Chapter Eight: Until Dawn (Or: The Sap Chapter)
"I still can't believe you risked your life because I was a little winded."
Amy looked down at Azrat, who was lying on the ground with his hands behind his head, his eyes closed.
He cracked an eye open and gave her a cocky grin. "Of course I did. If I didn't, I'd have had to get firewood myself, and why would I want to do that after I've been running all day?"
She smiled and laughed a bit. "Sure, sure, that's what it was. Purely selfish reasons."
"That's right. Now, let me sleep a bit. You were heavy," he said, closing his eyes again, the smug expression still on his face. She felt a smile tugging at her lips; he looked exactly like her brother (well…maybe not exactly. Her brother didn't run around with a broadsword), relaxing in the sun on a Saturday afternoon. A twinge inside her chest wiped the smile off of her face, and she turned to the small fire they had lit, a little bit away from the rest of the orcs, and added a few more bits of sticks and dried grass. The fire ate them up greedily and sent its flames jumping high into the air, silently thanking her for her consideration.
She sat down next to the small fire and placed her hands as close to the flames as she could without risking burns. Sighing happily, she rubbed her hands on her arms once they were warm, spreading warmth through her body, driving the chill of the cold night air away.
She watched the fire burn merrily. A log resettled with a crack and a pop; an outburst resonated not far away in the orc camp. Behind her, lurking in the shadows, the soldiers on horses remained, though she had not seen or heard anything from them for at least an hour. Her eyes felt heavy; it must have been at least midnight.
At the thought of the time, a tremor shook through her body and left her feeling sick at heart. She recalled something she had heard the troops saying earlier: "They'll wait until dawn."
Poking the fire with a stick, she tried to concentrate on something positive, and not on her impending death. She looked to the sky, hoping the stars would offer her some comfort, but the sky was cast over with thick, fluffy clouds; not even the glow of the moon was visible.
Amy sighed, settled down in the grass beside Azrat, and looked up at his face. The fire cast long shadows up the sides of his face; his high cheekbones were bathed in orange light. His protruding teeth shone in the bright light and glistened threateningly. She shivered as she looked at his face and tried not to think about how similar her own face looked to his.
"Choo!" Amy grimaced in disgust as she wiped her nose and shivered involuntarily. "Bleah. I think I'm getting a cold out here, dammit. I wanna go hooooome, where we have heating when it gets cold and warm sunshine and soft blankets and hot drinks…"
"Gûsbálk?" Azrat asked, cracking an eyelid open slightly. "Who are you talking to?"
"Myself," Amy said sulkily. "Shouldn't you be sleeping? I thought I was sooooo hard to carry, after all, Mr. 'Oh-I-can't-get-firewood-I-was-too-busy-saving-YOUR-life!'"
Azrat laughed—a harsh, barking sound—and Amy felt her cheeks burn. "Shut up!" she snapped, turning towards him and throwing a twig at him. "You don't know what I've been going through!"
He smiled at her in a strange way, like a parent amused by the flippant peeves of a child, and scratched his ear. "Is that what you think? How odd; I could have sworn I was running beside you all day, after all. By the White Hand! I thought I would be able to remember if I had done something different. I think my mind must be going already."
"Jerk," she muttered, looking into the fire. "Jerk, jerk, jerk…"
A pair of strong arms wrapped around her shoulders gently, and Azrat said in her ear, "Now, that's no way to show someone thanks, is it?"
"No," she sighed, her heart speeding up from an emotion—fear, or tension, or embarrassment: she couldn't tell which. "So…"
"Yes?"
"So…thanks."
He gave her shoulders a small squeeze before letting go. "I will always be there if you need me. Never think otherwise." With that, he turned and laid down on the grass again, his eyes turned towards the cloudy sky.
"Are we going to die?"
He didn't look at her.
"Azrat."
"Yes. The Whiteskins have surrounded us on all sides. They'll attack when the blasted sun rises. Yes, we are going to die."
"How…good at fighting are they?"
"Their archers can fire a lethal shot from the back of a horse at full gallop from over a hundred paces away—or so I've been told; no one has actually had the chance to prove that. Their spears can punch through armor, and their swords can splinted your shield as if it was made of glass. Their horses are fast and strong, and they'll trample you without a second thought. They're monsters."
Amy felt her eyes stinging. "I don't want to die, Azrat. I don't, I don't…"
"Who does?"
In spite of herself, Amy began to weep in fear. It actually would have been quite amusing to any bystanders to see an orc crying, but Azrat felt his heart, which had always been softer than most of his kinsmen's, breaking at the sight of someone so young and helpless losing the last of her hope, with the help of his own pitiless words.
In the name of…Azrat, you fool, you knew she wasn't stable enough to hear the truth. Why did you say those things? he berated himself as he stood up again and walked over to Amy, who was now hiccoughing into her hands. Lieutenant always said to just spit it out, that there was no point in avoiding the truth…that stupid old fool…
"I don't want to die, Azrat," she choked out as he knelt down next to her and rubbed her shoulder in a comforting gesture. "I want to live. There's still so much for me to live for. I have…I have a family, and friends; I've got a home I want to go back to, if I ever make it out of this nightmare alive…"
He wrapped his arms around her shoulders again, crushing her slightly in his powerful embrace, but taking care not to hurt her. "What else can I say? Did you think it wouldn't come to this? Why did you join with the Hand if you feared to die?"
Amy coughed loudly and violently. "I-I never did! Azrat, I w-wasn't meant to be here! I don't belong in this p-place! I never j-joined the Hand; I was just lost and wandering when you f-found me, with no idea where I was, or what I was, or what to d-do!" she sobbed into his arm.
He looked at her. "You were never sworn to the Hand anyway? Why didn't you say anything?"
She shook her head. "Who would have believed m-me?"
"I would have."
And what would you have done? she thought bitterly.
She laid her head against his chest, wiping her tears off her face to the best of her ability. "How long until dawn?"
"A few hours."
"I need…I mean, is it alright if I sleep? I feel so tired I could…" Before she finished her sentence, her head was lolling against Azrat's chest; she was fast asleep.
He laid her down on the grass near the fire and sat down beside her. "Of course you may sleep, Grûsbálk," he said, placing his hand over hers, "and don't worry about what tomorrow brings. Whatever comes, we can't stop it now; we must face it, and we will."
Amy stretched her neck slightly in her sleep, murmuring something incomprehensible, as she fell into a dark, dreamless sleep, the last one she would have in Middle-earth. Azrat stood beside her until she awoke, his eyes fixed at the impenetrable dark, behind which Death awaited, clad in mail with spears.
Coming Up: Dawn.
A/N: ;_; I'm so, so, so sorry this chapter took as long as it did. I'm a horrible, horrible person and I deserve to have my knuckles slapped with metal rulers until I bleed profusely. My lack of motivation must have had something to do with the fact that I actually had to think up my own plot for this chapter. ^^; Laziness one, Simmí zero. Sorry this chapter sucks; the next one should be better, and should hopefully have some of that comedy I promised in the summary (I was wondering where it had run off to, too), along with some action and Men on horses. Yay! Anyway, thanks for your time, patience, and for sticking with "I, Grûsbálk" for so long! *hugs* I don't deserve such fans. And fans review authors they love, riiiiiiiight? *wink wink nudge nudge*
~Simmí