Disclaimer: Trust me, I'm not intelligent enough to come up with more than a few phrases in my own language, let alone an entire language, and if Elvish isn't mine and the elves are the Firstborn of Iluvatar, it follows that . . . if I really have to say it I'll be depressed . . .
AN: For those of you reading my 'Pirates' fic, I'm not abandoning it, I'm just seeing if this would actually form itself into a viable story, which I somehow doubt, but then again, my life at the moment doesn't leave me very much room for hope. In my previous fic I realize that I misspelled Tolkien, which is highly embarrassing but not unexpected as I've never been good with 'ei' and 'ie', it was midnight when I started writing it, and my books were upstairs in my brother's room (I'm letting him read them) so I couldn't even use them for reference. Yeah. This would be a real fic if I decide to continue it, which is a big 'if' at the moment, and this would be AU, though it starts at Helm's Deep as it was in the book, as I haven't come up with a good before-the-WotR or after-the-WotR fic, though I'm working on it. This will be better when I'm not writing it at midnight, and the next chapter might be interesting. Also, the different levels of elves confuse me greatly, and I'm trying to make my way through 'Silmarillon', but I also have to read 'Anna Karenina', 'Genome', and 'A Pale Blue Dot' for school, so it's slow going. If anyone could give me a simple synopsis that makes sense I'd be grateful.
Tainted Hope
Part 1
The orc stood before Saruman, alternating between cringing in fear and glowing with pride that he should be chosen, should be called before his lord and granted the special task.
"There is a Man who will be at Helm's Deep, a very special man, a Numenorean, and he will wield the Sword of Kings, though he is not the king . . .not yet, more than likely not ever. You are to find this man, and you are to attack him."
The orc bared its teeth and hissed. Manflesh was good; to be rewarded for taking manflesh was even better. Saruman handed him a dagger, sheathed.
"You are to use this, and you are to stab him, anywhere you can, any way that you can. There is only one rule—you may not kill him with this. Is that understood?"
The orc stared at Saruman dumbly. He was to attack the man, but not kill him? How would that be helpful?
"I do not care if you understand why, do you understand what you are to do?"
The orc stepped back, fearful of it's master's wrath, nodding quickly and gibbering yes.
"Good. You are dismissed. Return to your unit."
The orc complied quickly, sparing only a last glance back at Saruman. Saruman waited patiently until he was gone before turning to his goblin servant.
"Send for another one."
He would take no chances. If the upstart heir of Isildur died in battle, then Gondor would fall quickly and simply. If he did not, then Saruman was taking no chances.
He almost hoped the man would find a way to survive. It would make things so very, very interesting . . .
* * *
"Elendil, Elendil!" Legolas watched in trepidation as the heir of Isildur leapt from their place of momentary rest and into the breach that had just been created by the wizardry of Saruman. Even as the Numenorean rushed to aid in the closing as the breach, ladders rushed forward again, and the defenders were driven back further and further, some of the Rohirrim making a last effort to reach the caves, others rushing the stairs and the Hornburg.
The elf watched as Aragorn set himself as a guard, Anduril flaring in his hands, taking down any enemy that would dare to move too close, the retreating Riders poring past him and into the relative safety of the Hornburg. Legolas wished to fight as well, to drive the orcs screaming back to Isengard, but he had only one arrow left, and only one purpose that he would use it for—to protect Isildur's heir.
Finally the stream of retreating warriors slowed to a trickle, until finally Aragorn faced only a sea of orcs.
"All who can have now got safe within, Aragorn! Come back!" The ranger spared a glance upward, nodded, swept the sword of kings around in an arc to drive back the orcs that had come too close, and turned to race up the stairs. Even as he approached safety, his weariness betrayed him, and the Man stumbled and fell to one knee on the stairs.
The orcs screamed in a cacophony of blood-lust, rushing forward en masse. The closest to the Ranger fell, an elven arrow through his throat, and Legolas cursed in elvish. An archer, no matter how good, could not help without any arrows. If only he had a quiver that would never run out of arrows . . .
A second orc was within range of Aragorn now. The Numenorean turned, raising Anduril with weary arms to counter the blow, only to feel a flare of pain in his leg as a rumble sounded. One orc met its fate on Anduril's hard steel as its companions were swept back down the stairwell, crushed and broken.
Aragorn ripped the small dagger from the back of his left leg and hurled in into the throat of another orc as he finished his retreat up the stairs. He quickly found himself supported by elven hands.
"Aragorn! Are you well?"
"As well as I can be. Things go ill, my friend." He swept his arm across his face, dispelling the sweat and hoping to dispel part of the weariness with it. He was surprised to find that his leg didn't hurt very much at all. In fact, he could walk comfortably without really limping.
The elf pulled back, apparently satisfied with the answer. "Ill enough, but not yet hopeless, while we have you with us." The elf spared a quick glance around. "Where is Gimli?"
"I do not know. I last saw him fighting the enemy no the ground behind the wall, but the enemy swept us apart."
"That is evil news."
"Don't worry. He is stout and strong . . .and if he reaches the caves, he will far surpass your total." The elf smiled slightly, though his eyes were still troubled. "Come. Let us see to our own defense."
Man and elf continued further into the Hornburg, intent on keeping the citadel intact despite the might of the invaders, and Aragorn gave no thought to the stab wound in his leg, an injury that was healing remarkably quickly even given his Numenorean blood.
