Chapter 5 Fight
in the Night
Aragorn was entrapped in a wall of ice. His hand still gripped his sword hilt,
but it was as if iron bonds held him, and he could not move, or tear his eyes
away from the black elf that stood before him. He was aware of the other
members of the company around him, Gimli right at his side, yet they seemed to
be frozen as well. Watching in horror, yet unable to help.
`Not this way! Not like this!' A voice screamed in Aragorn's head. `Fight
it. FIGHT!'
Yet even as Aragorn's mind tore desperately at the invisible bonds that
entrapped him, the dark elf drew back the bowstring and released the arrow.
....................................................................................................................
Up on the hilltop, Legolas watched in dismay as Aragorn first noticed the
stranger and called out a greeting. However, unlike his dream, Legolas remained
inactive only for a second before sending Shandarell charging down the hill.
The camp at the other end of the valley seemed impossibly far, yet Shandarell,
as if sensing his rider's urgency, ran faster than ever. His hoof beats were
muted, and he seemed to be flying more than running over the uneven ground.
Legolas watched as the dark shadow threw back its hood, and a shudder ran
through him as the creature was revealed. Yet he did not hesitate, reaching
back and grabbing his bow and a single arrow.
Even as the elf-creature lifted its bow, pointing it at Aragorn, Legolas raised
his own, ignoring the pain in his arm. Beneath him, Shandarell slowed, as if
sensing the great evil that was before him. Legolas urged him on with legs and
voice, and the brave horse continued forward, although his speed continued to
slacken.
The dark elf was taking his time, toying with his frozen prey, and this allowed
Legolas the precious seconds he needed. He knew he would need to get very close
in order to make the shot in the nighttime darkness.
Two drawstrings were pulled back, and a black arrow was released, its purpose to
bring pain and death. Yet only a heartbeat later, another arrow was released,
this one with the purpose of life and hope.
Both arrows were shot with deadly accuracy, speeding toward their intended
target. Yet only one struck true.
Legolas's shot slammed into the black arrow, sending it careening into the
night, a mere foot in front of Aragorn!
Legolas felt a thrill of victory, but it was short lived. With startling speed,
the dark elf spun and released another arrow, this time at Legolas.
Shandarell screamed and swerved, and Legolas threw himself sideways, off the
horse's back, and away from the deadly path of the arrow.
He hit the ground hard, all the air leaving his lungs, his bow flying from his
suddenly numb hand to land several feet away. He immediately tried to rise, but
his body wasn't cooperating, and his vision had been replaced by a thousand
sparkling dots.
As for Aragorn, the moment the dark creature had turned away from him, the
invisible ice surrounding him seemed to shatter. He stumbled forward, gasping
for air to fill his starved lungs. Beside him, Gimli fell to his knees, his own
harsh breathing filling the air.
Aragorn felt a strong desire to join the dwarf on the ground. A great weariness
washed over him, robbing him of all his strength. He looked up just in time to
see Legolas fling himself from his horse's back, a black arrow narrowly missing
the elf's head.
Pushing the feelings of weakness from him, Aragorn gathered his remaining
strength. Drawing his sword, he leapt forward to his friend's aid.
*****
Aragorn's movement brought Gimli back
to his senses. Gritting his teeth, he pushed himself to his feet and drew his
axe. Behind him, he heard the ring of metal as the guards drew their own
swords. Gimli was about to rush forward and join Legolas and Aragorn when a cry
from one of the hobbits caused him to turn.
The four halflings had not been unaffected by the dark elf's gaze. Pippin lay
on the ground, a completely dazed look on his face. Merry and Sam were both
little better off, though they had managed to make it to their knees. Frodo
alone remained standing, and he swayed as if he were about to fall over any
second. It was he who had cried out, for he had drawn his blade, Sting, which
now shone brightly in the dark night.
Frodo met Gimli's eyes across the flickering flame of the campsite, the same
thought running between the two.
"Orcs!" The word had barely left Gimli's mouth when they attacked,
swarming out of the shadows, and down off the hills, their howls chilling the
blood. Gimli hesitated, torn between the helpless hobbits before him, and his
desire to go to Legolas. His hesitation lasted only a second, before he leapt
forward. He grabbed Pippin and yanked the shaken hobbit to his feet.
"Stand up, for we have a fight before us!"
Frodo helped Merry and Sam up as the rest of the guards circled round. They
formed a small, pitiful island against the wave of orcs charging them.
"Stay together," Gimli shouted. "Do not let them separate us!
And stay close to the camp fire." He tried to glance over to where he had
last seen Legolas and Aragorn, but at just that moment the first wave of orcs
reached them. Gimli stuck out with his axe, the force of his blow knocking down
two of the creatures. Beside him, the hobbits clustered back to back, striking
out at any orc that strayed too close.
Gimli realized that the only thing that saved them from being completely
overrun was the fact that the orcs had not stopped to group together. If they
had, the little company would have been quickly overcome. As it was, the orcs'
attack was scattered. Still, they came upon them in waves, and fight was
quickly becoming desperate.
Gimli yanked his axe free from the chest of one orc, then spun and decapitated
another of the foul creatures with one blow. All his previous weariness was
gone, replaced by the fire of battle. He knew he would not likely survive this
battle, yet he intended on taking as many of these foul creatures as possible
to the grave with him. Bellowing his war cry, Gimli charged into a group of
orcs, his axe hacking left and right.
The hobbits were faring quite well. They hung behind the first defense line
formed by Gimli and the guards, taking care of any orcs that managed to break
through. The dark blood of the creatures muted Sting's bright glow, but Frodo
didn't have the time or inclination to wipe the blade clean.
Beside him, Sam suddenly cried out, dropping to his knees, his hands going to a
deep cut above his left eye. The wound was already beginning to gush blood,
turning the side of the hobbit's face scarlet. The orc who had dealt the blow
lunged forward, intent on finishing the job. The three remaining hobbits leapt
to Sam's aid, and so fierce was their attack that the creature fell back from
them, before Pippin's blade ended its life. Sam stumbled back to his feet,
holding his sword resolutely in his shaking hand.
Another, larger wave of orcs crashed into the small company, sending them
stumbling backwards, yet somehow they managed to stay together. However, time
was quickly running out for them.
******
After Aragorn had broken free from his prison of ice, he had
immediately drawn his sword and raced to aid his friend.
He reached Legolas's side, and knelt down next to the fallen elf. His friend
was conscious, but seemed to be struggling for breath. His shoulder was bent at
an odd angle, and his eyes were glazed and unfocused. Aragorn looked up to the
place where his enemy stood.
The dark elf had lowered its bow, and now stood regarding him, an evil smile
playing across his face.
As Aragorn once again looked upon the creature, he felt the wave of evil and
intense cold try to entrap him a second time. Yet he had broken free once, and
he refused to be bound again.
"Has the little elf fallen off his horse?" The question was cold and
mocking, and the voice low and full of evil. "I hope he is not hurt too
bad. It will take all the fun out of torturing him later on!"
Aragorn rose and met the creature's gaze full on. They were several yards out
from the light of the campfire, yet Aragorn somehow still noticed that the dark
elf's eyes were completely black, with no sign of pupils. "You will have
to pass me first!" he declared, his voice firm and with no hint of fear.
The dark elf merely laughed, the evil sound sending cold fingers of ice down
Aragorn's back. Vaguely, he became aware of harsh shouts behind him and the
sound of metal clashing against metal. He paid little heed, however, for he was
in his own battle, and might as well have been in another world for all the
attention he gave to his surroundings. Raising his arm, he lunged forward; his
sword sweeping around in a perfect arc aimed at the creature's head.
The elf-creature moved with the speed of a cat, darting out of range of
Aragorn's sword, and causing the blade to sweep through empty air.
Aragorn was too good of a swordsman to be thrown off balance by such a simple
and expected move. Using his forward momentum, he pivoted on the balls of his
feet, spinning smoothly, before coming to rest facing the dark elf. His feet
were spread wide, his sword raised before him, his entire body the perfect
picture of strength and grace.
Once again, the dark elf laughed, the sound low and mocking. Long seconds
passed, as the two merely stared at each other, then the black elf reached
beneath his cloak and drew out a long, black sword. The weapon seemed to
swallow all the light around it, blending into the dark creature behind it.
"And now, let us find out how long you can stand against me!" With
these words, the dark elf sprang forward, quicker than lighting, slashing out
with his sword. Yet Aragorn had expected such a move, and his own blade came
up, meeting and blocking the blow. For an instant, the two were locked
together, face to face, and the evil Aragorn felt emanating from the creature
made his stomach turn.
The two flung apart, then came together again in a great flash of ringing
blades, before separating once more.
Anyone watching the fight would have had to compare it more to a dance - a wild
dance of strength and grace. Aragorn's movements were perfectly timed and perfectly
executed, and for a time, it seemed as if he had the upper hand. After the
first attack, the dark elf had gone on the defensive, seemingly completely
absorbed with fending off Aragorn's attacks, and not mounting any of his own.
Yet no matter how hard Aragorn pressed him, the elf matched him move for move.
Several minutes passed, and sweat soon covered his body, despite the cold night
wind. It took all his strength to keep his movements even and smooth as his
tired body began to rebel against the abuse it had taken this day. His
breathing was harsh, and echoed in his ears. Yet even as Aragorn tired, it
seemed as if the dark elf gained new strength. His movements became faster and
faster.
Then suddenly, without warning, the dark elf switched to the attack, and
Aragorn found himself hard pressed to keep that deadly blade away from him. His
sword always came up a split second in time to block the other's weapon.
Suddenly, Aragorn realized the truth. The creature was much faster than he. In
truth, much faster than anything Aragorn had ever faced before. The dark elf
was only toying with him!
`He could finish me anytime he wants,' Aragorn thought, even as once more his
sword blocked a blow only a split second before it reached him. He was
exhausted, every muscle screaming in protest to the slightest movement. `But I
will not allow him to have his way! He will not win with me.'
Even as the thought finished running through his head, Aragorn moved. Not away
and back from the creature's sword, but instead, he pivoted forward, right into
the path of the dark blade.
The dark elf was so surprised by the daring move that he hesitated slightly,
his sword wavering just for an instant. It was just what Aragorn had been
looking for. He continued his pivot, gritting his teeth in pain as he felt his
enemy's sword cut deeply into the flesh of his ribs. Yet Aragorn had done what
he wanted. The dark elf's sword was now on the wrong side of him, and there was
nothing between his own blade and the hated creature's unprotected chest.
Aragorn thrust upward with all his remaining strength. Too late, the creature
realized his error, and tried to dodge the sword thrust, but for the first
time, he was not quite fast enough. Aragorn's blade bit deeply into the dark
elf's chest, and the creature stumbled back, hissing in pain, dark blood
bubbling out and down its chest.
Aragorn also stumbled backwards, gasping in pain as he felt his own blood
soaking his shirt and flowing down his ribs.
Aragorn stared at the dark elf, waiting for the creature's next move. Although
he had not managed to kill the creature, he believed that he had managed to
grievously injure it. He could only hope he had caused more serious injury than
he himself had attained.
The dark elf's next action took Aragorn completely by surprise. The creature
began to laugh! At first, just short chuckles, but then it escalated into a
full-blown bellow of mirth. Aragorn watched in disbelief, his heart sinking and
all hope leaving him, as the wound on the elf began to close, mending itself
until all that remained was the spots of blood on the creature's chest.
The dark elf's laugh cut off suddenly, but he continued to grin evilly as he
looked at Aragorn. "Do you hear that?" the elf asked softly.
Aragorn once again became aware of the sound of fighting; yet he didn't even
have the strength to turn and find its source. All his remaining strength had
left him at the sight of the creature's wound closing in on itself.
The dark elf took a step closer. "That is the sound of my orcs, attacking
your pitiful company. I am sure the battle will be over soon, and your friends
will be nothing but meat for my hungry army's belly.
Aragorn tried to shake his head in denial, but his rebelling body would not
even allow that small show of defiance.
"I think I will kill you now," the dark elf continued. "I will
do it slowly, for you have caused me great inconvenience. And when I am
finished with you, I will allow my orcs to have your little elf friend. I think
they would greatly enjoy that, and they should have a reward for their deeds
tonight.
"No," Aragorn finally managed, but his voice sounded weak, even to
him. He sank to his knees, too weary and hopeless even to remain standing.
"Oh yes. I wonder how long it will take for my creatures to break him. You
can ponder that thought as I end your pitiful life." The dark elf raised
his sword above Aragorn's head, a malicious smile upon his face.
At the last, Aragorn felt a last stirring of defiance inside himself. If he
were going to die, he would at least die on his feet, not kneeling in front of
this creature of evil. He gritted his teeth against the pain in his side, and
attempted to push himself to his feet.
Yet even before he had managed to rise half way, a great light flared,
temporarily blinding him and flooding the entire valley with its warm glow.
Aragorn fell back to the ground, and the creature above him let out a shrill
cry. It was as if midday had somehow miraculously come to the valley in the
dead of night!
Dropping the sword, the dark elf used both his hands to cover his face and eyes
against the glare of the bright light. The entire valley was silent, the sound
of battle completely gone. Then the silence was shattered by an ear-piercing
shriek. The cry still tearing from his lungs, the creature turned and fled into
the forest, away from the light.
The last thing Aragorn saw as he slipped into unconsciousness was a figure,
standing tall on one of the hills surrounding the valley. The figure was
dressed completely in white, that billowed and swept about him in the wind. The
light that filled the valley emanated from a single point in the staff held in
the figure's outstretched hand.
..................................................................................................
Well, that's the end of chapter five, and it is 1:00 in the morning.
**Yawn** I hope you enjoy. Sorry about the `Robin Hood' scene in the first
part, but I just HAD to put it in. For those of you who commented on me
responding to your reviews, let me just say that it is my pleasure. I know I
would not have been able to make it this far, this fast, without you all
pushing me and encouraging me. I intend to continue responding to all of you
for as long as I can. (until the response page is longer than the story!)
AJ Matthews--You are always the first to review my chapters. And although you
don't `say' much, I `hear' a lot. Thanks!
Mia_philosophet--Me? **looks around innocently** Leave my characters in bad
positions? NEVER!! LOL Thanks for helping me look over the first part of this
chapter, and telling me what you thought. I'll pass on your compliment to my
sister.
Thundera Tiger--Once again I read through your review at least three times, and
then I read it again to my family. They have started to ask, "What did
Thundera Tiger write?" You really expected an elf? Wow, I wasn't even
certain until the last second! Thanks for all the great reviews, and please
DON'T STOP! **Sits forward eagerly**
Long under tree--You can be a jinx all you want, just don't mention how fast I
write my chapters again! LOL I don't know whether I've mentioned this before or
not, but the interaction between Gimli and Legolas is one of the things I love
so much in the book! I think they should have put more of it in the movie, but
that is pretty much my only complaint.
Silvertears--Wow. Another score on a favorite's list. THANKS
Ivy--You were right on two accounts. I did have Legolas save him, and I am a
Legolas fan. **waves Legolas flag around in the air** You were, however, very
Wrong on one thing. I most definitely DO NOT see Aragorn as a weak and stupid
fool. There is a reason he was just standing there. Hint(Think back to the
elven hunting party in the first chapter)
Ginger--Last, but definitely not least! I will try to keep up the good work.
