A/N: This chapter is gory. You have been warned.
CHAPTER 23 - Nothing Else Matters
As he ran through the trees, Legolas felt his legs become heavier and heavier, feeling like lead weights. The wounds where the orc had stabbed him and where the arrow had pierced his arm were throbbing, becoming more painful by the second.
The young prince stumbled as his knife wound became too much to bear, and he fell to his knees, clutching at the gaping hole in his skin. Black blood flowed over his hands. Had the prince rested, it would have stopped bleeding, but as it was it had become worse. The same was true of where the arrow had pierced his arm. Legolas gasped at the pain and bit his lip.
Dropping down beside their brother on to the leafy floor, Astaler and Oroweth put their arms around Legolas, trying to help him to his feet, trying to ignore their own wounds. The youngest of the princes just flopped down again, unable to stand.
"Legolas, get up!" gasped Oroweth, his hand gripping Legolas' once fine, black tunic, now ruined beyond repair from being stained with blood, ripped by orcish weapons and torn in the retreat through the forest by branches, brambles and thorns in the rush to get away from their captors.
"I cannot," moaned Legolas, gasping for breath, "The wound . . .it hurts . . . so much," his words came through broken and ragged as breathing became more difficult. He clenched his teeth together in pain
"I will carry you," said Oroweth, again hauling the young prince to his feet. On the other side of Legolas, Astaler shook his head.
"Nay brother, you cannot carry little Greenleaf - you hardly have enough energy for yourself! Besides, your wounds are almost as bad as his are. Besides, I am bigger than you are, even if you are older."
Again, Legolas groaned in pain. Ahead of them Elladan, Nuryávië, Thellind and Nilwethion stood waiting. Thellind leant against a tree, tore off a strip of his tunic and tied it around the arrow wound in his leg where he had been pierced by the orc arrow. He had begun to shiver and shake, and the gash was threatening to become septic.
Giving in with a low growl, Oroweth stood back and let Astaler scoop up the whimpering Legolas, holding the prince as if he were a baby. Legolas clung on to Astalers shoulders, making the elder prince grind his teeth together in pain and almost drop Legolas. Oroweth glared at him.
"You got an arrow in your shoulder in the caves," he said. Astaler shook his messy, dark hair out of his face.
"'Tis just a scratch," he replied, and then swiftly changing the subject he added, "We cannot linger here. Go and help Thellind."
Looking doubtfully at his younger brother, Astaler moved over to Thellind, who was limping badly due to his leg wound, and wrapped the silent princes' arm around his shoulder and then his own arm around Thellind's waist to give him support.
Suddenly, Nilwethion gave a small, bitter laugh and wrapped his black cloak around his bare torso, his tunic having been ripped away from him by an orc when they were torturing him before they had reached the caves. His leggings and cloak were in a similar condition to Legolas' clothes, blood stained and ragged, though they were once one of the finest outfits in Mirkwood.
"Look at us!" he cried, "Between us we must make a whole person!"
He then turned around and walked quickly off in to the trees, followed by his brothers and Elladan. Running had become impossible, considering the injuries they had all sustained somehow or another, and jogging would only have irritated the wounds more.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The party of elves rode quietly through the forest of Mirkwood, ridding eastward. The hoods of their midnight blue cloaks hid their faces, and when they spoke, it was in hushed voices. The Mirkwood elves marched along side the horses of the Imladris elves, some climbing nimbly through the trees on either side of the dark path, not realising that their pregnant queen and princess were only meters away.
Calensil still rode in front of the Lady Celebrian on the beautiful white palfrey. The small elfling clutched Lin the teddy bear to her chest, having decided to take him with her before leaving so she could mend his ear. If the ear was sewn back on, she reasoned, everything would be alright.
Her fingers clutched nervously at the ancient toy as her blue eyes roamed around, searching the forest. Something in the forest was making her nervous. Her finely tuned senses were screaming, though what at she did not know. The small elf tugged on the silver sleeve of Celebrian, and from under the hood the elf smiled down at her in a motherly manner.
"Yes, little one?"
"What is coming?"
Celebrian looked around at the forest. Not being used to the darkness of Mirkwood, she could not hear what the trees were whispering about, or how much more potent the evil was than usual.
The beautiful wife of Elrond opened her mouth to answer, when she was interrupted by a yell from one of the Mirkwood guards behind her.
The elves all snapped their heads around, just in time to see one of the elves that had been travelling through the trees fall from the branch with a dull thud, landing on his front. His limbs were sprawled on the ground, one twisted at a strange angle, and his hair covered his face, spread out around him like a halo.
An arrow was embedded in his back.
For a few moments, pandemonium reigned. The maidens began sobbing hysterically and screaming out, whilst the warriors of Imladris scrambled to find their weapons in the baggage. Captain Silnan began shouting out orders to his own warriors that were carried out within seconds of their issue. Five more Mirkwood elves dropped dead, also pierced by the deadly arrows.
Then, almost as suddenly as it had begun, the panic came to an abrupt stop. Silence filled the forest as grinning orcs stepped out from the shadows and appeared in the treetops. Urshak strode out from the paths, twirling a scimitar in his one hand. A black cloak flowed out behind him and his armour gleamed in the half-light. His mouth widened in to what could be called a smile, showing every single one of his yellowing teeth. On one of his fingers of his sword hand rested a ring.
"Lord Elrond," he said, his voice guttural and smug, "We ain't met, but I'm . . . acquainted . . . with yer son. One of the two. I hear ye've got twins. Quaint. But our fight ain't with yew. Tell yer nice li'l friends t' put down their weapons and we'll let yer live. Oh yeah, and we want the queen and the princess. We know ye've got them, so bring 'em out."
Lord Elrond looked down at the smelly orc with disgust and hatred. He wrinkled his nose and let out a small huff of disdain. The elf lord clenched his fist around the hilt, moved his horse up beside the orc, and then slashed the sword down, cutting away the orcs' cloak. Urshak raised an eyebrow and took a few steps back, looking at Elrond with something akin to mirth.
"I'll take that as a no then, shall I?"
He clicked his ugly fingers together, and the orcs attacked the elves again ruthlessly. As Elrond reared his horse, two burly orcs jumped at him from the trees, knocking him to the ground. Scrambling to his feet, Elrond found himself fighting for his life.
"Celebrian!" he shouted, hoping his wife would hear him, "Get the maidens out of here!"
Giving a nod to show she heard the command, Celebrian turned her horse around and called out to the distressed maidens of her household. The ones who heard her gathered around the elvish lady, galloping after her back down the path and around the next bend . . .
. . .Only to find their path blocked by more orcs. Turning around to call for the warriors, the maidens found that more orcs had come in behind them. A few orcs stepped out of the trees, trapping the Imladris ladies. The younger, more experienced ones began crying again and sobbing hysterically.
From where she sat, confused, on her horse, queen Imlammthien looked around at the orcs. A dim light began to shine through her madness - a memory of something that had happened what seemed like years ago. The orcs had killed her babies. The more she looked at them, the more she was sure of them. Rage began to bubble inside her. The queen flicked the reigns of her horse and began to ride forwards, but a near by maiden pulled her back.
Urshak swaggered forwards, still twirling his scimitar in his hand, and still wearing the smug look of triumph on his misshapen face. As soon as Elrond had been knocked from his horse, Urshak had stolen away from the path in to the dark shadow of the trees and taken a short cut to where he knew the ladies of Imladris would be. Some of his 'boys' had already been positioned there in the shadows, read and waiting.
"Ye know," he said, in a conversational tone, "Yew elves are too predictable f' yer own good. Now give us the queen an' the princess, an' we'll let yer live. Be a good elfy now."
Remembering how Urshak had hinted at 'knowing' her son, Celebrian threw a scowl at Urshak to rival that of her husbands'. She pulled back the hood of her cloak and looked haughtily down her nose at the orc standing before her. Wrapping her slender arms around the quivering Calensil, who was still sitting in front of her, the elven woman made her answer.
"Never."
Urshak laughed loudly, and his orcs joined in. To the maidens trapped in the centre of the orcs, their laughing sounded like a bell. The branches of the trees shook, shaking away many of their leaves to settle on the path below like a dappled carpet.
"You killed my babies!"
Urshak stopped laughing abruptly and looked at the speaker. Her hood had fallen down, revealing a pale, blonde elf with bright blue eyes and an equally bright dagger in her delicate hands. Her eyes radiated with fury and, Urshak realised, insanity. This was the queen. He tilted his head, being unable to raise an eyebrow, as he had none.
"Arshin," he flicked his hand at the orc standing next to him, holding an ugly bow. The orc nodded and raised his bow. Urshak continued, carelessly.
"Now, that's where yer wrong. They ain't dead yet, but they will be in a year or two. When me and my boys finish 'aving our little bit a' fun with 'em, see?"
The queen raised her dagger to fling at Urshak when she dropped it and screamed in pain. A black arrow was sticking through the base of her hand, having gone in one side and out the other. Red blood began to flow down her wrist and arm, staining her long, blue sleeves. The horse reared, sending Imlammthien on to the ground with another cry of pain. Orcs swiftly grabbed hold of her arms, dress and hair and pulled her roughly to Urshak.
They held the struggling queen down as Urshak, watched by the stunned and horrified Imladris ladies, drew his scimitar across her womb. Again, the queen screamed in pain, writhing in the grip of the orcs, now howling with laughter and delight.
Urshak plunged his hand in to the open womb and dragged out the foetus of princess Hollinethir, laughing all the while. Many of the maidens screamed and fainted, or began sobbing hysterically in to the shoulders of their comrades. One of those to scream was Calensil.
"Nana!" she howled, tears streaming down her cheeks, "Nana! No!" the small princess scrabbled to get to her mother, scratching and biting to make Celebrian let her go, but the lady of Imladris would have none of it. Still holding the newly dead foetus, Urshak began to walk slowly forwards towards the struggling princess. Then a voice issued from the shadows, deadly and silky.
"That is our naneth and sister you just killed, Urshak."
The orc swung around, his large, ugly mouth dropping open as he saw seven figures emerge from the shadows, each one holding a sharp, glittering weapon. The orc narrowed his eyes and hissed as he realised who his new advisories were.
"That was not very nice now, was it?"
The princes and Elladan swung their blades in a style similar to Urshak had used when he had swung his scimitar around not long ago.
"You!" he hissed, shocked.
"Us," replied Oroweth, his voice a growl, "And now we are going to kill you."
Urshak hunched his back and hissed at the princes.
"Kill 'em!" he screamed, "Kill 'em all!"
Arshin raised his bow and loosed an arrow at Nuryávië. At such close range, he could not miss. The arrow struck Nuryávië in the chest, but the prince did not even blanch. He just looked down at the arrow, and then up at Arshin. The orc dropped his bow, staggered backwards, and then ran off in to the forest, closely followed by three more terrified orcs.
"Hard to kill a dead elf, Urshak," said Nilwethion. His voice was almost a whisper. Again, Urshak hissed.
An orc jumped at Elladan, his sword raised, but Elladan turned swiftly and beheaded the attacker with a single stroke. Another two orcs ran off, howling and hissing.
The seven elves circled around Urshak, scowls and glares covering their faces.
"You were going to kill us slowly, Urshak," said Elladan, "But you missed your chance. We do not like that. Goodbye, Urshak."
With that, he stabbed Urshak in the chest. Another sword pierced Urshak from behind, cutting right through his flesh and emerging on the other side. Urshak felt more lades cutting in to him, being dragged out, and then being rammed in to his flesh again.
Had he been able to, Urshak would have fallen to the ground, covering it with his blood. As it was, the seven sharp, elven blades kept him upright as the elves stabbed him again and again and again.
At last, the young princes and their friend took a step back and let Urshak fall slowly to the ground. The adrenalin that had kept them upright left them, leaving them breathless, deadly tired, and not strong enough for them to lift a sword, even if not lifting it meant death. Oroweth turned to the other orcs.
"Go," he hissed.
Without needing to be told twice, the orcs fled the path and ran in to the forest. In the blink of an eye, there were no live orcs to be seen, not even in the dappled darkness away from the path. Down the path, out of sight, the elves could still hear the skirmish with the orcs who did not yet know that their leader had fallen.
Calensil jumped down from the horse, and out of Celebrians grasp. She hurried over to her brothers and grabbed Legolas in to a hug. The prince gasped in pain, but wrapped his arms around the sobbing elfling.
Slowly, the fair lady Celebrian dismounted her own horse and stumbled over to her son. They stared at each other for a moment, before she touched his filthy, blood and dirt covered face. Her lower lip trembled, and then she flung her arms around the prince, holding him so tightly he could hardly breathe.
Stumbling over to their mother, the princes were aware of the eyes of the shocked maidens, who obviously did not understand what was going on. Nuryávië clenched his teeth and heaved the arrow out of his chest.
"It hit a rib," he muttered dully.
Thellind and Nilwethion dropped to the ground beside their dying mother, and tears escaped their eyes, slipping down their cheeks. Behind them, Nuryávië put his hand on Thellind's shoulder - partly as a comfort to his younger brother, but partly to keep himself from falling to the floor. Legolas and Calensil walked slowly to his side - Calensil still clutching Lin whose fur, what little of it there was left, was now blood stained, as was Calensil, after embracing Legolas. The prince himself was holding Calensil close to him protectively. Oroweth and Astaler walked up on the other side of Nilwethion, Astaler holding the foetus of his smallest sister in his arms.
They did not notice as Celebrian finally pulled away from the embrace with her son and wave her hand at the other elves, indicating to them to leave the royal family in peace. Taking the hint, the elves turned their horses around and went further down the path so they were out of sight of the Mirkwood elves, but not close enough to the skirmish to be harmed.
The queen, still alive but only just, raised a shaky hand to Thellind's face, and a small smile crossed her white face.
"My . . . my Thellind? My little baby?"
Thellind nodded, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around Imlammthien, letting her head rest on his arm.
"I am dead then," she whispered, her voice hardly audible. Behind Thellind, Nuryávië choked back another sob. "I am dead," she repeated. "Where are the others? My babies?"
Thellind cracked open his lips.
"They are here nana," he whispered, "All around us."
Nilwethion took hold of his naneths' other cold, shivering hand, salty tears falling down his face.
"I love you, my darlings," she whispered.
"I love you too, nana," replied Thellind.
Then she was gone.
Her dead hand slipped from Thellind's face and flopped across her still body. Astaler threw back his head and screamed, and then dropped to his knees, his body shaking as he sobbed uncontrollably. The others bowed their heads, and Calensil turned and buried her face in Legolas' ragged tunic, letting Lin drop to the forest floor.
They were aloud no more time to mourn, however, as an orc, retreating down the path from the other skirmish, crashed down the path. Seeing the princes, he stopped and roared, making them look up. Calensil clutched at Legolas in terror and screamed loudly in a high-pitched wail. With a snarl, the orc raised his blade and flung it at the princess.
It hit her in the heart, cutting her scream off abruptly. The tiny princess slumped forward in Legolas' arms, dead before she hit the ground.
The princes froze. They did not have enough energy between them to even bruise the orc as it lumbered towards them, nor did they have enough energy to run away. As it drew another sword to kill Thellind with, the young prince did not even raise an arm to defend himself with.
The orc never made the kill though, as an arrow appeared as if from nowhere through its chest. With a surprised look, the twisted creature fell backwards with a thud, its arm still raised for the kill.
Lord Elrond stood there with a large bow in his hand. He lowered it slowly and took in the scene.
"Forgive us," whispered Oroweth. Elrond blinked and stared at the princes.
"Pardon?"
"Forgive us!" moaned Nuryávië, "Tell us we are forgiven Elrond, please! We beg you to forgive us!"
The lord of Imladris stepped backwards and looked at the princes. Legolas had dropped to his knees and was cradling his dead sister in his hands. The others were all staring at him, desperate looks in their eyes.
"Why?"
"We killed them! It is our fault they died!" cried Astaler. The confused Elrond shook his head, looking at Thellind who was shaking violently and gasping for breath.
"You did not kill them, prince Astaler," he said softly, "It was not your fault."
"Ai, but it was! If we had only got here moments earlier, neither of them would be dead. If we had not asked you to take them to Imladris, they would not even have been on the path! Please Elrond, please forgive us! We did not mean to kill them."
The ancient elf lord walked over to them and knelt down beside Astaler. He looked at the filthy, bedraggled, bloodstained, ragged princes and said quietly, "It was not you, prince of Mirkwood. You are blameless."
Astaler looked as though he was about to argue, but instead he turned his head aside and wretched, coughing up black blood. He tried to cover his mouth, but the blood continued to spurt up through his throat and through his already blood covered fingers. As Elrond leapt back to avoid the blood, the other princes began to bring up blood as well, coughing and spluttering.
As Captain Silnan jogged up to Elrond, his face falling in dismay as his eyes took in the dead queen and princess and the wretched princes he bowed his head. More elves of Mirkwood followed him, weapons still in their hands from the battle.
At last, the princes seemed to stop coughing up the vile black blood, and Nilwethion looked up at Silnan and Elrond, and then back to the blood covering his hands.
"Our blood," he whispered, seeing one of his wounds, "It . . . it is red again!"
Then he slumped backwards, unconscious.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: this was a very long, emotional chapter. Obviously. It was very hard for me to write - probably the hardest thing I've written for ff.net before, even though I have killed various other characters. I kept getting tears in my eyes in the gut wrenching bits, which is very unlike me. Please leave a review. Remember, I love all reviews, but I love getting ramblers and constructive criticism even more. Choc chip 'n' cherry cookies for everybody who reviews. I'm so sorry Calensil; I'm so sorry Imlammthien! Please forgive me! I'm going to go off and mope and feel sorry for myself now.
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY
LEXIE02 ~~ I take pride in my cliffhangers!
PIRATE-CHICHA ~ oh but I LOVE long rambling reviews and long boring rants! They're wonderful!
RAL ~~ well Calensil was about 7 until I killed her, Legolas is about 15 ish, Nilwethion is 17ish and Thellind is 18 or 19 ish. The other three are all adults. The younger two princes are at that very awkward stage where they think they're older than they are, and their parents think they're younger than they are.
JUKIA WOLFCALL ~~ you're going to hate me now, aren't you? Did I put enough description in?
MOONMIST ~~ sorry honey, Déjà Vu is going sometime in the next fortnight. Astaler knows they didn't kill them all before, but now the princes all think they killed their naneth and sister. Poor kiddies.
LOTRSEER3350 ~~ I get it now! Are my stories really that transparent? Um, more combat scenes. *Starts sniffling again*
LITTLE WITCH ~~ you can kiss them all if you really, really want to, but you might have to queue up for Legolas.
SARA ~~ Bec is your sister? I didn't *have* to leave you on the edge of your seat, its just fun!
IMBEFANIEL ~~ I get motion sickness very easily too. Especially on a boat or in the back of a car. That sounds like a very, very bad day. Well actually, they're all extremely badly hurt. Except maybe Elladan.
COOLIO ~~ glad to see my cooking is appreciated!
LADY LARVLE OF MIRKWOOD ~~ sanity? Hang on while I find a dictionary . . .
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ why thank you.
ELVENWITCH2 ~~ *beams* thank you! Wow, major compliment. Only, Treehuggers fics are much better than mine.
EBONY FALCON ~~ eurgh, school is evil. I don't like school. They just make you do the same stuff over and over again until you know it off by heart. We may as well be chimps with pens. *I stole that quote, it isn't mine*
CHAPTER 23 - Nothing Else Matters
As he ran through the trees, Legolas felt his legs become heavier and heavier, feeling like lead weights. The wounds where the orc had stabbed him and where the arrow had pierced his arm were throbbing, becoming more painful by the second.
The young prince stumbled as his knife wound became too much to bear, and he fell to his knees, clutching at the gaping hole in his skin. Black blood flowed over his hands. Had the prince rested, it would have stopped bleeding, but as it was it had become worse. The same was true of where the arrow had pierced his arm. Legolas gasped at the pain and bit his lip.
Dropping down beside their brother on to the leafy floor, Astaler and Oroweth put their arms around Legolas, trying to help him to his feet, trying to ignore their own wounds. The youngest of the princes just flopped down again, unable to stand.
"Legolas, get up!" gasped Oroweth, his hand gripping Legolas' once fine, black tunic, now ruined beyond repair from being stained with blood, ripped by orcish weapons and torn in the retreat through the forest by branches, brambles and thorns in the rush to get away from their captors.
"I cannot," moaned Legolas, gasping for breath, "The wound . . .it hurts . . . so much," his words came through broken and ragged as breathing became more difficult. He clenched his teeth together in pain
"I will carry you," said Oroweth, again hauling the young prince to his feet. On the other side of Legolas, Astaler shook his head.
"Nay brother, you cannot carry little Greenleaf - you hardly have enough energy for yourself! Besides, your wounds are almost as bad as his are. Besides, I am bigger than you are, even if you are older."
Again, Legolas groaned in pain. Ahead of them Elladan, Nuryávië, Thellind and Nilwethion stood waiting. Thellind leant against a tree, tore off a strip of his tunic and tied it around the arrow wound in his leg where he had been pierced by the orc arrow. He had begun to shiver and shake, and the gash was threatening to become septic.
Giving in with a low growl, Oroweth stood back and let Astaler scoop up the whimpering Legolas, holding the prince as if he were a baby. Legolas clung on to Astalers shoulders, making the elder prince grind his teeth together in pain and almost drop Legolas. Oroweth glared at him.
"You got an arrow in your shoulder in the caves," he said. Astaler shook his messy, dark hair out of his face.
"'Tis just a scratch," he replied, and then swiftly changing the subject he added, "We cannot linger here. Go and help Thellind."
Looking doubtfully at his younger brother, Astaler moved over to Thellind, who was limping badly due to his leg wound, and wrapped the silent princes' arm around his shoulder and then his own arm around Thellind's waist to give him support.
Suddenly, Nilwethion gave a small, bitter laugh and wrapped his black cloak around his bare torso, his tunic having been ripped away from him by an orc when they were torturing him before they had reached the caves. His leggings and cloak were in a similar condition to Legolas' clothes, blood stained and ragged, though they were once one of the finest outfits in Mirkwood.
"Look at us!" he cried, "Between us we must make a whole person!"
He then turned around and walked quickly off in to the trees, followed by his brothers and Elladan. Running had become impossible, considering the injuries they had all sustained somehow or another, and jogging would only have irritated the wounds more.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
The party of elves rode quietly through the forest of Mirkwood, ridding eastward. The hoods of their midnight blue cloaks hid their faces, and when they spoke, it was in hushed voices. The Mirkwood elves marched along side the horses of the Imladris elves, some climbing nimbly through the trees on either side of the dark path, not realising that their pregnant queen and princess were only meters away.
Calensil still rode in front of the Lady Celebrian on the beautiful white palfrey. The small elfling clutched Lin the teddy bear to her chest, having decided to take him with her before leaving so she could mend his ear. If the ear was sewn back on, she reasoned, everything would be alright.
Her fingers clutched nervously at the ancient toy as her blue eyes roamed around, searching the forest. Something in the forest was making her nervous. Her finely tuned senses were screaming, though what at she did not know. The small elf tugged on the silver sleeve of Celebrian, and from under the hood the elf smiled down at her in a motherly manner.
"Yes, little one?"
"What is coming?"
Celebrian looked around at the forest. Not being used to the darkness of Mirkwood, she could not hear what the trees were whispering about, or how much more potent the evil was than usual.
The beautiful wife of Elrond opened her mouth to answer, when she was interrupted by a yell from one of the Mirkwood guards behind her.
The elves all snapped their heads around, just in time to see one of the elves that had been travelling through the trees fall from the branch with a dull thud, landing on his front. His limbs were sprawled on the ground, one twisted at a strange angle, and his hair covered his face, spread out around him like a halo.
An arrow was embedded in his back.
For a few moments, pandemonium reigned. The maidens began sobbing hysterically and screaming out, whilst the warriors of Imladris scrambled to find their weapons in the baggage. Captain Silnan began shouting out orders to his own warriors that were carried out within seconds of their issue. Five more Mirkwood elves dropped dead, also pierced by the deadly arrows.
Then, almost as suddenly as it had begun, the panic came to an abrupt stop. Silence filled the forest as grinning orcs stepped out from the shadows and appeared in the treetops. Urshak strode out from the paths, twirling a scimitar in his one hand. A black cloak flowed out behind him and his armour gleamed in the half-light. His mouth widened in to what could be called a smile, showing every single one of his yellowing teeth. On one of his fingers of his sword hand rested a ring.
"Lord Elrond," he said, his voice guttural and smug, "We ain't met, but I'm . . . acquainted . . . with yer son. One of the two. I hear ye've got twins. Quaint. But our fight ain't with yew. Tell yer nice li'l friends t' put down their weapons and we'll let yer live. Oh yeah, and we want the queen and the princess. We know ye've got them, so bring 'em out."
Lord Elrond looked down at the smelly orc with disgust and hatred. He wrinkled his nose and let out a small huff of disdain. The elf lord clenched his fist around the hilt, moved his horse up beside the orc, and then slashed the sword down, cutting away the orcs' cloak. Urshak raised an eyebrow and took a few steps back, looking at Elrond with something akin to mirth.
"I'll take that as a no then, shall I?"
He clicked his ugly fingers together, and the orcs attacked the elves again ruthlessly. As Elrond reared his horse, two burly orcs jumped at him from the trees, knocking him to the ground. Scrambling to his feet, Elrond found himself fighting for his life.
"Celebrian!" he shouted, hoping his wife would hear him, "Get the maidens out of here!"
Giving a nod to show she heard the command, Celebrian turned her horse around and called out to the distressed maidens of her household. The ones who heard her gathered around the elvish lady, galloping after her back down the path and around the next bend . . .
. . .Only to find their path blocked by more orcs. Turning around to call for the warriors, the maidens found that more orcs had come in behind them. A few orcs stepped out of the trees, trapping the Imladris ladies. The younger, more experienced ones began crying again and sobbing hysterically.
From where she sat, confused, on her horse, queen Imlammthien looked around at the orcs. A dim light began to shine through her madness - a memory of something that had happened what seemed like years ago. The orcs had killed her babies. The more she looked at them, the more she was sure of them. Rage began to bubble inside her. The queen flicked the reigns of her horse and began to ride forwards, but a near by maiden pulled her back.
Urshak swaggered forwards, still twirling his scimitar in his hand, and still wearing the smug look of triumph on his misshapen face. As soon as Elrond had been knocked from his horse, Urshak had stolen away from the path in to the dark shadow of the trees and taken a short cut to where he knew the ladies of Imladris would be. Some of his 'boys' had already been positioned there in the shadows, read and waiting.
"Ye know," he said, in a conversational tone, "Yew elves are too predictable f' yer own good. Now give us the queen an' the princess, an' we'll let yer live. Be a good elfy now."
Remembering how Urshak had hinted at 'knowing' her son, Celebrian threw a scowl at Urshak to rival that of her husbands'. She pulled back the hood of her cloak and looked haughtily down her nose at the orc standing before her. Wrapping her slender arms around the quivering Calensil, who was still sitting in front of her, the elven woman made her answer.
"Never."
Urshak laughed loudly, and his orcs joined in. To the maidens trapped in the centre of the orcs, their laughing sounded like a bell. The branches of the trees shook, shaking away many of their leaves to settle on the path below like a dappled carpet.
"You killed my babies!"
Urshak stopped laughing abruptly and looked at the speaker. Her hood had fallen down, revealing a pale, blonde elf with bright blue eyes and an equally bright dagger in her delicate hands. Her eyes radiated with fury and, Urshak realised, insanity. This was the queen. He tilted his head, being unable to raise an eyebrow, as he had none.
"Arshin," he flicked his hand at the orc standing next to him, holding an ugly bow. The orc nodded and raised his bow. Urshak continued, carelessly.
"Now, that's where yer wrong. They ain't dead yet, but they will be in a year or two. When me and my boys finish 'aving our little bit a' fun with 'em, see?"
The queen raised her dagger to fling at Urshak when she dropped it and screamed in pain. A black arrow was sticking through the base of her hand, having gone in one side and out the other. Red blood began to flow down her wrist and arm, staining her long, blue sleeves. The horse reared, sending Imlammthien on to the ground with another cry of pain. Orcs swiftly grabbed hold of her arms, dress and hair and pulled her roughly to Urshak.
They held the struggling queen down as Urshak, watched by the stunned and horrified Imladris ladies, drew his scimitar across her womb. Again, the queen screamed in pain, writhing in the grip of the orcs, now howling with laughter and delight.
Urshak plunged his hand in to the open womb and dragged out the foetus of princess Hollinethir, laughing all the while. Many of the maidens screamed and fainted, or began sobbing hysterically in to the shoulders of their comrades. One of those to scream was Calensil.
"Nana!" she howled, tears streaming down her cheeks, "Nana! No!" the small princess scrabbled to get to her mother, scratching and biting to make Celebrian let her go, but the lady of Imladris would have none of it. Still holding the newly dead foetus, Urshak began to walk slowly forwards towards the struggling princess. Then a voice issued from the shadows, deadly and silky.
"That is our naneth and sister you just killed, Urshak."
The orc swung around, his large, ugly mouth dropping open as he saw seven figures emerge from the shadows, each one holding a sharp, glittering weapon. The orc narrowed his eyes and hissed as he realised who his new advisories were.
"That was not very nice now, was it?"
The princes and Elladan swung their blades in a style similar to Urshak had used when he had swung his scimitar around not long ago.
"You!" he hissed, shocked.
"Us," replied Oroweth, his voice a growl, "And now we are going to kill you."
Urshak hunched his back and hissed at the princes.
"Kill 'em!" he screamed, "Kill 'em all!"
Arshin raised his bow and loosed an arrow at Nuryávië. At such close range, he could not miss. The arrow struck Nuryávië in the chest, but the prince did not even blanch. He just looked down at the arrow, and then up at Arshin. The orc dropped his bow, staggered backwards, and then ran off in to the forest, closely followed by three more terrified orcs.
"Hard to kill a dead elf, Urshak," said Nilwethion. His voice was almost a whisper. Again, Urshak hissed.
An orc jumped at Elladan, his sword raised, but Elladan turned swiftly and beheaded the attacker with a single stroke. Another two orcs ran off, howling and hissing.
The seven elves circled around Urshak, scowls and glares covering their faces.
"You were going to kill us slowly, Urshak," said Elladan, "But you missed your chance. We do not like that. Goodbye, Urshak."
With that, he stabbed Urshak in the chest. Another sword pierced Urshak from behind, cutting right through his flesh and emerging on the other side. Urshak felt more lades cutting in to him, being dragged out, and then being rammed in to his flesh again.
Had he been able to, Urshak would have fallen to the ground, covering it with his blood. As it was, the seven sharp, elven blades kept him upright as the elves stabbed him again and again and again.
At last, the young princes and their friend took a step back and let Urshak fall slowly to the ground. The adrenalin that had kept them upright left them, leaving them breathless, deadly tired, and not strong enough for them to lift a sword, even if not lifting it meant death. Oroweth turned to the other orcs.
"Go," he hissed.
Without needing to be told twice, the orcs fled the path and ran in to the forest. In the blink of an eye, there were no live orcs to be seen, not even in the dappled darkness away from the path. Down the path, out of sight, the elves could still hear the skirmish with the orcs who did not yet know that their leader had fallen.
Calensil jumped down from the horse, and out of Celebrians grasp. She hurried over to her brothers and grabbed Legolas in to a hug. The prince gasped in pain, but wrapped his arms around the sobbing elfling.
Slowly, the fair lady Celebrian dismounted her own horse and stumbled over to her son. They stared at each other for a moment, before she touched his filthy, blood and dirt covered face. Her lower lip trembled, and then she flung her arms around the prince, holding him so tightly he could hardly breathe.
Stumbling over to their mother, the princes were aware of the eyes of the shocked maidens, who obviously did not understand what was going on. Nuryávië clenched his teeth and heaved the arrow out of his chest.
"It hit a rib," he muttered dully.
Thellind and Nilwethion dropped to the ground beside their dying mother, and tears escaped their eyes, slipping down their cheeks. Behind them, Nuryávië put his hand on Thellind's shoulder - partly as a comfort to his younger brother, but partly to keep himself from falling to the floor. Legolas and Calensil walked slowly to his side - Calensil still clutching Lin whose fur, what little of it there was left, was now blood stained, as was Calensil, after embracing Legolas. The prince himself was holding Calensil close to him protectively. Oroweth and Astaler walked up on the other side of Nilwethion, Astaler holding the foetus of his smallest sister in his arms.
They did not notice as Celebrian finally pulled away from the embrace with her son and wave her hand at the other elves, indicating to them to leave the royal family in peace. Taking the hint, the elves turned their horses around and went further down the path so they were out of sight of the Mirkwood elves, but not close enough to the skirmish to be harmed.
The queen, still alive but only just, raised a shaky hand to Thellind's face, and a small smile crossed her white face.
"My . . . my Thellind? My little baby?"
Thellind nodded, tears streaming silently down his cheeks. He wrapped his arms around Imlammthien, letting her head rest on his arm.
"I am dead then," she whispered, her voice hardly audible. Behind Thellind, Nuryávië choked back another sob. "I am dead," she repeated. "Where are the others? My babies?"
Thellind cracked open his lips.
"They are here nana," he whispered, "All around us."
Nilwethion took hold of his naneths' other cold, shivering hand, salty tears falling down his face.
"I love you, my darlings," she whispered.
"I love you too, nana," replied Thellind.
Then she was gone.
Her dead hand slipped from Thellind's face and flopped across her still body. Astaler threw back his head and screamed, and then dropped to his knees, his body shaking as he sobbed uncontrollably. The others bowed their heads, and Calensil turned and buried her face in Legolas' ragged tunic, letting Lin drop to the forest floor.
They were aloud no more time to mourn, however, as an orc, retreating down the path from the other skirmish, crashed down the path. Seeing the princes, he stopped and roared, making them look up. Calensil clutched at Legolas in terror and screamed loudly in a high-pitched wail. With a snarl, the orc raised his blade and flung it at the princess.
It hit her in the heart, cutting her scream off abruptly. The tiny princess slumped forward in Legolas' arms, dead before she hit the ground.
The princes froze. They did not have enough energy between them to even bruise the orc as it lumbered towards them, nor did they have enough energy to run away. As it drew another sword to kill Thellind with, the young prince did not even raise an arm to defend himself with.
The orc never made the kill though, as an arrow appeared as if from nowhere through its chest. With a surprised look, the twisted creature fell backwards with a thud, its arm still raised for the kill.
Lord Elrond stood there with a large bow in his hand. He lowered it slowly and took in the scene.
"Forgive us," whispered Oroweth. Elrond blinked and stared at the princes.
"Pardon?"
"Forgive us!" moaned Nuryávië, "Tell us we are forgiven Elrond, please! We beg you to forgive us!"
The lord of Imladris stepped backwards and looked at the princes. Legolas had dropped to his knees and was cradling his dead sister in his hands. The others were all staring at him, desperate looks in their eyes.
"Why?"
"We killed them! It is our fault they died!" cried Astaler. The confused Elrond shook his head, looking at Thellind who was shaking violently and gasping for breath.
"You did not kill them, prince Astaler," he said softly, "It was not your fault."
"Ai, but it was! If we had only got here moments earlier, neither of them would be dead. If we had not asked you to take them to Imladris, they would not even have been on the path! Please Elrond, please forgive us! We did not mean to kill them."
The ancient elf lord walked over to them and knelt down beside Astaler. He looked at the filthy, bedraggled, bloodstained, ragged princes and said quietly, "It was not you, prince of Mirkwood. You are blameless."
Astaler looked as though he was about to argue, but instead he turned his head aside and wretched, coughing up black blood. He tried to cover his mouth, but the blood continued to spurt up through his throat and through his already blood covered fingers. As Elrond leapt back to avoid the blood, the other princes began to bring up blood as well, coughing and spluttering.
As Captain Silnan jogged up to Elrond, his face falling in dismay as his eyes took in the dead queen and princess and the wretched princes he bowed his head. More elves of Mirkwood followed him, weapons still in their hands from the battle.
At last, the princes seemed to stop coughing up the vile black blood, and Nilwethion looked up at Silnan and Elrond, and then back to the blood covering his hands.
"Our blood," he whispered, seeing one of his wounds, "It . . . it is red again!"
Then he slumped backwards, unconscious.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
A/N: this was a very long, emotional chapter. Obviously. It was very hard for me to write - probably the hardest thing I've written for ff.net before, even though I have killed various other characters. I kept getting tears in my eyes in the gut wrenching bits, which is very unlike me. Please leave a review. Remember, I love all reviews, but I love getting ramblers and constructive criticism even more. Choc chip 'n' cherry cookies for everybody who reviews. I'm so sorry Calensil; I'm so sorry Imlammthien! Please forgive me! I'm going to go off and mope and feel sorry for myself now.
PERSONAL REVIEW THINGY
LEXIE02 ~~ I take pride in my cliffhangers!
PIRATE-CHICHA ~ oh but I LOVE long rambling reviews and long boring rants! They're wonderful!
RAL ~~ well Calensil was about 7 until I killed her, Legolas is about 15 ish, Nilwethion is 17ish and Thellind is 18 or 19 ish. The other three are all adults. The younger two princes are at that very awkward stage where they think they're older than they are, and their parents think they're younger than they are.
JUKIA WOLFCALL ~~ you're going to hate me now, aren't you? Did I put enough description in?
MOONMIST ~~ sorry honey, Déjà Vu is going sometime in the next fortnight. Astaler knows they didn't kill them all before, but now the princes all think they killed their naneth and sister. Poor kiddies.
LOTRSEER3350 ~~ I get it now! Are my stories really that transparent? Um, more combat scenes. *Starts sniffling again*
LITTLE WITCH ~~ you can kiss them all if you really, really want to, but you might have to queue up for Legolas.
SARA ~~ Bec is your sister? I didn't *have* to leave you on the edge of your seat, its just fun!
IMBEFANIEL ~~ I get motion sickness very easily too. Especially on a boat or in the back of a car. That sounds like a very, very bad day. Well actually, they're all extremely badly hurt. Except maybe Elladan.
COOLIO ~~ glad to see my cooking is appreciated!
LADY LARVLE OF MIRKWOOD ~~ sanity? Hang on while I find a dictionary . . .
ELFAER GILIELL ~~ why thank you.
ELVENWITCH2 ~~ *beams* thank you! Wow, major compliment. Only, Treehuggers fics are much better than mine.
EBONY FALCON ~~ eurgh, school is evil. I don't like school. They just make you do the same stuff over and over again until you know it off by heart. We may as well be chimps with pens. *I stole that quote, it isn't mine*