Disclaimer - only the blood stained Orcs we know and love are mine, that's
it.
A/N - sorry for the long delay, I know it's been 6 months or more since an update but the final year of university is unfortunately more important that Gorplak and Bagshash's troubles right now. Still, the conclusion to this tale draws nigh. I would recommend going back and reading the last chapter again to refresh it in your memories, and aid continuity.
Hankies at the ready? Then I'll begin...
Chapter 14 - Death and glory
"No. No, no no no no..." Bagshash muttered the denial like a litany, as though it would make the sight before him less true. The battle, the dead, the enemy were all forgotten in his mind; only one thing mattered now.
The same was unfortunately true of the dwarf, bearing down upon the oblivious Bagshash with only one goal in mind. Still roaring great battle cries in his own tongue, he made a great swing once with his axe, and it bit deep into the flesh of the Uruk-Hai.
Bagshash was hardly aware that he had been hit; it was only as his legs buckled beneath him, paralysed as the axe blow severed his spinal cord, and he fell to the ground that he barely noticed the figure of the dwarf around him. With legs that refused to obey him, he struggled on still, desperate to reach Gorplak, hand over hand to drag himself forward. But the dwarf was not done yet.
With a downward swing of the axe, the sharp steel embedded itself, cutting through flesh, muscle and bone, crashing through a shoulder blade, and Bagshash found himself unable to move once more. With a heavy sigh he fell, face to the ground.
The dwarf gave a satisfied grunt, and went to find more bloody work for himself and his weapon to do.
--------------
It hurt.
Oh, how it hurt. Each breath made Gorplak die a little more, and she recognised the fact. It hurt. With each exhalation of air, Gorplak could hear her own blood gurgling in her lungs, and she felt she was slowly drowning in it. She barely had the energy to cough it from her airways, each breath more a laboured sigh. With the last strength she could muster, she cried out as hard as she could. "Bagshash..."
--------------
It was the heartfelt cry that forced Bagshash to raise his head. The faint voice, once so full of pride, now so painfully quiet and forced. "Gorplak." He answered her, confused by a feeling of moisture on his cheeks, but determined once more to reach her. He stretched forward one hand, digging his claws into the earth and dragged his numb body forward. He tried the other hand but it was weak and useless where the dwarven axe had driven deep, so with his one good arm, hand by hand, inch by inch, he dragged himself to his beloved's side, oblivious to the dark streak of blood that marked his trail.
Around him the once ferocious band of Orcs now lay in ruins. Captain Gagnik was dead, as were the Lieutenants, only Ensign Grishnakh had made the sensible yet cowardly decision to run away, taking a few Orcs loyal to him. He had fled to safer ground, to join the heavy ranks of the Uruk-Hai, who now bore away their captives with glee. Nudlik, once so proud, now sat quite still, cradling his own innards and sighing gently for Vashlash, unaware that the loved one he sought lay not a few feet away, her body unrecognisable through a grim mask of blood and filth.
Still Bagshash struggled on, unheedingly the tattered remains around him, hearing only Gorplak as she gasped for air in what may each time be her last breath. Through her world masked by pain, and a darkness that gradually encroached upon her vision, her heavy and tired eyes saw Bagshash slowly approaching her side. The pain was lessening now, a slow, cold numbness had replaced the fiery, angry ache, and Gorplak used this relief to hold out a bloodstained hand to her love.
Her soft welcoming smile soon turned to a mild frown at the tears that Bagshash didn't even realise he was crying. She tried to lift her hand to wipe them from his face but her tired limb would not obey her and it fell with a quiet thud to the ground. She could only look on, saddened, her once proud archer's muscles now beyond use.
"Gorplak..." It was all Bagshash could say. He had seen the pale feathered arrow strike, he had endured the torment of seeing it lodged in his beloved body as he battled to reach her, but up close... it was so much worse. There was little blood from the wound, but the arrowhead was buried deep within her, puncturing her organs, Bagshash wondered how she had lived this long.
As still more silver tears poured from the orange globes of her lover, Gorplak vaguely recognised the dark liquid that flowed from Bagshash's shoulder. "You are hurt my love." She wheezed, each word little more than a groan.
"It is nothing." Bagshash said, stroking the gnarled hand that had been held out to him, and gently nuzzling her ebony hair, tangled with leaves and dirt.
"Bagshash..." She had to halt her words as a great desire to cough overcame her, and the upper half of her body convulsed at the effort, another trickle of dark blood escaping from her lips to ebb to the ground beneath her. Bagshash held her close, feeling every tremor that wracked her once proud body.
"Bagshash," She tried to speak again. "I'm dying..."
"No," He interrupted her. "After everything we have been through, I will not lose you now." Faint bruises that could have passed for shadows still marred her throat from their first meeting, the wounds inflicted by the monster Drusbruk had now healed enough to be only slight abrasions on her cheeks and forehead, and on a collar bone could just be seen a lovingly imprinted bite mark, testament to their love making. The marks on her body mapped their journey together, the highs and the lows, and to come through it all to fall now... Bagshash would not think of it. He smiled feebly to give hope that he did not feel. "You are an Archer; strong and brave, this will hardly trouble you."
Gorplak replied with a feeble shake of the head. "I am dying my love, but I want you to know..." Her words trailed off as she tired from the effort. Her eyes closed. Bagshash gripped harder on her hand and they opened again, and Gorplak tried to resume with renewed energy. "I love you. In a world of light and despair, you brought hope and darkness." Her eyes drifted for a moment. "Such darkness. Blacker than midnight." Another wheezing breath and she refocused on the wrinkled features of her love again. "Wherever death takes us, be it a dark underground, or the accursed Halls of Mandos, I will find you again."
Bagshash almost couldn't speak, his throat constricted by misery. "I love you. For now, for ever." He stroked her face. "Don't leave me Gorplak, I need you. You showed me what true darkness is, opened my eyes to things I've never felt before."
She barely seemed to hear him. "Such blackness." She mumbled, her eyelids drooping.
"I can't go on without you, come back to me!" Bagshash cried in desperation, feeling her limbs beginning to relax beneath him. He caressed her face with his lips, willing that his very touch would bring life back to her pale skin. "Come back to me." He whispered.
Gorplak's green eyes flared with a new colour, and Bagshash was filled with hope. "Join me soon, my darkest light." She breathed. Then the eyes that were so filled with life and emotion unfocused and were shut.
Silence.
Bagshash himself forgot to breathe as no more sound emerged from Gorplak's body. "No." He whispered. "No." But his words did nothing.
With a great howl, Bagshash lifted his head to the sky, and an unknown feeling entered his body. He gasped at the sharpness of it, clutching at his chest and dropping to the floor, falling across the body of his lover as, in his grief, his heart gave out and death took him willingly into arms that reached out for him, into an oblivion of darkness that would enfold the lovers forever.
A/N - sorry for the long delay, I know it's been 6 months or more since an update but the final year of university is unfortunately more important that Gorplak and Bagshash's troubles right now. Still, the conclusion to this tale draws nigh. I would recommend going back and reading the last chapter again to refresh it in your memories, and aid continuity.
Hankies at the ready? Then I'll begin...
Chapter 14 - Death and glory
"No. No, no no no no..." Bagshash muttered the denial like a litany, as though it would make the sight before him less true. The battle, the dead, the enemy were all forgotten in his mind; only one thing mattered now.
The same was unfortunately true of the dwarf, bearing down upon the oblivious Bagshash with only one goal in mind. Still roaring great battle cries in his own tongue, he made a great swing once with his axe, and it bit deep into the flesh of the Uruk-Hai.
Bagshash was hardly aware that he had been hit; it was only as his legs buckled beneath him, paralysed as the axe blow severed his spinal cord, and he fell to the ground that he barely noticed the figure of the dwarf around him. With legs that refused to obey him, he struggled on still, desperate to reach Gorplak, hand over hand to drag himself forward. But the dwarf was not done yet.
With a downward swing of the axe, the sharp steel embedded itself, cutting through flesh, muscle and bone, crashing through a shoulder blade, and Bagshash found himself unable to move once more. With a heavy sigh he fell, face to the ground.
The dwarf gave a satisfied grunt, and went to find more bloody work for himself and his weapon to do.
--------------
It hurt.
Oh, how it hurt. Each breath made Gorplak die a little more, and she recognised the fact. It hurt. With each exhalation of air, Gorplak could hear her own blood gurgling in her lungs, and she felt she was slowly drowning in it. She barely had the energy to cough it from her airways, each breath more a laboured sigh. With the last strength she could muster, she cried out as hard as she could. "Bagshash..."
--------------
It was the heartfelt cry that forced Bagshash to raise his head. The faint voice, once so full of pride, now so painfully quiet and forced. "Gorplak." He answered her, confused by a feeling of moisture on his cheeks, but determined once more to reach her. He stretched forward one hand, digging his claws into the earth and dragged his numb body forward. He tried the other hand but it was weak and useless where the dwarven axe had driven deep, so with his one good arm, hand by hand, inch by inch, he dragged himself to his beloved's side, oblivious to the dark streak of blood that marked his trail.
Around him the once ferocious band of Orcs now lay in ruins. Captain Gagnik was dead, as were the Lieutenants, only Ensign Grishnakh had made the sensible yet cowardly decision to run away, taking a few Orcs loyal to him. He had fled to safer ground, to join the heavy ranks of the Uruk-Hai, who now bore away their captives with glee. Nudlik, once so proud, now sat quite still, cradling his own innards and sighing gently for Vashlash, unaware that the loved one he sought lay not a few feet away, her body unrecognisable through a grim mask of blood and filth.
Still Bagshash struggled on, unheedingly the tattered remains around him, hearing only Gorplak as she gasped for air in what may each time be her last breath. Through her world masked by pain, and a darkness that gradually encroached upon her vision, her heavy and tired eyes saw Bagshash slowly approaching her side. The pain was lessening now, a slow, cold numbness had replaced the fiery, angry ache, and Gorplak used this relief to hold out a bloodstained hand to her love.
Her soft welcoming smile soon turned to a mild frown at the tears that Bagshash didn't even realise he was crying. She tried to lift her hand to wipe them from his face but her tired limb would not obey her and it fell with a quiet thud to the ground. She could only look on, saddened, her once proud archer's muscles now beyond use.
"Gorplak..." It was all Bagshash could say. He had seen the pale feathered arrow strike, he had endured the torment of seeing it lodged in his beloved body as he battled to reach her, but up close... it was so much worse. There was little blood from the wound, but the arrowhead was buried deep within her, puncturing her organs, Bagshash wondered how she had lived this long.
As still more silver tears poured from the orange globes of her lover, Gorplak vaguely recognised the dark liquid that flowed from Bagshash's shoulder. "You are hurt my love." She wheezed, each word little more than a groan.
"It is nothing." Bagshash said, stroking the gnarled hand that had been held out to him, and gently nuzzling her ebony hair, tangled with leaves and dirt.
"Bagshash..." She had to halt her words as a great desire to cough overcame her, and the upper half of her body convulsed at the effort, another trickle of dark blood escaping from her lips to ebb to the ground beneath her. Bagshash held her close, feeling every tremor that wracked her once proud body.
"Bagshash," She tried to speak again. "I'm dying..."
"No," He interrupted her. "After everything we have been through, I will not lose you now." Faint bruises that could have passed for shadows still marred her throat from their first meeting, the wounds inflicted by the monster Drusbruk had now healed enough to be only slight abrasions on her cheeks and forehead, and on a collar bone could just be seen a lovingly imprinted bite mark, testament to their love making. The marks on her body mapped their journey together, the highs and the lows, and to come through it all to fall now... Bagshash would not think of it. He smiled feebly to give hope that he did not feel. "You are an Archer; strong and brave, this will hardly trouble you."
Gorplak replied with a feeble shake of the head. "I am dying my love, but I want you to know..." Her words trailed off as she tired from the effort. Her eyes closed. Bagshash gripped harder on her hand and they opened again, and Gorplak tried to resume with renewed energy. "I love you. In a world of light and despair, you brought hope and darkness." Her eyes drifted for a moment. "Such darkness. Blacker than midnight." Another wheezing breath and she refocused on the wrinkled features of her love again. "Wherever death takes us, be it a dark underground, or the accursed Halls of Mandos, I will find you again."
Bagshash almost couldn't speak, his throat constricted by misery. "I love you. For now, for ever." He stroked her face. "Don't leave me Gorplak, I need you. You showed me what true darkness is, opened my eyes to things I've never felt before."
She barely seemed to hear him. "Such blackness." She mumbled, her eyelids drooping.
"I can't go on without you, come back to me!" Bagshash cried in desperation, feeling her limbs beginning to relax beneath him. He caressed her face with his lips, willing that his very touch would bring life back to her pale skin. "Come back to me." He whispered.
Gorplak's green eyes flared with a new colour, and Bagshash was filled with hope. "Join me soon, my darkest light." She breathed. Then the eyes that were so filled with life and emotion unfocused and were shut.
Silence.
Bagshash himself forgot to breathe as no more sound emerged from Gorplak's body. "No." He whispered. "No." But his words did nothing.
With a great howl, Bagshash lifted his head to the sky, and an unknown feeling entered his body. He gasped at the sharpness of it, clutching at his chest and dropping to the floor, falling across the body of his lover as, in his grief, his heart gave out and death took him willingly into arms that reached out for him, into an oblivion of darkness that would enfold the lovers forever.
