*Thank you all for reviewing.
LOTR lover – Legolas never misses!
Shinigamio – I really appreciate your review because I don't feel that I write fighting action very well.
UV – Thank you for reading. I am glad that you appreciate the fun of cliffhangers!
jastaelf – Glad that you are enjoying it.
Lithia – Uh oh. Some things are worse than death.
Legolas' arrow flew straight and true, but when Egla Ash's cry had filled the air the Uruk-Hai had thrust the blue- eyed Orc aside and the Orc that had stood behind him took the arrow in the heart.
"No!" Legolas gasped, quickly fitting another arrow.
Dunadan's arrow flew beside it. Two more Orcs fell, but the Uruk-Hai had pushed Egla Ash into the gate, a firm grip on the other's hair.
"Get 'em!" He roared. The cry was soon taken up by many fell, harsh voices. Orcs streamed out of Dol Guldur toward the forest's edge.
"Legolas! We must flee!" Dunadan urged, grabbing the Elf's sleeve. "Now!"
Legolas loosed the last of his arrows, eyes hollow with disbelief. After all they had been through to have it end like this. The stared at the fortress. Egla Ash was gone, a captive of the Hill of Sorcery. Numbly he allowed the Ranger to pull him away. Together they fled into the trees.
They ran down the dark path, their feet pounding in their haste. Behind them they could hear the cries and calls of the Orcs pursuing them. Dunadan had never run so hard in all his life. He had been in danger often, but this kind of peril had never touched him before. If they were caught and taken before the Nazgul – He stopped the thought immediately. He would not allow himself to be taken before Sauron's servants. His identity had been protected for too long for that to happen. Legolas was on his heels, though the Ranger knew that the Elf could easily outdistance him if he chose. He knew that grief was tearing through his friend, but they could not give in to that grief yet. The dark twisted trees flashed past, Dunadan's breath came in tight pants, but fear gave him the incentive he needed. But how long could they continue thus? Orcs were nearly tireless. They would be able to run a lot further than he could. He knew that he might have to turn to fight. And what chance did they stand then? There were too many pursuers. Yet on they ran. Soon they turned off the path, jumping over fallen rotten trunks and slipping on moss- covered ground. The Orcs were slowly closing in on them.
"Legolas!" Dunadan gasped, feeling that he couldn't go on. "I cannot run much farther."
Legolas glanced at him and the same vision he had seen the night the Rangers and Egla Ash had rescued him filled his eyes now. The man who ran at his side seemed different. His face wise and noble, a white star blazing on his brow. This man was no mere Ranger. He knew that. He would not fail Dunadan as he had failed Egla Ash.
"I won't let them take you, Estel." He drew his knives. "Turn west, toward Lorien. It is closer than my father's kingdom. I will hold them as long as I can."
"I cannot let you do that."
"Please Estel. Destiny lies heavily upon you. Go. For the sake of us all. Go! Elenath sila erin le." [Stars shine on you.]
Suddenly the Elven prince slowed and with a small smile turned his steps back in the direction that he had come.
"Legolas!" Dunadan halted, breathing hard. Destiny did lie heavily upon him. He could not let himself be taken before Sauron, for that is what the Nazgul would do if they caught him. Aragorn son of Arathorn was indeed a prize. Some choices in life were almost too hard to bear. Legolas, son of Thranduil, had made such a choice earlier in choosing to follow a friend in need and it had gained them nothing but deeper pain at their failure to rescue the Orc. If he were to turn back now, what would it gain? What would be the price of his failure? Indecision tore at him. He stood, listening to the sound of the Orcs approaching. He heard them howl with victory as they came upon Mirkwood's prince. No. He could not leave Legolas to that fate. Not alone. He turned and ran back to join the Elf.
I am sorry, Arwen, he thought as he hurried grimly into the battle, his sword slashing violently at the closest Orcs. Sometimes difficult decisions had to be made and other would have to live with the results. I am sorry.
If anyone had been about they would have seen an old man hurrying through the forest toward the sound of fighting. He walked with a tall gnarled staff, his features masked behind a tall blue hat. A spill of grey beard tumbled over his chest. The feeling of anxiety that he had felt for days now intensified.
Don't let me be too late to save him, he thought. We cannot lose him now.
The scene that Gandalf stumbled upon was one that he would not forget soon. The two had fought well before they had been overwhelmed. At least ten Orcs lay dead, throats slashed, abdomens sliced open, limbs hewn off, their dark blood staining the ground. Aragorn hung limply in the arms of two Orcs, his face bloody from a blow to the head. The Elf was pinned against a tree by a large Orc who was slowly sliding his curved scimitar into the prince's body. Pain twisted his fair features, but he glared at his antagonist, spitting words at it in Sindarin.
Suddenly Gandalf slammed the end his staff into the ground. With a roar, the forest was filled with a blinding light. The Orcs howled and screamed, covering their eyes.
"Flee!" One of them yelled, fearing another assault from the unseen enemy. The Orcs turned and fled. The ones holding Aragorn dropped him abruptly and disappeared into the trees and the gloom. The large Orc growled, thrusting his sword hard into the Elf, then he too turned and ran, his eyes trying to see who had attacked them in such a way, wondering what he would tell his superiors at the dark tower when they returned empty handed.
Gandalf hurried to Aragorn. He was stirring slightly, forcing himself to consciousness. The Istari could see the wounds on his arms and body now. None was life threatening and for this he was grateful. He will live, he thought with a relieved smile, gently touching the unshaven cheek. He will live. He turned to Legolas. The Elf had dropped to his knees, his hand over the wound below his chest. Blood poured between his fingers.
"Hurry, Aragorn. We don't have much time. The Orcs may return in greater numbers. Come, Legolas needs your help."
Aragorn pushed himself to his feet, staggering slightly.
"Gandalf?"
"Yes, my friend. I am here. And just in time, too, it seems. Come, come. We must hurry."
The Ranger wiped blood from his eyes and followed the Wizard to where Legolas was kneeling by the tree.
"Help me get him up, Aragorn. Come, Prince Legolas. We must be going." He pulled the Elf gently to his feet, ignoring the gasp of pain that escaped the white lips. "Aragorn, do you have any athelas with you?"
"Yes." He dug into the pouch slung about his chest. He chewed several pieces of it then placed it in Legolas' wound. The Elf blanched and cried out slightly.
"Leave me, Estel." He whispered, leaning heavily on the two men. "I will only slow you down."
"Nay, Legolas. I won't leave you. Soon we will be free of this wood and I can do more for you." Aragorn smiled encouragingly. "Come. You needn't fear. Gandalf has come to help us."
Legolas turned blue eyes to the Wizard, staring at him in disbelief.
"Mithrandir?" he murmured.
The Istari smiled gently, his own blue eyes filled with compassion.
"Yes, it is I, Thranduil's son. All will be well."
Legolas looked away, his head drooping. All would not be well. Egla Ash was still imprisoned in Dol Guldur. His failure washed over him in a flood.
"I couldn't save him." He whispered, tears burning in his eyes. "I was too slow."
Gandalf glanced uneasily at Aragorn.
"I will tell you later." The Ranger said quietly.
Together the three of them traveled toward the edge of the forest.
Again I apologize for the brevity. More is coming.
LOTR lover – Legolas never misses!
Shinigamio – I really appreciate your review because I don't feel that I write fighting action very well.
UV – Thank you for reading. I am glad that you appreciate the fun of cliffhangers!
jastaelf – Glad that you are enjoying it.
Lithia – Uh oh. Some things are worse than death.
Legolas' arrow flew straight and true, but when Egla Ash's cry had filled the air the Uruk-Hai had thrust the blue- eyed Orc aside and the Orc that had stood behind him took the arrow in the heart.
"No!" Legolas gasped, quickly fitting another arrow.
Dunadan's arrow flew beside it. Two more Orcs fell, but the Uruk-Hai had pushed Egla Ash into the gate, a firm grip on the other's hair.
"Get 'em!" He roared. The cry was soon taken up by many fell, harsh voices. Orcs streamed out of Dol Guldur toward the forest's edge.
"Legolas! We must flee!" Dunadan urged, grabbing the Elf's sleeve. "Now!"
Legolas loosed the last of his arrows, eyes hollow with disbelief. After all they had been through to have it end like this. The stared at the fortress. Egla Ash was gone, a captive of the Hill of Sorcery. Numbly he allowed the Ranger to pull him away. Together they fled into the trees.
They ran down the dark path, their feet pounding in their haste. Behind them they could hear the cries and calls of the Orcs pursuing them. Dunadan had never run so hard in all his life. He had been in danger often, but this kind of peril had never touched him before. If they were caught and taken before the Nazgul – He stopped the thought immediately. He would not allow himself to be taken before Sauron's servants. His identity had been protected for too long for that to happen. Legolas was on his heels, though the Ranger knew that the Elf could easily outdistance him if he chose. He knew that grief was tearing through his friend, but they could not give in to that grief yet. The dark twisted trees flashed past, Dunadan's breath came in tight pants, but fear gave him the incentive he needed. But how long could they continue thus? Orcs were nearly tireless. They would be able to run a lot further than he could. He knew that he might have to turn to fight. And what chance did they stand then? There were too many pursuers. Yet on they ran. Soon they turned off the path, jumping over fallen rotten trunks and slipping on moss- covered ground. The Orcs were slowly closing in on them.
"Legolas!" Dunadan gasped, feeling that he couldn't go on. "I cannot run much farther."
Legolas glanced at him and the same vision he had seen the night the Rangers and Egla Ash had rescued him filled his eyes now. The man who ran at his side seemed different. His face wise and noble, a white star blazing on his brow. This man was no mere Ranger. He knew that. He would not fail Dunadan as he had failed Egla Ash.
"I won't let them take you, Estel." He drew his knives. "Turn west, toward Lorien. It is closer than my father's kingdom. I will hold them as long as I can."
"I cannot let you do that."
"Please Estel. Destiny lies heavily upon you. Go. For the sake of us all. Go! Elenath sila erin le." [Stars shine on you.]
Suddenly the Elven prince slowed and with a small smile turned his steps back in the direction that he had come.
"Legolas!" Dunadan halted, breathing hard. Destiny did lie heavily upon him. He could not let himself be taken before Sauron, for that is what the Nazgul would do if they caught him. Aragorn son of Arathorn was indeed a prize. Some choices in life were almost too hard to bear. Legolas, son of Thranduil, had made such a choice earlier in choosing to follow a friend in need and it had gained them nothing but deeper pain at their failure to rescue the Orc. If he were to turn back now, what would it gain? What would be the price of his failure? Indecision tore at him. He stood, listening to the sound of the Orcs approaching. He heard them howl with victory as they came upon Mirkwood's prince. No. He could not leave Legolas to that fate. Not alone. He turned and ran back to join the Elf.
I am sorry, Arwen, he thought as he hurried grimly into the battle, his sword slashing violently at the closest Orcs. Sometimes difficult decisions had to be made and other would have to live with the results. I am sorry.
If anyone had been about they would have seen an old man hurrying through the forest toward the sound of fighting. He walked with a tall gnarled staff, his features masked behind a tall blue hat. A spill of grey beard tumbled over his chest. The feeling of anxiety that he had felt for days now intensified.
Don't let me be too late to save him, he thought. We cannot lose him now.
The scene that Gandalf stumbled upon was one that he would not forget soon. The two had fought well before they had been overwhelmed. At least ten Orcs lay dead, throats slashed, abdomens sliced open, limbs hewn off, their dark blood staining the ground. Aragorn hung limply in the arms of two Orcs, his face bloody from a blow to the head. The Elf was pinned against a tree by a large Orc who was slowly sliding his curved scimitar into the prince's body. Pain twisted his fair features, but he glared at his antagonist, spitting words at it in Sindarin.
Suddenly Gandalf slammed the end his staff into the ground. With a roar, the forest was filled with a blinding light. The Orcs howled and screamed, covering their eyes.
"Flee!" One of them yelled, fearing another assault from the unseen enemy. The Orcs turned and fled. The ones holding Aragorn dropped him abruptly and disappeared into the trees and the gloom. The large Orc growled, thrusting his sword hard into the Elf, then he too turned and ran, his eyes trying to see who had attacked them in such a way, wondering what he would tell his superiors at the dark tower when they returned empty handed.
Gandalf hurried to Aragorn. He was stirring slightly, forcing himself to consciousness. The Istari could see the wounds on his arms and body now. None was life threatening and for this he was grateful. He will live, he thought with a relieved smile, gently touching the unshaven cheek. He will live. He turned to Legolas. The Elf had dropped to his knees, his hand over the wound below his chest. Blood poured between his fingers.
"Hurry, Aragorn. We don't have much time. The Orcs may return in greater numbers. Come, Legolas needs your help."
Aragorn pushed himself to his feet, staggering slightly.
"Gandalf?"
"Yes, my friend. I am here. And just in time, too, it seems. Come, come. We must hurry."
The Ranger wiped blood from his eyes and followed the Wizard to where Legolas was kneeling by the tree.
"Help me get him up, Aragorn. Come, Prince Legolas. We must be going." He pulled the Elf gently to his feet, ignoring the gasp of pain that escaped the white lips. "Aragorn, do you have any athelas with you?"
"Yes." He dug into the pouch slung about his chest. He chewed several pieces of it then placed it in Legolas' wound. The Elf blanched and cried out slightly.
"Leave me, Estel." He whispered, leaning heavily on the two men. "I will only slow you down."
"Nay, Legolas. I won't leave you. Soon we will be free of this wood and I can do more for you." Aragorn smiled encouragingly. "Come. You needn't fear. Gandalf has come to help us."
Legolas turned blue eyes to the Wizard, staring at him in disbelief.
"Mithrandir?" he murmured.
The Istari smiled gently, his own blue eyes filled with compassion.
"Yes, it is I, Thranduil's son. All will be well."
Legolas looked away, his head drooping. All would not be well. Egla Ash was still imprisoned in Dol Guldur. His failure washed over him in a flood.
"I couldn't save him." He whispered, tears burning in his eyes. "I was too slow."
Gandalf glanced uneasily at Aragorn.
"I will tell you later." The Ranger said quietly.
Together the three of them traveled toward the edge of the forest.
Again I apologize for the brevity. More is coming.