A/N: *high, nervous squeaky voice* Um…you want to know something? You guys really scare me. Lol. *normal voice* Thanks to all my reviewers for the wonderful reviews. Honestly, I never expected to have this many of them, and good ones at that! I'm nervous (and scared!) 'cause I know I'm only a mediocre writer who always makes mistakes. But you people are really encouraging. Thanks.
Btw, I won't be able to update this fic till the end of next week, because of exams. I'm sorry. *mumbles to myself* Yeah, right, like anyone would miss this fic…
The Tale of an Orc Three: Concerns of a BrotherUtíraiel laid on the ground in a swoon. The moon waxed, moving higher overhead, and the night grew colder. Dew started to form on the grass, and their cool wetness woke the girl.
She stirred and groaned. The blade wound had became a throb as she had lain in a daze, but now that she moved, fresh fire burned in it, and she felt tears come to her eyes.
She stirred and groaned. The blade wound had became a throb as she had lain in a daze, but now that she moved, fresh fire burned in it, and she felt tears come to her eyes.
She planted the staff firmly in the ground, and dragged herself up, gasping as she felt fresh blood flow down her arm. It frightened her that she could lose so much blood with just a small movement. She had to reach home, had to get to her brother.
But where was home?
Utíraiel forced herself to remain still, to listen and to smell. She shifted a little, both from the pain and from her anxiousness to move, just move. But no! If she walked in the direction of Ossiriand, many days would pass ere someone found her. She would have bled to death, or mayhap her assailant would return, and she would be dead as well.
A breeze blew on her face, and with that came the faint scent of the beech. Utíraiel turned towards the direction where the wind blew from. Now that she had a direction, she hurried on, eager to reach the safety of Brethil, and of home.
***
Alkaré heard a soft hoot from below his tree-house. There was silence for a moment, and another hoot came, softer and weaker than the first. He rose hastily and leaned out from the hole that served as a window, and saw a dark figure at the base of his tree.
In worry, he deftly climbed down the rope ladder. "Utíraiel!" He exclaimed in a harsh whisper. "Why did you tarry this night? You had father and mother worried! And so was I!" The hand that grabbed her wrist came away wet from her arm. "You are hurt!"
The girl hissed and sagged against her brother. In the thin shafts of the silvery rays of Ithil, he could see that her face was wet as well, but with water. Tears. He realized. She was crying.
"What did you tell mother and father?" Utíraiel asked tiredly, weak from the blood loss.
"I sent word that you came to stay with me," Alkaré answered. He held her in his arms as he climbed up the ladder with the practiced skill of an Elf-friend; though he had not the nimbleness of the Elves, he was strong, and well taught by Finrod. Once in his house, he cleansed her hurt by lamp-light, and placed healing leaves on her wound.
"What happened?"
Utíraiel shook her head, though she trembled, and coughed, placing a hand on her neck.
Alkaré knew his sister well, and removed her hand from her neck. He saw the harsh red marks of a large hand on her skin, and fear and anger gripped his heart that she was assailed thus.
"Sister, tell me what had happened." His voice was firm.
"Nay!" Utíraiel said, and her voice wavered. "Not yet. Do not ask me again, Alkaré. I will tell you when I will." She looked at him, and her eyes were tired, frightened, and confused, though he knew not why she should be puzzled. "Please, brother."
He gathered her in his arms and leaned back against the trunk of his tree, careful not to hurt her. "I will tell Haleth to increase the border guards. Sleep well, sister."
Utíraiel nodded. "My thanks. Good night, brother." She closed her eyes, and was disappointed to see no change from gloom to darkness. O! Curse her blindness! She trembled again, and her brother held her more tightly.
As sleep came upon her, she wondered with fear and puzzlement what her assailant looked like, and why he had cried as he had attacked her.
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Well, yet another horrible and short chapter by me, but I hope you enjoyed it. Btw, I thought I should explain what Utíraiel's name means. I formed it from Sindarin…and hopefully, it's correct and doesn't sound like a MS's name.
Ú= negative meaning; not possessing
tíra= (to) see
iel= shortened form of "iell" meaning "daughter"
So, what I wished to accomplish with the name is "Daughter of Un-sight." Okay. Weird, I know.