JastaElf – Yeah, Elu is in the thick of things alright. And Irena sure
lobbed the ball back to your court really fast, didn't she!! Part of the
scene written for alliwantforchristmasisanelf's scene was written for you
as well. You guys think alike!! Remind me to call you guys next time I
want someone bashed on the head with a shovel!
AJ Matthews – Yeah, Elrond was quite high on the Vandal Root tea. Elu did too good a job with it. And I don't want you roused either, I guess!!
Rings of the cosmos – Elu-kun did indeed make a new friend. Our Orc does have some social skills after all. And Bilbo-san is quite a guy, isn't he.
Horus – Hugs to you Horus! Glad you liked that one!! How are you coming with Ardeth's adventure??
Ayod Botla – Your dance sounds very enthusiastic!! Happy that you liked Bilbo!! Thanks for alerting me to the fic by Silvarn Vilya. You were right. I like!!
alliwantisanelfforchristmas – Thanks for joining Salak's dance class! Some of this was written for you and your household! You'll know which part!! Also when you hear Elu's song it is all thanks to you. I was being lazy and not going to write another song, but since your review I have actually begun writing some of it down. Thanks (I guess) *scowls slightly!!
Jan – I am very pleased to know that there are other Bilbo fans out there. Since I read The Hobbit before the Lord of the Rings, he was my first Tolkien hero! You can bring a shovel with alliwantforchristmas and JastaElf. You'll see why!!
Salak – Your class is larger all the time. Thank you so much!!
Shinigamio – Glad you enjoyed my little joke! I'm not good with humor, so I really appreciate that. And you are welcome to come to tea anytime! (haha)
Furius – Yeah. There are a lot of interesting colors going on here!
Irena – Glad to hear from another Bilbo fan!! Thank you for saying that it seems realistic. Sometimes I think I am in Lala land or something.
Thank you to all of my silent readers! I hope you continue to enjoy Elu's adventures!!
Elenath sila erin le!!
Elrond was aware of the Orc as soon as he entered the room. The Lord of Rivendell was seated on the edge of the bed, his dark blue eyes troubled. His left hand rested lightly on the young Hobbit's.
I cannot believe that I am doing this, he thought, his lips pulling into a deep frown. An Orc at a Healing. Am I mad? Or was it that tea of his? Is it still affecting my thinking? He scowled fiercely.
They had stripped off Frodo's vest and shirt, revealing the whitish wound in his shoulder.
Morgul blade, the Elf Lord thought bitterly, trying not to let his concern show on his face. When Estel had shown him the hilt of the weapon he had felt a deep foreboding. Now he would have to counteract its evilness.
Bilbo and one of the other young Hobbits that had accompanied the Ringbearer were opposite him. Bilbo was seated at Frodo's side, Sam standing behind him, both sets of eyes filled with worry, Sam's hands were knotted tightly on his cloak.
"You can help him, can't you, Elrond?" The old Hobbit implored, tears dotting his cheeks.
"Of course I can, Bilbo. Are you doubting my abilities, old friend?" He joked, forcing his face to smile, though anxiety was tearing through him as well.
Foul, vile weapon, he thought furiously.
The Hobbit lying on the bed was pale, nearly as pale as the warm coverlet that covered his small body, his closed eyes looked bruised. Coldness was seeping through the wounded body and Elrond feared that he was beginning to look transparent.
Gandalf hovered at the foot of the bed, his face a mask of pain. The Wizard truly loved these little Halflings.
Elbereth help me to save him.
Healings done on wounds made by Nazgul weapons were tricky at best. He had athelas steaming in the braziers, the healing aroma filling the room.
"You are very strong, young Frodo Baggins." He murmured, stroking the pale hand. "Do not surrender to them now."
Elu stood in the doorway uneasily, thinking that no one was aware of him. But Lord Elrond looked up and motioned for him.
"You have had some experience with the dark weapons of the Enemy, haven't you?"
Elu opened his mouth to answer, but then merely nodded as he looked at Bilbo's grief filled face.
"I – I lived in Dol Guldur for some time, my Lord." He admitted, forcing his hands to stay at his side when they wanted to knot themselves on his cloak. "I will do all I can to help your nephew, Bilbo." He said quietly moving to stand by Elrond. "What should I do?"
"Come, Merry and Pippin. You must eat something." Aragorn coaxed, kneeling in front of the cousins who were huddled together in a corner of the courtyard.
Merry sat with his arm around Pippin's shoulders, his face still set in stubborn lines.
"Not until we know if Frodo is alright." He said, his bottom lip sticking out.
Pippin raised his eyes to the Ranger and Aragorn felt his heart go out to the young Hobbits. So much had happened to them since they had left their homes in the Shire. They were remarkable creatures: fun loving and lighthearted, brave and loyal.
"Lord Elrond is doing everything he can to help Frodo. He is a great Healer and will do everything in his power to save him. Do not fear." He gently touched Pippin's pale cheer, smiling kindly. Then he patted Merry's hand. "I don't think Frodo wants to find the two of you wasting away from hunger when he is recovered."
Merry scowled slightly and glanced at Pippin.
"Well, no. I don't suppose he would. But you're certain this Elrond know what he is doing."
Aragorn smiled again.
"You have my word on it."
"I will send someone with food, Dunadan." Glorfindel said quietly. "I was going to check on Asfaloth. It is on my way."
"Thank you." Aragorn stood, wincing slightly, and turned to see Legolas staring at the room where Elu had gone.
"All will be well. I think you should tell Merry and Pippin about your friend. It is an interesting tale and will go well with their repast."
Legolas nodded, hoping that he wouldn't have to tell Estel about what had befallen with Smeagol. Not just yet. He moved to sit on the ground with the Halflings, introducing himself and asked if they wanted to hear an unusual tale.
Glorfindel left orders for food to be taken to their guests and continued on toward the stables. While he was walking down the pathway he saw someone hurrying toward him.
"Glorfindel!"
He halted and let her come to him. He bowed slightly.
"My Lady Arwen."
"Did you find them?" Elrond's daughter asked him, catching both his hands in her own. Her blue eyes were wide with anxiety and tension.
He smiled kindly at her, squeezing her hands slightly.
"Yes. He is safe, Arwen. Didn't I tell you that all would be well?"
Relief swept through her and she embraced the tall Elf Lord, tears of joy spilling from her eyes.
"You did tell me that. Oh, Glorfindel! I am so glad that you found him!"
He smiled wryly, still holding her hands in his own.
"Are you indeed, little Elf maiden? I seem to recall someone insisting that she go to search for them instead of me."
Arwen laughed, her eyes shining.
"Yes. I seem to remember something like that. You should be grateful, you know. If it had been one of my brothers instead of myself, they would have knocked you over the head with a shovel, covered you with manure and then stolen Asfaloth and ridden out of here to find them on their own."
Glorfindel laughed, releasing her hands.
"I wouldn't put it past them. Or you either for that matter. And then I would have to come after you with a shovel and throw you in a ditch."
Arwen smiled up at him, embracing him once more.
"Thank you, Glorfindel." She moved past him. "Oh. Where is he?"
Glorfindel laughed.
"You had better slow down, my Lady. He is in the courtyard outside of your father's room."
"Father's room? Is something wrong?"
"One of the Periannath was injured."
"Oh, dear. Is there anything that I can do?"
"Your father is with him even now."
"Then I will hurry. Thank you again, Lord Glorfindel." Her eyes sparkled with amusement once more and she turned rushing down the path.
"Turn. Look there. Turn, Boromir. You're almost there."
"Captain Faramir?" The man bent by his leader and gently grasped his arm. "Faramir?"
The younger man started slightly as if shaken from sleep.
"Damrod? What is it?"
The man before him was dressed in green and brown as he was himself. They had stripped off their masks as they were in hiding in their refuge behind the waterfall.
"You were calling out. Is something wrong?"
Faramir blinked and rubbed his eyes.
"No, Damrod. All is well. 'Twas just a dream."
The man nodded, frowning slightly. They all knew about Faramir's dreams. He stood.
"Is he – alright, Faramir?"
"Who?"
"The Captain-General. Your brother. 'Tis his name you called."
Faramir glance up, seeing concern in the other's eyes.
"Yes. He is – He is nearing his destination I believe."
"That is good. He has been gone a long time."
Faramir nodded, his eyes distant.
"Over one hundred days." He shook his head. Why had it taken Boromir so long? :I will have to ask him when he returns. There are many things I want to ask him…too many.:
He had been troubled with dreams concerning Boromir for some time now. As with all dreams they seldom made any sense. Some times it was mere flashes of images, here one moment now gone.
Faramir shook his head. Many questions and few answers there were in dreams. Too many questions.
Boromir sat huddled beside his small fire staring at the cheerful little flames. He was weary beyond belief and discouraged. He had lost count of the days he had been traveling. And he was beginning to wonder, nay, he had been wondering for quite a time now, if Imladris ever truly had existed. He had followed the western side of the Misty Mountains, finding seldom used paths and overgrown roadways. But he had veered eastward at one point not many days ago and found himself on another mountain pass. He knew the stories of these passes, full of peril and danger. Goblins were said to inhabit these lonely stretches, venturing forth to waylay unwary travelers. But it hadn't been a Goblin that he had found. No, it had been an Orc.
It had been only a lone Orc, but it had nearly killed him. This had shaken him badly. He was a warrior, veteran of more combats than he could recall. Why had this one Orc nearly managed to kill him?
He had been riding on the pass that had turned west to his vast relief. He could see the rock walls receding ahead and urged his horse forward, ready to find a good spot to camp for the night. He had heard nothing, but perhaps, he admitted now, he hadn't been as alert as he should have been, when he exited the tunnel. To his delight he entered a wide expanse with a short growth of grass. He laughed slightly and kicked Hurin and they trotted into the opening. Like the man he was named for Hurin was not a tall horse, but strong and sturdily built, excellent for this sort of trip. But before he could dismount the Orc had come running from the west, growling to itself and spitting foul words that the man of Gondor was glad that he couldn't understand. He stared in amazement at it then turned Hurin about. But the Orc had sighted them. It narrowed its eyes and pulled an arrow from the quiver on its back and raised its bow. Boromir stared wide-eyed at the weapon. That was not an Orc bow! He spurred his horse back the way they had come. He felt the arrow whiz by his head, barely missing him. Hurin jumped ahead, knowing the precariousness of their situation. Boromir could hear the Orc yelling curses at him. They had to get out of this pass before the Orc caught up with them. Orc feet were better for negotiating the treacherous mountain pass than Hurin's hooves. Just when he was about to despair he saw a small declivity ahead. He hurriedly dismounted and led Hurin down the slope. It turned sharply and Boromir saw a deeper darkness in the rock face. If he had known what the hole in the wall had been used for he would have continued on. But since he didn't know that it was one of the many Goblins' backdoors he eased Hurin in and stood before the horse, his sword drawn. Being trained for battle, Hurin stood quietly behind his master, though his eyes rolled with fear. He heard the Orc coming, still muttering and growling in its harsh language.
Please let it pass by, he prayed desperately to any deity that might deign to listen.
The sound of his breathing seemed much too loud and harsh in his own ears as he waited for the Orc to pass by or attack him. But the sounds of vile speech receded and he let out a sigh of relief. He patted Hurin reassuringly and scratched the horse's ears, but as he started to lead the horse out the Orc yelled and jumped at him from the right side of the cave entrance. Gondor's Captain-General fell backwards in surprise, raising his sword to ward off the blow of the slim knife that the Orc wielded. He pushed the Orc back, not wanting to fight in the confined underground tunnel that he stood in. His sword clashed with the silver knife and the Orc growled low in his throat. The Orc lunged at him again, the sword's blade sliding along the knife bringing them face-to-face.
Boromir gasped staring into the Orc's eyes. They were blue! How could an Orc's eyes be blue? He found his thoughts racing and he shoved the thing back again.
Then on the clear still mountain air a voice was heard. Someone was singing. It sounded very far away, but the words drifted to them. Boromir didn't understand the words, but he knew that it was Elvish of some sort.
:I am dreaming.: He thought blearily. :I must be dreaming. Or else I am dead and do not realize it yet.:
Everything was too unreal.
And to his astonishment they became even more unreal.
The Orc raised its head and gazed at the stars. A look of pure pain filled its ugly face. The words of the song seemed to have captured the vile creature and it stood without moving.
"Ai! Ai!" It moaned at last, thrusting its sword into the night sky, as if breaking some spell placed upon it by the fair words. "Im alath car sen. Im alath car sen!" [I will not do this. I will not do this!] His gaze lowered to stare at the man. "You are lucky that Legolas Elvellon is near." He said in Westron, the blue eyes once filled with such hatred and anger, now seemed infinitely sad and lost. "He has saved you."
With that the Orc turned and ran back the way they had come.
Boromir swayed slightly. What was that? What had just befallen?
Hurin came out of the cave entrance and nuzzled his back. The man started and turned to the horse.
"I am dreaming, aren't I , Hurin? Yes." He sheathed his sword. "I am dreaming." He led the animal back up to the trail. He glanced uneasily in both directions but neither saw nor heard no sign of the Orc. Or anything else. He shook his head. "Yes. I am dreaming. Sleep walking. Yes. That is it. I am dreaming." He mounted the horse turning it westward.
From around an outcropping of rock the Orc watched the man ride away muttering to himself of dreams. When the rider and horse had disappeared from sight the Orc fell to its knees and wept bitter tears.
Authors Note: Sorry that I was soooo slow with this one. My little orcling muse was being very recalcitrant. Please forgive us.
AJ Matthews – Yeah, Elrond was quite high on the Vandal Root tea. Elu did too good a job with it. And I don't want you roused either, I guess!!
Rings of the cosmos – Elu-kun did indeed make a new friend. Our Orc does have some social skills after all. And Bilbo-san is quite a guy, isn't he.
Horus – Hugs to you Horus! Glad you liked that one!! How are you coming with Ardeth's adventure??
Ayod Botla – Your dance sounds very enthusiastic!! Happy that you liked Bilbo!! Thanks for alerting me to the fic by Silvarn Vilya. You were right. I like!!
alliwantisanelfforchristmas – Thanks for joining Salak's dance class! Some of this was written for you and your household! You'll know which part!! Also when you hear Elu's song it is all thanks to you. I was being lazy and not going to write another song, but since your review I have actually begun writing some of it down. Thanks (I guess) *scowls slightly!!
Jan – I am very pleased to know that there are other Bilbo fans out there. Since I read The Hobbit before the Lord of the Rings, he was my first Tolkien hero! You can bring a shovel with alliwantforchristmas and JastaElf. You'll see why!!
Salak – Your class is larger all the time. Thank you so much!!
Shinigamio – Glad you enjoyed my little joke! I'm not good with humor, so I really appreciate that. And you are welcome to come to tea anytime! (haha)
Furius – Yeah. There are a lot of interesting colors going on here!
Irena – Glad to hear from another Bilbo fan!! Thank you for saying that it seems realistic. Sometimes I think I am in Lala land or something.
Thank you to all of my silent readers! I hope you continue to enjoy Elu's adventures!!
Elenath sila erin le!!
Elrond was aware of the Orc as soon as he entered the room. The Lord of Rivendell was seated on the edge of the bed, his dark blue eyes troubled. His left hand rested lightly on the young Hobbit's.
I cannot believe that I am doing this, he thought, his lips pulling into a deep frown. An Orc at a Healing. Am I mad? Or was it that tea of his? Is it still affecting my thinking? He scowled fiercely.
They had stripped off Frodo's vest and shirt, revealing the whitish wound in his shoulder.
Morgul blade, the Elf Lord thought bitterly, trying not to let his concern show on his face. When Estel had shown him the hilt of the weapon he had felt a deep foreboding. Now he would have to counteract its evilness.
Bilbo and one of the other young Hobbits that had accompanied the Ringbearer were opposite him. Bilbo was seated at Frodo's side, Sam standing behind him, both sets of eyes filled with worry, Sam's hands were knotted tightly on his cloak.
"You can help him, can't you, Elrond?" The old Hobbit implored, tears dotting his cheeks.
"Of course I can, Bilbo. Are you doubting my abilities, old friend?" He joked, forcing his face to smile, though anxiety was tearing through him as well.
Foul, vile weapon, he thought furiously.
The Hobbit lying on the bed was pale, nearly as pale as the warm coverlet that covered his small body, his closed eyes looked bruised. Coldness was seeping through the wounded body and Elrond feared that he was beginning to look transparent.
Gandalf hovered at the foot of the bed, his face a mask of pain. The Wizard truly loved these little Halflings.
Elbereth help me to save him.
Healings done on wounds made by Nazgul weapons were tricky at best. He had athelas steaming in the braziers, the healing aroma filling the room.
"You are very strong, young Frodo Baggins." He murmured, stroking the pale hand. "Do not surrender to them now."
Elu stood in the doorway uneasily, thinking that no one was aware of him. But Lord Elrond looked up and motioned for him.
"You have had some experience with the dark weapons of the Enemy, haven't you?"
Elu opened his mouth to answer, but then merely nodded as he looked at Bilbo's grief filled face.
"I – I lived in Dol Guldur for some time, my Lord." He admitted, forcing his hands to stay at his side when they wanted to knot themselves on his cloak. "I will do all I can to help your nephew, Bilbo." He said quietly moving to stand by Elrond. "What should I do?"
"Come, Merry and Pippin. You must eat something." Aragorn coaxed, kneeling in front of the cousins who were huddled together in a corner of the courtyard.
Merry sat with his arm around Pippin's shoulders, his face still set in stubborn lines.
"Not until we know if Frodo is alright." He said, his bottom lip sticking out.
Pippin raised his eyes to the Ranger and Aragorn felt his heart go out to the young Hobbits. So much had happened to them since they had left their homes in the Shire. They were remarkable creatures: fun loving and lighthearted, brave and loyal.
"Lord Elrond is doing everything he can to help Frodo. He is a great Healer and will do everything in his power to save him. Do not fear." He gently touched Pippin's pale cheer, smiling kindly. Then he patted Merry's hand. "I don't think Frodo wants to find the two of you wasting away from hunger when he is recovered."
Merry scowled slightly and glanced at Pippin.
"Well, no. I don't suppose he would. But you're certain this Elrond know what he is doing."
Aragorn smiled again.
"You have my word on it."
"I will send someone with food, Dunadan." Glorfindel said quietly. "I was going to check on Asfaloth. It is on my way."
"Thank you." Aragorn stood, wincing slightly, and turned to see Legolas staring at the room where Elu had gone.
"All will be well. I think you should tell Merry and Pippin about your friend. It is an interesting tale and will go well with their repast."
Legolas nodded, hoping that he wouldn't have to tell Estel about what had befallen with Smeagol. Not just yet. He moved to sit on the ground with the Halflings, introducing himself and asked if they wanted to hear an unusual tale.
Glorfindel left orders for food to be taken to their guests and continued on toward the stables. While he was walking down the pathway he saw someone hurrying toward him.
"Glorfindel!"
He halted and let her come to him. He bowed slightly.
"My Lady Arwen."
"Did you find them?" Elrond's daughter asked him, catching both his hands in her own. Her blue eyes were wide with anxiety and tension.
He smiled kindly at her, squeezing her hands slightly.
"Yes. He is safe, Arwen. Didn't I tell you that all would be well?"
Relief swept through her and she embraced the tall Elf Lord, tears of joy spilling from her eyes.
"You did tell me that. Oh, Glorfindel! I am so glad that you found him!"
He smiled wryly, still holding her hands in his own.
"Are you indeed, little Elf maiden? I seem to recall someone insisting that she go to search for them instead of me."
Arwen laughed, her eyes shining.
"Yes. I seem to remember something like that. You should be grateful, you know. If it had been one of my brothers instead of myself, they would have knocked you over the head with a shovel, covered you with manure and then stolen Asfaloth and ridden out of here to find them on their own."
Glorfindel laughed, releasing her hands.
"I wouldn't put it past them. Or you either for that matter. And then I would have to come after you with a shovel and throw you in a ditch."
Arwen smiled up at him, embracing him once more.
"Thank you, Glorfindel." She moved past him. "Oh. Where is he?"
Glorfindel laughed.
"You had better slow down, my Lady. He is in the courtyard outside of your father's room."
"Father's room? Is something wrong?"
"One of the Periannath was injured."
"Oh, dear. Is there anything that I can do?"
"Your father is with him even now."
"Then I will hurry. Thank you again, Lord Glorfindel." Her eyes sparkled with amusement once more and she turned rushing down the path.
"Turn. Look there. Turn, Boromir. You're almost there."
"Captain Faramir?" The man bent by his leader and gently grasped his arm. "Faramir?"
The younger man started slightly as if shaken from sleep.
"Damrod? What is it?"
The man before him was dressed in green and brown as he was himself. They had stripped off their masks as they were in hiding in their refuge behind the waterfall.
"You were calling out. Is something wrong?"
Faramir blinked and rubbed his eyes.
"No, Damrod. All is well. 'Twas just a dream."
The man nodded, frowning slightly. They all knew about Faramir's dreams. He stood.
"Is he – alright, Faramir?"
"Who?"
"The Captain-General. Your brother. 'Tis his name you called."
Faramir glance up, seeing concern in the other's eyes.
"Yes. He is – He is nearing his destination I believe."
"That is good. He has been gone a long time."
Faramir nodded, his eyes distant.
"Over one hundred days." He shook his head. Why had it taken Boromir so long? :I will have to ask him when he returns. There are many things I want to ask him…too many.:
He had been troubled with dreams concerning Boromir for some time now. As with all dreams they seldom made any sense. Some times it was mere flashes of images, here one moment now gone.
Faramir shook his head. Many questions and few answers there were in dreams. Too many questions.
Boromir sat huddled beside his small fire staring at the cheerful little flames. He was weary beyond belief and discouraged. He had lost count of the days he had been traveling. And he was beginning to wonder, nay, he had been wondering for quite a time now, if Imladris ever truly had existed. He had followed the western side of the Misty Mountains, finding seldom used paths and overgrown roadways. But he had veered eastward at one point not many days ago and found himself on another mountain pass. He knew the stories of these passes, full of peril and danger. Goblins were said to inhabit these lonely stretches, venturing forth to waylay unwary travelers. But it hadn't been a Goblin that he had found. No, it had been an Orc.
It had been only a lone Orc, but it had nearly killed him. This had shaken him badly. He was a warrior, veteran of more combats than he could recall. Why had this one Orc nearly managed to kill him?
He had been riding on the pass that had turned west to his vast relief. He could see the rock walls receding ahead and urged his horse forward, ready to find a good spot to camp for the night. He had heard nothing, but perhaps, he admitted now, he hadn't been as alert as he should have been, when he exited the tunnel. To his delight he entered a wide expanse with a short growth of grass. He laughed slightly and kicked Hurin and they trotted into the opening. Like the man he was named for Hurin was not a tall horse, but strong and sturdily built, excellent for this sort of trip. But before he could dismount the Orc had come running from the west, growling to itself and spitting foul words that the man of Gondor was glad that he couldn't understand. He stared in amazement at it then turned Hurin about. But the Orc had sighted them. It narrowed its eyes and pulled an arrow from the quiver on its back and raised its bow. Boromir stared wide-eyed at the weapon. That was not an Orc bow! He spurred his horse back the way they had come. He felt the arrow whiz by his head, barely missing him. Hurin jumped ahead, knowing the precariousness of their situation. Boromir could hear the Orc yelling curses at him. They had to get out of this pass before the Orc caught up with them. Orc feet were better for negotiating the treacherous mountain pass than Hurin's hooves. Just when he was about to despair he saw a small declivity ahead. He hurriedly dismounted and led Hurin down the slope. It turned sharply and Boromir saw a deeper darkness in the rock face. If he had known what the hole in the wall had been used for he would have continued on. But since he didn't know that it was one of the many Goblins' backdoors he eased Hurin in and stood before the horse, his sword drawn. Being trained for battle, Hurin stood quietly behind his master, though his eyes rolled with fear. He heard the Orc coming, still muttering and growling in its harsh language.
Please let it pass by, he prayed desperately to any deity that might deign to listen.
The sound of his breathing seemed much too loud and harsh in his own ears as he waited for the Orc to pass by or attack him. But the sounds of vile speech receded and he let out a sigh of relief. He patted Hurin reassuringly and scratched the horse's ears, but as he started to lead the horse out the Orc yelled and jumped at him from the right side of the cave entrance. Gondor's Captain-General fell backwards in surprise, raising his sword to ward off the blow of the slim knife that the Orc wielded. He pushed the Orc back, not wanting to fight in the confined underground tunnel that he stood in. His sword clashed with the silver knife and the Orc growled low in his throat. The Orc lunged at him again, the sword's blade sliding along the knife bringing them face-to-face.
Boromir gasped staring into the Orc's eyes. They were blue! How could an Orc's eyes be blue? He found his thoughts racing and he shoved the thing back again.
Then on the clear still mountain air a voice was heard. Someone was singing. It sounded very far away, but the words drifted to them. Boromir didn't understand the words, but he knew that it was Elvish of some sort.
:I am dreaming.: He thought blearily. :I must be dreaming. Or else I am dead and do not realize it yet.:
Everything was too unreal.
And to his astonishment they became even more unreal.
The Orc raised its head and gazed at the stars. A look of pure pain filled its ugly face. The words of the song seemed to have captured the vile creature and it stood without moving.
"Ai! Ai!" It moaned at last, thrusting its sword into the night sky, as if breaking some spell placed upon it by the fair words. "Im alath car sen. Im alath car sen!" [I will not do this. I will not do this!] His gaze lowered to stare at the man. "You are lucky that Legolas Elvellon is near." He said in Westron, the blue eyes once filled with such hatred and anger, now seemed infinitely sad and lost. "He has saved you."
With that the Orc turned and ran back the way they had come.
Boromir swayed slightly. What was that? What had just befallen?
Hurin came out of the cave entrance and nuzzled his back. The man started and turned to the horse.
"I am dreaming, aren't I , Hurin? Yes." He sheathed his sword. "I am dreaming." He led the animal back up to the trail. He glanced uneasily in both directions but neither saw nor heard no sign of the Orc. Or anything else. He shook his head. "Yes. I am dreaming. Sleep walking. Yes. That is it. I am dreaming." He mounted the horse turning it westward.
From around an outcropping of rock the Orc watched the man ride away muttering to himself of dreams. When the rider and horse had disappeared from sight the Orc fell to its knees and wept bitter tears.
Authors Note: Sorry that I was soooo slow with this one. My little orcling muse was being very recalcitrant. Please forgive us.