Sorry for the long update! Really, I have had very little free time as of
late, and most of my free time has been spent on my stories, so please
don't get mad at me! I busy nearly every night now, weekends included, I am
trying my best. Really!
Only a few chapters left to go, hope you enjoy.
Carrie-
!Gracious Mi Amiga!
I haven't lost my touch yet, as you will find out in this chapter, all I can say and no more.
Looking forward to seeing chapter five from you!
Kia-
Good questions, good questions, but you will find out about the future cliff hangers in this chapter
Dragon-
Well Ro's whistle wasn't in his pocket, the string got tangled somewhere on his clothes and fell off when he moved like that. Sorry for the confusion.
Goblz-
Thank you for the nice comment, as for future cliffies. . .heheheh. . . you'll see
Chapter Nine
The night sky stretched out across the forest, crisp and clear, free from clouds. But even though no haze was present, there was no moon, casting the night into an unsettling darkness. Whispers of wind traveled through the air, barely causing the thin branches of the trees to sway. An owl hooted in the darkness, it's eerie voice echoing throughout the woodland.
The freshly fallen snow held a glossy surface, disturbed here and there where a rabbit or other animal had crossed. The weather was capable of shifting quickly, and had been so for the last few hours. As clear as the sky was now, clouds could easily cover the bright stars within moments.
Elrond knew that with a heavy heart as he walked with a quickened pace towards Rivendell. Elrohir shivered in his grasp, yawning lightly as he clung onto his sleeve. He was too weak to support himself and he let his weight fall against Elrond's chest. Elladan was snuggled on his other side, arms wrapped around the older Elf's neck, gazing at the sky above. Every once in a while his eyes dropped down to check on his twin, who was on the verge of falling asleep.
Elrond's constant whispers was the only thing that urged the young Elf to remain awake. It was not that the Elf Lord worried about losing his youngest son, even as tired as Elrohir was he still had strength in him. Enough that he would recover within a few days with proper rest and care. The reason that Elrond wished he remained awake was the fact it made him feel less worried.
The hill before them began to ascend, and Elrond smiled to himself for he knew that Rivendell was close. They would reach the house by morning if all went well. He shifted Elrohir in his grasp so that the young Elf's weight was centered on his chest instead of his arm.
Elrond's stride halted as repulsive shrieks filled the night air. In his grasp Elladan gasped fearfully as he tightened his arms around his father's neck. Even Elrohir's eyes grew wide as he recognized the foul cries, and buried his head into Elrond's robe.
Elrond's eyes narrowed as he peered into the darkness, listening with keen ears, praying that he had mistaken the source of the cries. But they came again, louder this time as the creatures neared, and Elrond tightened his grip around his son's protectively.
"Orcs," he whispered softly, though he needn't say anything at all, for all though his sons had not encountered Orcs before, they had heard their galling cries plenty of times when they were off camping, or hiking in the further wood.
Elrond knew in his heart that the Orcs were close, and it angered him that the foul beasts would even dare to venture this close to an Elven village. But Elrond was far more worried about their safety. He let his gaze scan the terrain before him. They still had a few hours of travel ahead of them, would they be able to out run them?
He pondered over his thought, his ears open, listening intently for the cries that seemed to be coming closer each moment. A small voice brought his thoughts outward as Elladan tapped on his shoulder.
"Atar, they are getting close," he spoke softly, as if afraid he would lead the beasts to them. Elrond nodded in agreement.
"That they are young one, quick, in the trees, we must hide," Elrond decided suddenly.
He helped Elladan onto his shoulders, holding Elrohir carefully with his free hand. With a nimble leap, Elladan grasped onto a low branch, swinging himself up. Elrond made sure his eldest son was safely up a ways before preparing to jump himself.
But the shrieking of the cries grew suddenly closer and Elrond cursed at himself for misjudging their position. His keen Elven eyes caught the large silhouettes of the Orcs as the moved among the trees. Elrond turned his head upward, locking eyes with Elladan's fearful ones, mouthing for him to remain hidden.
Moments before the foul creatures passed, Elrond slipped behind the tree, holding Elrohir close to him, hushing his soft whimpers with silent motion of his hand.
Elrohir grasped his father's fingers, the iciness of his flesh seeping through the thin cloth of his gloves. Elrond wrapped his own hand around the small palm, offering whatever warmth he could. The shouts of the Orcs were now so close, the pounding of the heavy toed boots stomped unmercifully on the snow covered ground, the heavy breathing reached the Older Elf's ears.
He listened closely as they slowed to a halt, and all was quiet for a moment, but through the darkness came the sounds of sniffing, and slow, unsteady movements of the Orcs.
"What is it?" one suddenly spoke, obviously irritated that they had come to a stop.
"I smell Elves," replied a gruff voice a moment later.
Elrohir cringed in his arms and Elrond comforted him as he closed his eyes. The Elf Lord had feared this. He let his hand drop, coming to a rest on the but of his sword, running his fingers over the string of his bow. There was no possible way to use his arrows, a sword perhaps, but combat would be difficult with Elrohir in his arms. He feared of putting his youngest son down, Elrohir was weak, and would not be able to defend himself, and there was no where to hide him safely. Elladan was safe in the tree above, and he prayed that his eldest son would remain hidden.
The first Orc spoke again, bringing Elrond back to the present condition.
"We're near Rivendell, these woods are always lingering with their scent!" he cried in furry, "Move out!"
"No!" the second voice interrupted. "The scent is fresh. There are Elves about, I can sense it."
"Then let us find them!" another cried and a clamorous roar rose among the foul beasts.
"You go looking for an Elf and you'll be dead!"
An angry cry rose among the group, followed by a cheer as a body hit the ground. Elrond's keen ears picked up the sounds of scuffle in the snow, as metal clashed with metal. Elrohir let out a whimper as he burrowed deeper into his father's robe.
"What was that?"
The scuffle had immediately ceased, as did the capricious cheers and hoots from the crowd as the whole group listened intently. Elrond's heart skipped a beat as he pressed a hand against Elrohir's head, willing him silently not to make another sound.
*****
The two Orcs that had been fighting were now on their feet, Rugurtz and Cloyin searched through the darkness. Rugurtz laid a hand on the tree near him, his claws digging into the bark as he continued to sniff the air.
Cloyin was right, the smell was indeed stronger than it should be. Though he would never admit to being wrong out loud. Hearing a slight sound he jerked his head upward, locking onto a smaller pair of eyes watching him from above.
TBC. . .
Only a few chapters left to go, hope you enjoy.
Carrie-
!Gracious Mi Amiga!
I haven't lost my touch yet, as you will find out in this chapter, all I can say and no more.
Looking forward to seeing chapter five from you!
Kia-
Good questions, good questions, but you will find out about the future cliff hangers in this chapter
Dragon-
Well Ro's whistle wasn't in his pocket, the string got tangled somewhere on his clothes and fell off when he moved like that. Sorry for the confusion.
Goblz-
Thank you for the nice comment, as for future cliffies. . .heheheh. . . you'll see
Chapter Nine
The night sky stretched out across the forest, crisp and clear, free from clouds. But even though no haze was present, there was no moon, casting the night into an unsettling darkness. Whispers of wind traveled through the air, barely causing the thin branches of the trees to sway. An owl hooted in the darkness, it's eerie voice echoing throughout the woodland.
The freshly fallen snow held a glossy surface, disturbed here and there where a rabbit or other animal had crossed. The weather was capable of shifting quickly, and had been so for the last few hours. As clear as the sky was now, clouds could easily cover the bright stars within moments.
Elrond knew that with a heavy heart as he walked with a quickened pace towards Rivendell. Elrohir shivered in his grasp, yawning lightly as he clung onto his sleeve. He was too weak to support himself and he let his weight fall against Elrond's chest. Elladan was snuggled on his other side, arms wrapped around the older Elf's neck, gazing at the sky above. Every once in a while his eyes dropped down to check on his twin, who was on the verge of falling asleep.
Elrond's constant whispers was the only thing that urged the young Elf to remain awake. It was not that the Elf Lord worried about losing his youngest son, even as tired as Elrohir was he still had strength in him. Enough that he would recover within a few days with proper rest and care. The reason that Elrond wished he remained awake was the fact it made him feel less worried.
The hill before them began to ascend, and Elrond smiled to himself for he knew that Rivendell was close. They would reach the house by morning if all went well. He shifted Elrohir in his grasp so that the young Elf's weight was centered on his chest instead of his arm.
Elrond's stride halted as repulsive shrieks filled the night air. In his grasp Elladan gasped fearfully as he tightened his arms around his father's neck. Even Elrohir's eyes grew wide as he recognized the foul cries, and buried his head into Elrond's robe.
Elrond's eyes narrowed as he peered into the darkness, listening with keen ears, praying that he had mistaken the source of the cries. But they came again, louder this time as the creatures neared, and Elrond tightened his grip around his son's protectively.
"Orcs," he whispered softly, though he needn't say anything at all, for all though his sons had not encountered Orcs before, they had heard their galling cries plenty of times when they were off camping, or hiking in the further wood.
Elrond knew in his heart that the Orcs were close, and it angered him that the foul beasts would even dare to venture this close to an Elven village. But Elrond was far more worried about their safety. He let his gaze scan the terrain before him. They still had a few hours of travel ahead of them, would they be able to out run them?
He pondered over his thought, his ears open, listening intently for the cries that seemed to be coming closer each moment. A small voice brought his thoughts outward as Elladan tapped on his shoulder.
"Atar, they are getting close," he spoke softly, as if afraid he would lead the beasts to them. Elrond nodded in agreement.
"That they are young one, quick, in the trees, we must hide," Elrond decided suddenly.
He helped Elladan onto his shoulders, holding Elrohir carefully with his free hand. With a nimble leap, Elladan grasped onto a low branch, swinging himself up. Elrond made sure his eldest son was safely up a ways before preparing to jump himself.
But the shrieking of the cries grew suddenly closer and Elrond cursed at himself for misjudging their position. His keen Elven eyes caught the large silhouettes of the Orcs as the moved among the trees. Elrond turned his head upward, locking eyes with Elladan's fearful ones, mouthing for him to remain hidden.
Moments before the foul creatures passed, Elrond slipped behind the tree, holding Elrohir close to him, hushing his soft whimpers with silent motion of his hand.
Elrohir grasped his father's fingers, the iciness of his flesh seeping through the thin cloth of his gloves. Elrond wrapped his own hand around the small palm, offering whatever warmth he could. The shouts of the Orcs were now so close, the pounding of the heavy toed boots stomped unmercifully on the snow covered ground, the heavy breathing reached the Older Elf's ears.
He listened closely as they slowed to a halt, and all was quiet for a moment, but through the darkness came the sounds of sniffing, and slow, unsteady movements of the Orcs.
"What is it?" one suddenly spoke, obviously irritated that they had come to a stop.
"I smell Elves," replied a gruff voice a moment later.
Elrohir cringed in his arms and Elrond comforted him as he closed his eyes. The Elf Lord had feared this. He let his hand drop, coming to a rest on the but of his sword, running his fingers over the string of his bow. There was no possible way to use his arrows, a sword perhaps, but combat would be difficult with Elrohir in his arms. He feared of putting his youngest son down, Elrohir was weak, and would not be able to defend himself, and there was no where to hide him safely. Elladan was safe in the tree above, and he prayed that his eldest son would remain hidden.
The first Orc spoke again, bringing Elrond back to the present condition.
"We're near Rivendell, these woods are always lingering with their scent!" he cried in furry, "Move out!"
"No!" the second voice interrupted. "The scent is fresh. There are Elves about, I can sense it."
"Then let us find them!" another cried and a clamorous roar rose among the foul beasts.
"You go looking for an Elf and you'll be dead!"
An angry cry rose among the group, followed by a cheer as a body hit the ground. Elrond's keen ears picked up the sounds of scuffle in the snow, as metal clashed with metal. Elrohir let out a whimper as he burrowed deeper into his father's robe.
"What was that?"
The scuffle had immediately ceased, as did the capricious cheers and hoots from the crowd as the whole group listened intently. Elrond's heart skipped a beat as he pressed a hand against Elrohir's head, willing him silently not to make another sound.
*****
The two Orcs that had been fighting were now on their feet, Rugurtz and Cloyin searched through the darkness. Rugurtz laid a hand on the tree near him, his claws digging into the bark as he continued to sniff the air.
Cloyin was right, the smell was indeed stronger than it should be. Though he would never admit to being wrong out loud. Hearing a slight sound he jerked his head upward, locking onto a smaller pair of eyes watching him from above.
TBC. . .
