Sarah returns! (Siri will pop in next time)
Cheysuli: *cracks up* LOL! Yeah, I've heard orc-flesh isn't exactly ambrosia…
Asen: Nice to see ya! As for the dwarf names: hang around after the end of the last chapter and we'll tell ya! : )
Saige: You're right, it wouldn't. ; )
Lina: *giggles* You're the oddest combination of lover and mother I've ever seen. And who wouldn't smell skanky with the kind of life he leads?
Chloe: As usual, you put your sister and myself into hearty rounds of hysterics every time you post. Every time you open your mouth, actually… CHIGITA-SHIFTY-CHOOGIDA-BOOGIDO!?? What author in the world uses THAT?? I'm glad you like my sound-effects, though; I'm rather fond of them. As for Moin… heyah, well, he's sort of, um, a nuisance to write (though I will mention that, like Nowin, Hannah invented him); it's difficult to write characters when the only thing you're looking forward to about them is their deaths. But who said Moin dies? *sigh*
Okay, and while you mull that over and try to decide whether or not it's a red herring: I'm also glad you liked the irony and arrow scenes! Both those were added as sort of after thoughts, and I was unsure as to how the arrow scene in particular would go over. I had a lot of fun writing it! : )
None: Okey-doke! I just didn't want to keep calling you 'None' if it turned out you had just forgotten to put down your screen name. And yes, insanity is pleasantly catching with them (pleasant from the writer's POV anyway).
saber crazy: Shoulda seen that one coming… Still, I guess it's a compliment!
Starfleet Hobbit: Tell you??? Oh, no, no, no, no… ; )
RainyDayz: *glances worriedly at new ammo while trying to be diplomatic* No, we don't enjoy it, uh, TOO much, just, well, a little. And I don't know where that rumor got started, but you'll find out the truth of it soon enough. Thanks! *hides*
SpaceVixen: Be careful not to break someone's jaw… Someone non-orc, that is. ; )
Halo: Whence came this 'meep'??
Tom: As I told Chloe, I dislike Moin also. *sigh* Still, such people DO exist, and well… *tries to stop fist from clenching* Anyway, I'm glad you like our action!!
Littlefish: Bad for blood pressure? US?? *blushes* Oh, you're too kind. Thank you for the prized compliment on our battle! Siri's done one-on-one stuff, but I hadn't even done *that* before now (the wolf scene was pretty much my first), and neither one of us have seriously tackled major battles before. We weren't quite sure how they'd come off, and I especially worried about whether our readers would find the back and forth thing confusing or irritating... I'm glad you didn't!
*blushes scarlet* And thank you about the dwarves too! My goodness gracious sakes, but you *do* know how to make people feel more confident, don't you? I think the only thing we were really aiming for with the dwarves was keeping them from becoming just another set of villains. After all: People like Moin can be found even amongst elves, but then, so can people like Legolas amongst dwarves.
And as for your questions: They will be answered in the following four chapters, and I hope you will be pleased at the end! : )
And now, oh faithful and excellent Writers Of Feedback: Your reward for being so complimentary!
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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 18
Cave-In!
The arrival of Nowin and his archers was greatly appreciated. The ranks of dwarves under the command of Bonfur rallied behind him preparing a volley of shafts to send into the oncoming horde that was slowly pushing them into a corner. "Steady your aim lads!" Bonfur called. "Drop and fire!" The two orders were obeyed immediately — the dwarves armed only with axes dropped to the ground and the first volley of shafts was loosed at the enemy. "Drop and fire!" Bonfur called again, and the archers ducked to reload their arrows as the second volley was fired into the orcs from behind the first. The shrieking of orcs echoed through the chamber as the shafts found their marks. As soon as these archers ducked to reload, the warriors armed with axes rushed forward, charging the orcs and taking full advantage of their surprise attack. Bonfur would have never admitted it even in his mind, but it was hard to escape the fact that the elf's information had been correct: the weakness in the orcs' armor was destroying them.
When the axe dwarves fell back, Nowin's archers were ready for another round of fire with Bonfur's archers at the ready directly behind. Bonfur allowed a smile to cross his face, the orcs were falling before the attack in hideous mounds.
Slowly the battle was being won.
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The last cries of the crushed orcs filled Aragorn's ears as the world fell down around him. He had been in a cave-in before and knew enough to keep ahead of it this time. He was well down the shaft when the ripple effect of Glor's work encroached on his ground. Putting on an extra burst of speed he crossed the distance to the light at the end of the tunnel, ignoring the heavy rainfall of gravel. Reaching the mouth of the tunnel, Aragorn did not pause to be further injured by the falling debris but threw himself into the chamber.
He entered out into chaos.
Everywhere dwarves and orcs were locked in combat, the orcs that had fled the tunnel swarming in and overwhelming the already failing dwarves. Even as he fought to get his bearings, a dwarf beside him was cut down by the viciously accurate blade of an orc warrior, killing him instantly.
From somewhere further on an arrow shot past him and lodged firmly in the throat of an orc, right where the armor failed. Relief that the dwarves had discovered the armor's weakness flowed briefly through him — that at least made up some for his failure. Though he had been unable to warn the dwarves, he would not let himself despair. He would fight to his own end if it meant he could save his friend's home.
No longer hunched over so as to pass as an orc, the Dúnadan straightened. Through the open place in his helmet he clearly saw where the thick of the battle lay, and heedless of the danger, Aragorn plunged into the mêlée, cutting down orcs even as he crossed the chamber.
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The leader let out a pained scream as Legolas' knife found flesh, driving harshly into his back. The man fell, but Legolas all ready knew it was not Balkhfiren. His eyes probed over the heads of swarming orcs and battling dwarves — the ranks of Moín were being steadily driven back and Legolas knew before long it would be too late to warn Dorm...but he did not wish to leave his job unfinished. He knew the dwarves would stand a better chance against the enemy if the orcs were leaderless.
Whirling from the fallen man he loosed three arrows rapidly at a group of orcs surrounding some dwarves near the orcs' forced entrance, all the while keeping half his mind aware of his own defense as the battle swirled and raged close about him. Legolas' keen gaze swept the chamber, hoping to catch sight of Balkhfiren, seeing instead another man, battling deep in the thick of the attacks.
He could not get a clear view of the man's progress or fighting capability, but it did not matter: the men must be killed. The elf pushed with a surprising grace through the crowds of battling orcs and dwarves, pausing but once to whirl and shoot an arrow into the throat of one orc trying to over power him. Legolas turned back to the man who was even now raising a dagger to cut into the victim beneath him and abruptly end the fight between the orc and dwarf.
In a burst of fury Legolas flew forwards and wrapped a strong arm across the man's throat, jerking him roughly away from the two warriors and back towards the wall. He had taken the man entirely off guard and for a moment the human did not react, and when he did begin to struggle, Legolas had him too firmly for him to escape.
The prince wrenched the helmet from the man's head so as to get a clear place to drive a dagger into the flesh of the man's throat. The helmet clattered to the floor and an abundance of dark hair fell across Legolas' arm. But the elf did not take notice of it, his slender hands moving swiftly as he pressed his dagger hard to the man's neck.
The man let out a light cry of pain at the sudden pressure and it was in that moment that a very real truth struck Legolas. The elf nearly fell over backwards, but just managed to keep his wits as he pulled the man around...and stared directly into a pair of vibrant blue eyes.
For a full minute, as the battle stormed on, neither could say a word. Then the man choked on a sob as he looked up at the elf, gently reaching up to touch him, to assure himself that he was really there.
"Legolas..." He whispered, his eyes showing an unexpected look of pain. The prince himself was as shocked to see the ranger as he was that he had nearly killed his friend, but there was something else in the young man's eyes as he stared at Legolas… Suddenly Aragorn stumbled forward, still slightly winded by the elf's attack, and embraced his friend tightly. Legolas, relieved to see the young man alive and well, returned the embrace in kind. "Naraka said you were dead." Aragorn whispered after a moment and Legolas felt his heart shiver in realization.
All this time, the young man had truly thought the elf was dead. Alone in Gundabad, with Naraka's lies preying upon his heart — Legolas' fury burned hotly, but for now there was no place for that, or fatal mistakes might be made.
Gently pulling away, he looked at the ranger. "I am well my friend, I am very well. I am only glad to see *you* so."
Aragorn's eyes had tears in them, but he smiled. He looked ready to say something else when at last an orc caught sight of them standing still, broke away from it's fight, and lunged at Legolas. The unfortunate brute found an arrow and dagger waiting for him and fell instantly. Aragorn was still smiling as he turned back to the elf, a new confidence in his bearing.
"I feel we should return to the fight."
Legolas nodded and smiled back, gripping his friend's arm, they would have to speak further later. And now that they were together again, they both felt sure there would be a later.
Leaving the slight safety of the wall, they rejoined the battle around them.
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The knot of orcs surrounding the score dwarves never heard the attack coming — in the tumult behind them the whisper of the elf and human was impossible to distinguish and only one lived long enough to realize who was attacking them before they all lay dead. Aragorn swiftly stabbed the last and withdrew his sword smoothly as the creature fell with a howl and a dwarf leapt out of it's path. Without a word of thanks the dwarves dove back into the fray. Three fell immediately.
"What happened here?" Aragorn asked. Organization was all but gone and he watched with dismay as the last vestiges of the defending army were slowly cut down.
Legolas observed the battle grimly and said nothing for a moment, then: "Moín is a fool." Aragorn knew not who 'Moín' was, but he presumed it was a dwarf. Legolas turned away as six more dwarves fell. "We must warn Lord Dorm, we haven't much time and before long these orcs will swarm the smelting chambers. They will take the dwarves completely off guard and cut off any hope of escape."
Aragorn nodded. "Then let us hurry."
Legolas started to lead him towards a faster exit that he knew of, and he realized he would have to leave Balkhfiren. He was not sure where the man was, but it mattered little now.
The combat around them had not ceased, but Aragorn could see the lull of effort on the dwarves' parts; they were giving up. Aragorn dropped nearly to his knees to avoid a orc blade that had been sent singing towards him, rising almost without thinking to continue on — he knew enough about these particular creatures to recognize that they had deadly aim. From his encounter with them in Gundabad he also knew of their ruthlessness and the searing burn on his cheek served as a constant reminder.
Legolas led the way far ahead, lithely dodging the many battling dwarves and orcs, inserting an arrow where he could, but always aiming ahead along his path so he could retrieve it later. It soon became apparent where the elf was heading: a small shelf above them that seemed to lead on to another cave. It struck the ranger then that Legolas was, yet again, being forced to traverse the underground, and he felt a moment of regret that his friend was forever having to deal with this fear of his.
They were drawing closer when a dwarf tumbled, dead, into Aragorn's path, causing him to stumble backwards. He caught his footing quickly, but it was a distraction he could not afford to make.
In the instant he stumbled he felt a strong arm grip him around the chest and yank him backwards, nearly taking him off his feet anyway. Aragorn tensed as his captor grabbed hold of his wrist and squeezed it hard — he tried to hold onto his sword but the pressure was too much and the weapon clattered to the floor. "Where are *you* going?" Balkhfiren snarled in his ear, gripping his dark hair and pulling the young man's head against his shoulder. Aragorn tried to wrench away, but the lieutenant would not give him the chance. "Just thought you'd come along for the ride, slave?" he spat, jerking Aragorn harshly, then releasing his hair long enough to snatch a dagger out from it's sheath. Without a moment of hesitation he pressed the weapon into Aragorn's back beginning to plunge it towards the young man's ribs and past that, to his heart. A killing thrust. Aragorn gave a cry as the dagger bit into his flesh.
Suddenly a hiss of air passed a mere inch from the ranger's head and a long arrow buried itself in his attacker's throat. Balkhfiren choked, screaming without sound, and released the ranger, wrenching the dagger free at the same moment. Aragorn arched his back sharply at the pain and lurched forward, only to be caught by steady hands and gently moved away.
"I have you, Strider." Legolas spoke reassuringly, angry with himself for very nearly loosing his friend after so soon gaining him back again. Aragorn let out a moan he had not meant to reveal.
"I'm fine, Legolas," he whispered, his voice trembling. Trying to straighten, he protested when the elf did not release him, "Really I am."
"Is that right?" Legolas sounded anything but interested in his answer.
Actually, Aragorn *didn't* feel very good, and the deep wound in his back made it hard for him to climb to the mouth of the tunnel above them, but he felt he would be fine if only they could stop for a moment. Once in the tunnel though, Legolas came to a full standstill and turned on his friend.
"Let me see that."
"No," Aragorn shook his head firmly, "we've wasted much time already. You must make haste if you are to warn the—" His words were cut short and ended in a hiss of pain as Legolas pressed some ointment he had prepared days before, in case of an emergency, into the wound.
"Do not try to argue with me, human." Legolas scolded. "We waste more time with your stubborn insistence." The elf made short work of bandaging the cut, and when he was through Aragorn did feel much better, but still he paused. He knew that the battle was waning to nothing below as the orcs slew the last remnants of the dwarves.
The ranger looked half tempted to return to the warriors' aid, but Legolas put a hand on his friend's arm, restraining him gently. "Worry yourself not, Strider, their own folly was their destruction and we can do nothing for them now. However we may yet save the lives of others." With these words the two continued down the tunnel. Legolas quietly explained that the only route the orcs, now more thirsty than ever for blood, could take was one main passage that was itself twice the length of the path they traveled now. "Had Balkhfiren still been alive he would likely have noticed a shorter way," Legolas murmured from just ahead of the human, "but with only the last few men taking command, they will take the surest way."
Aragorn nodded: they still had time.
The tunnel opened out into a darkened chamber. "This is a side room to the smelting chamber." Legolas explained as they swiftly moved from the room down a hall. At the edge of this hall Aragorn saw the larger hall branching off towards the place where the orcs would come, and even now he could hear their cries of glee as they ran down the passage, greedy for their next kill. For a moment Aragorn stopped and stared at the walls as the yells of orcs began to fill the air, then Legolas grabbed the slightly dazed ranger and pulled him into the smelting chamber.
Here the battle was at a peak, though Dorm's dwarves seemed to be taking the upper hand. At least they had kept the orcs at bay by their forced entrance...but that would soon change.
"Lord Dorm!" Legolas called over the throb of battle. The dwarf lord ignored the elf as he gave leave to his archers to send another volley into the approaching horde. "Dorm!" Legolas tried again, knowing the dwarf could hear him, but still he gave no answer. Aragorn cocked a glance over his shoulder: the orcs would be upon them soon and these dwarves had not the time to be stubborn.
Angrily, Aragorn stormed towards the dwarven lord. Had the battle not been so important, he might have given in to his inclination and slammed the stubborn creature against the wall. "My lord, there are orcs even now massing down that passage to gather here and take you from behind."
Dorm stopped dead in the middle of an order and whirled on the human. "And who, may I ask, are you?"
"I am Legolas' friend," the ranger replied simply, "and I swear to you, Dorm, that if you do not act now the enemy will be upon you before you have a chance to prevent it."
Dorm took in the young man's words and the intensity of his eyes and gave a short, curt nod. "Rundin, Gruri and Dorin, you take your troops and block the back entrance, do not let anyone get through!"
"It won't be enough." Legolas observed from where he'd come to stand next to Aragorn.
"It has to be." Dorm said in a surprisingly quiet voice.
Legolas shouldered his bow with a swift swing and Aragorn drew his sword once more from it's scabbard.
"We will do all we can." The Dúnadan promised and the two companions headed for the mouth of the cave.
Dorm stared for a moment odd the odd pairing. To him it was quite as odd as seeing a dwarf in the comfortable company of an elf — perish the thought. But somehow, this man and this elf had both loyalty and trust between them, easily recognized by even those who avoided both groups. //That must have been the one the elf was going back to Gundabad for.//
The rage of the battle drew Dorm's attention back to the present conflict, and he personally led the next charge, swinging his bloodied axe and yelling the dwarvish battle cry, "Baruk Khazâ d! Khazâ d aimê nu!" Across the chamber it echoed, carried up by the many voices of the dwarves, along with the constant chant, "Dorm, Dorm, Dorm!"
Stubbornly, perhaps, the lord of Gilthad pushed away the fear that at any moment they would be charged from behind and likely destroyed. It made little difference; he knew what they would do: they would either win this battle or they would die trying, but never retreat.
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Captain Naraka signaled another group of orcs forward. Yelling with pleasure, the dreadful army surged forward and locked in combat with the waiting dwarves, their lithe, sinewy bodies avoiding the sweeping blows of the heavy maces as their knifes and scimitars made deadly work amongst their opponents. Casually Naraka took toll. Three dwarves died in this lock and five orcs. At this rate logic would indicate that he was winning the battle, as the odds were about evenly two to one, but he knew that victory was not as assured as it had been before. Searing anger burned within him that the cursed dwarves had been lying in wait for them.
Anger especially because he could guess how they had been warned. The elf.
Naraka ground his sword into the midsection of an unprepared dwarf and in a sudden fit of rage he tore down three more with one blow. His eyes flashed like heat lightening, dry and deadly. The elf had been far more trouble than it was worth and if, he swore silently, he ever saw that miserable creature again he would have it's head before they parted.
Ripping out a dagger from below his cloak he gave into his own blood-lust and attacked in full force, locking in immediate combat with the dwarf beside him. The dwarf was young for their race and surprisingly quick, yet he hefted his great axe like it was nothing, and with a lusty battle cry brought it swinging level with Naraka's neck. The captain ducked easily, driving his dagger up and into the broad chest where the chain mail ended, and the dwarf fell forward, leaving Naraka to turn and take down the next.
Yes, he would see victory one way or another, and no one would keep that from him.
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Bonfur smiled with pleasure as the last of the orcs were cut down. The archers had done their work well and between his forces and the added help of Nowin's dwarves the enemy had been completely vanquished. A cry of triumph went up from the dwarves, and the archers were hailed with especial favor for their valiant attack.
"Now my friends!" Bonfur called over the tumult. "We will on to the other battles to see how our friends fare!"
A shout of agreement went up and Bonfur decided their course.
"My men and I will go to the aid of Thúril and assist in his battle. You, Nowin, and your archers, will on to assist Lord Dorm."
The victorious dwarves raised their axes or bows into the air and gave a shout.
"Long life to Bonfur! Long life to Dorm! Long life to the halls of Gilthad!" Bonfur gave the word and the dwarves split apart, leaving the carnage behind them. The many fallen companions lay between the dead orcs and men, but the dwarves would return — when it was all over they would return for the bodies of the fallen.
Right now, they had a battle to win.
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The clamor of the orcs gave a fair prior warning to their attack, but had the human and elf not fore-warned the dwarves they would not have had time to set up any manner of defense.
Even now however, Legolas saw how truly hopeless the situation was. He glanced desperately at his friend. The young ranger had his sword in his hands, and his arms swung back, placing his sword hilt parallel with his own shoulder. The human had disposed of his armor and was now clothed only in the garments he had worn in Gundabad, much less burdensome than the heavy breastplate had been, but no protection against a knife thrust from the orcs, or a stray arrow from the dwarves. Wishing desperately that his friend could get to safety, Legolas moved forward — they were running short on time, and knew he had to try now.
"Strider, please get away from here."
Aragorn threw his friend a slightly hurt and definitely incredulous look. "What?"
"I would not wish you to die here." Legolas replied having to raise his voice as the orcs' cries grew louder and the battle continued to rage just behind them.
"Nor I you," Aragorn returned shaking his head, "but Legolas, I will not leave you here for my own safety's sake, you should know that."
"Yes, but if we die here, Mirkwood will have no warning." The prince's words seemed to touch Aragorn, but the young man would not be separated from his friend a second time for anything. Tightly he gripped his sword hilt, preparing for the enemy coming upon them.
"That is why we must not die, my friend."
Legolas had no opportunity to speak further, as the enemy burst through the passage without a further moment's warning. The elf swiftly leased an arrow into the multitude of attackers and caught an orc through the skull. Aragorn bit deep into one who lunged too far forward, and a dwarf to his right cleaved the head from second, using the backcut of the same swing to slash the legs from beneath a third. Two more dead orcs later, the dwarf let out a cry as a flying knife caught him, and fell forward, dead, on the pile of enemies he had slain.
And on the battle continued.
TBC…