Chapter Two: An Unlikely Rescue
It had been decades since the elves of Thranduil and the elves of Calaelen communed. After several heated conversations on borderlines the two hadn't spoken a word to each other since. Thranduil son of Oropher ruled the forest just north of the forest river (which becomes Celduin further onwards) and Calaelen ruled his realm, just southwest of the river. Surprisingly the two different realms lived peacefully by them selves.
Legolas, king Thranduil's youngest son had a heart for the forest, though he was spoilt in every shape and form, the archer quickly excelled in the art of combat and spent most of his spare time in the woods. The flora and fauna of Greenwood the Great, embraced him like a brother, teaching him the language of the trees and beasts. When creatures such as goblins and their pet wargs threatened his realm he would lash out with new vengeance. Anything that marred his lush forest was given an appointment with the edge of his knives and tips of his arrows.
Legolas felt proud this day. He had brought down a whole unit of goblins at the deeper, more secluded part of Thranduil's kingdom. He strolled through the lavish undergrowth that was blooming with wild flowers while he wiped his blade clean from the goblin waste that tainted its usually glimmering surface.
It was a late start to the day and he knew that by evening fall, the number of spies in Greenwood would increase dramatically, owing to the fact that goblins where blinded by the suns glare and preferred the dark.
He inhaled the sweet scent of fresh blossoms as he watched the sun sink a little lower, still glowing in its grace. Legolas broke a few branches off a dead tree that lay cluttered at the forest floor and made his way up a nearby chestnut tree. He comfortably perched himself on one of its sturdy arms and set to wok, making a few more arrows. Though his father provided him with the best quality, finely crafted arrows found in Greenwood, Legolas turned down the offer, saying he was more successful with ones he made.
The sun sank further; it was now at half circle for those who bothered to bask in its glory. Legolas watched breathlessly as the sky turned from a light splash of blue which it had been this fine morning to a canvas of rich hues ranging from yellow to red. The forest was going quiet. The sounds of the birds died down and it was the cicadas turn to play the forest lullaby.
Through the silence and subtle cicadas' song, loud unsynchronized footsteps disturbed the night air. Legolas swung his legs onto one side and peered down. The noise was too soft for a goblin or orc, and they where too loud to be made by an elf, so he jumped down to a lower branch for a better view. A figure stumbled out of the thick underbrush and collapsed on the soft earth. It lay still on the damp earth for a while before gracefully rising to its feet quietly dusting off the bits of debris that clung to the -deep green- cloak. The 'new visitor' looked exhausted.
***
Nikita looked around wearily as she tried to get a bearing on where she was. At least she lost Davies that was something! She cursed loudly at the thought of her father. Was it so hard to trust a daughter? Or was it just her? Questions emerged from all parts of her brain. 'Head rush' she thought to herself as she cautiously sat down on a fallen log.
Intrigued, Legolas crouched lower, trying to have a look at strangers face without breaking his neck. Nikita sat with her wrists crossed upon her knees and her forehead rested against the back of a slender hand. Legolas watched the stranger take off the empty quiver and lay it down beside the log before checking for any injuries. A small thorn had scratched her right across her knuckles and it was bleeding profoundly. 'Must be a poisonous little devil' she thought to herself as she picked out the inflicting thorn. She inspected her right hand thoroughly before dipping her left into a pocket and pulling out a white and remotely clean, piece of cloth. Having left the palace in a hurry, Nikita had forgotten all about the herbs she would need out in the wilderness, so she was satisfied with just wrapping her hand in cloth, waiting for her 'elven healing process' to kick in.
***
'Empty quiver, no herbs, must not be from around here' thought Legolas as he crawled further down the branch. It was a long time since anyone other than the occasional goblin came wandering along this path, and if there were, as prince he would be informed. He got as close as he dared go and watched the weary stranger's movements.
Nikita was so tired she swore she could see spots dance before her eyes. Her legs felt like lead and her head kept throbbing in the most annoying manner. She stretched out her arms; hoping she could gain more flexibility in them and flopped down on the grass leaning her aching back against the log. She knew she should to move on, where she was heading; she had no clue. She contemplated the idea of turning back and heading home, but she was too stubborn and she wanted her father to know that she was old enough to take care of her self. She would stay here.
'I am not getting up from here!!' the rumbling of goblin footsteps could be heard 'I shall not budge..or not'. She jumped up, off the forest floor, which she regretted later as the throbbing turned to drumming and her legs felt like an Oliphant had sat on them. She chose to turn tail and turn down this fight but the troop was closer than she estimated and they exploded from all directions, straight at her. Nikita was rooted on the spot. Her legs just did not allow any more exertion. Her body had never dealt with so much strain and it refused to respond. She realized she hadn't any arrows left, only knives.
***
'Ah! .Action' thought Legolas taking an interest but not moving a muscle to help the out numbered 'warrior'. He was amused to see the new elf, hitting realization that knives where the only weapons left. He yawned lazily as the goblins did what they always do, shout out a battle cry and get there heads chopped as they blindly ran towards their opponent.
'You can do this Nitika. You can do this Nikita' she desperately chanted to her self. Her strength was wearing out faster than she expected and her lack of skill with weapons was paying its toll.
She swung her knives successfully disposing of a few but the more she brought down the more appeared. By her feet goblins lay cluttered, dead by her sword but still the fight continued on. The goblins where merciless, bold and they where in their numbers, more coming by the second. Nikita was brave but she was not stupid after she had slain the last goblin she possibly could, she looked around hopelessly at the many numbers. Twenty, she estimated though it seemed like hundreds to her. Her powerful strikes where matched by ones that could easily decapitate her if given the chance. She took once glance around before surrendering her blades.
Grinning to themselves the goblins drew nearer occasionally tripping over the dead. The immensely vast goblin 'probably the head' thought Nikita, fished out a filthy piece of cloth and slammed it across her nose. Nikita was sent reeling back against a tree by the impact. She struggled as best she could but the cloth seemed to be drenched in a strong solution. It burned her lungs with every breath she took and her body slowly began to go numb. Her eyes where wide and fearful but there was nothing she could do. Her hands slowly released the grip around the arm that held the cloth. Her hands fell limply at her side. Her eyes drew heavy and she felt like her body was falling. She unwillingly crumpled at their feet, blacked out to the world around.
***
'Right .this is getting out of hand now' thought Legolas biting down on his lip. A mannerism he adopted from his father. He grabbed his newly made arrows and started his attack. He held two arrows and released, felling the surprised beasts in a blink of an eye. They cursed and started scattering around trying to shield them selves from the shower of sharp points. The biggest and ugliest one 'the head' swiftly picked up the unconscious form and made for the tree. Nikita's hair was strewn over the goblins back as he held her up upside down her arms dangling over his shoulder. The golden glimmer caught the prince's eyes as it swayed with the movements of the beast. 'No you don't' whispered Legolas as he released his arrow. His aim was true and the goblin fell sending the body flying. Thinking that the stranger must surely be critically injured or worst dead, he speeded up his movement and disposed of all the goblins.
Nikita lay sprawled along the grass, on her back. Her hood was down and her blond hair was strewn over her face and shoulders. Legolas moved over to her side, dreading the worst. He picked up the soaked cloth and inspected it. 'Alcohol ..not good' he thought. For elves over-heightened senses it was a disaster. He knelt by her side and brushed away a few strands. 'Ai a women! What by the valar is she doing wandering alone in these forests?' he cursed. Though he didn't want to admit it, the maiden that was before him was beautiful, the kind of beauty that also needed to have youth and a warm heart to achieve. She was exquisite. He sought for a pulse within the smooth hand he held. There was one. He let out the breath he was holding. 'Now the question is what do I do?'
******** A/N: thx so much for reviewing. Don't worry I have changed the warg/goblin mistake. And please forgive me! My beta NEVER checks her mail so bear with the grammar and spelling. If there are any slipups plz mail me! Ure words are appreciated thx again.
P.s) a quiver is the thingy that holds the arrows. I hope that's the right spelling ;)
P.p.s, thx Larri for being my second beta!!!
-True-elfy
It had been decades since the elves of Thranduil and the elves of Calaelen communed. After several heated conversations on borderlines the two hadn't spoken a word to each other since. Thranduil son of Oropher ruled the forest just north of the forest river (which becomes Celduin further onwards) and Calaelen ruled his realm, just southwest of the river. Surprisingly the two different realms lived peacefully by them selves.
Legolas, king Thranduil's youngest son had a heart for the forest, though he was spoilt in every shape and form, the archer quickly excelled in the art of combat and spent most of his spare time in the woods. The flora and fauna of Greenwood the Great, embraced him like a brother, teaching him the language of the trees and beasts. When creatures such as goblins and their pet wargs threatened his realm he would lash out with new vengeance. Anything that marred his lush forest was given an appointment with the edge of his knives and tips of his arrows.
Legolas felt proud this day. He had brought down a whole unit of goblins at the deeper, more secluded part of Thranduil's kingdom. He strolled through the lavish undergrowth that was blooming with wild flowers while he wiped his blade clean from the goblin waste that tainted its usually glimmering surface.
It was a late start to the day and he knew that by evening fall, the number of spies in Greenwood would increase dramatically, owing to the fact that goblins where blinded by the suns glare and preferred the dark.
He inhaled the sweet scent of fresh blossoms as he watched the sun sink a little lower, still glowing in its grace. Legolas broke a few branches off a dead tree that lay cluttered at the forest floor and made his way up a nearby chestnut tree. He comfortably perched himself on one of its sturdy arms and set to wok, making a few more arrows. Though his father provided him with the best quality, finely crafted arrows found in Greenwood, Legolas turned down the offer, saying he was more successful with ones he made.
The sun sank further; it was now at half circle for those who bothered to bask in its glory. Legolas watched breathlessly as the sky turned from a light splash of blue which it had been this fine morning to a canvas of rich hues ranging from yellow to red. The forest was going quiet. The sounds of the birds died down and it was the cicadas turn to play the forest lullaby.
Through the silence and subtle cicadas' song, loud unsynchronized footsteps disturbed the night air. Legolas swung his legs onto one side and peered down. The noise was too soft for a goblin or orc, and they where too loud to be made by an elf, so he jumped down to a lower branch for a better view. A figure stumbled out of the thick underbrush and collapsed on the soft earth. It lay still on the damp earth for a while before gracefully rising to its feet quietly dusting off the bits of debris that clung to the -deep green- cloak. The 'new visitor' looked exhausted.
***
Nikita looked around wearily as she tried to get a bearing on where she was. At least she lost Davies that was something! She cursed loudly at the thought of her father. Was it so hard to trust a daughter? Or was it just her? Questions emerged from all parts of her brain. 'Head rush' she thought to herself as she cautiously sat down on a fallen log.
Intrigued, Legolas crouched lower, trying to have a look at strangers face without breaking his neck. Nikita sat with her wrists crossed upon her knees and her forehead rested against the back of a slender hand. Legolas watched the stranger take off the empty quiver and lay it down beside the log before checking for any injuries. A small thorn had scratched her right across her knuckles and it was bleeding profoundly. 'Must be a poisonous little devil' she thought to herself as she picked out the inflicting thorn. She inspected her right hand thoroughly before dipping her left into a pocket and pulling out a white and remotely clean, piece of cloth. Having left the palace in a hurry, Nikita had forgotten all about the herbs she would need out in the wilderness, so she was satisfied with just wrapping her hand in cloth, waiting for her 'elven healing process' to kick in.
***
'Empty quiver, no herbs, must not be from around here' thought Legolas as he crawled further down the branch. It was a long time since anyone other than the occasional goblin came wandering along this path, and if there were, as prince he would be informed. He got as close as he dared go and watched the weary stranger's movements.
Nikita was so tired she swore she could see spots dance before her eyes. Her legs felt like lead and her head kept throbbing in the most annoying manner. She stretched out her arms; hoping she could gain more flexibility in them and flopped down on the grass leaning her aching back against the log. She knew she should to move on, where she was heading; she had no clue. She contemplated the idea of turning back and heading home, but she was too stubborn and she wanted her father to know that she was old enough to take care of her self. She would stay here.
'I am not getting up from here!!' the rumbling of goblin footsteps could be heard 'I shall not budge..or not'. She jumped up, off the forest floor, which she regretted later as the throbbing turned to drumming and her legs felt like an Oliphant had sat on them. She chose to turn tail and turn down this fight but the troop was closer than she estimated and they exploded from all directions, straight at her. Nikita was rooted on the spot. Her legs just did not allow any more exertion. Her body had never dealt with so much strain and it refused to respond. She realized she hadn't any arrows left, only knives.
***
'Ah! .Action' thought Legolas taking an interest but not moving a muscle to help the out numbered 'warrior'. He was amused to see the new elf, hitting realization that knives where the only weapons left. He yawned lazily as the goblins did what they always do, shout out a battle cry and get there heads chopped as they blindly ran towards their opponent.
'You can do this Nitika. You can do this Nikita' she desperately chanted to her self. Her strength was wearing out faster than she expected and her lack of skill with weapons was paying its toll.
She swung her knives successfully disposing of a few but the more she brought down the more appeared. By her feet goblins lay cluttered, dead by her sword but still the fight continued on. The goblins where merciless, bold and they where in their numbers, more coming by the second. Nikita was brave but she was not stupid after she had slain the last goblin she possibly could, she looked around hopelessly at the many numbers. Twenty, she estimated though it seemed like hundreds to her. Her powerful strikes where matched by ones that could easily decapitate her if given the chance. She took once glance around before surrendering her blades.
Grinning to themselves the goblins drew nearer occasionally tripping over the dead. The immensely vast goblin 'probably the head' thought Nikita, fished out a filthy piece of cloth and slammed it across her nose. Nikita was sent reeling back against a tree by the impact. She struggled as best she could but the cloth seemed to be drenched in a strong solution. It burned her lungs with every breath she took and her body slowly began to go numb. Her eyes where wide and fearful but there was nothing she could do. Her hands slowly released the grip around the arm that held the cloth. Her hands fell limply at her side. Her eyes drew heavy and she felt like her body was falling. She unwillingly crumpled at their feet, blacked out to the world around.
***
'Right .this is getting out of hand now' thought Legolas biting down on his lip. A mannerism he adopted from his father. He grabbed his newly made arrows and started his attack. He held two arrows and released, felling the surprised beasts in a blink of an eye. They cursed and started scattering around trying to shield them selves from the shower of sharp points. The biggest and ugliest one 'the head' swiftly picked up the unconscious form and made for the tree. Nikita's hair was strewn over the goblins back as he held her up upside down her arms dangling over his shoulder. The golden glimmer caught the prince's eyes as it swayed with the movements of the beast. 'No you don't' whispered Legolas as he released his arrow. His aim was true and the goblin fell sending the body flying. Thinking that the stranger must surely be critically injured or worst dead, he speeded up his movement and disposed of all the goblins.
Nikita lay sprawled along the grass, on her back. Her hood was down and her blond hair was strewn over her face and shoulders. Legolas moved over to her side, dreading the worst. He picked up the soaked cloth and inspected it. 'Alcohol ..not good' he thought. For elves over-heightened senses it was a disaster. He knelt by her side and brushed away a few strands. 'Ai a women! What by the valar is she doing wandering alone in these forests?' he cursed. Though he didn't want to admit it, the maiden that was before him was beautiful, the kind of beauty that also needed to have youth and a warm heart to achieve. She was exquisite. He sought for a pulse within the smooth hand he held. There was one. He let out the breath he was holding. 'Now the question is what do I do?'
******** A/N: thx so much for reviewing. Don't worry I have changed the warg/goblin mistake. And please forgive me! My beta NEVER checks her mail so bear with the grammar and spelling. If there are any slipups plz mail me! Ure words are appreciated thx again.
P.s) a quiver is the thingy that holds the arrows. I hope that's the right spelling ;)
P.p.s, thx Larri for being my second beta!!!
-True-elfy