It was sometime after midnight. Glorí whipped around her head to face the noise steadily coming closer. In the dark she could just barely make out the shape of hunched orcs as they passed below her. Six in all, though she could hear more moving slightly removed.
When their sounds died down she crept from branch to branch until her feet touched solid ground. As quick as lightning and as silent as the night she took off for the camp. The voices of three orcs loomed in front of her just before their faces appeared in the dim moonlight.
She stopped abruptly and grasped her tunic just in front of her heart, the organ attempting to remove itself from her chest. She could feel the blood pounding in her temples and her breath would have come in short shallow gasps had she not held her breath.
Gathering her senses she easily rounded them and continued her way forward. When she stepped into the dim clearing she could see the outline of the sleeping elves. At once the three other scouts entered the group as one and stared at her before they realized it was she. At the same time they each dived at the closest sleeping elf and woke them silently, instructing them to grab their things within reach and leave the rest.
Finally she came upon Gil-galad sleeping peacefully under an oak tree. She placed her hand over his mouth with one hand and shook his shoulder with the other. He woke with a start and began to claw wildly at her hand.
"Shh! Orcs, get your things around you and leave the rest. Get a weapon and get ready. They will be upon us soon." She whispered into his ear. He locked eyes with her and she saw the understanding in them. She moved away quickly as he began to rise.
Quietly and quickly she left the glade and groped her way in the dark towards the horses. They had been released to graze in a nearby field. She swept through the orcs, which were trying desperately to seal a circle around the camp. Once clear from them and some hundred paces away she made a mad sprint to the field.
Theo lay half-asleep under a tree near the edge and looked up as she entered. Glorí let out a shrill whistle and the horses immediately started from their motionless rest and crowded around her. Theo came too, confusion written clear across his muzzle, his head tilted to one side in question.
"Yrch." She lapsed into the elven tongue she was so accustomed to, a dark scowl leaping upon her face. She then jumped up on the back of her stallion and tore back towards the clearing the others in tow. She checked the horses to a slow walk before stopping them less than fifteen yards from the circle of orcs.
As she dismounted a shrill cry went up into the night signaling the commence of the attack. She took up her bow and let a hail of arrows fly. The seven arrows found their mark, but other orcs quickly filled in the gap they left. The sound of metal on metal told that the elves were fighting back with full force.
She dropped her bow; arrows spent, and drew her sword, making a break to the right as a small group of orcs made towards her.
"The horses! Get to the horses!" She screamed as she turned to meet the oncoming orcs. Behind the five creatures she could hear the horses wickering and prancing uneasily. The first orc came, sword raised and aimed to take her head from her shoulders. She parried it easily and plunged her blade deep within his stomach, the metal passing through his body as a knife through butter.
She kicked the remains off her sword and turned to face the next attack. After she parried the first stroke he raised his blade again as another came from behind him and made a strike towards her middle. Both blades came as one. She stopped the one above her head and jumped backwards at the same time.
The blade scratched at her armor but came no closer. With one fierce swipe she took both of their heads off at once, the bodies falling entangled to the forest floor.
While she had been occupied the other two had come around her and now attacked from behind. Glorí whirled and caught the first blade but the second slashed through her sleeve to find flesh, cutting through to the bone. She cried in pain but did not forget her place, she didn't even stagger at the pain, but instead found the void her father had always told her about as a child.
"Push everything deep down, into your stomach. Don't pay attention to anything but the fight. Pain, anger, love, hate… push it down and release it as strength of your body. Keep your mind clear…"
Her fathers' words sang to her and she found the emptiness she sought. Before she knew it the abominations were slain. Gripping her arm tightly with the opposing arm she made her way stealthily back towards the camp.
The elves were fast in the slaughter, the orcs piling high. Most of the elves were making their way towards the horses, the rest acting as rear-guard of their retreat. Seeing that the elves were winning she smiled and whistled for her own horse, the spotted stallion running beside her. She grabbed at his mane and pulled herself onto him with her good arm, the other loosely gripping her sword. She waited until the others were mounted and spurring their horses before she too retreated. She fell in behind the rest, continuously glancing back over her shoulder to make sure they were not being followed.
They continued on in fearful silence until the sun was well above the horizon. Then they stopped near a small stream running through the woods. The group dismounted and tied off their horses, taking their water skins to the edge to be filled.
Glorí was going to follow suit until the pain she had ignored in her arm came on in the full force of a hundred knives. She doubled over, clutching her wrist as she tried to take her senses away from the deep wound on her upper arm.
Gaining control once more she straightened to find Glorfindel standing over her, a worried expression plastered across his fair features.
"You are injured," He stated as he pushed down on her shoulders, indicating for her to sit. She complied but protested. "It is not that bad. Merely a scratch." She flinched when his fingers gently prodded the wound.
The elf scowled at her, "'Tis sliced to the bone." He took his water skin he had been carrying and a clean cloth from his pocket. Then he gingerly ripped the blood soaked cloth surrounding the wound so he could better access thecut. After rinsing the skin he bound it tightly with the makeshift bandage.
"That should hold until we reach Imladris. Master Elrond will care for it better." He was drawing away his hands but she reached quickly and grasped one in her hand.
"Master Elrond?" Glorfindel looked taken aback. Glorí was sure he was silently abashing himself for his mistake. He nodded slowly, his eyes looking around as if to find another.
"Do not worry overly much. I had already suspected." He smiled ruefully before standing to seek Gil-galad.
She watched as they put their heads together and whispered back and forth. She saw Gil-galad's eyes become stern though not necessarily angry when they glanced at her. It was at that point she figured she had better get her water and mount. She really did not want to be confronted.
Within minutes she was safely back on her horse. She held her injured arm close to her ribs; the other entangled tightly in her horses' mane. She waited for the signal from Gil-galad and after a quick glance in her direction it came.
They rode hard for the next two days, riding through the night, stopping only three times a day. The foreign elves seemed to wonder at the resiliency the horses had, being able to run many miles for only twenty minutes of rest.
Glorí noticed as the others around her drew up from their position, lifting themselves to peer ahead. Suddenly a call came from ahead.
"There it is! The ford!" Similar cries followed, then a loud cry full of happiness and extinguished longing overrode them all. She didn't know what they were talking about but she figured they were there, or at least close.
Suddenly she saw a river ahead. They pressed forward and across the ford. The others urged their mount even faster, Glorfindel leading, a broad smile on his face. Glorí found herself falling behind, where she wanted to be. She let the anxious elves move past her before spurring the mare to catch up to them but not pass.