A/N: All righty, here finally is chapter 8! Hope it's all right. We shall see if the fellowship make it alive.please review! So sorry for the shortness.

Chapter 8

Sleep had been kind to them for little more than two hours, when they were abruptly woken once again.

" Get up," grunted one of the Uruks with a kick to the log that the two Men and Elf had been resting against. The three did indeed wake at the disturbance, and the Hobbits followed in stirring. Gimli was the last of them to wake, but he only lingered in sleep for a moment. Merry and Pippin had scurried over to Frodo and Sam, the four of them huddled and trembling once more. Aragorn, Legolas, and Boromir leered narrowly up at the beast in bold annoyance, as opposed to fear.

// " Hiw yrch," // Legolas spat. //Vicious Orc//

" Don't you give me that Elf rubbish," the Uruk roared and struck Legolas hard across the face, sending him tot he ground.

" Leave him alone," Pippin cried, surprising himself. His eyes were wide with fear as the Uruk looked to him.

" And what are you going to do, maggot, if I don't? " the vile creature challenged, lumbering toward the Took. Aragorn had gone to Legolas' aid already, helping him up and giving one stroke over the Elf's now reddened cheek.

" Take not another step further, you foul beast," Boromir warned, now standing tall on his feet. The Uruk turned around, leaving the Hobbits only a few steps away, cowering in his shadow.

" If I want to rip what little meat there is off their bones, I'll do it," he started, and advanced on Boromir. " If I want to cut off the Dwarf's head, I'll do it." Boromir's eyes were hard and locked with the beast's. " If I want to disembowel your friend here," he delivered a kick to Aragorn, who grunted. " I'll do it with his own sword." There was a glint in Boromir's eyes. The Uruk was now standing right in front of him, inches away from his face. " If I want to have some fun with the Elf before Saruman makes him his pretty little love slave, I'll do it before carving out half of his heart." Boromir's hands were clenched into fists at his sides, the knuckles white. " Who knows, Human, " murmured the beast. " I might just do all of it and more."

Before the logical part of his brain had even registered the thought, Boromir's fist had flown to connect with the Uruk's jaw. The beast's head snapped back, and it staggered a bit. Before the eyes of the rest of the fellowship, a brawl unfolded between the man and beast.

" What's going on? " Ugluk snarled from behind them as he approached. The other Uruk threw Boromir down on the ground, before replying.

" The man was giving me trouble," it said gingerly.

" They were sleeping," Ugluk said. " You were the one making trouble. What were you doing? "

" No one of your bloody business. You're not the boss of me. If I want to dine on their flesh, I will," the other Uruk said boldly. Ugluk growled threateningly, before swiping off the rebel's head with his scimitar. It rolled past the Hobbits, who gawked in horror. The other Uruks smelled the blood and stirred.

" More meat tonight, boys," Ugluk announced, and suddenly the whole host of Uruks was upon the fellowship's place. The fellowship itself had scattered in the chaos, crawling away in different directions as the carcass of the Uruk was devoured.

With Legolas at his side, Aragorn reached their weapons, which had been carelessly piled near the dead fire. Legolas kissed his bow, took his knives, and slung his quiver across his chest with no time to strap it on properly. Aragorn felt whole again, with his sword in grasp. The ranger peered back at the bedlam, before standing.

" Legolas," he called, but the Elf paid no heed as he darted forth into the madness. His deadly Elven knives were brandished. Aragorn followed, taking Boromir's sword along with his own.

It had taken a moment for the Uruks to realize that Legolas was among them and to notice that their own were dropping dead in seconds as the blades flashed. Once they had, feeding stopped and there were shrill outcries. They turned against him with their scimitars, besides considering Aragorn who now threatened them as well. Boromir looked back at them as he crawled away, taking a minute to realize what was taking place. Aragorn burst through the mass of Uruks, pushing back his three opponents. He threw Boromir his sword as he passed, and the Steward's son caught it in further disbelief. Gimli had gotten hold of his ax and was now grunting amidst the mess. The Hobbits had scattered, and Boromir skimmed the area for the little ones, as he so fondly called them. Nothing. But he had no time to look further.

Boromir stood, now with new confidence, and charged forth to Legolas' aid with sword before him. He knew that he had nowhere near his real strength, and that despite Aragorn's efforts, the poison had not been vanquished. He was dying, regardless of the fact that he hid it well. And he was no healer, but he doubted that this knife wielding was doing much good for the Elf in the condition that he was in. Boromir fought well for how he was, and slew many along with Legolas. Aragorn had become segregated from the rest of the fellowship with his own small band of Uruks to fend off. Uruks lay dead all around him, yet he had not escaped unscathed. A blade had slid across his left upper arm at an angle, his sleeve now damp with blood. Doubtless, he would have many bruises afterward as well. The last Uruk clashed weapons with him, before finding an open spot in the ranger's mid-section and plunging a knife deep into Aragorn's left side.

Aragorn lurched forward and froze for a moment. He suppressed a grunt, and the Uruk released him. The ranger swept Anduril into the beast's side, cutting halfway through its torso before withdrawing to let the Uruk fall to the ground. Aragorn plunged his sword into its throat, and the Uruk was still. He panted, and clamped his left hand over his wound. His gray eyes wandered over to the fighting he had left, where his friends were. He couldn't see any of them, for thick were the Uruks.

Boromir was now using both hands to keep hold of his sword, swinging it heavily to kill. It seemed to him that the beasts weren't diminishing at all. Still no sight of the Hobbits. Boromir parried, swung, killed - repeated the process. With a grunt, he was knocked down from behind when an Uruk struck him in the head. Yet he did not pass out quiet yet and instead rolled onto his back and struck an Uruk from below.

Legolas twirled his long knives without yielding, his motions fluid and versatile. He was able to slay opponents from all sides, without needing to look everywhere at once. He never kept his focus on any one opponent or place but rather trusted to his natural movements. He could have been blindfolded, as he was when he practiced his knife dances, and it would have made no difference. Yet one Uruk had escaped his senses and Legolas was caught in mid-spin when a scimitar ripped through his back in one upward swipe. He cried out as he arched back in pain and fell to his knees.

" There's no one to save you know," hissed one of the goblin-Orc hybrid creatures to Pippin. The little Hobbit trembled in fear as the beast made to strike him with a scimitar. Yet in the same moment, the creature released a shrill cry as a spasm racked its body. It fell over dead, a spear protruding from its back.

From the darkness, a host of riders stormed forth. Uruks fell dead in rapid succession under a flying arrows and spears. Attention to the fellowship had been broken as the Uruks broke out into further turmoil amidst the riders, whose faces were unclear with their helmets. They rode back and forth through the campsite until there wasn't an Uruk left standing. The moon had moved out of the clouds and was bright again.

The stampede had come to a halt, finally. The beating of hooves upon the ground was now quiet and few. One of the riders stopped before Aragorn, who was slumped on his knees.

" Who are you? " came the strong voice.

" Aragorn, Son of Arathron," the ranger answered, looking up at the menacing shadow of the horsed rider. " My seven companions and I were taken captive by the Uruks days ago. Thank you for your good timing."

" Are you wounded? " the rider asked.

Aragorn only nodded after a moment's hesitation. " I don't know where my friends are."

" We'll find them, whether they are dead or alive. To discern between and Uruk and a Man is no easy task in this darkness. Stay here, and I will see to your friends." The rider did not wait for a reply and bid his horse to trot off once more.

Another few of the riders had already found the four Hobbits in tact, curious as to what exactly they were. The rider who had spoken to Aragorn rode among the bodies that littered the ground, keeping a sharp eye for any body that did not look to be that of an Uruk. He first had to kick a dead Uruk off a very disgruntled Dwarf, before moving on to find another Man lying. He dismounted and knelt beside the fallen Man.

" Can you hear me? " he asked.

" Faramir," the man mumbled, his eyes fluttering open and closed. The rider sighed with sealed lips and signaled some of his men to tend to Aragorn's friend. He did not bother to mount his horse again but led it by the reins as he walked on. A figure came into view, this one also slumped over on his knees as Aragorn had been. Golden hair fell over the person's shoulders. A woman?

" Who are you? " the rider called out. " Be you friend or foe? "

" That would depend," Legolas started as he lifted his head. " On who you are."

The rider was taken aback when he looked upon the face of a male - and a male Elf at that. The Elf struggled to stand, but did it alone nonetheless. The rider did not bother to help, for he knew the creature was one of pride - like himself. Legolas stood before the rider with a faint grin, the moonlight upon his head. He slipped his knives into the quiver that hung limply at his hip.

" Are you injured? " the rider questioned.

" Now that would depend on whether or not you're going to treat me like an invalid," the Elf answered as he walked past. The rider saw the bloody slash on the Elf's back in the moonlight.

The rider followed the Elf, only to see Aragorn and the blonde meet with an embrace. He did not miss the Elf flinch when Aragorn's arm made contact with his back, nor the way Aragorn leaned against the Elf for support. The two exchanged murmurs, before looking to the rider one more.

" Boromir is dying," Aragorn said. The rider guessed he meant the other man he had found unconscious. " He needs proper healing."

" And Aragorn has been stabbed," the Elf said with great urgency in his tone. " We must help him." The rider was further surprised at the fairness of the Elf's voice.

" Your back is in great need of tending to as well, mellonin," said Aragorn to the Elf.

" I will take you back to Edoras for care, though I myself am banished," said the rider.

" Edoras? " Aragorn echoed as the rider passed by bestride his horse. " Who are you? "

The rider stopped, looked back at him, and removed his helmet.

" Eomer of Rohan."