Hannah (Siri)'s still here! ;)
*glows* Thanks for all that excellent feedback!! You guys are so nice to us!! :D
Chloe don't be silly, you're really good at writing!! Oh and I don't think Sarah's too happy that you just put a chisel through her laptop ;)
(Uh Oh) Umn…Halo I think I'm out of tissue!! Sorry.
Oh yes, a plush Legolas sounds…umn…great :D Glad you're getting sleep again Leia :D
Yes, Cassia, you would ;) Now Cassia, do you really think we wanted to keep all that…lovely attention all to ourselves!! We're just umn…sharing some with you =D
Yes, Cassia and Sio are great! One of our prominent inspirations…I'm sure Legolas and Aragorn are…thrilled ;)
Yes, well that was one of those cases where we kinda carried a Mellon Chronicle Trend over to our story, cos Aragorn does seem to scold Legolas a lot when he realizes the elf didn't get enough sleep because of him or didn't get his injuries seen to because of him or whatever, (Return has the best example of this). It's just the habits of a concerned friend, I'm sure Legolas will forgive him ;)
Well, onto the next post!!
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Death or Despair
By Sarah and Hannah
(disclaimers, explanations, and summaries
available at the top of chapter 1)
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Chapter 10
What Must Be Done
"Clumsy fool!" The overseer snapped irritably, the awkward move of the slave eliciting a sharp crack across the side of his face.
Aragorn winced as the large man's hand reopened the burn still vividly imprinted on his cheek, moving quickly to right the fallen piece of armor which had landed, quite accidentally, on edge of the guard's cloak. He was fortunate the man had decided to act no further than a single blow and an insult.
Returning to his work, Aragorn forced himself to lift the large shaping hammer and drop it once again on the scimitar he was working with, continuing at a decent pace until the overseer at last moved away from his station. As soon as he was far enough away, the tired ranger dropped the hammer on top of the still glowing saber and gripped the edges of the block with all his might as a wave of dizziness overtook him — he wanted so desperately to get away from this heat.
Shutting his eyes for a moment he let the nausea pass. His wounds had not had time to heal properly and it was causing him to weaken, but he still had a reserve of strength that kept him working through the days. The young ranger opened his eyes again, finding, to his surprise, that someone was standing before him.
Assuming it was a second guard he gripped his hammer again, and, hoping the man hadn't been there long enough to catch his laziness, he dropped his eyes to his work — but a slender hand suddenly dropped on his, halting him midway, and he looked up. Legolas held his gaze with barely veiled concern.
"Are you well, Strider?" He questioned softly.
"I'm fine." Aragorn assured him, but he couldn't hide the fatigue no matter how hard he tried. "Just a little tired," he allowed, as he again began to pound at the scimitar.
"A moment ago I overheard two of the overseers talking," Legolas explained, apparently deciding to take the ranger at his word, and keeping his voice low. "One spoke concerning the progress of the tunnel, and it is nearly finished; the army will begin it's march on Gilthad any day now."
Aragorn stopped his work and looked up at Legolas once more, worry on his face, "What are we to do, Legolas?"
The elf shook his head. "I know not, but we must do something, and we are rapidly running the length of our time."
"Nevertheless, we cannot do this alone." Aragorn let out a long breath and stole a brief moment to look round at the slaves. "There are some, I believe, who would help us."
Legolas nodded. "Yes, but a bare few."
Aragorn felt despair creep on him — he hadn't realized how short on time they truly were: so much had happened to distract them. Now the time to act was upon them and they had no plan, no means of escape.
"You two," a voice snapped, finally noting their inaction, "back to work!"
Legolas moved away promptly, whispering to the ranger as he went, "Tonight, my friend, we will think of something."
Aragorn nodded in agreement, but he feared that they would be too late, and if they could not warn Gilthad, all would be lost.
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It was five hours into the next day when the slaves were finally relieved for the next shift. The guards were pushing them faster and harder than ever — many were falling asleep on their feet, and were finally given leave to rest. But Aragorn and Legolas could not sleep, for they knew the planning had to begin now.
They cautiously drew aside Kelegalen, Stavhold, Nethtalt, Brondadui and several other slaves they had come to know over the weeks, those they knew they could trust not to betray them. Moving to the dark corner where Aragorn and Legolas usually slept, they sat in a rough circle, their faced turned inwards.
"We have gathered you here, because we are intending to plan an escape, and we may need your help." These direct words of Legolas' were the first spoken after they were sure that no unwanted ears would overhear. The surprise was evident as the slaves exchanged glances, but Kelegalen did not move, seeming unsurprised.
"We have heard that Furnmorth intends to send his army to march on Gilthad from below ground, thereby taking hold of that strong fortress." Aragorn continued. The slaves evidently already knew of this and were unconcerned, so he pressed on, "If they were to take this fortress, they would hold dominion of the Grey Mountains, and with the absence of the dragons, nothing stretching from the east to west of these mountains would stand in their way."
"Once there, it is easily presumed that they will continue south," Legolas completed the explanation. "Conquering much, including my home in Mirkwood, as they increase both their wealth and their lands. Before many years have passed, the entire north could be ruled by the tyrant who now holds us captive."
No one spoke for a long time, so Aragorn filled the silence once again, "We must warn the dwarves so that they may defend themselves against the orc army, but to do this we must first escape with the message."
Stavhold instantly shook his head. "You would never reach Gilthad from here. It is a long journey and even were you to escape tomorrow, you would never reach Gilthad before the orc army."
"That is why we must make haste," Legolas insisted. "We are running very short on time, but if we can construct a plan to get myself and Strider away, there is a hope."
"Why should we care about your Mirkwood?" One of the men of Rohan spoke up from near the outer edge of the circle. "There is nothing there that concerns us, and we cannot hope to save it simply by warning a few dwarves, even if they do listen to an elf and a ranger."
"We must at least try," Aragorn protested. "And Mirkwood could mean a great deal to you, if they were to take hold of it. As Legolas said, soon they would have the man-power and resources, as well as the captured ground, to move towards larger realms, such as Rohan, if unchecked."
The man smirked, "Indeed? Do not even you, a ranger, know how far Rohan is from this place? They would never reach it's walls."
"It matters not of distance from Rohan," Legolas argued, "think of the many villages along the shores of the Bruinan, and the Anduin. Think of Fladweth."
"Fladweth is doomed," a slave taken from that village replied bleakly, leaving no room for argument.
"It does not have to be that way!" Nethtalt interrupted, his young face taut. "We could return and preserve it, but it will have no hope if we do not stop this evil from destroying it." Aragorn was startled at the wisdom and outspokenness of the youth and sent him an encouraging smile.
"We would never be able to help you escape in any case," Bronadui argued lightly. "There are guards everywhere and you'd never get to the exit. Why, even if you did they have a hound dog tracker in Captain Naraka — you'd never escape him."
"He could not catch us," Legolas countered. "Can you not see that this matter is of the utmost importance?" The elf tried hard not to become impatient with the men. "If Furnmorth's plans are not thwarted here, at their beginning, they will grow until turmoil engulfs all of Middle Earth." The words would have sounded idle if the elf had not put them forth with such force, such assurance of what needed to be done; but Aragorn could see as he looked around the circle that, though many recognized the importance of the prediction, it did not change the fear in their hearts.
"It is folly." A voice spat. All turned — and it was Helkhmorn, standing at the outskirts of the circle. Whether he had been wakened by their voices or had never fallen asleep, the group knew not, but he was among them now and his tone was cold. "It is pure folly," he repeated, "to believe that such a thing is possible. Your very lives depend on absolute obedience to those above; it depends on constant fear of the environment around you; it depends on listening closely and moving quickly, on performing your labor and not stopping to question anyone. It is the only way to survive, and depending on others will only bear you down. There is no room for hopeful endeavors here, they will only betray you to your ruin.
"As I spoke before: it is either death or it is despair. You may have it either way you like, but I choose to live as long as I possibly can and not attempt to be a brave fool. We all know that quite well: what happened to the ranger could happen to any one of us, if we dare to stand up." The words were spoken in such hard despondency, such cold understanding, that none could speak.
Aragorn watched as the faces of each condemned soul dropped from his gaze, hiding their defeat from him. The silence seemed endless.
"I, for one, will not stand idle if there is a task to be done."
The words were spoken as a light in the darkened room and all eyes turned from Helkhmorn to the speaker. Kelegalen, who had not spoken a word till this moment, was seated at Aragorn's left, and his eyes were fixed firmly on the two beside him, as though blocking out Helkhmorn and his words. "Our home at stake, or others' — it makes no difference to a true man of Rohan. To forget that we are defenders and that we have always been warriors is to forget that we are human, and living beings. We cannot avoid this task anymore than we can avoid our existence." Kelegalen's powerful voice held weight against Helkhmorn's despairing words, but it mattered not to the frightened slaves.
"We have not the strength of you Kelegalen," Stavhold murmured in the miserable pause that followed, and Kelegalen turned distressed eyes to the young man, shaking his head.
"Indeed, Stavhold, you would back away from your duty?"
The man turned his face away, but couldn't escape the man's stare. "I fear them, Kelegalen. I've seen what they do...I've *felt* what they do." Reluctantly the man turned his eyes back, one clouded and unseeing as Aragorn had predicted. "I am sorry, Kelegalen, but I cannot be so bold as you or Strider, or Legolas." Murmurs of agreement rippled through the others, and Bronadui as well, not wanting to break the walls of ignorance that he'd worked so hard to build up. One by one, they backed down and would not offer their aid.
"You show reason." Helkhmorn nodded approval to the men.
Kelegalen shook his head, his eyes full of regret. "You show cowardice," he whispered, and though his tone was not harsh, his disappointment was evident.
Aragorn felt his heart sink as he realized that Kelegalen was the only one who would side with them, and he searched the many faces, looking for some sign that they would change their minds, but none would, and his hope flickered and ventured towards death as the slaves turned and moved away from them.
"I will not stand idle!" Nethtalt exclaimed, rising to his feet. "I will help you, in any way I can." His eyes held a pure fire, and Aragorn felt himself once again lifted from despair as he smiled at the lad.
"Such bravery from one so young," Kelegalen marveled as he too smiled at Nethtalt.
"It is a treasure one does not see often," Legolas agreed, "but it can be abundant in some, and unremitting in it's consistency." The elf sent Aragorn a pointed, if humorous, look, as he once again compared their ages, but Aragorn only smiled in return.
"Can we truly make an escape plan with so few?" Nethtalt asked, sitting close to Kelegalen, his thin face openly curious.
"If it is a well thought out plan," Legolas nodded, "but we must be careful. What Bronadui said is true: Furnmorth's forces are not retaining hundreds of slaves by being lazy and careless. We must be very careful that our plan has many alternatives in case something goes wrong."
"First we should decide what will draw enough attention that the guards will not notice your escape," Kelegalen suggested.
Aragorn's mind sorted through the possibilities — an over turned pile of armor, a sudden slave brawl — but none of these were likely to work, and even if they did, it would be difficult to make it serious enough to draw all Naraka's men to them.
"What if we were to spill something," the ranger suggested doubtfully, "like melted metal?"
"No," Legolas shook his head slowly, "people could get hurt."
"What is it Nethtalt?" Kelegalen asked abruptly, turning to the boy who was frowning down at his hands, seemingly in deep thought, as if he was trying to take hold of an idea.
"No," he said carefully, causing them all to watch him closely, "not spilling melted metal..."
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The plan was a good one. Legolas admitted to feeling surprise that, with the exception of a few minor adjustments, Nethtalt had come up with it nearly on his own. Truly the insight of the child was great.
The lad had stayed awake long talking to the others, but had finally succumbed to fatigue and, leaning against Kelegalen, he'd drifted into a peaceful slumber. The man of Rohan had wrapped an arm around the boy, and he too soon fell asleep. Now only Aragorn and Legolas were still awake in the chamber.
"Do you think this will work, Legolas?" Aragorn asked, his voice no louder than a breath.
"Yes, I do," Legolas nodded. "It is dangerous and allows for only one chance at escape, but hopefully none will be hurt, and it is worth the risk to avoid any injury to others."
Aragorn nodded in agreement, "That is true." His last word was drowned as he felt sleep beginning to overtake him.
"Strider," Legolas' voice drew Aragorn back, and he looked hazily up at his friend. "Strider we are walking into a great danger," the elf whispered when he was sure the ranger was listening. "It is not likely, but possible, that one of us may not make it out. Now I wish for you to *promise* me that you will continue on to Gilthad and warn the dwarves. Even if I am not with you, you must swear to complete the mission. You know how much is at stake."
"Wait," Aragorn was fully awake now and staring hard at his friend. "What do you mean 'if you're not with me'?"
"I'm weak Aragorn," Legolas admitted. "Right now I am sure I will make it out, but Illuvitar knows things can go wrong, and if we are separated and you are able to escape: do so. You must promise me this."
Aragorn knew what he was promising; he understood that it was no light matter, as did Legolas. The two friends were bound to each other by a strong friendship and it was deep in both of them to never abandon a comrade, but Legolas was right: with so much at stake, both had to be willing to sacrifice whatever they must to see the task completed. To see Gilthad saved.
He nodded with firmness and gripped Legolas' forearm tightly, "I swear to you, Legolas Greenleaf, I will not let our mission fail, even if I am alone." The ranger saw relief in the elf's face, as if some great burden had been lifted, and this made him uneasy. "You must promise as well Legolas," he prompted after a moment.
Legolas nodded, though he seemed reluctant, "Yes Aragorn, son of Arathorn, I swear to you, I will not let this mission fail, even if I be alone." The elf reached out his free hand and gripped Aragorn's forearm. They knew what they had to do, they knew what it could cost, but they were prepared to do it. They had the strength and the will.
TBC…