An Elf-rider lifted his head as a faint cry touched his ears. His
brow furrowed as he peered into the darkness, his keen vision parting
through the trees to see a band of mounted Orcs galloping away from the
camp. One of them carried Ifran in front of him.
He leaped up and hurried over to Legolas and Aragorn, who were sitting side by side. Dropping to his knees, he told them what he had seen and heard. Legolas jumped up at the news, glaring down at the Elf-rider.
"You are sure?" he asked tensely.
The Elf-rider nodded with raised brows. "Yes. They are riding that way," he pointed.
Aragorn and Legolas roused the others, but one of them, their leader, Erithod, stood and protested,
"If what Haimelstir saw is true, then we are outnumbered, far outnumbered. We cannot possibly have any hopes of winning this battle!"
Legolas strode over to him, his clear blue eyes blazing fury. "We cannot leave Ifran to endure torture and death! Not as long as breath still dwells within us! By not attempting to rescue her, we have already killed her!"
Erithod, however, stood firmly to his opposition. Many were beginning to agree with him, and soon Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli were alone in their side. Finally, after much debate, Legolas erupted.
"ENOUGH! We have wasted too much time as it is!" He leaped onto Quasar and galloped off, Aragorn and Gimli mounting Hasufed to follow. Erithod was stunned. He did not think Legolas would do that, nor Aragorn. His heart was moved as he turned and faced his comrades.
"I was in the wrong! Mount your horses! Tonight, we hunt Orcs!"
Legolas was already galloping furiously after the Orc band by the time Hasufed caught up with him. Hearing his hoof beats beside him, Legolas glanced over and gave a reassuring smile and nod of thanks and recognition. They swept around a bend in the trail and hurried on.
Hearing more hoof beats behind, Legolas turned and looked back. Erithod and the rest of the Elf-riders had just come around the same bend and now followed the blonde Elf. Overjoyed, Legolas spurred Quasar on to full throttle, and the bay took off with a speed that no horse of man or Elf could match. His strides were long and fluid, and his black mane and tail streamed freely in the wind. As the company rode into the night, Legolas was sure they would find Ifran in time.
At the same time, Ifran was sleeping fitfully on the hard ground of the Orc camp. While all was still, one Orc approached her and roughly kicked her stomach to rouse her.
"Up, wench! Get up!"
With a moan of pain, Ifran wearily staggered to her feet, the rough treatment and lack of sleep taking a toll upon her body. It was all she could do to keep her knees from buckling. The Orc was not satisfied as she nearly fell to the ground again.
"Get up! You weakling of an Elf!"
Again, Ifran stood, but as soon as she had her balance, she fell. Frustrated beyond reason, the Orc wielded his dagger.
"You'll stay up now, she-Elf, or you'll feel this blade soon enough!"
With what little strength she had, Ifran spat into his face. "Disgusting Orc!" she cried in defiance.
The Orc roared and wiped off his face, and with the same motion, swept the dagger across her abdomen. It was the last move he ever made. An arrow came from the hill above and pierced his neck. With a strangled cry, he fell.
War cries came from the hill as Legolas and his company swept down upon the Orc camp, swinging, hacking, stabbing, shooting, and killing. Ifran weakly stumbled off to the side, clutching her stomach in pain. The battle was short, but bloody. All Orcs had been killed, but fifteen Elf- riders had paid the price.
Legolas looked around briefly for Ifran before finding her upon her back, grimacing in anguish. He leaped from Quasar and hurried to her side, looking down at the fatal wound. It was beyond anyone's help to heal. He had come too late.
Tears streamed down his face as he held Ifran in his arms. The others watched in reverent silence from a distance. Ifran shivered, cold from the blood loss. Legolas held her closer. No words were exchanged, but there was no need for them. For a long while, even after Ifran's body had lain still and cold for much time, Legolas held her. At long last, he released her and gazed into the serene night sky, flooded with stars. The same stars they had watched in previous days had not changed, though so much already had down on Middle Earth.
Ifran was given a proper burial before the prince of Mirkwood returned home.
He leaped up and hurried over to Legolas and Aragorn, who were sitting side by side. Dropping to his knees, he told them what he had seen and heard. Legolas jumped up at the news, glaring down at the Elf-rider.
"You are sure?" he asked tensely.
The Elf-rider nodded with raised brows. "Yes. They are riding that way," he pointed.
Aragorn and Legolas roused the others, but one of them, their leader, Erithod, stood and protested,
"If what Haimelstir saw is true, then we are outnumbered, far outnumbered. We cannot possibly have any hopes of winning this battle!"
Legolas strode over to him, his clear blue eyes blazing fury. "We cannot leave Ifran to endure torture and death! Not as long as breath still dwells within us! By not attempting to rescue her, we have already killed her!"
Erithod, however, stood firmly to his opposition. Many were beginning to agree with him, and soon Legolas, Aragorn, and Gimli were alone in their side. Finally, after much debate, Legolas erupted.
"ENOUGH! We have wasted too much time as it is!" He leaped onto Quasar and galloped off, Aragorn and Gimli mounting Hasufed to follow. Erithod was stunned. He did not think Legolas would do that, nor Aragorn. His heart was moved as he turned and faced his comrades.
"I was in the wrong! Mount your horses! Tonight, we hunt Orcs!"
Legolas was already galloping furiously after the Orc band by the time Hasufed caught up with him. Hearing his hoof beats beside him, Legolas glanced over and gave a reassuring smile and nod of thanks and recognition. They swept around a bend in the trail and hurried on.
Hearing more hoof beats behind, Legolas turned and looked back. Erithod and the rest of the Elf-riders had just come around the same bend and now followed the blonde Elf. Overjoyed, Legolas spurred Quasar on to full throttle, and the bay took off with a speed that no horse of man or Elf could match. His strides were long and fluid, and his black mane and tail streamed freely in the wind. As the company rode into the night, Legolas was sure they would find Ifran in time.
At the same time, Ifran was sleeping fitfully on the hard ground of the Orc camp. While all was still, one Orc approached her and roughly kicked her stomach to rouse her.
"Up, wench! Get up!"
With a moan of pain, Ifran wearily staggered to her feet, the rough treatment and lack of sleep taking a toll upon her body. It was all she could do to keep her knees from buckling. The Orc was not satisfied as she nearly fell to the ground again.
"Get up! You weakling of an Elf!"
Again, Ifran stood, but as soon as she had her balance, she fell. Frustrated beyond reason, the Orc wielded his dagger.
"You'll stay up now, she-Elf, or you'll feel this blade soon enough!"
With what little strength she had, Ifran spat into his face. "Disgusting Orc!" she cried in defiance.
The Orc roared and wiped off his face, and with the same motion, swept the dagger across her abdomen. It was the last move he ever made. An arrow came from the hill above and pierced his neck. With a strangled cry, he fell.
War cries came from the hill as Legolas and his company swept down upon the Orc camp, swinging, hacking, stabbing, shooting, and killing. Ifran weakly stumbled off to the side, clutching her stomach in pain. The battle was short, but bloody. All Orcs had been killed, but fifteen Elf- riders had paid the price.
Legolas looked around briefly for Ifran before finding her upon her back, grimacing in anguish. He leaped from Quasar and hurried to her side, looking down at the fatal wound. It was beyond anyone's help to heal. He had come too late.
Tears streamed down his face as he held Ifran in his arms. The others watched in reverent silence from a distance. Ifran shivered, cold from the blood loss. Legolas held her closer. No words were exchanged, but there was no need for them. For a long while, even after Ifran's body had lain still and cold for much time, Legolas held her. At long last, he released her and gazed into the serene night sky, flooded with stars. The same stars they had watched in previous days had not changed, though so much already had down on Middle Earth.
Ifran was given a proper burial before the prince of Mirkwood returned home.