Also, I am trying to update at least once every week or two, but with everything going on in life, it has become extremely difficult to write. (I wrote this chapter in a bus coming back from Portland.) So I shall endeavor to update as regularly as I can. Just be rest assured that I shall see this story through to the end, and will keep updating whenever I can. I am sorry I can't go faster.
I don't believe there is anything else, except of course, the heartfelt thank-you for all of your kind reviews! So on with the story!
The Pursuit
Thranduil looked about him. All around, men elves, and dwarves were organizing themselves, regrouping after being scattered by the retreat. The order to assemble had been given forty-five minutes ago, and now at last the armies seemed almost ready.
Most were going to be on foot, the horses having been injured from the corsairs' dishonorable and cowardly attack. Thranduil sighed; it was going to take more time going on foot, and his elven folk would be slowed down considerably, having to match their pace to the men's. This would eventually take more time, and this was time not permitted to them. They had to reach the corsairs soon, or their people would be forever lost. And this most of all Thranduil could not accept.
Tired of standing by waiting for the others to carry out his orders, he decided to send out runners again. Perhaps they could catch up with Legolas, Aragorn and the dwarf friend Gimli. They would be able to report back the updated situation and save precious minutes.
He called to three of his men. They came quickly and nodded their heads before him, showing their respect. Thranduil gave them his orders and sent them off upon horseback. With the beasts to aid them, they soon disappeared underneath the rain, into the woods. It would take them some thirty minutes to reach the river, and then some minutes more to find the three others.
Looking back across the hills, Thranduil saw that during this side distraction the armies now seemed to have become ready. All that was for lacking was his command. The elven king gave his consent, and in a few seconds all were following the runners' path, marching back into the forest.
Legolas moved nimbly from branch to branch, casting his eyes downwards, looking for his two companions. He moved as quickly as possible, his heart pounding in his chest, and rising up in his throat. The corsair ships were already sailing away!
He paused for a split second to wipe rainwater soaked hair back from his face. He needed total clarity of vision to find the others under the downpour. Rain obscured his vision badly. Scanning the area again around him, he searched for signs that Aragorn and Gimli had been here. There was nothing. He went perfectly still, still as stone, to be able to hear everything within his range. This time he was rewarded. To his immense relief he could hear the smallest sound of a twig snapping. Most likely from a clumsy dwarf foot, the elf thought. A few tree branches over, and one minute later proved him correct. He had come upon his friends.
Without wasting time he leapt down from the branch to land in front of them. Aragorn didn't even blink, having been raised by the elves, he had learned to detect their approach. But Gimli gave a startled shout and steeped back a pace, his hand automatically reaching for his axe before he realized whom it was. Had the times been better, and the situation not so dire, Legolas would have laughed and mercilessly teased the dwarf. But as it were he paid no heed to Gimli's actions.
"What is it?" Aragorn had picked on the fact that something was wrong. Legolas's eyes were wide and one hand was tightening into a fist and then relaxing again, over and over. The elf's whole body language spoke of extreme urgency.
"The corsair ships, they have already finished preparations and have set sail. They move down the river, towards the sea!" The words came out of his mouth laced with an undertone of extreme anger.
Aragorn felt his breath grow short. The armies were too late! He took a glance at his elven friend. Legolas was watching him closely, obviously hoping that the ranger would have some trick up his sleeve that would be able to save this situation. His eyes were narrow, and calculating.
Perhaps... Aragorn thought, Perhaps I just might. We would only have to delay the ships until the armies arrive. He thought furiously for a few seconds and then turned quickly to the dwarf.
Gimli was startled by the sudden turn of attention upon him, but managed not to show it to the others. Aragorn was addressing him.
"Gimli, stay here and inform the others when they arrive. It shouldn't be long by now. Legolas and I will ride ahead to prevent the ships from reaching the ocean."
Hearing this Gimli nodded, and Legolas turned and once more blew out a clear, sharp whistle. Their horses responded instantly. Arod trotted smartly up, his white coat gleaming in the rain and what remaining starlight there was. As he ran to where Legolas stood he picked up the urgency in the air and quickened his pace. He closed the distance between them, yet did not slow down. Instead, while he flashed past, Legolas reached out and swung himself up gracefully onto the back in midstride. The pair vanished soon after.
Aragorn was not far behind. He pulled himself up onto Brego, and with a kick of his heels, he was soon also lost to the dwarf's sight, departing in the same direction as had Legolas. Gimli remained behind, hoping the armies would hurry up and arrive soon.
Dawn was forthcoming. Thranduil could sense it as he rode through the forest. The darkness seemed to fade somewhat and turn into only shadows, as somewhere behind the mountains of rain clouds the sun began to rise. The wind picked up a little and blew through the remaining leaves of the kingdom. After such a long time without it, the whispering of the leaves was soothing to the elf's soul.
They had been moving through the forest for sometime now, only making quiet rustles as the wind did through the leaves. The graveyard that they had entered demanded it. It insisted a quiet sacredness to show respect where their friends and brothers had died. His horse's footsteps stirred up some of the ash, which was everywhere, covering everything. It fell from the sky like early winter snow, only much, much harsher. Thranduil hated it.
The runners had not yet returned. Thranduil wondered if they might be having difficulty in tracking down Legolas and his friends. He hoped not. He knew of his son's reputation for falling into troublesome events.
He turned his gaze across the armies. The short, stout dwarves were bristling to the teeth with their mighty axes. Taller men and elves walked amongst them, with archers provided between these two races. Energy flowed around all of them, the anticipation of the battle coming through in the body language.
Thranduil's mind lingered on the dwarves. The king was curious how it was that he, who had lived for thousands of years, had missed this good quality to be found in their race? Had he really been this blind?
For the dwarves had acted in a manner befitting a race who claimed many warriors. They had fought with honor, some dying for the elves' forest. An act before today Thranduil would have thought impossible for a dwarf to do, die for trees? And elves? It seemed to be unthinkable. Thranduil sighed, as Legolas had been right about associating with mortals, so it seemed he was also correct in the matter of the worthiness of dwarves. He would have to listen better and more readily to his son. The king promised himself to speak with Gimli once there was finally peace within the forest. Then perhaps there could finally be peace between the two kingdoms.
The rays of the sun crept over the darkened sky, illuminating for those who dwelt upon the earth a stormy morning. Lighting flashed down in the distance and loud peals of thunder rolled across the plains. The rain pelted down to the ground like a shower of archer's arrows. It seemed that another full day of stormy weather was in store.
Legolas paid this no heed. Under his urging Arod seemed to move faster than then wind itself. Never pausing, the two moved together with a fluid grace. Arod's coat was shining with perspiration and rainwater, his mane and tail streaming out behind him. His head and neck were stretched out, almost so that they were flat, as he fought to gain even more speed. Legolas sat low upon the back, leaning so far forward that it appeared as if he would topple over forward any moment. His hair whipped about his face, which was taunt with rage and worry. His body rolled easily and naturally with Arod's movements, the whole sight of rider and steed a beautiful choreography of sleek motion.
Beside them, and behind only by a step or two rode Aragorn with Brego. The ranger had quickly caught up with Legolas, Brego giving all of his speed to the effort. The horse's hoofs pounded the ground, echoing the distant thunder. Aragorn's hair flew out behind him and tears streamed down his cheeks from the force of the wind in his face. He blinked rapidly, trying to keep his vision clear. Though by the elves he had been raised, he had seldom ridden with his brothers in this fashion, where if one were dismounted unexpectedly, at such gallops, one would most likely snap his neck and die.
The two friends rode side by side, flying across the forest, ever approaching the sea...and the corsair ships.
The black sails had finally come into sight, and with each canter Legolas could see them draw closer. Yet getting nearer was not good enough. If the two friends wanted to be able to do anything to prevent the ships, first they would have to get ahead of them, and this would be no easy task to accomplish. The ships were moving fast, the wind was with them, making their sails full.
The two riders were aware of this. Leaning even lower than before so that a slight misstep would probably send both to their deaths, they pushed their horses to even greater speeds. Pursuing them with all of their heart, they tried to outrace the enemy ships.
Gimli paced anxiously across a patch of leaves in the forest. He was bored with this inaction that he must endure. He wished to ride with Aragorn and Legolas but knew this to be impossible for three important reasons.
First, someone had to stay behind to give warning to Legolas's father about the corsair ships leaving. Second, Gimli was simply too small and bulky to come along. He would slow his friends down with his extra weight on the horse, and that would cost them all precious time. And third: his friends had already left.
Even though all these reasons were sound, the dwarf still bristled at the thought of himself just standing around while enemies went unchallenged. He couldn't even leave the area he was in to go find the king himself because of the very real possibility that he would become lost. When riding Arod through the woods, he was all right, for it was really the horse who knew where they were going. Without his friends he was confused and stranded. No dwarf belonged in a forest.
He heard hoof beats coming his way and he tensed, his hands gripping his axe handle, ready to pull it out in case of danger. Someone was riding quite swiftly his way.
He wondered if it might be Aragorn and Legolas returning. He hoped not, for that would mean ill happenings. It would mean that they had failed to delay the ships and the cowards who commanded them from escaping with the elves. He glanced all around him, ready for whatever might be coming his direction, be it friend or foe.
Fortunately, it was a friend that burst out between two trees. Or at least, he hoped a friend. An elf, who was so focused on his path that he nearly ran his horse right into Gimli. At the last moment Gimli shouted and the elf turned his horse to the side, the animal neighing loudly to show its protest. The elf calmed his steed and then turned to look down at Gimli. At this point, two other horses came up beside him, each also bearing an elf. All elves had dark hair, reminding Gimli of Tanvir. The thought caused a pang of grief to shoot through him, and he tried to push it aside. Now was not the time to grieve.
The first elf who had come upon him spoke, "I presume that you are Gimli the dwarf, friend of our prince?"
"You are correct Master Elf." Gimli stood as straight as he could, and kept his hands on his axe handle, though he had relaxed slightly. "Are the others close behind?"
The elf seemed puzzled, "Others? You mean the armies?" He raised an eyebrow.
Gimli nodded quickly, "Yes. How soon until they arrive? I have urgent news for your king."
"The armies had not left when we were sent out. We are only three scouts, ordered to find you, our Prince and the Lord Aragorn. What is your urgent news?"
Gimli felt his heart stop, "None of the armies have even left! Why are they waiting?"
The elf to his left spoke up, "They are not waiting, merely, it is taking the men and," here he smiled nastily at Gimli, "dwarves longer to prepare."
Gimli bristled at the implied slight, but before he opened his mouth, the elf who was to his right spoke, "Silence your tongue Fendil. Now is not the time for racial disputes. Let the dwarf speak of this urgent news."
The elf in the middle nodded, and Fendil shook his dark hair, but said nothing. The middle elf turned back to Gimli, "What is this you have to say?"
Gimli took a deep breath, "Legolas had gone on to scout ahead of us, and reported back with word that the corsair ships have already left. They are sailing to the sea, they are already underway."
All three elves blinked, the one to the right spoke, "This is indeed very urgent, word to the King Thranduil must be sent immediately. Where are Prince Legolas and Lord Aragorn? We must leave at once."
"They have already ridden ahead, to try and delay the ships. That is why the armies must hurry, even those two have their limits."
The middle elf, trotted up to him, reached over and held out his hand, "Come on then, you shall ride with us and tell the king this news yourself."
"Very well." Gimli reached out, and grumbling, allowed himself to be assisted onto the back of the elf's stallion. With a quick murmur to their steeds, the three turned and rode back the way they had come. Gimli hoped feverently that the King was already marching, and that they wouldn't have to go all the way back to the shelters. If so, then they would be too late for sure.
The trees were thinning, the end of the forest approached. And with the end of the forest, came the beginning of the sand dunes and the sea. Legolas could feel it, rousing the longing inside of him that had become present the day he had listened to the gulls' cry.
They had passed the ships. The black sails were behind them now as their steeds galloped over the terrain. Both Arod and Brego were foaming at the mouth and their bodies shinned with perspiration, but they had not failed. The had given their all and it had been enough to move their masters into a position from which they could act.
Legolas rode up onto a high dune, here the sea became visible to his sight and only a few trees separated him from the wide openness of the shores.
He pulled Arod to a stop, letting the horse move in place from side to side to cool down. His eyes were fixed upon the sea. It stole his breath away. Waves crashed against the shore with a fury unmatched by anything Legolas had ever experienced. Ran pelted down, and wind blew sand through the dry, dune grass. The water was dark and foamed more than the horses did. Its majesty was overwhelming. Usually he would feel lost in it, the vastness and beauty would engulf his grip on reality and he would lose his mind to the call of the waters, thinking of nothing else but of his desire to sail west.
But this was not as he felt now. Instead of feeling like he was losing himself, he felt...different. Powerful. As furious as the waves themselves and as deadly. The wind picked up around him and his eyes flashed with anger. He could feel the sea's intoxicating effects move through him, the force behind it building. The strength of the sea poured into him as he gazed across the waters, he had never felt so indestructible. The sea was not calling to him this time, it was encouraging him.
"Legolas?"
The voice jerked him back from the strange paths his keen mind had wandered onto. The elf tore his eyes away and focused his attention on Aragorn. But he could still feel the sea's presence, latching onto him, a whisper in the back of his head that never completely went silent. It begged to leave behind Middle Earth and go west. He pushed it aside as he always did.
Aragorn looked with worried eyes over his friend, the body was stiff, and the eyes cold and hard. Never had Aragorn seen Legolas in such a dangerous or murderous mood before. He did not think the ocean was helping things.
"Are you all right my friend?"
"I am fine." The elf's response was clipped and to the point.
"Then we should prepare to board, the ships will arrive soon."
Legolas gave a tight nod, and the two turned their horses up towards the bank. Here stood a very tall tree, with many over-hanging branches that reached out across the churning river. If they were lucky, one would reach far enough to allow them to jump over. It was risky, but it was the only way they could see to board. Back by this tree, the woods were still slightly thicker; the ships would be close in to the shore, making the issue of jumping distance less pressing.
Legolas climbed quickly up, glancing back at Aragorn every now and then to see how the ranger fared. But the man needed no help and reached his branch as easily as Legolas had reached his own. The leaves covered them from any sentry's gaze; they could stay here until the right moment for action. The two friends were ready for what was coming ahead. Down below them, their horses had trotted off, understanding that they could not be seen. No chances were being taken, if they failed here, all would be lost.
A few branches separated from each other, the two crouched patiently. It was rewarded. Five minutes later, from around the turn in the river, the first ship appeared. With his sharp eyes, Legolas could make out those who walked upon the decks. He snarled. The prince moved forward a bit, his body twitching with suppressed rage.
The corsairs had pulled an elven woman up from below decks and were teasing at her. Some made grabs and advances, causing her to shriek. Legolas's hands curled into tight fists, and his nails dug into his palms so that they bled. He recognized this woman; she lived in his father's household. Legolas had talked to her on many times and had found her to be a sensible young elf maiden. His blood boiled at the sight of the corsairs laughing and spitting at her.
Aragorn could not see what Legolas did on the deck, but he had heard the screaming. Wiping his brow, he inched closer to the edge of the branch. In only a few more seconds the ships would be under them. Legolas kept his eyes upon the corsairs, burning each face into his memory. They would learn what it meant to rouse the anger of an elf.
Closer and closer they came. Legolas could see now how the corsairs were ripping at the maiden's dress, and one, holding her tightly, forced a kiss upon her mouth. The man stepped back and laughed loudly, to the cheers and approval of his comrades. He grinned, and his teeth were yellow and rotten. Tears streamed down the face of their captive. Aragorn by now could also see what was happening. A shocked and angered expression was upon his face.
At last the ship was finally under them. Legolas exploded out of his hiding place; leaping to the edge of the branch, he swung out and jumped, Aragorn right behind him.
I hope you enjoyed! As I said last time, there are still a few more chapters to go. I'm sorry if these are too short for you.
silvanelf.