Okay. Cutheniel and Manwein are captured by orcs and elfin hormones happen to kick in at the orc camp. How amusing. Well this chapter is 'more work and less play', or so to say.
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Cutheniel awoke with a hard poke to her ribs from the toe of a leather boot.
"Wake up now or I will not feed you. You two are lucky that my master wants to see you, or I would kill you right now. Get up!" he kicked her again and Cutheniel held her side as she struggled to get up, her legs still hurt from the many whacks she had received yesterday by the long stick the orcs had hit her with.
She pulled he hem of her trouser legs up to examine the wounds on her legs. There were mostly just bruises but some wounds had a cover of dried blood. She quickly pulled her pant legs down when she heard the captain orc grunt angrily from the fire.
"Wake up your friend too," he said in a huff as he kicked at lumps of orcs still in their bedrolls.
Cutheniel clutched Manwein's hand, and shook it gently. She rolled over and shook him carefully. She did not shake him hard, for the day before he had received most of the whacking, he had been tired already because of running away, and was probably still tired. She brushed his hair away from his face and kissed his cheek. "Manwein, wake up," she whispered in his ear.
Manwein stirred and stared up at her. "What?"
"Get up, quickly," she said helping him prop himself up. She got up and signaled for Manwein to do the same before the orc captain became enraged. They walked uncertainly over and around sleeping lumps over to the fire.
They stood and watched as a smaller orc approached the captain.
"Gnashuk! Gnashuk!" it called to the captain as he scrambled to reach the massive orc.
He turned- annoyed- to the insignificant, little orc. "What is it?!"
The jumpy orc paused to catch its breath before answering. "A band of (breath) dark elves (breath) several leagues away (breath) saw the smoke from the fire (breath) coming (breath) here," he finished and inhaled deeply.
Gnashuk cursed in furiously as he ordered his troop to get up immediately and pack up. "You two," he yelled at Cutheniel and Manwein standing there. "Fold your bedrolls, hurry up! You'll be lucky if you live to get your rations! Hustle!"
The two elves rushed to where they had slept and quickly rolled up their blankets and tied them tight. They gripped them and stood awaiting further orders from the panicking captain.
Soon everything was gathered and all the orcs were standing awaiting their orders from Gnashuk. "This way!" he said pointing opposite the way the elves were coming.
Cutheniel and Manwein followed gratefully. Both of them had heard about the dark elves from many stories. They were said to be brutal to their prisoners and had no mercy to anyone who was not their kind. They were even known to kill other elves that were not 'dark or evil'. So they both followed, they could have run faster but were ordered to run in the same pace as the orcs.
They had run many leagues non-stop, when finally Gnashuk ordered his troops to stop. He ordered Manwein to climb up a tree to see where the dark elves were. For he trusted that Manwein would not leave if the orcs still had the maiden, who the warrior seemed quite attached to, which was an advantage to the captain, for one would not leave the other.
Manwein rushed quickly up the firtree all the way to the topmost branches where he looked for the band of elves. He looked out into the vast green sea and watched as the leaves rippled and were like waves in the water. He could not see the elves under the leaves of the hundreds of trees but he could faintly hear them. They were back at the orcs' camp many leagues away and he listened as they debated whether to follow the orcs or head back to where they had come. He reckoned that they had decided to head back and listened as faint footsteps walked away, he paid little heed to the fact that it seemed like the number of foot steps had decreased. He scrambled back down and when he reached the ground rushed to Cutheniel's side.
Gnashuk gave an ugly grin. 'Yes he is very attached to her, as long as we have her we have him, good,' he thought evilly. Then he asked him what he had seen or heard.
"They were at the camp and are now heading back toward where they had come from," Manwein said, nervously shifting from foot to foot hoping that his information was sufficient.
"Good. We will continue in this direction," Gnashuk ordered and watched his company run out into the direction he had pointed to. He stood there and followed the last of his troop and brought up the rear.
Soon rations were passed around to be eaten while the company moved. When Manwein and Cutheniel received their share of smoked meat and stale bread they grimaced at it in disgust. Manwein leaned over to Cutheniel. "From what animal does this meat belong to?" he asked appalled.
She shrugged and sniffed it. "I don't want to find out," she said after examining it.
Suddenly they were whacked brutally on the back of their legs with a large oak rod. Cutheniel staggered and Manwein stumbled. Cutheniel quickly caught Manwein and helped him catch his balance.
"If you will not eat your rations you will not have anything eat, so eat your rations or don't! I will have no more complaints from the two of you!" the orc beside them said as he shook the oak rod at them.
They abandoned their rations, giving them to the orc who had reprimanded them, and were walking hungry and tired.
Suddenly Cutheniel remembered her pack. It was hanging conspicuously next to her quiver. The orcs hadn't seen it; it had slipped un-noticed under their slimy noses. She grinned triumphantly.
Manwein stared at her confused, they were captives of a band of orcs, they had no food, they were tired, they were hurt, and she was smiling. "What are you so happy about?" he asked curious about what had made her so happy in a time of great chaos.
She silently pointed to her pack hanging in plain sight on her shoulder. The empty headed fools hadn't seen it!
He watched as she pulled out a pack of lembas and broke it in fourths giving him a piece and taking one for herself as she put the remaining half back in the pack.
They hid the waybread in their hands and silently nibbled on it. Becoming stronger as it nourished their bodies and gave them more energy.
Manwein nipped at the sweet bread when out of the corner of his eye he saw the orc next to him sniff the air curiously. He had smelled the lembas. Manwein quickly turned to Cutheniel who was consuming her share slowly and contently and he stuffed the waybread into his mouth and he signaled her to do the same. Though confused, Cutheniel obeyed and they both swallowed down the lembas.
As they were licking the remaining crumbs from their mouths, they heard Gnashuk order the troop to stop. He walked toward them with the orc who smelled the lembas following closely behind.
"Who's waybread did Shatnug smell?" Gnashuk asked enraged.
But before she could answer, Cutheniel heard Manwein say, "It was mine. I had some in my pockets."
Cutheniel stared at him in disbelief and then in anger. He had self-volunteered to become her scapegoat. And now he would take the blame and suffer the punishment. "No," Cutheniel silently mouthed while Gnashuk's back was turned.
Manwein stared at her sternly, sending the message that he did not want her to suffer the punishment and that she should say nothing and let him take the blame.
Gnashuk ordered him to remove his tunic and stand still while Shatnug fetched the rod.
Cutheniel placed her hand on the hilt of her longest knife. But there was no hilt, there was no knife, the sheath was empty. She shook her quiver slightly, but there was no rattle of her bow and arrows in her quiver it was empty. They had taken her weapons while she was sleeping!
She looked down at her right boot, she sighed relieved. They had not seen her dagger. She raised her hand to touch the hidden sheath on her quiver; the knife was still there. 'Oh no,' she thought her favorite knife was not hidden, they probably took it as well. She reached back to the slender sheath. 'Thank you,' she thought assured. Her knife was still in its sheath. Gnashuk had probably thought it was harmless.
As Gnashuk raised the rod over Manwein Cutheniel grasped Brethil's hilt-she had come up with its name while she was walking pondering over the issue before they received their rations. It meant silver birch' she thought it was proper, for the blade was slender and strong like a birch twig. But it of course was not wood, it was mithril, hence 'silver birch' - and pulled it out.
She advanced at Gnashuk and several seconds before Brethil's blade could have sliced through the orc's filthy neck, Cutheniel was jerked back by several orcs. They gripped her arms and she struggled to come free.
Gnashuk stuck Manwein powerfully and Manwein winced in pain, but did not make a sound. 'Scream already,' Cutheniel thought. 'Scream and he'll stop. If you scream you give up and he'll be satisfied.' But she knew he would not, he was too stubborn to give up and admit defeat. In fact all the elves she knew where too stubborn to give up and admit defeat, including her. But she could not blame him it was elfin nature to not want to give up.
She turned her head; it was painful to watch Manwein hold his ground despite the powerful blows to his bare back. She flinched at the sound of the oak rod hitting his back. She tried closing her eyes but her imagination just made the vision worse.
She opened her eyes and watched as Manwein finally fell, without making a sound. She squirmed in the slimy hands of the orcs and whimpered as she tried to break free from their tenacious grip.
Cutheniel watched in horror as blood trickled down Manwein's back and dripped onto his discarded tunic. Tears streamed silently down her cheeks and she tried hard to sob but nothing would come out.
Finally Gnashuk nodded to her captors to let her go. She dashed to Manwein's writhing body and hugged him placing her arms carefully around his neck, not wanting to bring him more pain by touching the cuts. She let go of him and commanded him to keep still as she examined his wounds. She patted his lesions with his tunic so that the blood would not dry on his back.
Manwein merely inhaled sharply when he could not stand the pain and did not make a sound. He sat there listening to the orcs unpack their loads and set up camp.
When the tunic was too soaked to absorb anymore blood Cutheniel discarded it into the fire. She ordered one of the smaller orcs to get her some warm water. And in several minutes he returned with a pot of warm water. She took a thin cotton blanket out of her pack-she had taken it from the palace- and used Brethil to cut a small square from the large sheet. She dipped it in the water and used it to clean Manwein's cuts.
He winced several times as she cleaned the deepest cuts but remained still for the most part. After his wounds were cleansed, Cutheniel once again used Brethil to cut the sheet into long strips and used them to bandage Manwein's lesions. She did not mind doctoring Manwein, he had taken care of her as well and she owed it to him.
She then looked at his ratty bloodstained tunic; it was way too pitiful to even imagine someone wearing it. She searched through her pack, doubtful that she would find anything that would fit Manwein and not look ridiculous.
Surprisingly she found a tunic several sizes larger than hers, it was given to her by Legolas-she had slipped into a pond and was soaked so he let her borrow his, though he had to walk around topless until they returned to the palace.
She slipped it over Manwein's head and in fact it fit him perfectly, she had never realized that he and Legolas where practically the same size, she had never seen them both at the same time together and she hoped she would never have to.
Manwein looked at the tunic baffled it wasn't a simple tunic like what he wore, it was bluish silver and it seemed to shine lightly and more surprisingly it was his size. "Where'd you get this?" he asked curious.
"It was given to me. I was chasing a friend of mine and I slipped in mud hidden under the grass and I fell into a pond," she said laughing.
Manwein started to laugh as well but winced and inhaled sharply as a piercing pain shot through his back.
Suddenly a loud whistling of an arrow reached their ears, they glanced at the orcs making camp and became alert as they saw that the arrow had struck an orc and it fell to the ground, its dark blood soaking the forest floor.
They quickly scrambled up and Cutheniel supported Manwein and they scurried to the edge of the clearing. Behind them they heard a shout, ordering one of the elves to catch them.
Soon a hand grabbed Cutheniel's arm and yanked her and Manwein back into the clearing.
The quick scramble up and their rush to escape left Manwein feeling lightheaded and he went to prop himself against a tree. The guard did not care; Manwein was clearly injured and would not be able to escape. But he was not sure about the maiden so he kept his hold on her.
Cutheniel jerked her arm in the direction of Manwein and her guard followed her-his hand never leaving her arm- over to Manwein. She stood beside Manwein whose head was propped against the trunk of tree with his eyes closed. His breathing was shallow, but she did not worry much, for elves healed quickly.
She turned to watch the battle in the clearing; many of the orcs were already down. Dark elves were very skilled warriors, there were fifteen of them, including the one that kept a tenacious hold on her arm.
She continued to watch as the warriors sliced the orcs by the throat one-by-one. Gnashuk was the last one to be struck down and she smiled as his filthy body slid of the end of a warrior's sword.
One elf that seemed to have authority over the others ordered ten of them to join back up with the rest of the company. The remaining four walked over to their comrade and the captives. All five of them looked simultaneously at Cutheniel then at Manwein propped against the tree, and then back at Cutheniel.
They looked at her in astonishment, never had they seen a maiden quite like this. Her attire consisted of a custom made tunic that laced from the back, a pair of feminine trousers, boots made of strong, light leather that reached up under her knees, and were tightly laced, and wrist gauntlets made from the same leather. Her hair was untidy and her face was covered in dirt.
She carried an empty quiver and from her belt hung an empty sheath. Barely noticeable was a dagger, hidden at the top of her right boot, and an average sized knife tucked into a sheath in her empty quiver. Swinging on the back of her belt was a slender sheath containing a thin, narrow blade, which looked harmless.
But despite her unsightly garments, the maiden was beautiful.
Cutheniel stood there not knowing why they were staring at her, she guessed that it was because that they were deciding if they should behead her, or torture her slowly. She was too scared to look into their eyes to see what they were thinking, so she looked at the limp, slimy corpse of Gnashuk.
Though Cutheniel did not notice the reason they were staring, but Manwein did. He grew impatient and grunted to snap them back into reality. They all snapped back and introduced themselves- though her beauty kept Manwein ever vigilant; it had its lifesaving advantages. For if she were not so exquisite they would have probably killed them both immediately, or they might have not been so polite.
"I am Aegnorion," the commanding elf said and held out his hand. Cutheniel politely shook it. He waved his hand in greeting to Manwein. "These are my brothers Agarwaent and Dhaeraow," he pointed to the two elves on his right and they waved in greeting. He pointed to the warrior on his left; " This is Delduwath." The elf waved silently. "And this," he pointed to the elf still vigilantly holding Cutheniel's arm, "…is Haydn."
Cutheniel stood thee amused and raised a brow. She had translated all their names and they were all humorously unpleasant. Aegnorion meant 'fell-fire', Agarwaent meant 'bloodstained', Dhaeraow meant 'traitor', Delduwath meant 'horror of night shadow', and Haydn… well Haydn didn't really mean anything but the others did. She quickly glanced back at Manwein, he was smirking. He had found the meanings as well.
"Who are you and what is your business here?" Aegnorion asked.'
"I am Kasumi," Cutheniel lied and continued, "and this is…"
"Manwein," Manwein introduced himself, he did not want Cutheniel to make up name for him, and he would slip and wouldn't recognize if someone was talking to him and his cover would blow. But he was already used to the name Kasumi; he even called Cutheniel that sometimes by mistake.
Cutheniel nodded accepting his decision and continued, "We were captured by orcs."
Curious, Haydn asked-finally letting go of her arm, "Why is your quiver and sheath empty?"
Cutheniel embarrassedly looked at her vacant quiver and sheath, she had forgotten about that problem. "Oh," she said walking past them to stand before Gnashuk's dead body. Cutheniel kicked over his blood corpse to reveal his pack. She pulled out a bundle of cloth that held her arrows, bow, and her long knife. "Their occupants are right here," she said putting her weapons back in their places.
The elves nodded and Aegnorion spoke, "We will have to bring you to the dark King's palace in Gwathdore, where he must give you permission to leave or order you to stay."
Cutheniel and Manwein nodded. They could do nothing anyway. Manwein was too badly injured to defend himself or run and Cutheniel could not take five fully-grown and trained warriors. Well at least four of them were fully-grown. Haydn seemed to be younger than the rest, a little older Manwein, or so she reckoned.
"Good. Follow us, we will not tie you for I can tell you are not one to leave this injured warrior. So do I have your word that you will not runaway?" Aegnorion asked aristocratically.
"Yes," Kasumi uttered quietly.
Manwein stood up shakily and joined them. They lead them across the clearing. Each of the elves jumping gracefully over the dead orc corpses.
They continued on back the way they had come. The five elves surrounding the prisoners, who were walking silently, fearful of what might happen at the palace of the Dark King.
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Wow, that was pretty long. Ow, finger cramp! Well can you guess what my age is? Hmmmm? Huh? Can you? Can you? Will you try? I apologize if any facts in my fic are incorrect, and if any are please feel free to tell me. Criticism can only help, IF of course the criticism was meant to help, but not if it was meant to offend. But I do enjoy a couple of fierce critics, makes you wanna work harder to make your story good.
And I've got to say myself, that prize seems very good, a cameo appearance in the fic Jaded! Well this fic will be more interactive, like after this contest I'll think of something else. So stay tuned! The winner will be announced in Chapter 12! I'll give it a week (cause I'll be in Mexico) and when I get back I'll see who got it right.
What will happen to Manwein and Cutheniel in the dark capitol Gwathdore?
Why does Cutheniel keep lying about her name? (Well, I know I would if I could)
Do elves have hormones?
I don't know! Well I do, but I'm not telling you! Preview of the next chapter: They arrive in Gwathdore (p.s. Gwathdore means Shadow land) and are judged by the dark King. They are introduced to the life of the Dark elves and hey it isn't too bad: parties, feasts, entertainment, and sword fights, what could be better? Well getting out of the capital would be better, but it's not as bad as they'd thought, or is it? Well Namarie!
~ Cutheniel Yavadren ~
P.s.-) if you're wondering about my elfish name, yes I know it's exactly like my character but that's the whole point. The Yavadren part appeared in this chapter. Did you see it? Well it will be explained later, and you'll be surprised who explains it! Clue it's not Cutheniel/Kasumi! She doesn't even know about that name! You'll see, so keep reading and reviewing!
P.p.s-) I will once again continue calling Cutheniel, Kasumi, because of her other little fib. Just so u don't get confused.
P.p.p.s.-) I apologize if any facts in my fic are incorrect, and if any are please feel free to tell me. Criticism can only help, IF of course the criticism was meant to help, but not if it was meant to offend. But I do enjoy a couple of fierce critics, makes you wanna work harder to make your story good. And if you find Kasumi/Cutheniel somewhat of a Mary-Sue, I don't blame you, that is slightly what she was meant to be: A beauty that attracts all free men, as if putting them under a spell. But that is part of the plot, you wait and see. There's a good explanation (or well at least I think it's good).