Deana: In answer to your comment, (which was placed in such a nice review!! You make me so happy!! ) I figured, by my understanding of the healing abilities for the elves, that enough time had passed for Legolas to be up and about again, albeit carefully. Yup, he's certainly not in perfect form, but he had a whole night and day to rest after the injury, which were really only so devastating because they went untreated. Treated, they were not as serious. I hope that makes sense. (also, I wanted our elf to get some action, lol: )
I can't thank you guys enough for your awesome reviews!! Wow!! Everyone is so nice considering that this is my first fic ever. Now I always get nervous before I post that the next chapter will fall short of expectations. (I hope not!!)
ONE LAST NOTE: (promise!) I went and read through previous chapters and never is Legolas informed anywhere that his father is dead, missing, yes, but dead, no. (at least, I couldn't find such a passage, and hey, I wrote the thing!) Therefore our beloved elf has not really been super worried about his dear old dad, even though Thranduil has been grieving for his son.
The Two Battles
He couldn't tell how close they were, but he knew that they weren't that far behind because he could hear their hissing overhead. They were gaining on him.
Legolas was losing speed. For the second time the fleet-footedness of the elves was failing him. His injuries were sending throbbing pulses of pain into his side and shoulders, slacking his speed slowly but surely. His breath was starting to catch in his throat.
He had stayed for a moment in the center of the nest, desperately fighting with his blades, but it became quickly apparent that he would never be able to defeat all of them. He had somehow managed to slash his way through the cobweb, and then had taken off as fast as he could into the remaining woods, trying desperately to think of a way to kill so many enemies.
A spider leered up at him on his right, he twirled his dagger sideways and then stabbed downwards into its eye. It shrieked and fell back, clawing feebly at its face. More spiders rose up beside him, again they attempted to trip him up. They could sense about him the air of weakness. The trees seemed to press in around him, and the smoke was thickening in his path of vision.
Looking back he realized that his time was gone. If he did not rid himself of these spiders now; if he did not manage to free himself from the peril, then he would be overcome and pulled down by the mass. The spiders would drag him off into the dark territory, where he would be stung and eaten. A shuddering thought.
Legolas called upon his last reserves. He sprinted through the forest. Tears streaked down his face, a branch whipped him across his cheek. The trees flashed past his eyes, made into a green blur as he ran. He put all his strength into this last effort, this last attempt to get away from those monsters. He ran as fast as he could, and faster still. His injuries were screaming with agony, but the stitches held. The pain he felt made his breath draw shorter still, a cruel irony it would be if he fell due to lack of air then to the spiders' claws. But he could not slow to regain his composure. He again glanced back.
The spiders, they were still following him, and they were still gaining.
The blades crashed against each other. Sparks rang off, and tremors raced up each opponents' arms. They had moved in close, making it hard to maneuver. One small slip could easily mean death. Tanvir's face was drawn tight, sweat pouring down it. Sanul's hood had fallen back, revealing a pale face, with ugly, twisted scars running across it. One scar ended at the edge of his lip, putting it into a permanent snarl. He had had to remove the hood in order to continue the struggle; it had been hindering his line of sight. He had shaken his head back and let it fall off to hang down his back. Now Tanvir could see that his enemy was sweating just as much as he. More importantly, Tanvir could now see that his enemy was nothing more than a mortal man who had worked hard to become an expert with the sword. The fighting went on.
Aragorn was lying a few feet away, trying desperately to remain conscious. Pain from the wound in his leg was moving through his body, and darkness was creeping into the edge of his vision. He knew that he couldn't drop out now, he had to know the outcome of the battle, but to remain alert was becoming more and more difficult as the battle stretched on. He wished with all his being that he was able to fight, to give aid to Tanvir. Yet it only took a touch on his leg to know that this would be impossible. Blood was trickling down his thigh, thankfully though, it was not gushing. He did not have need to worry about blood loss right now.
So he lay where he was and watched anxiously as the battle moved around, the fire line burning in closer constantly. Aragorn was the only one who took note of this; the other two were too busy in combat to notice that gradually their open area was drawing to a closed ring of flaming trees.
Legolas was spent. The spiders were nearly upon him. His whole side was burning up in a great misery. His vision was blurred, and he ran half bent forward as the pain in his back drove him down. He knew that in any moment the weight of a spider would come crashing down on him. He tore past another tree, staggering and clutching at his side.
A spider pounced ahead, and shoved him onto the ground. He crawled forward a ways, but the spider was practically on top of him, dragging him backwards. He slashed at it with his knifes, but his blurred vision hindered his aim.
A stone came whizzing through the air, hitting the spider perfectly center in its frontal lobe area. It fell dead. Legolas looked up to see his father standing by a tree across a small, cleared nest area, his arm raised. It was he who had thrown the rock. Thranduil was white, his eyes wide. Legolas wasn't sure why. He started to drag himself forward, but cramps caused him to double over.
He hadn't seen Gimli come running forward, so when he felt the dwarf grab his arm to help him move he was startled. With Gimli's help he managed to crawl over and place his back against a tree, gasping for air, moaning with the horrible cramps from his side.
Between gasps he spoke, "Spiders...a whole nest full."
Gimli hefted his axe, but Thranduil knelt down in front of his son.
"Legolas?" His tone was one of that who couldn't understand what he saw before him.
Legolas looked up at his father, worry in his gaze, "Adar, where have you been? Scouts have been searching everywhere for you. I thought you were out in the main battle area commanding."
Thranduil could only stare at his son disbelievingly. When Legolas had come bursting through the trees with the spider upon him he had reacted instantly, only realizing what he had seen afterwards. Then the shock had paralyzed him so that Gimli had run forward to help his son.
His son, who was not dead! Such rejoicing in his heart he had never known. The image of Legolas lying on the cot, bloody and still, came back to him. Surely that elf in his memory couldn't be the same one who sat in front of him? He could not understand how all this was happening. He gazed intently at the prince, who was looking quizzically back at him.
"Adar?"
"Yes?"
"The spiders. Remember we're being attacked?" Legolas pointed over Thranduil's shoulder, who turned and hurled another stone. A spider fell dead.
"Use one of my daggers."
Thranduil took the weapon, and Legolas took his father's stones. With his archer's aim, not one stone went amiss. As spiders poked through the trees, he picked them off, one by one. Still the arachnids were not intimidated. After a few moments, a mob of them broke through, and came rushing down upon the three. Legolas staggered brokenly to his feet and prepared to meet them by his father's side.
Sanul knew that he could not win. He could hold his own for now, but sooner or later his strength would leave him and he would slip. He cast around desperately in his mind for a way out of this mess he had foolishly gotten himself into.
If only his whip had not been destroyed by that cursed man!
His whip, yes, his whip. A thought came to him. While it was true that the whip was ruined, it was not impossible nor beyond the realm of possibility that it had totally lost all of its danger. The three mithril tips were still lying at the base of the tree, gleaming in the flickering fires. Perhaps if he could work his way over to them? He began to step gracefully backwards, still locked in deadly battle with this dark haired elf.
Urgsha opened his eyes. He couldn't see anything. Only a sticky darkness pressed in around him. He tried to move, but found he couldn't; the most he could manage was a half wriggle in place. He tried to remember how he had gotten here.
What Urgsha couldn't see was that five spiders were sitting in the branches above him, watching him struggle. Drool from one of them dripped down onto his cocooned body. They began to creep forward.
Urgsha realized that the spiders that lived in these woods must have caught him. He would have to somehow get free, find and then free that stupid king, and then make it back to the ships. He began to scratch at the cobweb.
Suddenly a horrible, slicing pain entered his stomach. He screamed, he screamed until he thought that every living person in the woods must have heard him. They were ejected from his throat in agonizing gasps, echoing in his ears. Now on his side, the same pain appeared. His voice left him with this new torture. He felt sick, he wanted desperately out of the dark web. As yet another pain entered by his back he knew with a certainty that he was going to die. He prayed for mercy, but all he received was the noise of his ribs snapping.
The spiders were eating. They had bitten into their prey, enjoying the sounds of his suffering. They ate him slowly, dragging out the death process as long as possible. At last, one bit into the head, effectively ending Urgsha's cowardly life. By the time they had eaten their full, none was left but a sticky web entangled with bones.
Thranduil fought in front of his son, blocking off most of the spiders that were trying to reach around him. Their carcasses were piling up before him, as they were in front of Gimli. It seemed like every spider in Mirkwood had been called to attack the three.
Legolas was fighting cautiously, but deadly. It wound not pay for him to open his wounds and draw spiders over with the stench of blood. No, he took special care in the way he delivered his blows, showing once again his mastery in the art of combat.
Gimli swung his axe around low, slicing over a dozen pair of legs; spiders tumbled all about him. With grunts of satisfaction he slammed his axe home into those who could not re-stand, but only lie there and blink furiously at him. Black blood was all over the ground.
Legolas brought his knife across in front of him, aiming downwards to his left. He hit the spider that had been sneaking up on him right above its mouth, scraping his blade across the bone, and then snapping the jaw. He pulled his dagger out and re-entered it through the eyes of the beast. It staggered off into the woods. Other spiders were following it and were already starting to bite at the fleshy parts. The original spider shrieked at them, but they crowded round and crushed it under their hunger.
Legolas had long ago turned his attention to other enemies. Though his father blocked many from reaching him, some still managed to slip past and go for what they sensed was the weakest of the three.
While Legolas fought he kept one eye on his father. The spiders were trying to bring the king down, and with only one blade to defend himself Thranduil was hard pressed. With his entire soul Legolas wanted to be up by his side, helping to defend him, his father and king. He had not understood why his father had been so shaken before, but he had a suspicion. His heart ached for any grief his father had experienced.
A moment later the dwarf emerged to his left, killing spiders that were charging up the side. Gimli's axe was covered in the spiders' blood, as was Legolas's own weapon. Gimli seemed to understand with a look at his friend's face where Legolas wanted to be, up towards the front of the battle. He swung his axe around and started hacking his way to go and fight by Thranduil, thus he hoped to ease Legolas's worry.
Never would a decision of his would Legolas bless more dearly. For had the dwarf not moved forward when he did, then he would not have been able to aid Thranduil when the spiders shoved him down. The king would have been ripped open down the chest from one of the stingers.
As it were, Gimli was there. Seeing the king fall, he leapt forward with a cry the caused some of the spiders to shrink back. He cut and swung at them until they all retreated off a little. Then he grabbed the king and pulled him roughly to his feet. While Thranduil regained his bearings, Gimli defended him, not one spider crawling past.
Legolas let out the breath he had been holding. To see his father so close to death was unnerving. Thranduil stared at the dwarf, as if really seeing him for the first time. When he had crashed upon Gimli in his flight, he had thought to leave the dwarf to his own devices; he had not wanted any part of the other's company even then.
But now, this dwarf had pulled him from danger, partly because he was Legolas's father, and his son and this dwarf were good friends, but Thranduil had sensed that the motivation was mostly from just one warrior defending another. That it made no difference to the axe-wielder whether or not Thranduil was the king who had imprisoned the dwarven folk. The king's whole view now shifted from this one incident, and his mind reeled. Centuries upon centuries he had lived, believing the dwarves to be a dirty, crude race. Yet now signs of honor and valor presented themselves. He resolved that later he would talk with this dwarf, perhaps his son had not been so rash as he and many others had thought before.
He turned back to the fight, a new feeling of hope settling in his chest. As the spiders came forward he and Gimli drove them back, fighting together in a newly discovered unison, giving time for Legolas to defend himself from what spiders managed to get past them.
The mithril tips were coming into his range. In a few moments he would be able to reach them. He only had to find a way to bend low without compromising his defense. The elf, thinking that he was trying to retreat, pressed forward, which was exactly what Sanul wanted him to do. The more he was pressed back, the closer the blades came. Just a few more steps...
The whole sky overhead was dark, but the clouds did not seem to be slowing. Arwen watched them as they rolled unceasingly across the sky, heading again towards the forest. The smoke that could be seen from it was still as thick as ever. The clouds darkening the sky would not help this any.
At the same time Arwen wished for the clouds to keep moving, to keep their lightning away from Gondor and its cities, she also wished for the clouds to stay, so that she could know for sure her husband would not be caught up in the approaching storm.
Again she fought against an urge to run to the stables, saddle a horse and ride off to see what was happening. She stayed on her balcony, she had given Aragorn her word that she would lead his subjects, and her word would remain unbroken.
The black clouds, unheeding of the wishes of the mortal woman, continued on their path.
He reached them. The mithril was to his right a bit, ready to be picked up and fought with. When the swords clashed again, Sanul put extra strength into shoving the elf off. Tanvir moved backwards a few steps, which was all the corsair needed. In one swift, calculated motion he bent down and grabbed one of the three blades. Grinning now, he straightened to face his shocked enemy. He heard the crying out of the man and laughed, he would deal with him after the elf was killed.
What he hadn't realized was that the man's cry had been one of warning, not of fear. The two had battled right into the thick of the fire, and a tree, nearly burnt had reached its life's end. The trunk had started to crack some time ago, and now, slowly and majestically, like a king descending down palace steps, it fell.
A loud crack resonated throughout the clearing. Sanul turned his back to see what was going on behind him, confusion rearing up in his eyes. Tanvir leaped forward at this opportunity his enemy had thrown at him. Sanul's back was fully exposed. Tanvir went to bring his blade down. Neither saw the falling tree until it was too late.
The corsair captain knew that now, either one way or the other, this battle would be ended. In one last angry motion Sanul spun around to face his enemy, reaching out to swipe at the elf, who had frozen in his surprise. Then the tree crashed upon them both.
The steady rhythm of their march could be heard echoing into the ground. They could all track well enough to know that others had crested this hill before them.
Gimli's people of the Glittering Caves stopped for a moment as the last of the water-filled wagons rolled up. The commander sniffed at the forest, "It hardly appears that they have halted the advancement at all. The fires look out of control."
Another grumbled, "And now we'll have to do all the work for them."
"I hardly think so. The elves need water and we have brought that, but nothing else has been asked of us. We shall follow whatever new orders Master Gimli gives us and only those. Come let us enter into the forest."
This caused more grumbling as dwarves and trees were not the best of friends, but the whole contingent marched behind their commander, their ranks stretching back far onto the plains. Gimli's message had sounded urgent and so all who could be spared had come, making for a large army. Wagons filled to the brim with water were dotted amongst the ranks, and all passed under the trees, towards the ever-being fought battle.
Though the dwarfs had not traveled expecting to have to fight, they were still prepared for any trouble, each was armed to the teeth. They marched, and the last of them disappeared into the darkening woods. All players had finally arrived.
ok, I know in this chapter I didn't really expand upon how the rest of the battle was going, but that was really because nothing there had really changed, the elves and corsairs and spiders all are still fighting desperately with each other like in the previous chapter, so I figured you guys didn't need to hear it again. I wanted to zoom in onto the two really important battles in the story, the three versus the spiders, and Aragorn, Tanvir, and Sanul.
silvanelf