Chapter 10
Black blood, red blood
Boom, boom, boom. You could hear them coming. There were many. Aragorn clutched his sword. His first fight and he was destined not to fall. The rocs spilled from the forest like ants from their hill. Aragorn leapt into action, noting that Legolas remained by his side, as if to watch him.
" Seems you need the watching," Aragorn muttered, having to watch Legolas' back constantly.
" Shut it," Legolas rolled his eyes, his knives fast a work since he had decided to save his arrows.
The fighting was most intense there. Aragorn ducked, lunged, putting his sword to good use inside the orc bodies. Vile black blood stained its silver blade and his traveling clothes were uncomfortably sticky with it also. Elladan was having a bit of trouble, so many coming at him since he seemed to be the one who was the strongest. Aragorn's eyes were drawn to Esseóre. An arrow had imbedded itself in his shoulder as the orcs pulled him with them.
" No," the roar froze all around him.
He had seen the other Elves, though the twins had tried to block his view. No one deserved the cruelty that would come.
The outnumbered Elves moved quicker, trying to get Esseóre. To be taken by an orc was a fate worse than Mandos even though Mandos was most usually the gathering place for Elves who were captured. The Elves charged after Esseóre, forgetting their own safety. Aragorn fell behind a bit, the years having put more pounds, making him stronger than them, but not as quick. The Elves froze as other orcs appeared behind them, grim smiles sickening the Elves. They were surrounded.
" Put down your weapons."
Aragorn hid behind a tree to watch, careful not to make a sound.
The Elves all looked up at Elladan. Elladan sighed and was the first to put down his weapons which were then kicked over to the side. The orcs laughter and foul language made the Elves cringe as Elrohir, Legolas and Ellolori put down their weapons also. Oiralomë refused, instead making eye contact with Elladan. The Elf bolted, lunging by the guards since he was the fastest of their group. The orcs did not react until he was already out of their sight.
" Let him go. He will be dead in hours. We have friends around here."
Aragorn moved after Oiralomë.
Oiralomë jumped into a tree, hearing the footsteps. A soft call of a nightingale came. Oiralomë remembered one of their group whistling it.
" Estel?"
The mortal came into view. Oiralomë jumped down.
" You saw?"
~*~
Elladan stood straight while the orc leader circled him, cursing, spitting, and pushing the Elf. The 4 other Elves of the group watched in fear. Elladan stared straight-ahead, unfeeling, hatred bubbling under his calm exterior. Give him a weapon and he would have single handedly killed all the orcs around him.
" Answer me, wrench."
The blow sent him sprawling. Guffaws came from the orcs watching. Elladan used his sleeve to wipe off his blood mouth, standing again. The echoing metallic sound of a sword being drawn made him breathe in quickly, sending a prayer to Varda for a quick death. The tip of it began a trail upon his right cheek, ending by his lower jaw. The trickle of blood made him twitch his jaw, but other than that, he did not flinch nor show any pain. The Elves, mainly Elrohir began to struggle when the same tip trailed down his brother's neck. They threw Elladan to the ground and then all the orcs joined in on the brutal kicking game.
" Let him be," Elrohir yelled, hearing the sharp crack and his brother's cry.
Heads, ugly heads turned towards him.
" Why, they are twins," an orc began, " DO they not remind you of Elrond?"
" I bet you they are both his sons. Saw your mother years ago. Lovely dame she was-"
Elladan forgot his pain in that moment, lunging at the orc, using the orc's own sword to drive it through him. One of the foul creatures brought its sword through Elladan's right chest. Elladan fell back, breathing rapidly, though his hate filled blue eyes never wavered from his tormentors.
" Throw him aside. Let the goblins eat him. He will be dead soon. Wish I could see them rip the flesh off him," the leader snarled.
Elladan was thrown against a tree. AN orc lifted a bow, the arrow filling where the sword had been. Elladan winced. It had just trapped him against the tree.
Elrohir gave a loud cry, seeing his brother's pain and making a move towards him. He was swiftly kicked into subordination. Elrohir looked back, staring at his brother. At least one of them would survive this. The soft song of a nightingale played a familiar tune only the Elves would understand and the orcs hate, but from where it came, they could not find. Elrohir smiled. Estel. Elladan would be safe.
" Gilthoniel, A! Elbereth. We will remember we who-" Esseóre dared to sing the lyrics.
The orcs brutally threw him down. Elrohir, Legolas and Ellolori turned their heads, unable to do anything, but listen to the screams that forever branded themselves in their dreams.
~*~
Oiralomë kept a grueling pace. He was days from the camp. Aragorn had gone back to follow the orcs. Glorfindel should still be there, he hoped. Oiralomë picked up the pace. He had all their lives depending on him. He did not want to be the only one of their party that lived.
~*~
Estel broke the arrow, enabling Elladan to move away from the tree. Estel ripped parts of his tunic, quickly stuffing it into the holes. The wound on the right side of Elladan's face had already begun to heal, but the pink edging showed it would leave a light scar. Other than the chest would, Elladan was only bruised.
" How is Elrohir?" Elladan asked.
" They know I am trailing them. Last I saw they were beating Esseóre for singing to Varda," Aragorn answered.
" They know Elrohir is a son of Elrond. I cannot believe they let me go," Elladan slowly stood, testing out his arm that he had feared was broken.
" They would have loved to watch goblins come and eat you while alive," Aragorn reminded grimly.
Elladan silently picked up the discarded weapons. The bows were broke, but fixable and the orcs had not bothered to dump out the quivers or break the sword blades. The 2 found a place to hide the remaining weapons before setting out after the orcs.
~*~
Oiralomë could hear horse hooves. Blood pounded so loudly in his head that he had not heard it until the hooves were nearly upon him. He hid. The rider stopped nearby.
" Young Elf, I know you're here," the rider faced him.
Oiralomë relaxed, exiting his hiding place. It was Mithrandir.
~*~
The 4 Elves huddled together, mostly around the softly whimpering Esseóre. Elrohir was trying to remember his father's many healing techniques. Glarg, the one they had surmised to be somewhat of the leader, sneered from his place nearby. The 4 Elves were so beautiful; even the one beaten still glimmered with an inner light. Glarg rose, his eyes fixed on the only one with light colored hair. Such were rarities among the Elves now.
Ellolori noticed the orc's movement. He glanced at Legolas who was too busy helping Elrohir to care for his own well being.
" Leg-"
Legolas gave a sharp cry as he was pulled up by his hair. He lashed out before one hand pulled his slim wrists together.
" Here, do as you wish," Glarg threw him towards a couple orcs, " But do not kill him or take him. That pleasure I want."
Elrohir made a motion to stand, taking the position as leader since his brother was gone. Legolas' headshake and dark glare stilled the Elf's movements. The Elf titled his head proudly as he was led away. Elrohir leaned over Esseóre. Tears fell from Elrohir's brown eyes to the ground. First his brother, now Legolas, none of them would escape this, this time unscathed. These orcs were bent on turning them all and they were doing a good job of it, singling out the strong ones first. Grunts and cackles came from nearby. Ellolori had the strength to watch it, respect rising for the Prince when the Elf refused to cry out.
" Do you see that, Elves? Soon your blood will litter the ground. Or, we might keep you all for our enjoyment. Haven't seen such pretty male Elves for a while now," Glarg said softly with a hideous smile.
The 3 Elves cringed. They'd rather go through the very fires of Mordor than be a slave to the orcs.
~*~
Aragorn's hand found his sword hilt. Elladan put a hand on his, shaking his head. They could see Legolas from here. The large band watching with a sick amusement as the 3 or 4 orcs tried different, but painful methods to get the Prince to cry out. Legolas was no stranger to this. The twins and him had been captured one time before for a day. They had never told anyone for no outward scars had been issued.
Aragorn's lips formed the familiar tune. It was the only one that he knew would give them hope. The tune to Varda's song resonated through the woods, making the orcs growl and whimper in pain at the sheer beauty. Elladan joined in, forming the harmony.
~*~
Elrohir smiled, hearing the 2 distinct notes, caused by 2 people. Hopefully Estel and Elladan. His eyes hardened as he glared at the orcs.
" A! Elbereth Gilthoniel! Silvern penna míriel o menal aglar elenath," Elrohir lifted his voice to the song.
The orcs growled louder, trying to drown out the music with their clamor. Legolas' soft voice from where he laid curled up was barely heard even as the other 2 joined in. The orcs kicked the lying one even more, trying to make him be quiet. Glarg's hands found Elrohir's neck. He pushed the Elf harshly upon a tree. Elrohir continued to sin, his brown eyes like the hard bark he was pushed again. He was surprised when Glarg's hand touched his hair.
" You are so beautiful Elf."
Elrohir's eyes widened, making a motion to push away.
Elladan cringed when the vile creature's lips found his brother's. Elrohir was busily trying to do all he could to remove the body trying to crush him against the tree. Elladan strung his bow, the harmony dying off. The twin's hand trembled with rage as he let go. Aragorn joined in, picking off the unknowing orcs.
" Go, I will keep an eye out," Aragorn urged.
Elladan stood from the darkness. The few remaining orcs turned on their heel and ran, babbling about a dead Elf resurrected. Elladan strode over to his brother, puling off his clean under shirt as he did so.
" Go get washed."
Elrohir sent him a thankful glance, taking the shirt to use as a cloth, already using his sleeve to furiously wipe his mouth and spitting with every breath.
Ellolori stood from Esseóre's side to join Elladan by Legolas'. Legolas' eyes were shut tightly, his body curled up in a ball, still softly singing. Elladan shook the Elf, but Legolas only continued, his brow furrowing a bit more into his head.
" Legolas," Elladan said softly, " Teli ad galad (Come back to light)."
" Did they…" Ellolori trailed off.
" They have begun it," Elladan said abruptly, " We must get him to a more skilled healer. The horses fled back towards the camp, so they should know we are in trouble soon."
Elrohir returned, looking to have rubbed his lips raw. The twin still spat with every step. He pulled up a sword and jabbed it into the dead Glarg, muttering curses all the while.
" Aragorn, we are ready to go," Elladan called, helping Legolas up with Ellolori helping on the other side.
" Aragorn? The son of Arathorn? Estel is that Aragorn?" Ellolori asked softly.
Elladan nodded his head.
" Aragorn, come now. Elrohir will need help with Esseóre if he cannot walk."
Silence still returned his call.
" Maybe he went out too far. Come on," Elladan led the way.
Esseóre faired better than Legolas, able to walk and conscious. Elladan retrieved the weapons, returning them to their rightful owners.
" Aragorn," Elladan called impatiently again.
Elrohir looked around worriedly. Twas not like Estel to play games when he knew people were injured.
" Estel, if you are up to-"
Ellolori cut him off, picking up a fallen small knife. Elladan's face took on a pained look at the blood, which stained the knife Elrond had given out long ago. Crimson red human blood stained it. Estel's blood.
AN: Ok, I admit it, I did have a remote idea for this chapter and I did write a scene, but someone (an anonymous person) asked that Aragorn get really hurt. Here we go…