Author's Note (PLEASE READ): Thank you for the wonderful reviews; keep 'em coming and let me know how you like this so far.
On a side note, I got a new fish today. Just thought I'd mention that for some reason (perhaps because he's looking at me as we speak). He's cute. I think I will name him Orlando.
Oh, and before I forget: if anyone reading this has purchased/played the LotR role-playing game (derivative of Warhammer, with all the models and such) let me know. I have kept a journal of comments during our games, and it's been tested to be outright hilarious. I am considering posting it, updated with every game, here on ff.net but if no one's played it then it's probably irrelevant, no matter how funny. Anyway, let me know.
-Spike
Chapter Three: Blood Upon the Leaves
The company of three traveled the rest of the day in relative silence, trying to forget the events of that morning. While reconciled, the argument could not be ignored.
Legolas had spent much of the day struggling to understand the odd feeling that had come over him; one of darkness and anger, but not his own. It was as though all the most horrid emotions a living thing could feel had materialised themselves into a vaporous being, and was now trying to invade its hosts. Looking round at his companions, the Elf noticed a definite strain on the features of them both. He heaved a helpless sigh and continued on his way, halting when the sun had sunk below the mountains to the East.
" We should make camp ere nightfall," he whispered back, not daring to raise his voice lest it arouse some horrid night-thing looking to do them ill. " We shall not be able to go further once darkness takes the wood."
Gimli, tired from his trek, was in immediate agreement, and flung down his gear where he stood, looking to Aragorn, who remained paused in thought beneath the darkened canopy of the trees.
" Are you sure we can't go on?" he asked. " The orcs travel tirelessly- the more often we stop the further we are separated from Merry and Pippin."
" Yet we cannot travel in this darkness," Legolas countered, shaking his head. " Alas, would it that we could, yet there is no moon out tonight to light our way."
It appeared the Elf was correct: from as much of the indigo sky that Aragorn could see, it was only the faint light of the stars that shone down upon the forest as the last of the sun's light swooned below the Earth. Agitated, he threw down his gear and paced the forest floor, muttering to himself. Legolas moved away from him, concerned but unable to think of any pacification he could offer.
"I...I am sorry, Aragorn," he faltered at last. " If there were any possible way..."
" I know," sighed the Ranger, but said no more. Legolas volunteered the first watch, expressing his wishes that Aragorn try to rest his troubled spirit. Aragorn eventually relented, and he and Gimli were asleep within the space of an hour.
~*~*~*~*~*~
During the night, Aragorn had many dreams.
He dreamed again of Mithrandir, and the horrible pit at Zhazad-dûm. In his dream he saw himself, instead of holding Frodo, race to the end of the bridge where Gandalf hung grimly. He saw his own hands reaching out and grabbing those of Mithrandir, and pulling as hard as he could, his feet sliding on the shale. He saw the glitter of something on Gandalf's blue eyes; a resignation to fate, perhaps. The look frightened him and he watched himself strain with all his might to pull the wizard to safety.
He saw his fingers slip suddenly from the old man's grasp, and saw for the second time Gandalf the Grey plummet into the darkness where the Balrog lay in wait.
He heard Galadriel, Lady of the Wood, looking sadly at the Fellowship minus one.
He has fallen into shadow...He was seized from that vision and placed at Boromir's side, comforting his dying friend, forced to see it all again, and Galadriel's voice faded into nothing, from the depths of which a voice could be heard laughing in a low voice, mocking and cruel.
Laughing at him.
In his dream Aragorn clutched his temples and cried out aloud, and round he and Boromir a great wind stirred up the leaves until they blocked all from his vision save for the face of his dying comrade. The gusts began to shake him to and fro, and soon the motion was so violent that he was jerked form his dreams and into the cold blankness of the forest night.
Legolas was shaking him awake, urgently, his voice soft but desperate in the still air. Beside him, Gimli was stirring.
" Wake up, wake up," Legolas hissed. " Orcs, orcs are near, and they know of our presence!"
"Orcs!" Aragorn whispered, leaping up and kicking Gimli fully awake. The dwarf grabbed his axe and was up in a flash beside them, just as the first orc arrows pierced the foliage that surrounded them.
Moments later the orcs themselves materialised out of the darkness, bearing torches that dripped sparks to the dry leaves of the forest floor.
Aragorn's sword whistled keenly above the yelling of Sauron's spawn, goring one orc and swiftly beheading another who stood too near. Gimli swung his axe and howled in victory as he cleaved two of them in one blow. Above the noise Legolas' bow sang an Elven song of vengeance, and his arrows flew straight and true.
Through the red mists of battle that clouded his vision, Aragorn saw the Elf standing not ten feet from him, surrounded by orcs. Soon Legolas gave up on his bow and unsheathed his white daggers, and they flashed keenly in the dirty light of the torches, shining like spirit-lamps. Not far from him battled Gimli, who had formed a circle of safety round himself as he swung his axe in all directions, sending orcs flying.
Aragorn gasped as an orc lance bit into the flesh of his calf, and he quickly brought the weapon down, driving into the top of the creature's head and into its brain. Quickly he yanked the weapon free and whirled upon the tide of orcs that had come anew in his direction, scenting his blood and hoping to gain advantage over the weakness there.
That was not to be the case: Legolas took up his bow again and cut as many down as he could, Gimli stepping in to cover his back, and Aragorn dispatching the few who broke through the Fellowship's defence.
Smoke began to rise in the clearing where leaves smouldered beneath dropped torches. Legolas began to lose sight of the battle around him, his eyes stinging and squinting though he tried to keep them open.
An orc that flanked him saw this weakness immediately, and took advantage, slipping its rapier between the Elf's ribs. Seconds later it was annihilated by a mighty swing of Gimli's axe, and the tide of battle turned in the Fellowship's favour.
Eventually the number of surviving orcs grew so little that the remaining creatures fled into the wood, terrified of the warrior's burning gazes. Aragorn quickly stamped out the smouldering leaves, waving the smoke away as best he could, and waited for Legolas' arrows to find their mark in the backs of the retreating orcs. After a moment he realised that no attempt on the creature's lives had been made.
" Legolas?..." he started, turning round. There he saw Legolas, lying heavily against a tree, Gimli at his side.
