The sound was so quiet that Aragorn first didn't even notice it consciously. Only when Arod suddenly broke forth from the bushes behind him and ran towards the caves that were Legolas' and Aragorn's next target, he realized, there had been a very quiet, high-pitched whistle in the air for a moment.
Cursing in his head, he picked up the whelp and tucked it into one of his empty bags so that the animal's head was sticking out of it. Not wasting any time with saddling up again, he steered Tercelborne through the close-set trees as quickly as possible. If Legolas suddenly wanted them to proceed entirely separately, he should have told him at least; then Aragorn wouldn't have waited here in the first place. Whatever it was that had happened, Aragorn didn't want to have to ride after Arod first to find out.
He saw his friend standing at the edge of a small ledge, in front of a cave, and tied Tercelborne to a tree that Arod was waiting by already, then hurried up the path to Legolas who was staring into the distance in concentration. "What is it? Valar, why didn't you say something?"
"I thought, maybe I could catch up with them. I could barely make out the last light of their torches. If I'd let you know first, it would have taken even longer."
For another few long seconds, Legolas looked to where the enemies had vanished, then he pointed at the entrance. "Apparently, they knew we were coming. It can't be chance they left only minutes before our arrival, and in quite a haste, too."
"Then we don't need to hide anymore either."
Aragorn ran back to the edge of the trees and quickly collected some wood that he used to spark a fire, near the base. Two thick logs, coated in resin, that they'd brought as a precaution, provided the necessary light.
They swiftly searched the halls reaching far into the mountain, not finding anything but left-behind supplies and traces of a large group though. Fast and unseen, the enemies had managed to disappear through one of the cave tunnels, leading to the back of a waterfall.
Almost … They'd almost got to them. In this case, almost wasn't enough.
It was Legolas then who found the small room that Arwen had been kept in and knelt down in its middle, his fingertips placed on the rough rock.
Following suit, Aragorn felt a shudder creep through him. It was almost as if the walls had absorbed the salt of tears and were now echoing it. The delicate smell of blood in the air just supported the effect.
Ignoring his companion's shocked expression, he started at the ground as if petrified.
These bloodstains, just like the ones he'd found in a room nearby, confirmed the worries that had been haunted them both all day already. "They will pay for this." Aragorn's growled words didn't sound like a mere threat. They were a statement. With his jaw firmly thrust forward, he straightened up, eyeing Legolas questioningly. "Anything else?"
Legolas briefly shook his head and led the way outside.
"We may have found them." In spite of Legolas' explanation earlier, Aragorn didn't agree with his approach; he kept on wondering if their search would maybe have been at the end already if he'd just been here a few moments earlier. Now he knew for certain that they had already lost far too much time and that Arwen was suffering.
"Why don't we discuss later why these people are always one step ahead of us? Or wonder when we have forgotten how to work as a team?" Legolas' irritated tone revealed that a few minutes of thinking hadn't been enough to forget what had been standing between them since the morning.
He cut off Aragorn's answer with a gesture of his hand so sharp that Aragorn felt reminded of their first common battle when any common base for them had seemed impossible. And just like back then, Legolas had a good reason to shut him up, as he heard something in the distance and needed complete silence to classify it. Only it didn't quite work this time. "A … falcon."
"At this time? Strange, indeed." When they stepped outside the cave, Aragorn searched the air immediately but making out the shape of a bird in the overcast night sky was impossible. "They don't hunt at night."
"Maybe I was wrong. It probably doesn't mean anything." Sure, they had witnessed it often enough in the war that the powers of evil liked to misuse simple-minded animals for their own ends and had often used birds, especially, as spies. But actually, these organized creatures, controlled by curses, couldn't be active months after Sauron's destruction anymore, no matter how sick nature was in this area.
"Let's go. At least we have a direction now."
But after just a few feet, Legolas stopped again, and this time, he reached for his bow immediately. The tiredness in his body turned to caution and lethal tension from one second to another. "Now we're in trouble."
That was when Aragorn heard the growling of wargs close by as well. With a practiced move, he unstrapped the simple bow that he was always carrying on his back when he was on the hunt. "It was to be expected that they would show up at some point. They're scenting the horses. I'd hoped we find Arwen before they get hungry again." Taking a new log from the fire, he followed Legolas back down to the path.
Even as he was running off, Legolas nocked an arrow. In his eyes, there was not only determination but especially a kind of frightening hate that in the war, he hadn't even often regarded Sauron's creatures with. In the light of his excellent fighting skills, sometimes it was easy to forget, but just like his father, Legolas was first and foremost a passionate wood-elf, to whom nothing was as important as nature and its beauty. Demonic creatures like wargs roused even deeper anger in him than a few misguided men who might learn and be won over someday.
Accordingly, there was no hesitation in him when Aragorn and he saw a whole pack of wargs surround their horses – baring their teeth and ready for the murderous jump.
Three of the animals died immediately, and Legolas was already aiming again. The next shot wasn't as lucky. Another warg did fall, pierced by an arrow before he had even noticed the attackers. Two more jumped aside in time though, so that only of them got lightly hurt and the second one not at all.
The one that been able to escape turned around on strong legs in a flash. His sly eyes fixated on his enemies, he took a long leap towards Aragorn – proof of his primitive intelligence. He knew that he was no match for arrows, unlike for a close combat weapon.
He was being greeted with a twisted grin though. Aragorn hurled his torch at the warg's paws with so much accuracy that sparks started to smolder on them and the animal jumped back with a howl. The retreat didn't do it any good. With Aragorn's hand now being free, he had already reached for the quiver on his back. The first arrow pierced the warg's side, another his throat so that it collapsed with a rattle.
Aragorn wanted to reach for another missile but in the meantime, three of the remaining wargs had surrounded him, their lips pulled back threateningly.
He targeted the animal right in front of him and slowly let his hand wander to the handle of his sword, in a way that the enemies wouldn't see. When the warg began his jump, Aragorn made it to throw himself to the side at the last moment. A painful jerk went through his body when he fell on his shoulder and rolled away. While getting up, he tore Andúril from its scabbard and grabbed the torch again.
His world suddenly seemed to be made up of nothing but swift movements, yellowish eyes, and teeth. Dodging backward, he rammed the torch in a spot where he suspected an animal eye to be, as hard as he could. The nauseating smell of burned flesh and fur filled the air.
The warg's scream threatened to render him deaf. Mad with pain, the animal snapped at everything within reach and reared up. One hit of its bulky head sent Aragorn to the ground. Its teeth got hold of his arm which now had Aragorn yell in turn.
A quick stroke of his blade cut the warg's throat. He pushed the animal off of him in disgust when a torrent of dark blood poured down on him. Precious seconds were being lost that he needed to wipe the stuff from his eyes before he got back to his feet. He braced himself to fend off the next attack, but it never came.
The other wargs edged him away from the torch instead, and from his bow that he had had to drop. Aragorn was surrounded once more, haunted by angry barking that sounded like delightful, gloating laughter.
Now he could only draw his dagger and try to react to as many attacks as possible at the same time.
Before Legolas could help his friend, the last two wargs leaped at him while the injured one drooled as he hobbled around the comparatively defenseless horses. By now, the animals knew that they were facing a dangerous weapon and approached him with jumps so unpredictable that a true aim wasn't possible, not given the speed of these cruel hunters.
Legolas saved himself with a long somersault upwards to the steep wall of rock, clinging to a protruding stone to buy some time. Before he could climb higher to find a spot to shoot, his way was shut.
The pack leader approached him from behind. He shouted something to the other two in the simple language of his kind, a snarling intelligible only to orcs. One thing, Legolas could easily hear in it though: the sadistic pleasure that the situation was giving the creature.
The others could have easily come after Legolas. Instead, they crouched at the bottom of the hill and made sure that he couldn't go back without being hit.
Legolas didn't have the advantage of claw-studded legs and couldn't use his arrows without slipping and landing right before the beasts' mouths. Besides, he had to keep an eye on all three of them, or one of them would strike immediately. Reluctantly putting away his bow as it was useless right now, he grabbed one of his daggers with his free hand and threw it at the leader so quickly that he couldn't entirely dodge but suffered a hit to his side.
A blood-curdling roar sounded far beyond the widths of the area, containing little pain and a lot of wild anger instead. The warg yanked the weapon from his flesh by the raw power of his teeth and sent it flying out of reach.
Every game being forgotten, he wanted to come at Legolas but flinched when he saw him reaching to his back again. For seconds the animal stared at him without making any sound, trembling with aggression. He knew exactly that Legolas would be out of weapons soon and allowed himself a moment of standstill.
His gaze turned to Aragorn and the wargs that had already fallen victim to his sword. With a brief bark, he stopped the animals that wanted to rush to his aid.
Legolas understood. A mirthless smile curled on his lips. Straightening up as far as he could, he presented his second blade to the warg, just in case he would get any other stupid ideas. "You are not welcome here, creatures of the shadow. Leave while you can. This is my only warning. You will be granted no mercy."
The next bark was definitely loud laughter. Again, the leader spoke to the wargs whereupon they retreated to the woods that they'd come from.
Then he dragged himself up the hill with an estimating look back over his shoulder. Casually dipping one paw in an almost jet back pond that had surely been a bright, fresh stream before the war, he splashed a mix of this smelly water and the pebbles and sand on its bottom on Legolas.
I will be back.
Seconds later, the rest of the pack had vanished into the night.
Cursing at the top of his voice, Aragorn tore a piece of fabric from his cloak, his beloved grey cloak from Lórien that carried many patched pieces of this kind already, and tied off his arm. Reaching for his water bottle, he tilted his head back and held it above his face.
Only when the worst traces of the warg blood were washed away, he looked for Legolas and did his best to bite back a grin. "I remember you looking more glorious after battles before."
Since the expected comment about his own appearance never came, Aragorn went to see to the horses in confusion while also treating his arm as best as he could.
Legolas didn't look like something was seriously wrong with him. And no matter how proud the elf often was, he wouldn't thoughtlessly keep the two of them from their quest like Aragorn had accused him of it so inconsiderately earlier.
A few minutes later though, he had to back, after all, to discreetly point it out to Legolas that they had to carry on. "Are you alright?" Since his friend was still not coming down from his elevated spot but wasn't busy anymore either, getting dirt off of his skin with water from his own supplies, Aragorn started to worry.
"All the filth of Mordor has been spread in Ithilien's water in the last few decades." Legolas was talking so quietly that Aragorn almost couldn't understand him. He was still crouching on the slope, though he could long have been standing on safe ground again, with his head lowered and his eyes closed.
Actually, they'd already had the discussion about this land's problems. Aragorn didn't want to have to admonish Legolas again. Or was this about something else entirely?
"Are you injured?" Frowning, he raised the torch and shone it at Legolas. Useless. Too dark to make out himself if the actually harmless attack had damaged anything, maybe chemically burned something …
"Legolas? I'm talking to you."
"It's nothing." Finally, Legolas opened his eyes again, slowly, blinking a few times as if he had to clear a blurred image.
And only now, a dark suspicion struck Aragorn, along with another all but pleasant memory of their first common battle, of how he had been convinced that he would lose the elf to his bad injures … or that he would at least never be able to see again.
"It just hurt for a moment. If the animals here are drinking this poison, it's not surprising that we've seen so few on our way here."
"Let me see."
Aragorn wanted to go to him, but Legolas jumped down to join him instead, simply ignoring the proposal.
"It's passed. We should follow the enemies' tracks before these go cold, too."
Legolas' dismissive voice had Aragorn hesitate. Something inside of him wanted to rear up, to warn him that there was something important, he was supposed to find out right now and was about to miss the clue.
"Aragorn. The tracks. If we're unlucky, the wargs might smudge it."
That this possibility existed indeed, did direct Aragorn's thoughts back towards the target of their search now as well. But the dissent that had already prevailed all day, just hurt even more now. "If you hadn't been sitting there for an eternity, we would already be on our way, master elf."
A guilty startle was the only reaction. If Legolas had an explanation for his behavior earlier, he apparently didn't feel like revealing it any more than the details of his condition.
Continuing their hunt, they proceeded in silence once more.
Regardless of how unpleasant this whole thing here was, Arwen had been filled with the vague confidence that it would be over soon for a few minutes now. There had to be a reason for the Stewardaides fleeing to a new hideout with her. Someone was closing in on them. She would be freed soon.
At least that was what she was holding on to since she had been rudely shoved into a corner of these new accommodations, down on a few old bags smelling wretched of spoilt food. She hadn't been lying there for long, breathing as shallow and calmly as possible through the ongoing pain in her side and trying to catch as much of what the men were discussing in excitement as possible before she was being pulled up again.
This time, she only had to be led a few steps forward before she was facing the man from earlier again.
"You should consider yourself lucky, Lady Arwen. Apparently, you're even more important to the King than we thought. That fool has actually left the city for you. He's in the woods with another member of your unspeakable folk." The Stewardaides leader walked around her slyly, probably hoping for a reaction that her motionless expression still didn't grant him.
The man couldn't know the wave of emotion his words had stirred in Arwen. She had been right then. Soon …
"I hope you're aware that this also means, we don't have much time left to plan our further steps." Mock-regret sounded through the man's voice as he came to stand right in front of her, the tip of his dagger resting in the hollow between her collarbones once more. "If you keep that stubbornness up, it will be the end of you. We can't drag useless burdens around. If you're being good, we could just leave you here, and he'd surely find you. It could be so easy."
"You're wasting your breath." Arwen didn't feel like provoking these people much further. She was simply too exhausted for that by now, and her cough was gradually growing worse. Also, a fever had started to make her limbs heavy. She had to focus on hanging on more than ever now.
Her kidnapper didn't give up yet though, noticeably angrier with every minute of not getting what he wanted. Asking the same questions over and over he started to lose his temper and scream at Arwen with increasing frequency. Every now and then, he grabbed her hair so tightly that one or two wisps being torn out left bloody traces in her scalp, or cut another wound – painful but never too deep – on her arms or her belly.
Arwen's grim efforts to keep standing straight and to not make even the smallest sound of pain, quickly had her lose her sense of time. It could have been minutes that the man spent asking her about the King's chambers, his daily habits, and possibilities to head him off when he was alone; it might have been an hour just as well.
At some point, the man was hoarse from yelling. As he brutally pushed against Arwen's chest, she fell once more and landed unluckily on her immobilized arms so that her elbow was twisted too far.
"I really tried but you leave me no choice."
The coldness of the dagger grazed her throat once more while she was still trying to catch her breath. Her blood froze in her veins immediately. Not now of all times … She only had stall these people a little more, until Aragorn and Legolas would find her …
"True. One thing you cannot be blamed for is a lack of endurance. Too bad you're wasting your talent like that."
"Flattery, really? I expected more of you." With the dagger's tip, the Stewardaid traced the wounds he'd already inflicted on her, grinning audibly.
"I'm sure you heard the howling outside, didn't you? These are not simple wolves like the ones that your valley's incapable warriors hunt for sports. Wargs are much greedier and crueler. And this pack that lost most of its members in the war, is even more aggressive than others." Without a warning, he left another deep cut sideways across Arwen's shoulder which had her hiss for air.
"They can scent blood for miles. Right now they're surely busy with your friends, but wargs are clever. They won't just let themselves be slaughtered. A few of them will flee and keep on hunting. If you don't start talking right now, I'll leave you in the woods tied up like this, with a few more of these pretty wounds. It won't take long until these monsters will show up to still their hunger. When they're done, your beloved King can bury what they leave behind."
In spite of the new hot throb in her arm, Arwen tugged on her bonds and tried to make her words sound as convincingly as possible. The guy couldn't know that he was playing into her hands, and she certainly wouldn't make him notice. Let him plunge her down the next available hill. Outdoors and without armed enemies all around her, Arwen wouldn't need more than five minutes to free herself. Squirrel teeth would untie her bonds, big cats would shield her body from possible attackers until she was back on her feet. If she acted the part of the helpless damsel for a few humiliating minutes, she would hopefully get out of this thing without any further major damage.
"Don't you get it? I've been at the court for far too short a time. Even if I wanted to tell you anything, I couldn't."
Her torturer got up with a snort. "Then you just proved for good how useless you are. The King left the city. That's more than we'd hoped for already. Enjoy the last time you have before we get rid of you."
The guy apparently took his whole group with him when he retired to an adjacent room, one so far away from here no less, that Arwen couldn't eavesdrop on them anymore now.
Carefully sitting up, using her healthy side, she let herself sink back against the next wall, breathing heavily, with her knees drawn close to her body. In her head, she tried her best to brace herself when quiet steps revealed that one man was returning.
It was the one who had refused to torture her as well, easy to make out from the way, he was slightly dragging his left leg behind him.
Arwen already started on a snide remark when a hand was carefully put over her mouth.
"Don't, or they'll hear you. And then it's too late for both of us!" Clear tension resonated in the young man's whisper. He sounded haunted, scared.
So the guy wasn't even allowed to be with her. She could hear that his hands were trembling when he opened a bottle. He held it to her lips, giving her something to drink for the first time since her kidnapping had begun.
Since his behavior gave her no reason to suspect, he wanted to pour something harmful down her throat, she didn't resist; besides, she urgently needed the refreshment for whatever it was that would come next. Fortunately, the water did indeed seem to be completely alright.
Only when the young man was certain that she had had enough, he closed the seal again.
"I'm very sorry for how they are treating you. You must believe me. They never mentioned anything like that. They only said they wanted to interrogate you. Please don't make this even worse. Your elvish friend, Lord Legolas … He's fought so bravely by our side at the Black Gate. He saved so many soldiers with his arrows … I saw it with my own two eyes how much he cares for his allies. He surely wouldn't want anything happening to you, just because you are resisting so much."
"No, he certainly wouldn't want his best friend tied up, tortured, and killed," Arwen snapped at the man. "He wouldn't want me to become a traitor against our King and my beloved either, though. You better do not speak his name in my presence again." Arwen was very tempted to kick the coward firmly, but she had to save her strength.
"Of course not! That's not what I meant …" Her helper tried to calm her down with quickly stuttered words so they wouldn't be overheard by anyone after all. "I appreciate elves very much, I do …"
"And is that supposed to excuse your deeds? To make me feel better?"
"No, of course not." The man had trouble expressing what he was trying to tell her. "I didn't know it would be like that. The Stewardaides only ever spoke about how everything would be better soon. And of justified revenge. Many of us lost family and friends after the Battle at the Black Gate. And many believe that the King could have saved them if he hadn't left with y… But they never announced that they would be doing something like that to you. I always told them, I wouldn't be part of this if they harmed Firstborn. I owe your people far too much for that …"
Arwen could downright feel the man's eyes wander over her injuries; she couldn't stop shaking her head.
"And the life of a simple woman would have been worth any less, is that what you want to tell me? Apart from that: Did you seriously think they'd just let their victim go if they didn't comply, no matter who they took? Und even though it shouldn't even be necessary in the first place that someone told you that: The King and I only left Gondor once there was no one left in the camp of Cair Andros that His Majesty's hands could have saved. Even the night when he was fighting for my life, he always had the healers give him updates, so he could be sure that he didn't have to go help someone else. Maybe you should tell the others that for a change at your next campfire."
"As if they would believe me. I just wanted to tell you that I'm sorry. I didn't mean for any of this to happen."
"That won't stop your friends from trying to get rid of me." Arwen turned her head away to signal the man that she wanted him to leave. She wouldn't ease his guilty conscience.
Maybe he would actually remember this conversation once she would hopefully be back in Minas Tirith, and do some serious contemplation. Then this whole thing would at least have been good for something.