Chapter 14 Reviews:
Hel – Portal or Hidden door? Neither! Trust me – all will be revealed in time! I haven't forgotten about all of those niggling little details (i.e. how Grôltakh got his nickname, the penalty of the Old Portals, and now how Ragnäkah and the nameless one escaped), but I'm afraid I might take a long time before an explanation comes along. You're right – those two do have more luck than they deserve, but it's always the way in life – those that have the most luck are usually the ones who least deserve it. It would be interesting to see their reactions when they realise that they are alone in Moria with all of those Moria orcs… but sadly, that's not the way the story goes. ~.~ Well, read on to find out more.
~Chapter 15~
Ragnäkah felt himself falling through darkness, himself becoming more and more a part of it. He could sense the nameless one's fear, and his hands were writhing about madly, in search for something to stop the fall. Is this… the void? Ragnäkah thought, emotion torn from him, only emptiness. Back in the armoury, he thought he knew what it was like for time to slow down when the creatures began to advance on the two of them, but this was the real thing. Time had slowed. Nothing could compare. He clutched the old dusty whip in his hand. His arms and legs were limply hanging above him, the amulet around his neck being pulled away from his body by the 'force' of the fall. The stone inset into the amulet was glowing, but its light did not pierce the darkness. A thousand shards of thoughts entered his mind – where were they? How did they get here? How were they to get out again? But one word was clear amongst the muddle in his head: Grôltakh… and with this one unclouded thought, the darkness swirled into shapes, and time seemed to resume…
*
"But what if we get t' Minas Tirith and find that there's no one there – no allies, I mean?" Yutshrug asked Grôltakh.
"We will dwell on that in the mornin' – right now I want t' get some sleep, and it'll probably be the most that we're likely to get for a long while, so I wouldn't spend so much time talkin' an' more time sleepin'," Grôltakh growled in rely, turning and walking away from his friend. Yutshrug had woken Grôltakh up specifically to ask that one question! Why couldn't it have waited until the morning? And yet he had to admit it was an amazingly intelligent question – coming from Yutshrug. What if they were too early? Then they would all be slaughtered by the archers on the walls. And if they were too late? Then it could go two ways. The outcome depended upon the victor. One of the branches in the trees moved abruptly – something that Grôltakh had come to recognise as the movement of a person. He drew his sword, whilst Yutshrug stood there tentatively, not daring to move a muscle. He watched the branches for more movement, but there was none. Slowly, he put the sword away and let out a long and ragged breath. It was probably another orc. These ghosting movements were perhaps more imagination than threat; he had been on edge since entering Moria, and now that he had a chance to relax, he was not using it to his advantage.
Yutshrug sensed most of Grôltakh's tension leave his body, and so he picked up his argument once more.
"But what if-" Yutshrug's sentence was cut short as two orcs fell out of the sky right above his head and landed right on top of him. Grôltakh turned around, anger seeping into his voice.
"Didn't I just tell you to-" He gaped at the pile of orcs on the ground consisting of Yutshrug, the nameless orc, and Ragnäkah. "What the fuck? How did you get here! We left you back in Moria!"
"Nice t' see you too!" Ragnäkah mumbled weakly as a retort. He looked around him, considered Grôltakh's words, and when he could not come to an easy conclusion, he shrugged.
"It's all right – I'm okay!" Yutshrug's muffled voice said from under the two orcs.
"That was great timin'…" the nameless orc muttered, shaking his head. He looked up above him and stared, as if searching for a hole or a faint remnant of anything that they could have possibly fallen out from. There was nothing. As far as he could see, they had both fallen out of plain air. But whatever had happened, the nameless one was sure that none of it was because of him. "Hey Ragnäkah, don't think that you could magic us up a nice dinner too, eh?" Ragnäkah pounded his fist on top of the younger orc's head; he'd had enough of him in the mines. Grôltakh put on his best scowl and said: "If you two are finished fightin', I order you t' get t' sleep. And I wouldn't think 'bout disobeying my orders if I were you – there are no crevices around here t' hide down, to escape my wrath!" Ragnäkah grinned widely at Grôltakh, acknowledging his 'signs of affection', before tilting his head back and collapsing asleep where he lay – on top of Yutshrug. The nameless one chuckled at the orc next to him, and he tried to disconnect himself from every single one of Yutshrug's piercings. Grôltakh sneered at the two of them before turning away and smiling to himself secretly; his friend and advisor was back.
~End of Chapter 15~
A/N: Before anyone asks, Ragnäkah is thinking about Grôltakh because he thinks his friend would know what to do in this situation, not because he was in love with Grôltakh or anything like that, just in case anyone thought that was the way Ragnäkah's mind was leaning.