHAPTER 30 - What lies ahead
The night veiled the group gliding through dark waters, come from the south eastern side of the isle of Tolfalas. There was a single boat bearing its tense and grim burden, and none knew what awaited them on the edge of land which posed their destination.
Legolas knelt beside Tadion, his quiver slung across his back, bow in hand. Tadion handed his brother a long, white knife, since his own had been lost when captured by the company of orc in Ithilien.
Ithilien. Legolas closed his eyes. The place where he unexpectedly crossed paths with a creature the elf never thought he would come to know, to befriend, to... care for? He grimaced. Aye, he did care, a fact undeniable despite the grudging hold of his denial, and still the elf knew not what to make of it. The mere thought of it was preposterous. And yet, there was no denying the clear and undisturbed connection they could share, having already happened not once, but twice. And apart from it all, the half-orc was become instrumental in his following endeavor owed to the knowledge she possessed.
Barad-dûr. Whenever his weary and guilt trodden mind summoned his friend, Aragorn was ever in the same place. Entrapped. In Barad-dûr. It was too precise, too detailed and it all felt too real to be a figment of his desperate guilt. And she knew the Tower. She had been there, lived here, suffered within its walls. Legolas was certain he would undoubtedly need her aid. He had to gain intelligence on the surroundings, inside mapping and positioning of the Tower firstly. What she remembered of its security and numbers. And then there was of course, the way one could even gain entrance into the Black Land.
As the elf pondered a strange type of fear weeded its way through his chest. One he had only come to know recently and had felt earlier all too deeply; the kind which wreaked havoc within at the prospect of her coming along on that quest. But Legolas hoped she would not wish to head back into Mordor, not when the half-orc went to such great strides to be free of it. But she might demand it. For those same blasted reasons the elf was failing to withstand, and if she did, if she did, and Eru knew she was stubborn enough to make a case of it, the elf would ensure Kal was dissuaded from joining him. How that was to be achieved, he yet had no notion. But there was always a way. A sharp sway of the boat against the less than mild sea waves that night returned Legolas to the task at hand, reminding him of the need to focus. He regarded his companions and began speaking in a clear, lowered voice.
"Since their numbers are great, we must employ stealth based attacks as you know. You also know discovery and capture is not an option. Neither is intervening if one of us were to fall, as that leads to risk against which we may not be equipped to defend ourselves. And I trust you all remember what that means."
Elves, men and dwarf nodded. In the event of falling prisoner to the enemy, there was always the risk of torture and reveal, irrespective of the indisputable honor and valor each of them possessed. By agreement, if given the chance a swift and merciful end was preferable.
"Tadion, Orophin, Herion and Faluin go with me, and we will attempt to fell as many as we can from above." He looked to Tadion, who nodded in understanding. "Gimli with Avorn, you and your men stay close to the shore to aid in the eventuality of a chase in retreat. Faluin," he turned to the golden-haired elf being addressed, "you follow close but stay behind us in case we need to alert Gimli and the others. The rest of us hunt."
"Just like an elf, to rob me of the very few pleasures left me on this dratted world!" Gimli grumbled, though Legolas knew that more than anything the complaint was meant to mellow their tightly wound spirits.
"We have the cover of darkness," the elf prince continued, "but they thrive in it. Remember, Uruk-hai are intelligent, do not underestimate their viciousness nor their cunning. We know not how they are spread across the land, or what they seek here, if anything at all." He turned to Orophin. "Tonight we use the battle signs of your people to communicate and signal our position to one another."
The boat hit the low stony bank with a dull sound which echoed through them all. The group climbed further, silent as wraiths towards the edge of land. Gimli and the humans positioned themselves along the path in various places out of sight, waiting, weapons ready. Legolas nodded to them a brisk salute before heading to join his brother and the other elves.
"Legolas," Gimli took him by the arm, "watch yourself in the face of peril. No heroics."
A brittle smile made its way onto the face of his friend. "We will see each other soon," the elf said with a confidence he did not wholly feel, and with that he and his kin were away.
As they climbed higher, shrouded by both the employ of their skill and nature itself, the elves listened for any sign revealing the foul presence of Mordor. They reached upper level ground and the sparse woods adorning the land, and it was then that they heard it. The guttural, gnarled scathing sounds of the black speech. The scent of decay and filth filled their senses. Both brothers felt the uneven, bursting rush of blood thrumming through their center, reaching to the very tips of their fingers as they readied for battle. They looked sharpened, more fey, more feral in their coiled stances.
Legolas turned his head and lifted his arm pointing to the left. The one called Orophin and the two other elves, both Galadhrim warriors as he, took towards that direction. They sprung into the trees swiftly and with flowing, inhuman grace.
He and Tadion took to the right, climbing and following each other through the boughs in a soundless flurry of movement.
They saw their first enemy trudging through the wood alone, cutting through underbrush with a heavy scimitar. Its mottled brown and grey mane reached down its back, deathly yellow eyes narrowing as it lifted its head, and began to sniff at the air. It hissed words the elves did not understand. Legolas looked to Tadion as they each stood hidden strategically within trees placed at opposing distance. With lightning movements Legolas drew an arrow and aimed.
A heavy body thundered to the ground. Legolas leapt deftly downward and retrieved his arrow, wiping it hastily against the grass before they set forward again.
Soon they found two other Uruk-hai, walking purposefully and looking about themselves. Legolas followed their movement from his crouching position atop a thick branch, his gaze catching that of Tadion from farther away. They straightened as one, retrieved an arrow, aimed and shot at their oblivious foe. Both well placed arrow shafts soon protruded from each fallen misshapen head, and the elves repeated the process of removing the shafts. If the bodies were to be found by their comrades, there would be fewer signs as to what, or who, felled them.
Legolas traversed speedily above ground, his lean frame turning as the wind, and from the corner of his eye saw Orophin and Herion follow suit from a distance. Things go well so far, thought he as they passed like shadows through the night. From afar he heard a bird-like whistle, and turned to see Orophin lifting three fingers. He replied with the same fare. Six felled. They would also have to dispose of the bodies when done, though that task would be the simplest of all.
As the elves inspected the blackness without for any movement, their keen eyesight and hearing caught the hissed, broken quality of a human voice. Female. Begging. Legolas frowned, gaining in speed under the wary gaze of Tadion who was ever on his trail.
As he neared the wailing and hoarse pleading sounds, Legolas nocked a sure arrow.
A young human woman, battered and worse for wear, was struggling on her elbows in an attempt to crawl away from four Uruk-hai. Her hands and legs were bound.
"I told ya, there's no gettin' away but for our sport ya will have to do," one Uruk was growling as it took the woman by the hair. "Now run, little birdie, and we'll be followin'. Ya get a good start too, we'll be right'ere for a while yet."
"Gorgath," one of the beasts suddenly growled, addressing another who may have been his better. "Somethin' is afoot. I smell it. Draw," and they all resorted to their scimitars.
Legolas tensed, his eyes narrowing. They were doing this for sport, but the filth did not reckon nor expect the silent watchers now arming themselves above them.
The silver-haired elf met the eyes of his brother, who nodded in response. He did not sense Orophin nor the other elf in their vicinity, probably having gone around their position to scout further. Four Uruk-hai they could contend with. Four they could risk attacking together, a feat they all agreed to never resort to for fear of discovery and entrapment. But what steeled their resolve was the memory of those fallen to this manner of debasing cruelty, and it spurred them both, and so their arrows flew simultaneously and from different directions, felling two Uruk.
Legolas swiftly hung his longbow and quiver safely aside and drew his long knife. He then descended from his position onto the ground and landed closely behind one of the still standing Uruk. The elf sliced through its back from shoulder to hip before the Uruk turned, doubling in pain, anger and surprise. Pivoting, the elf slashed through its neck, leaping back from the spurt of black blood. He barely managed to avoid the heavy scimitar of the one known as Gorgath.
"Well, well..." the beast roared, "looks like our eyes and ears round these parts were not a lyin'," the Uruk said triumphantly. "Spindly creatures roamin' about, acting as if this were their own land. Perhaps we find where the rest of ya are hidin' like scurvy rats!" the Uruk finished with a lunge, blocked effortlessly by Legolas.
The elf looked to the canopy, where he knew Tadion waited restlessly, wanting this to end. Legolas continued to silently circle the Uruk, while the other goaded him with gruesome and disgusting detail of his future enslavement. The elf pursued the offensive just as he heard more heavy stomping come from somewhere to his right.
"I caught one," the Uruk grinned as he forcefully repelled Legolas, who turned to see four more beasts and a number of black clad men make an appearance.
He swiftly looked to Tadion, raising his hand to stop the other hidden elf from intervening. This was too much for them to take on in a fight. If Tadion revealed his position, a chase would no doubt ensue. If there were more of them, their meager party would surely be outnumbered, killed, or worse. Myriads of thoughts went through his head, the safety of the isle chiefest among them.
He attacked with more fervor than before, contending at first with two enemies, then three as yet another joined the fight. He nearly lost his stance once, twice, but felt no weariness. Determination pulsed through his veins, emerging as sparse bursts of strength the elf seldom could muster anymore, and he fell one Uruk with a vicious swipe of his mithril blade.
He could dimly hear the others snickering. The woman they had tried to save was nowhere in sight, and as the elf whirled to deal another blow he felt a sharp sting to the side of his neck. He gritted his teeth, his hand reaching to inspect the source, only to find a sharp, thin object which he hastily tore out.
"Come to me, pretty little elf. You've shown me nothin' worthy for my troubles so far," Gorgath pounced at him with a force to rival a falling cliff and the elf barely managed to avoid the swing of his weapon, then another.
He was retreating, moving slower and blinking faster, and Legolas found his vision now swam and tilted no matter his attempts. The elf parried anew, now long on the defense, his legs tangling beneath him strangely. His hearing also appeared to be skewed for he never heard the man closing in, nor managed to avoid his strike.
Harrowing pain shot through his leg, and his body froze and convulsed as the elf fell to one knee. When he was unable to rise Legolas vaguely noted the blade had sliced through his leg, effectively severing a tendon. And as his eyes flitted to his surroundings, he saw more enemies were gathering.
Legolas quickly sought for Tadion, who had his bow drawn and ready, already aiming to shoot. He looked sternly into his brother's eyes, pleading, commanding and cursing him all at the same time. Finish this and go you fool. He knew the rules. As his second in command he must gather the others and retreat. At least this way, the beasts found what it was they thought they were looking for.
But Tadion would not move, his entire frame shaking with wild anger and strife and sorrow. He hesitated, pleading silently in turn, his bow yet ready to release the arrow which would end a life.
Legolas gave their signal for retreat and further reached through to his younger brother in thought, again pleading, ordering and begging. Go. Deal the finishing blow and go. Obey, damn you. I command you. I command... After one flicker of time the connection with Tadion was sharply cut, hastily torn, and he could feel the presence of his brother no longer. His posture broke and the elf fell forward, propping his palms against the cold forest bed from the sudden, unbearable dizziness taking hold.
"Put him in shackles," the Uruk was growling, sounding far and distorted. Iron claws dug into his shoulders.
It felt as though he would retch his insides away. Betrayal gnawed at him akin to salt in a freshly dealt wound for his unheeded plea, while he saw bleak black and grey shapes; distorted mouths grinning at him.
Come back alive. With this last thought the elf lost his sight and his form swayed, crashing onto the barren ground.
A/N:
*day X of quarantine* Hope you're all holding up well.
Thank you for your thoughts on this. I really appreciate it and they do help keep *whatever drives this in my head* going.
