Title: Unlucky
Author: rabidsamfan
Chapter Three: Of Night and Orcs
Summary: AU diversion – what if the cut Sam got in the Mines of Moria had been poisoned, after all?
Disclaimer: None of this belongs to me, but rather to J.R.R. Tolkien -- and several lines are quoted directly out of the chapter "Lothlorien." The best ones, of course.
Author notes: Two chapters… This was going to be two shortchapters. *sigh*
The companions all strained their ears, listening hard over the rustle of the wind in the leaves and the music of the stream beside them. Sam closed his eyes as he picked up the distant mutter of voices. Those weren't rabbits.
"Quickly," whispered Boromir. "Up the ladder. We may be hidden before they find us. And in any case there is no other refuge we can defend." He caught Pippin by the collar and set him bodily on the rungs, and Pippin was startled, but scrambled upwards. "You next, Merry."
"Wait," said Merry, "what about Sam? How will he get up there?"
"I'll have to climb, Master Merry, because I won't be able to fight" said Sam, trying to free himself of the blankets. "Go on, Mister Frodo and I'll follow." The stranger Elf caught him by the shoulder and pressed a flask into his hands, motioning for him to drink. Sam drank, and the bright sweet tang filled his mouth like daylight after night. Its taste was like and yet unlike the cordial of Imladris, which Gandalf had given them on the mountain; Sam swallowed his mouthful, and tried to return the flask, but Orophin wanted him to drink again of the strong brew. He shook his head and wished he hadn't. "More'n that and I'll be dizzy," he told the elf, and Orophin smiled as if he understood and tucked the flask into Sam's tunic.
Frodo took Sam's elbow and steered him to the ladder. "Go on up, Sam," he commanded, and up Sam went, as if the Gaffer had him by the ear, for Frodo was clearly in no mood for arguments. His head was spinning, and the wind was cold, biting hard through his clothes where he had sweated in the blankets; but the friendly heat of the liquor surged through him, pressing back the unkind heat from the wound in his head, and he had no farther to look than one rung at a time.
Frodo followed behind, wishing that Sam could go faster, but grateful that he could go at all. Below him he could feel Gimli and Boromir holding the ladder steadier, but still it swayed with each step he or the others took. Merry had already reached the lowest branches, but Sam had fifteen more feet to go, and the ladder had been made for the long legs of Elves, not the shorter legs of hobbits. His foot missed a rung, and he slipped, catching himself only at the last moment. He clung to the ladder, wrapping his arm through one side of it to keep from slipping farther and knocking Frodo off as well.
"Sam, are you all right?" Frodo said, and Sam made the mistake of looking down. He closed his eyes hastily, and shut his mouth to keep his stomach inside. "Just hold on," Frodo ordered, and Sam felt his master climb up behind, and wrap his arms around so that Sam was held safe against the ladder. He wanted to apologize for being a nuisance, but the sickness in his throat would not allow it.
"Easy, Sam-lad," Frodo said, "You won't fall. A few more rungs and you can rest."
"It's no worse than picking apples at home," Sam told himself, and reached blindly upwards until his hand found the next rung. With Frodo guiding him he climbed a few more feet, but he was glad to hear Strider's voice call down from above.
"Hold on to Sam, Frodo, and we will pull you both up with the ladder. It will go faster." Aragorn braced himself on one of the lowest branches. Upwards he hauled, and Legolas and two more Elves as fair as Orophin were also helping and in a moment both hobbits were perched on one of the lower branches, while Aragorn let the ladder fall again. Frodo didn't see Merry, but Pippin waved from where he crouched on a branch a little above and to one side before turning to speak to someone on the far side of the trunk.
Never had Frodo imagined such trees. Four of them grew here, in a cluster by the stream, with their branches interweaving, and those branches began higher than most trees that had finished growing in the Shire. Already they were thirty feet already above the ground. Each branch grew straight out from the stem before turning gracefully upwards and flowering; and where the largest and oldest of them met the stem they were almost broad enough for two hobbits to go abreast, if they were careful. Frodo steered his injured companion to the crotch of stem and branch and made him sit. Sam sat, grateful for support that did not sway beneath him.
"I am Haldir," said one of the elves, busily nocking an arrow into his bow as he nodded to them. "This is my brother Rumil. Stay you here and keep hidden until we climb to the talan."
Sam grimaced. "There's more climbing?" he asked, but Frodo hushed him and lay on his belly over the broad branch, looking down to see what was happening to the others.
Boromir was coming first and already a third of the way up, when dark figures began to swarm into view. Gimli dropped Sam's pack and blankets and turned with Orophin to face the orcs, drawing out his great axe. The elf said something as he tossed out the little lantern he had used to view Sam's wound; the cover came off, and bright silver light flooded the area, blinding the orcs and sending them cringing into shadows. It was too late. One of them had loosed an arrow, and it struck Orophin, cutting the strap that held his bag on his shoulder. He went down.
Gimli dropped Sam's pack and the blankets and swung out his axe, turning to stand and face the enemy; Boromir dropped back to the ground, readying his shield, and sweeping out his long blade. Orophin was trying to stand, but his left arm hung limply at his side and the bolt was in him. He drew a fair, thin blade and put his back to the tree.
Haldir's bow sang, and Legolas's and even Aragorn had strung his hunting bow. "BarukKhazad! Khazad ai-menu!" cried Gimli, and Boromir "Gondor!" and some of the orcs backed away, but others chattered in their own harsh tongue, and ventured forward. But all that came into the light were cut down, by axe and blade and arrow, and Frodo's hopes rose until he heard the beating of a drum from the north by the river and the shouts of a still greater host. Rumil knelt, calling down in his own tongue and Orophin stumbled towards the ladder, but he could not climb.
"Gimli!" Legolas shouted down. "Bring him up! Bring him up if you have the strength!"
"A dwarf always has the strength!" Gimli replied joyfully, parting a goblin from its head. "Boromir, give us time!"
And Boromir put his great horn to his lips and blew, as he had when they had departed Rivendell, and the call was bright and strong. The echoes came back from all around and gave heart to the defenders. Frodo found himself on his feet, and Sting in his hand, but the orcs fell back, gibbering.
Gimli put Orophin on his back and began to climb, and Boromir came after. Before they reached the branches one of the goblins tried to follow, but the arrows of Legolas and Aragorn made it think again. As soon as Boromir and Gimli came level with the others, Rumil began to draw up the lower part of ladder; it was soon out of the goblins' reach.
"Keep going, Gimli!" Aragorn ordered. "Let us get the wounded up to the talan. Every orc in the mountains will have heard that horncry."
"They had found us already, or I would have heeded Elrond's warning," Boromir said. "But the need is dire, and if your friends live not too far distant, perhaps they have heard the note as well. It is not a great hope, but a little, for if we do not get help soon, the orcs will overcome their uncertainty."
"The horn was heard," Aragorn said. "But it will take time for help to arrive. We must try to hold out until morning."
"I have only three arrows left," said Legolas to the Galadhrim. "We began this day with a battle."
"There are more above," Haldir said. "They are long for your bow, but they will do."
"I'll fetch them," Sam said, trying to get to his feet. "I'm good for nowt else."
"You will not!" said Frodo, pushing him back down again. "You're hurt, Samwise Gamgee, and if anything is to be fetched above then I shall go for it."
"You're hurt too, Frodo," Pippin reminded him. "Trade places with me and I shall do the fetching. I'm faster than you!"
"I would, if I knew how you got there," Frodo said, eyeing the distance to Pippin's branch with dismay. The bark of the tree was smooth and gray, and he did not see any handholds.
"Oh, Strider fetched me up here," Pippin said. "I forgot."
"Catch the ladder when I swing it to you," Boromir told Pippin. "Then Frodo can come to you, and you can go on up."
"But what about Sam?" Frodo asked, sheathing Sting and preparing to climb.
"Better for him to wait until Pippin isn't shaking the ladder," said Aragorn. "Go now, and warn us if you see movement on the ground or in the trees."
As soon as Pippin was sure that Frodo was securely on his branch, he put his feet on the ladder and let it swing, scrambling upwards as pertly as a squirrel. Frodo watched him go, and wondered how much higher the elves kept their house, or talanif that was what it was called. He could not see it; the branches were in the way. He crept outward from the trunk, to get a better view, and far away, forty feet or more, he thought he saw the shadow of a shape that was not leaf or branch blocking the stars.
The song of a bow brought his mind back to his task. He looked down, but none of the defenders had fired, and it was not until a second arrow flew into the light at the base of the tree that he realized that the orcs were trying to put out the elvish lantern. Their aim was poor, or the light interfered with it. Three or four attempts came nowhere near at all. But in the edges of the light there were shadows, running between the trees. Sting gleamed brightly in Frodo's hand.
Aragorn came up beside him, looking out over the night. "How do your bruises feel?" he asked softly.
"I'm trying not to think of them," Frodo answered. "How many orcs do you think there are?"
Aragorn smiled, a little. "I'm trying not to think of them," he echoed Frodo's words, but then answered more seriously. "Perhaps a hundred. But more may come, to answer the drums." He rested a hand for a moment on Frodo's shoulder. "When Pippin comes back you should climb with Sam to the talan. Keep Gimli with you there, where there is room for him to swing his axe. I will send Merry and Pippin to you. Draw up the ladder. Legolas and the others will keep anything from climbing this tree and Boromir and I will try to keep the goblins from crossing from the other trees, but we cannot guard every level, and there must you make your last defense. These Moria orcs are shy of the light, and will not fight past dawn, I hope; but they must not take the Ring."
Frodo felt for his burden, and found it safe under his shirt. "How long till morning, Aragorn?"
"Three hours, no more," Aragorn said. "The moon should rise soon, and be our friend in this. But if morning comes and you are without guides, remember this – you must follow the Silverlode south, until you find a place to cross or the Elves find you and bring you across. On the far bank continue south till you come to a tall hill and from there bear southeast and you will find Caras Galadhon. Although I do not doubt that you will be found before you ever go so far."
Authors other notes:
The flow of words has slowed a little, but I have a better idea of what's going to happen now, so I'll update when time allows. (I wrote the first two chapters when I was home with the flu.)
Thank you to everyone who has reviewed so far. It's a lovely feeling to have those little notes of encouragement. I'll try hard to live up to them!