Chapter Five: Rude Awakenings
Author's Notes: Okay, most of this is probably already common knowledge, but I'll mention it just to be certain this chapter makes sense. Celebrían – Elrond's wife – was tortured by orcs in TA 2510. So Elladan and Elrohir have a bit of a grudge against them – and I'm severely under-exaggerating. That's about all you need to know. And thank you to everyone who reviewed; I appreciate all of them! Sorry this chapter took so long.
~*~
The next day dawned early, the first pale light of day bursting into Estel's room along with a dressed – and armed – Silvan elf. Legolas strode efficiently over to his slumbering friend's bedside, followed closely by the man's elven brothers. Bending at the waist, the archer stretched out one slender hand and grasped Estel's shoulder, shaking the young man gently but hastily awake. Gray eyes fluttered blearily open, still groggy from the medicine of the previous night, and Legolas' earnest voice pierced Estel's drowsy daze. "You must wake up, my friend," the prince declared urgently, and Elladan and Elrohir seconded the motion by tickling their brother's bare feet. Estel kicked at them and focused on Legolas, trying to recall what had happened the night before. Had he done something wrong, and was being called before his father?
"Orcs have been spotted between Rivendell and Mirkwood," he told Elrond's foster son, anxiety for both kingdoms darkening his face. Those words made the mortal shoot out of bed – not in trouble, then – and spare no time in throwing on a few clothes while Legolas informed him of the situation. Modesty would have to wait for another time. The orcs would not reach the Last Homely House – not while they still lived. "My father's messenger returned late this past night, an arrow in his thigh." Slipping a traveling tunic over his head, Estel gave Legolas a questioning stare. "He will be fine," Legolas answered gratefully, understanding what Estel had been asking. "He could give us no sure report," the elven warrior relayed brusquely, waiting only for Estel to put on his boots before gesturing them all onto the balcony, "as it was very dark when they attacked. Still, he seems to think there are fewer than a dozen." Crouching on the edge of the balcony, Legolas swung his head back to grin at the three brothers, golden hair glowing like fire with the rising sun.
"A dozen orcs," he said powerfully, "are no match for the four of us. Come on!" And with that rallying cry he leapt off of the palace gallery and into the air, lithe body twisting as he fell – to land fluidly on his waiting horse, and look expectantly at the Peredhil children. Letting out war whoops of their own, the Half-elven twins jumped simultaneously over the balustrade and onto their own mounts. Estel leaned over the ledge for a moment, letting Legolas' steady gaze clear his mind for the task ahead. Then, lifting his closed fist into the air in a victorious gesture, he gave a fierce shout and stopped off the balcony. He and the blonde prince shared a brief smile as Elladan and Elrohir took the lead, then urged their steeds quickly on. They would fight for Rivendell this day, three elves and a man. Four royal children, and four warriors. The orcs stood no chance against them.
~*~
And the victory might have been as effortless as that, if there had been no more than the twelve orcs they had anticipated. However, either the Mirkwood envoy had purposefully tricked them – which was doubtful – or the elf had no grasp of numbers, for there were at least thirty of the ugly beasts trampling through the wood in search of . . . something. Likely one of the elf havens. Elladan and Elrohir's eyes glittered dangerously, and Legolas grabbed them both by the collars to prevent them from simply charging into the fray. "I know your thirst for vengeance runs deep," he murmured roughly to them, and Estel admired the prince's ability to shed his gaiety and cheer to lead them all, "but this is not a mere orc hunt. These beasts threaten our kingdoms and our families, and we can not afford to get ourselves killed because we attacked foolishly."
Though the twins' grip on their swords did not loosen, they nodded in agreement. They were listening to him. That, Elrond's youngest son knew, was remarkable in its rarity. Elladan and Elrohir had seen their mother Celebrían tortured by orcs, and after her departure for Valinor had made a pact to rid Middle Earth of their kind. They hunted the foul creatures with an intensity that bordered on fanatical, and Elrond had banned Estel from accompanying his brothers until he was sixteen out of fear for his mortal son's safety. Even after he was of an age to orc hunt with the twins it seemed to worry his foster father so that eventually he began to refuse his brothers when they asked his company. Elladan and Elrohir appeared almost relieved by his dismissal, and Estel did not doubt that they were. He – or anyone – could only slow them down, for when chasing orcs the two elves ate little and rested not at all. In respect and deference to Legolas – who had been raised in the ways of war – Estel's brothers held their swords.
They did not, however, hold their tongues, as both immediately turned on the elf prince and began arguing the virtue of leaping into the fray. Arguing near a small army of orcs, it suddenly became clear, was not a very good idea. Especially when the arguing was being done rather loudly – Elrond's sons really never had learned to whisper. Legolas looked up barely in time to dodge the black fletched arrow headed straight for his heart, and Estel felt his breath catch as he spurred his mount to the prince's side. If Legolas died, then he would follow. Elladan and Elrohir instantly left off protesting, instead disregarding Legolas' orders entirely and charging into the heart of the orc army, terrifying and vengeful, felling everything in their paths. Legolas and Estel were only slightly more subdued, for they were surrounded by the wretched creatures on all sides.
It did not take long to realize that – despite the fury of the twins and the skill of all four – there were simply too many orcs for them to fight. Where one fell, another took his place. Their numbers seemed inexhaustible – and all of them had targeted Estel. Legolas noticed it before he did, and the prince's cry drew even Elladan and Elrohir from their rage as he called them to protect their brother. Turning, they saw – as did Estel – the multitude of orcs lusting for his blood. And they remembered that there are some things more important than vengeance, some ties stronger than those of hate, but it was too late and the gap between them too wide.
They could only watch in horror as the youngest prince of Mirkwood fought two orcs from atop his horse, unable to see beyond the immediate threat to the dark arrow spiraling towards him. There was nothing they could do to stop their foster brother, who cut down his own opponent and lifted his head to glimpse the danger Legolas was in. A warning, Estel realized, would come too late. With a fierce, desperate cry he threw himself into his friend, toppling them both to the ground as the orc shaft embedded itself in his skin. From far away he heard one of the twins – Elladan – shout, "Arathorn!" and wondered whom his brother was calling to. Nearer, closer above him, Legolas drew his daggers and tried hopelessly to defend him from the fast converging army. Darkness blurred his vision, but Estel shook it away – biting down on the overwhelming pain – when he saw Legolas knocked to the ground.
The pain became unimportant when he saw that his friend made no move to rise, and he had to swallow down the fear that threatened to choke him before crying out to the twins. The voice that left his lips was cracked and jumbled, but it did not matter anyway, for the two identical elves sat frozen on their stallions, Elladan's mouth still slightly parted. Who was Arathorn, that his brother had called to him? And where was Legolas? Estel had only enough time to catch a glimpse of long, golden hair before rough hands closed over him and darkness engulfed his senses. He dreamed of death, and of a man that wore his face.
TBC – When Legolas and the twins have a . . . conversation.
