Faith

Part Six

by Kellen

Disclaimers and all that are on the prologue.

The cave-in was small, just enough to completely block the passageway and litter the floor with rocks. Only a few were big enough to cause much damage when they came down, but those came down directly into the path of the Elves fleeing the orcs.

Eldabeth fell, unsure if she tripped or was pushed, but either way, it saved her. A cascade of rock crashed down in front of her, cutting off her escape. She put up her hands and tried to roll away from the fall, finding nothing but more rock. She came to her knees, panicked and choking on the dirt in the air, and bumped into her uncle.

Legolas wrapped his arm around her shoulders and guided her to the side of the passageway, hoping for some protection from the rock. They crouched there, unable to go forward or back, trapped by rock on all sides, and waited and prayed.

The sound was deafening, but, contrary to what the elves might have thought, it didn't last all that long. Before long, all that seemed to exist was the soft sound of small stones rolling into their resting places. For a long while, silence reigned in the caverns. Not even the sounds of orcs permeated the walls.

Then, when it seemed the last pebble had stopped rolling, someone moved.

Eldabeth choked on her own breath, gagging on the dirt-clogged air. Small sharp stones rolled off her back and out of her hair as she straightened, her hand on her uncle's shoulder. It was when he rolled limply out of her grasp that she realized something was wrong. Gently, she lowered him to the ground and worriedly gazed into his face. "Uncle?" Sudden panic threatened to overwhelm her as thoughts of how her adar had died rose. Tears welled and spilled onto her cheeks, leaving muddy tracks in her dirt covered face.

"Please be all right," Eldabeth implored quietly as she cradled Legolas' head in her hands. She bit her lip as her fingers became slick with blood. "Please come back to me." She peered into his face, willing his eyes to open. When it was obvious that imploring him to wake up wasn't going to work, she switched tacts. "Legolas, if you don't wake up right now, I will, Valar as my witnesses, leave you here for the orcs. Do you understand?" After a moment, she was quite certain that threats weren't going to work, either. She turned to violence. "Wake up, you bloody overgrown dwarf," she hissed and shook him.

That worked. Legolas' lips moved and Eldabeth bent closer. "Was that a troll?" the elder elf gasped.

Eldabeth shook her head, smiling in relief. " 'Twas a rock, uncle."

"Just one?"

"Most assuredly not," she commented, looking around at the rocky debris. She helped him sit up and watched him carefully as he blinked a few times, obviously trying to make the world quit spinning.

"Did you call me a dwarf?"

"You must be imagining things." Eldabeth prodded at the cut on his temple, then moved to the one behind his ear. "You took some hard hits."

"I'm fine." He brushed off her hands and looked around. As his gaze lighted on the new rock walls, he swallowed. "Well, the orcs won't be in here anytime soon."

There was a ringing thud from the other side of the rock pile behind them. Gleeful shouts in the black tongue reached their ears, and both winced.

"Never mind."

"It does slow them down," Eldabeth offered, still staring and suddenly willing for another cave-in, this time on the orcs instead of the Elves.

Legolas nodded. He bit his lip, staring at the wall the orcs were trying to get through before turning to the other mass of rocks in front of them. Wordlessly, he started digging. Eldabeth picked up his knife and the sword he'd commandeered and joined him after laying them down within easy reach.

For a few moments, the only sounds were of frantic digging. Suddenly, Legolas stopped and turned a dark stare on Eldabeth. She continued her actions for only a moment before slowly turning to him, trepidation written plainly on her face.

"What in the deepest, darkest depths of Moria were you thinking running into a cave?" he snapped. "Of all things, a cave. Eldabeth!"

"I know, I know," she breathed, holding up her hands. "A cave."

"Yes! A cave!" He pinned her with a glare he'd probably picked up from Thranduil on the king's darkest days. "Were you trying to send us to Mandos yourself?"

"No, I think the orcs'll do that just fine," she muttered.

"Eldabeth!"

"Uncle!" she snapped back.

They stared at each other until Eldabeth relented, looking down to the ground. "Dig," Legolas snapped.

She did, scooting a little further away from her irate uncle and continued shoving rocks out of her way even as her vision blurred through the tears. She wiped them away on the back of her hand before she realized just how futile the move was -- they could barely see anyway. She snuck a look at Legolas; he was digging angrily, barely making a dent in the pile. Everytime he moved a rock, his own jerky, angry movements caused a small landslide and covered up the progress he'd made.

Legolas stopped, staring at the mess in front of him. This wasn't working, and Eldabeth's sniffling, quiet sobs weren't helping. He almost snapped at her again before reeling his emotion in; it wouldn't help. It truly wouldn't help. If they had to die, they should at least die as friends, so that they would actually be able to stand each other when they met in Mandos' Halls. He sighed. "Eldabeth."

She drew in a wavery breath and immediately started apologizing. "Uncle, I'm sorry, so sorry, I was just running and I knew I didn't want to see the stars because they reminded me of ada and naneth was mad and Mener was there and all could think about was ada died saving Mener and I couldn't speak to him and then I felt so terrible because I know he knew its because I blamed him and then I felt like I didn't deserve to see the stars and ..." here she finally drew breath, "I'm so incredibly sorry." The breathless speech ended on a sob.

Legolas raised an eyebrow. He knew the child's hurt ran deep and her emotions were unpredictable -- he felt the same way -- but this small speech broke his already bruised and battered heart. "Eldabeth," he said softly, "you always deserve the stars' light." He came closer to her and raised his hand, not quite resting it on her shoulder. "Always."

"Truly?" The word was nearly lost in sniffles.

"Truly." And Legolas was always swear it was the dirt in his eyes and the pain in his head that contributed to the tears on his cheeks.

Curses in black speech arose, and they both winced again. More digging noise was heard.

"I think perhaps we should dig again?"

Legolas nodded. "Wise idea, indeed, Lady."

And so, they dug.

Mener pushed Bronwe to her limits and they ran for the gates of Thranduil's palace. Bronwe, despite her earlier defiance, accepted Mener's handling gracefully and proudly gave every ounce of speed she possessed as they thundered through the forest. Trees seemed to move their roots out of the wood elf's way and closed the path behind them, just in case anything foul sensed the elf's purpose and moved to stop them.

Bronwe hit her stride early, and ran flat out, pounding against the ground. Even normally, this would have been a trying speed for her to keep up, and with every stride, her right leg weakened. Mener sensed the weakness, and did his best to lend her strength, but did not slow her. He knew this was of utmost importance and that Bronwe would never willingly surrender to a slower pace. She hated the foul creatures as much as he, and he knew that she understood Taricir's family was in danger. She had been there when Mener had tracked Legolas and Eldabeth and the orcs to the cave; had been there was Mener paled and whispered prayers and had been more than willing when Mener bid her run home for help.

And, so, it was not entirely unexpected when Bronwe's step faltered. Mener tried to bid her stop, but she refused and pushed further. Her leg folded underneath her and she pitched forward. Mener rolled from her back, landing hard since he only had one arm able to take his weight, but on the whole, all right. Bronwe scrambled upward, pitched forward a few steps and stopped, sides heaving and standing on three legs.

Mener stood still for a moment, gathering his thoughts and catching his breath. "We are not far, Bronwe. Close enough that we may happen upon an elf gathering herbs or out for a walk. Try not to worry." Bronwe snorted; Mener grimaced. Yes, try not to worry. How sage. "Come Bronwe. We walk." He shook his head. "Slowly."

TBC