*Important A/N at bottom. Please read.
Disclaimer: Not mine, wish they were, and I'm not making any money off this. Whew!
It was shortly after dawn when Estel awoke, exhausted and hungry. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before; between the marriage problem and the twins' whispered movements in their room- a room that, unfortunately, was directly next to his- it was a wonder he had slept at all. But he was awake now, and needed to get up to continue his planning of different ways to solve his problem... he sighed. Truly, it would be much easier if the Prince would agree with him and refuse this marriage, but it seemed very unlikely. After all, he was a Mirkwood Elf and the son of the most stubborn wood-elf to have ever lived. And there was nothing to say the Elf- Prince didn't *want* to marry- no secret notes, no letters of refusal or pleading for help or cancellations... Estel sighed again. He truly did not want to hurt the Prince, but he could not marry him! It wouldn't be fair to either of them, expecting to produce heirs and rule their kingdoms wisely while trapped in a loveless marriage, and he would do anything in his power to prevent such a thing from occurring.
With a groan he stumbled over to the washbin. He was still tired and despite his lack of sleep he had never been more tired in his entire life. Well, almost his entire life. There had been one time where his exhaustion exceeded his current level, but that had been the result of three sleepless nights. He shook his head wearily. Splashing water on his face, he looked into the mirror, half-expecting to see dark circles under his eyes. White hair that hid his slightly pointed ears, cloudy brown eyes, wrinkled skin, but no bags or circles stared back at him and he relaxed.
*Good,* he thought wryly. *With my luck I would have looked half- dead and frightened my betrothed away with such intensity that his father would kill me for frightening him so. And then Gondor would declare war for the murder of their future king-*
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as his brain suddenly caught up with him. His reflection! He whirled around (nearly losing his balance in the process), holding his breath in dreaded realization... only to see the same white-haired, wrinkled old man of about one hundred years old stare back at him.
With a cry of fury he turned and headed for the stables. Everything was falling apart; first an unexpected (and very unwanted) marriage was thrown at him before an equally unwanted coronation, and now he was old! It didn't matter to him how it happened-he was fairly certain it was another of the twins' 'brilliant' plans- he simply wanted it reversed. But not yet. Now he had to get away, to leave behind a place of madness and frustration, to be no one but a common beggar man, before once again being Aragorn.
Reaching the stables, he grabbed his horse, saddling her (albeit in movements much more slow and forced than usual), and mounting, he spared one last glance at his father's halls. "When I get back and reverse this spell..." He muttered angrily, and Menya snorted at his harsh tone. "Not you, Menya, I'm not angry with you." It took a few more minutes to calm the horse enough, but once she was calm and walking toward the forest he allowed himself to finish his threat.
*They'll wish they had never been born. Imagine that-making me to both look and feel like a ninety-year old man!* So upset was he that he failed to notice the sudden silence of the forest, the nervousness of his horse, and the peering eyes that watched his progress. It was only when a black arrow-one coated with poison and the stench of orcs- whistled past his ear that he became aware of the danger.
But he was so close to Imladris! Orcs had never before ventured so near an Elven realm, had they? He didn't know, and at that moment he really didn't care. Ducking as another arrow whizzed past, he gave a sharp tug on Menya's reigns. "Back to Imladris-now!"
With a shrill cry of rage, Menya turned, swiftly avoiding yet another volley or arrows, and Estel's nervousness grew. This hiding, this method of striking from the shadows was not usual orc behavior. his thoughts were interrupted as the next arrow found its mark. Slamming into his right shoulder, it had its intended effect and Menya began to slow, desperately trying to keep her rider from falling.
But it was too late. "Go, Menya," Estel whispered as his consciousness left him. "Find Ada." And then the ground came rushing up to meet him and he knew no more.
* ~*~*~*~*
Acting purely on instinct, Legolas threw himself to the ground in a tight roll. Ignoring the feel of an orc' blade passing over his ear-that had been entirely too close-he sprang. Unsheathing his twin knives as he moved to block a blow was easy and automatic, and he allowed his gaze to quickly search for more danger. He spotted it almost immediately in the form of a circle, one that surrounded him. It was moving in now, hoping to trap him and catch him unaware-three orcs behind him, weapons raised, and two on each side-but they greatly underestimated him.
Or did they? With no escape route, no trees or sturdy buildings nearby, he would be hard pressed to defeat them all. Indeed, it was almost impossible! Fighting nine orcs at a time was foolish and asking for death, but he had no choice. The members of his patrol were occupied and fighting for their own lives; he could receive no help from them.
But maybe he didn't need help. An idea was formulating in his mind, one that was both risky and dangerous, but if it worked he would free. It was simple, really, so simple he nearly overlooked it, but the solution was to break the circle.
And then there was no more time for thought. Elven instincts screamed at him, warning him of the numerous blades that were coming from multiple directions, and he simply reacted. Dodging all blows, he taunted at the orcs in his mother tongue. He knew it was a foolish move, one that would only result in angering the enemy, and for that goal he aimed. If he could distract them long enough, make them angry enough to simply act, then he had a chance. If not....
The orcs were close now, so close he could almost feel their weapons pierce his skin, yet his face remained stony and passive. *Almost there, almost..*
Now! Thought fled as he twirled, sweeping both knives in a wide arc in hopes the orcs would strike back.
He wasn't disappointed. Almost simultaneously the circle raised their weapons and brought them down for the killing blow... only to find their quarry gone.
Realization struck too little too late and the circle, unable to halt their momentum, struck each other down. The sight of all nine orcs falling under their own stupidity was enough to make Legolas grin. He had timed it closely-almost too closely, for the roll beneath the orcs' legs had almost been too slow. With a twist of his neck Legolas could see the tear in his tunic, a tunic now splattered lightly with blood, and he sighed. The wound was not serious but his patrol would insist on mothering him until they reached Imladris.
A cry of pain interrupted his thoughts and his head jerked, searching. There! Backed against an unstable building-a barn?- Taurur and Elwynian were about to be over run. And then he was running, running more quickly than he thought himself capable, and he could only hope that it would be fast enough. But he wasn't, and Elwynian was cut down before his very eyes. He screamed then, enraged beyond comprehension, but he couldn't dwell on such thoughts-not now, not when the rest of his company needed him.
He watched as Taurur raised his long knife, watched as his friend blocked one blow only to narrowly miss being hit by another, and he understood. None of his company would survive much longer for these orcs were strange. Venturing out during broad daylight, striking in ways that suggested they possessed an actual amount of intelligence, and the strength in numbers was a deadly combination. If the fight lasted much longer Legolas would have no choice but to call a retreat. It was a difficult decision, one he hoped he wouldn't need to make, but he was fully prepared to do so if necessary.
Skidding to a halt, Legolas swiftly took down first one orc and then another. He was still desperate to reach Taurur and was very close... there! Breaking through the orcs at last, he quickly drew to a halt next to his guardian. With the blackened barn at his back and only a few orcs in front, he allowed himself to survey the situation quickly. Most of his patrol was still fighting, scattered here and there throughout the village's remains, but there were a few elven bodies among the dead. Dwarfed by far, however, was the number of slain orcs, and it appeared as if the fighting was beginning to fade. With this realization came new hope, and he called out, hoping his voice could be heard above the noise. Apparently it was, for the remaining elves put forth a fresh burst of strength, and shortly after all orcs lay dead.
They had won. But the victory had come at a high and difficult price. Legolas moved forward, intent on gathering his patrol together when he tripped. Hands shot out to catch him and he sagged into the support gratefully. Once he was certain he could stand on his own, Legolas moved away, shooting Taurur a grateful glance as he did so, only to freeze. Elwynian. He had tripped over the body of Elwynian. She lay flat on her back, eyes staring at the sun in a clouded gaze. Sighing in painful regret, Legolas gently closed her eyes and saluted her respectfully. Glancing around he saw the remaining members of the patrol taking care of both the village's dead and the dead elves, and he closed his eyes tightly.
The battle was one. But at a hard price indeed.
* * * * *
Whew! I'm finally done with that chapter! Sorry it's so short, but I just wanted to get this out... and sorry about the long delay in updating; first my muse left, then my aunt had a heart attack and died, and now my uncle has cancer and is in the hospital. So real life has sucked lately. But thank you so much to my reviewers! You're the whole reason I continued this! I had actually abandoned it until I kept getting encouragement, so thank you! I know it's been a while since I last updated, so if people are still interested in this story please review or email me! Pretty please? Let me know what you think, and if you still want me to continue this!
Disclaimer: Not mine, wish they were, and I'm not making any money off this. Whew!
It was shortly after dawn when Estel awoke, exhausted and hungry. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night before; between the marriage problem and the twins' whispered movements in their room- a room that, unfortunately, was directly next to his- it was a wonder he had slept at all. But he was awake now, and needed to get up to continue his planning of different ways to solve his problem... he sighed. Truly, it would be much easier if the Prince would agree with him and refuse this marriage, but it seemed very unlikely. After all, he was a Mirkwood Elf and the son of the most stubborn wood-elf to have ever lived. And there was nothing to say the Elf- Prince didn't *want* to marry- no secret notes, no letters of refusal or pleading for help or cancellations... Estel sighed again. He truly did not want to hurt the Prince, but he could not marry him! It wouldn't be fair to either of them, expecting to produce heirs and rule their kingdoms wisely while trapped in a loveless marriage, and he would do anything in his power to prevent such a thing from occurring.
With a groan he stumbled over to the washbin. He was still tired and despite his lack of sleep he had never been more tired in his entire life. Well, almost his entire life. There had been one time where his exhaustion exceeded his current level, but that had been the result of three sleepless nights. He shook his head wearily. Splashing water on his face, he looked into the mirror, half-expecting to see dark circles under his eyes. White hair that hid his slightly pointed ears, cloudy brown eyes, wrinkled skin, but no bags or circles stared back at him and he relaxed.
*Good,* he thought wryly. *With my luck I would have looked half- dead and frightened my betrothed away with such intensity that his father would kill me for frightening him so. And then Gondor would declare war for the murder of their future king-*
His thoughts came to an abrupt halt as his brain suddenly caught up with him. His reflection! He whirled around (nearly losing his balance in the process), holding his breath in dreaded realization... only to see the same white-haired, wrinkled old man of about one hundred years old stare back at him.
With a cry of fury he turned and headed for the stables. Everything was falling apart; first an unexpected (and very unwanted) marriage was thrown at him before an equally unwanted coronation, and now he was old! It didn't matter to him how it happened-he was fairly certain it was another of the twins' 'brilliant' plans- he simply wanted it reversed. But not yet. Now he had to get away, to leave behind a place of madness and frustration, to be no one but a common beggar man, before once again being Aragorn.
Reaching the stables, he grabbed his horse, saddling her (albeit in movements much more slow and forced than usual), and mounting, he spared one last glance at his father's halls. "When I get back and reverse this spell..." He muttered angrily, and Menya snorted at his harsh tone. "Not you, Menya, I'm not angry with you." It took a few more minutes to calm the horse enough, but once she was calm and walking toward the forest he allowed himself to finish his threat.
*They'll wish they had never been born. Imagine that-making me to both look and feel like a ninety-year old man!* So upset was he that he failed to notice the sudden silence of the forest, the nervousness of his horse, and the peering eyes that watched his progress. It was only when a black arrow-one coated with poison and the stench of orcs- whistled past his ear that he became aware of the danger.
But he was so close to Imladris! Orcs had never before ventured so near an Elven realm, had they? He didn't know, and at that moment he really didn't care. Ducking as another arrow whizzed past, he gave a sharp tug on Menya's reigns. "Back to Imladris-now!"
With a shrill cry of rage, Menya turned, swiftly avoiding yet another volley or arrows, and Estel's nervousness grew. This hiding, this method of striking from the shadows was not usual orc behavior. his thoughts were interrupted as the next arrow found its mark. Slamming into his right shoulder, it had its intended effect and Menya began to slow, desperately trying to keep her rider from falling.
But it was too late. "Go, Menya," Estel whispered as his consciousness left him. "Find Ada." And then the ground came rushing up to meet him and he knew no more.
* ~*~*~*~*
Acting purely on instinct, Legolas threw himself to the ground in a tight roll. Ignoring the feel of an orc' blade passing over his ear-that had been entirely too close-he sprang. Unsheathing his twin knives as he moved to block a blow was easy and automatic, and he allowed his gaze to quickly search for more danger. He spotted it almost immediately in the form of a circle, one that surrounded him. It was moving in now, hoping to trap him and catch him unaware-three orcs behind him, weapons raised, and two on each side-but they greatly underestimated him.
Or did they? With no escape route, no trees or sturdy buildings nearby, he would be hard pressed to defeat them all. Indeed, it was almost impossible! Fighting nine orcs at a time was foolish and asking for death, but he had no choice. The members of his patrol were occupied and fighting for their own lives; he could receive no help from them.
But maybe he didn't need help. An idea was formulating in his mind, one that was both risky and dangerous, but if it worked he would free. It was simple, really, so simple he nearly overlooked it, but the solution was to break the circle.
And then there was no more time for thought. Elven instincts screamed at him, warning him of the numerous blades that were coming from multiple directions, and he simply reacted. Dodging all blows, he taunted at the orcs in his mother tongue. He knew it was a foolish move, one that would only result in angering the enemy, and for that goal he aimed. If he could distract them long enough, make them angry enough to simply act, then he had a chance. If not....
The orcs were close now, so close he could almost feel their weapons pierce his skin, yet his face remained stony and passive. *Almost there, almost..*
Now! Thought fled as he twirled, sweeping both knives in a wide arc in hopes the orcs would strike back.
He wasn't disappointed. Almost simultaneously the circle raised their weapons and brought them down for the killing blow... only to find their quarry gone.
Realization struck too little too late and the circle, unable to halt their momentum, struck each other down. The sight of all nine orcs falling under their own stupidity was enough to make Legolas grin. He had timed it closely-almost too closely, for the roll beneath the orcs' legs had almost been too slow. With a twist of his neck Legolas could see the tear in his tunic, a tunic now splattered lightly with blood, and he sighed. The wound was not serious but his patrol would insist on mothering him until they reached Imladris.
A cry of pain interrupted his thoughts and his head jerked, searching. There! Backed against an unstable building-a barn?- Taurur and Elwynian were about to be over run. And then he was running, running more quickly than he thought himself capable, and he could only hope that it would be fast enough. But he wasn't, and Elwynian was cut down before his very eyes. He screamed then, enraged beyond comprehension, but he couldn't dwell on such thoughts-not now, not when the rest of his company needed him.
He watched as Taurur raised his long knife, watched as his friend blocked one blow only to narrowly miss being hit by another, and he understood. None of his company would survive much longer for these orcs were strange. Venturing out during broad daylight, striking in ways that suggested they possessed an actual amount of intelligence, and the strength in numbers was a deadly combination. If the fight lasted much longer Legolas would have no choice but to call a retreat. It was a difficult decision, one he hoped he wouldn't need to make, but he was fully prepared to do so if necessary.
Skidding to a halt, Legolas swiftly took down first one orc and then another. He was still desperate to reach Taurur and was very close... there! Breaking through the orcs at last, he quickly drew to a halt next to his guardian. With the blackened barn at his back and only a few orcs in front, he allowed himself to survey the situation quickly. Most of his patrol was still fighting, scattered here and there throughout the village's remains, but there were a few elven bodies among the dead. Dwarfed by far, however, was the number of slain orcs, and it appeared as if the fighting was beginning to fade. With this realization came new hope, and he called out, hoping his voice could be heard above the noise. Apparently it was, for the remaining elves put forth a fresh burst of strength, and shortly after all orcs lay dead.
They had won. But the victory had come at a high and difficult price. Legolas moved forward, intent on gathering his patrol together when he tripped. Hands shot out to catch him and he sagged into the support gratefully. Once he was certain he could stand on his own, Legolas moved away, shooting Taurur a grateful glance as he did so, only to freeze. Elwynian. He had tripped over the body of Elwynian. She lay flat on her back, eyes staring at the sun in a clouded gaze. Sighing in painful regret, Legolas gently closed her eyes and saluted her respectfully. Glancing around he saw the remaining members of the patrol taking care of both the village's dead and the dead elves, and he closed his eyes tightly.
The battle was one. But at a hard price indeed.
* * * * *
Whew! I'm finally done with that chapter! Sorry it's so short, but I just wanted to get this out... and sorry about the long delay in updating; first my muse left, then my aunt had a heart attack and died, and now my uncle has cancer and is in the hospital. So real life has sucked lately. But thank you so much to my reviewers! You're the whole reason I continued this! I had actually abandoned it until I kept getting encouragement, so thank you! I know it's been a while since I last updated, so if people are still interested in this story please review or email me! Pretty please? Let me know what you think, and if you still want me to continue this!