The Battle

They were cornered. The orcs kept up a barrage of arrows in an attempt to keep them where they were. Garuk was pleased. These two would be first; their blood would stain the rocks of the mountains. Since losing his pet some five years ago, Garuk had made his way back to the tunnels of the Misty Mountains gathering rogue and wandering orcs to him as he went. Never had he forgotten Rivendell. It was the place where his precious one awaited him. He had scouted the area many times, using the rune he had burned into the earth as a marker. Frustration had mounted as we realized that he could not approach the elven realm. It was invisible to him and thus protected. But many travelers went to and from the place, elven and human alike.

He had witnessed the arrival of the Lord of Mirkwood and had waited. But the seasons had passed and the cold chill of winter had driven him back to his lair. By the time of spring rains, the elven brat was back and safe in Mirkwood. Garuk had decapitated two of his lieutenants in anger. He knew that the elves of Mirkwood had become ceaselessly vigilant and it was impossible to stand against them now.

Years passed and Garuk had contented himself with forays into human villages and waylaying unwary travelers. But one day his spies had reported the unexpected departure of the prince from the fortress of Thranduil, but again the news had reached his ears too late. By the time he picked up the trail, the elf was ensconced once again in Rivendell. Garuk bided his time and slowly realization dawned. If he could not get to the elves, he had to make them come to him. He regretted that it was not he who had seen the flaxen haired elf return to Rivendell, otherwise this skirmish would be unnecessary. Although Garuk had to admit any excuse to kill elves was a good one.

The hunter's moon was up. It was almost perfectly round and gave off a pale but steady yellow light. Aragorn squinted up at the sky in disgust and said. "Perfect, just what we need."

He casually shot and killed another orc that had tried to sneak up and around them. The bodies of nine orcs littered the mountain slope. At his side Legolas quietly counted their remaining arrows, using his fingers as eyes. He touched the shafts of each in turn quickly. There were only twenty five left.

"At least it works both ways my friend, they cannot hide from us either." He said, glancing at his human companion quickly. He had been staring at a line of low boulders that stretched more or less in a line all the way down the slope. They stopped about three hand spans from the tree line. Unfortunately the first boulder in that line was five hand spans away from their refuge. The orcs were concentrated mostly to their left and across from them. The boulders lay to their right.

An arrow suddenly buried itself in the earth near his booted foot, sending a spray of pebbles and dirt in his face. His lips pulled back in a silent snarl. He quickly divided their small number of arrows into two piles. He pulled an unwary Aragorn closer to him and said pointing.

"See that line of rocks there?"

"I see them." Aragorn responded puzzled.

"When the clouds next hide the moon's face, run for them. Keep running until you get to the trees, stay in the tree tops as long as you can. I will be right behind you."

Legolas' eyes were bright and burning with intense emotion. It was the rush that warriors felt on the eve of a battle, part fear and part anger and part excitement. Aragorn licked his suddenly dry lips; he knew they did not stand much chance of surviving that run. But their arrows were almost spent and the orcs were drawing closer despite their efforts. Legolas put twelve arrows in his quiver and held one loose but ready. The other twelve he gave to Aragorn. If he got the chance, he would use them. The clouds, heavy with unspent rain drifted achingly slow towards the moon. But at last darkness descended on the mountain's face.

"Now!" Legolas whispered giving Aragorn a shove. The elf leapt straight up, gracefully and almost impossibly to the top of the boulder behind which they had been hiding. He fired his arrows in quick succession, targeting the brutish beasts as they clumsily tried to find cover. Eleven, twelve, thirteen… turning, his golden hair spilling over his shoulders, he started to run. He leapt from the rock twisting in midair to land crouched on the top of the first boulder in the long line. He threw himself to the ground as an arrow whistled past his face. He heard the horrible bellow of an orc and his heart began to pound in his chest as he remembered that day five years ago.

Pushing himself to his feet, he ran full speed down the mountain side, trusting to his senses to guide him. Ahead he heard the shifting, scrambling, slipping sounds of Aragorn who was running full out. Not an arrow pierced the air, but the earth trembled as the horde of orcs, like a stampede of bulls gave chase. He did not stop to wonder why. Without warning light, pale but steady made him blink. He saw some ten spans in front of him the fleeing back of his friend. He could also see that the trees were close, much closer than he expected.

"DOWN!" the shouted command came from ahead. Without stopping to think or question why, both Aragorn and Legolas threw themselves to the stony ground. The singing of arrows filled the sky over their heads as elf after elf shot with determined precision at the hundred odd orcs that thundered down the slopes. Half their number dropped, stopped dead in their tracks. There was another bellow and as a body they wheeled, running with all their might away from the wrath of the elves.

"Daro!" Glorfindel shouted as some elves started to follow them."Get back to Rivendell. Get your horses and supplies. We will do this properly or not at all. I do not want one orc to leave here alive, not one!"

The warriors turned and headed back down the slope at a run. Glorfindel turned to the fallen companions. Elladan was gently helping Aragorn to his feet. The ranger's face was nicked with tiny cuts. Elrohir was supporting Legolas as he struggled to stay upright. He had fallen awkwardly and his knees and legs were bruised.

"Are you hurt?" asked Glorfindel

"Only my pride," Legolas returned with a wry grin.

"It is good to see you brother." Elladan said hugging the ranger.

"Elladan, you don't know how good it was to see you, all of you." Aragorn returned grinning broadly. The three elves chuckled. "You have Legolas' horse to thank for that." Elrohir chimed in.

"Sule!" Legolas exclaimed "Is she well?"

"Only a wood elf would at such a question," said Elladan staring up at the sky. Before Legolas could respond, Glorfindel put a hand on his shoulders.

"Come young ones, we have much to do this night, this greeting can he left for a later, safer time."

Garuk ran with a burning heart and a pounding head. He had come very close to killing the very thing he desired most. In his mind's eye he could still see the elf as he leapt, turning elegantly in the air to land artfully on a craggy perch. He longed to run his calloused palms along those lithe legs. The orc who had fired that last arrow had not lived to repeat his mistake. Garuk knew that the elves would be after them soon. But they did not know that he was prepared. Hidden at measured intervals were several of his troops. They were to herd the elves to the area where the majority of his force lay. There the killing would begin. But he must be careful. Every orc in his command must be made aware that one elf was not to be touched.

The company of elves numbered two hundred. Glorfindel divided them into four battalions. He would lead the first; Elladan would lead the next, Elrohir the third. The last he left to Veren a seasoned campaigner against the orcs and his dear friend. The companies moved off, riding abreast of each other. Lord Elrond watched them go, a worried frown on his face. He did not like this. The orc forays had had a malicious pattern to them that nagged at his mind. Even though all the casualties had been on the side of the enemy, he was not appeased. There was a larger force out there somewhere. Yet he trusted in the skill of his friends Glorfindel and Veren to gain victory. Yet still something nagged at his mind.

He had had a brief reunion with Estel, for the young man had been determined to join the company in the defense of his home. Legolas too had insisted on going. Elrond had tried to dissuade the young elf.

"There is no need for you to go Legolas, Glorfindel and Veren are apt warriors." He had said with concern for Elrond knew that Legolas had not faced orcs in battle since his abduction. He was worried that he was not truly prepared and the upcoming battle would be too much for him. His mind was heavily against the youth going. Legolas however insisted.

"I need to do this my Lord. I need to."

Legolas was indeed afraid but he knew he needed to prove to himself that he had overcome his painful past; otherwise he would always live in the shadows.

The elves rode up the grassy slope away to the south. They spread out forming a loose V. Glorfindel took point to the left Elladan right. The moon was bright. It lit up the plains as they rode slowly. Even so the attack came as a surprise. Black arrows suddenly pierced the air accompanied by whoops and hollers from harsh orc voices. Glorfindel responded shouting, "Gurth an glamhoth!" His company attacked, leaving the others to circle around, cutting off any attempts at escape. The orcs were cut down rapidly as elven arrows picked them off with fatal accuracy in the moonlight. A few horses were injured slightly, but could still be ridden.

Three times more they were attacked. Each time the elves prevailed, for the attackers were small in number, but their ultimate goal was gained. The elves had spent at least half of their arrows and many horses carried two warriors instead of one.

As they approached the trees of the old wood Lord Glorfindel signaled a halt. He could feel the presence of the orcs among the trees. He held up his right hand and let it drop. Swiftly the elves dismounted.

Garuk felt the press of fear as he watched them come. The ambush was well laid, but it had been laid for mounted riders, not archers on foot. He growled deep in his throat as they stopped, arrows pointed at the trees where his small army hid.

Legolas held his breath as the elf lord gave the signal to hold. His bow was taunt, his arrow notched as were the bows of every other elven and lone, part elven warrior. They were not going to enter the wood. The orcs would have to come to them.

Dismayed Garuk thought quickly. His rapid fire instructions to his closest lieutenant spread to the twenty orcs nearest him. Garuk then bellowed into the night and the orcs moved forward, murder and rage in their hearts.

Arrows from both sides rained down from the night sky. The orcs crashed into the elven fighters in an attempt to use their superior weight to grind them into the ground.

The orcs numbered four hundred.

Aragorn ducked as the curved blade sliced through the air where his neck had been seconds before. Sweeping his own blade in a smooth arc he cut through the leg of the orc. It fell screeching in pain. He silenced it forever with a quick thrust of his sword.

Legolas shot off four quick arrows killing three orcs before they were upon him. The scent of their bodies nearly made him gag as he twirled his knives cutting across the throat of one and stabbing through the eye of another. Two of them rammed into him causing him to stagger back and fall to the ground. Reacting in panic he twisted left then right slashing at their hands as they grappled to subdue him. The orcs fell back screaming in rage. Four arrows sang through the air catching them in the throat and head.

"Legolas?" Glorfindel called, for it was he who had shot the orcs. Legolas jumped to his feet unhurt and nodded heartfelt thanks to the elf lord. But, before he could gather his wits, four burly orcs slammed into him again.

"Aragorn! Elladan! They are trying to take the prince!' Glorfindel shouted swinging his sword at a bear of an orc that challenged him suddenly. The elf lord had noticed that the orcs attacking the prince carried no weapons. Obviously they wanted him alive. He would be dead before he let that happen, the elfling had been through enough. He swore under his breath as the orc he was fighting clubbed him in the side. He spun slicing at the offending arm that held the club. The orc blocked well and all he chopped was wood.

Aragorn dived toward his friend upon hearing the words of the elf lord. He kicked at the unprotected side of an orc that straddled the wildly thrashing prince and ran his sword through the shoulder of one that was desperately trying to hold onto the prince's legs. He could hear Legolas screaming in rage. A fist smacked his jaw soundly and Aragorn staggered backward momentarily stunned.

At the reprieve two more orcs lifted the prince into the air, but Legolas was in a state of hysterical frenzy and he arched against them and let himself drop downward. The move broke the hold of the orc that held his arms and his upper body hit the ground painfully.

Elladan, dispatching the orc that had tried to gut him, knelt in the high grass and released two arrows at the orcs that held his friend. One stabbed through the hands of one, the other entered the ear of the other.

Aragorn grabbed at Legolas' shoulders and dragged him backward. Four elves formed a small wall in front of them, firing at the orcs that tried to surge forward.

Aragorn knelt over the elf and felt along his friend's body for any injuries he might have received as the clouds once again hid the moon light.

"Let me up Aragorn!" Aragorn moved back and Legolas scrambled to his feet. He was panting with fear. As the moon rode out from behind the clouds once more Aragorn saw that his friend's blue eyes were impossibly huge in his delicate face. His face was smudged with dirt and dried blood. His hair was in disarray and hung in ragged strands about him. His tunic was torn in several places and his weapons were gone.

"Legolas, Aragorn, take these horses and ride for home." It was Elrohir, with a bloodied face and a ripped tunic. He had braved three orcs to secure the horses.

"I will follow you, go now!" Elladan called as he came running up to them a bow held loosely in one hand.

Legolas and Aragorn mounted swiftly and wheeling in unison took off at a dead run for Rivendell. Elladan whistled piercingly into the night above the sound of the raging battle. His stallion Lacho galloped forward trampling two orcs that stood in his way. He leapt onto his steed's back as the horse barely broke stride as it swept toward him, he loosed two more arrows at a bold orc that was creeping up behind his brother.

"Be safe muindor nin." He called back to Elrohir as he rode away into the wind. Elrohir did not answer. His full attention was needed as three orcs attacked him simultaneously.

Garuk had stayed back in the shelter of the forest as the battle progressed; now he shook with uncontrollable fury as his prize rode away. No! He would not be cheated, he would not! He ran like a mad thing, crashing through the undergrowth until he came to his own mount. The warg snarled at him for his sudden appearance had startled it. He had killed her former master just two days ago and she was wary of him still. However the angry malice that rolled off him quickly subdued her. He clambered onto her shoulders and hit her flank with the flat of his sword. The warg broke into an angry loping gallop. Garuk yanked at the cruel bit directing the beast to the north.

Legolas and Aragorn leaned low over the necks of their steeds as the elven horses rode like the wind across the open plain. Legolas clutched onto Sule'smane as though it was the rudder of his floundering ship. Panic made his body tremble and he tried hard to calm his racing heart. Both riders heard over the pounding of their horses hooves the galloping of another rider coming up fast behind them. Elladan, thought Aragorn, slowing slightly to let his brother catch up.

Garuk took aim carefully as he rode. The arrow flew with swift precision catching the white horse in the upper leg. She squealed in pain as her left leg buckled under her. Legolas was flung head first and he hit the ground hard. He rolled once then lay limp as a doll, eyes closed.

The only weapon Aragorn had left was his sword and he was too far away to use it. He gave a cry of rage as he turned his horse. The orc had stopped, leapt off his beast and begun to lope over to the still form on the ground. He shouted again, drew his sword and charged the orc.

Garuk stopped having temporarily forgotten the human, the same accursed human who had taken his pet. He growled and readied his short but powerful bow.

Heedless of the danger Aragorn rode like a demented thing closing the gap between them. Garuk released his arrow.

Elladan watched it all happen as though time itself had slowed to play out the scene before him with utmost clarity. He saw the black arrow fly, singing a song of death on the wind. He saw Estel deflect the blow bringing up his sword to his chest. Impossibly swift, another arrow came on the night wind and this time he saw it hit his brother, taking him low in the shoulder. Estel jerked and seemed to fall forever, hitting the earth like a dead man. He realized that the voice that was screaming was his own. The orc moved with a slow sideways skitter reaching for the long golden hair of the fallen prince. Elladan did not know when he fitted arrow to bow, but with a mighty shout he loosed two deadly barbs at the orc… and missed.

Garuk jumped backward and the deadly projectiles hissed past his chest and head. He snarled and turned. It was another elf, an enraged elf. He quickly pulled his dagger from his belt and held it under the chin of the golden haired prince. The elf stopped. He was astride his horse still, bow taunt. Two arrows were aimed straight at his head.

"Release them and he dies." Garuk growled bending Legolas' head backward.

"Let him go beast!" Elladan's words were cold and clipped. He looked at Legolas. The prince's eyes were closed and blood trickled down his face from beneath his golden hair.

"That one'll die for sure if yer do not tend ter 'im soon." Garuk said pointing with his jaw at the bleeding human. Elladan did not need to look to know that the brute was right. His heart did a crazy dance in his chest. He could not let his brother die. He could not let that thing take his friend.

Garuk saw the indecision on his face and began dragging the elf by the hair toward his mount.

"Stop!" Elladan shouted dismounting sideways, all the while holding his bow steadily on the orc. He walked forward until he stood over Aragorn's body.

"There is no one to help you elf. You are alone and far from home." Garuk taunted.

At that moment Aragorn groaned and Elladan risked a glance down. Estel's face was pale and already bathed in cold sweat. He needed to get him home to their father, now. With a wretched cry Elladan dropped to a crouch over Estel, he dropped the bow to ascertain exactly how bad the wound was.

Garuk grabbed his prize and binding him hand and foot, quickly tossed him onto the shoulders of the warg. He looked back. The beautiful tear filled eyes of the dark haired elf glared at him with an intensity that made him reel. The silver tears streaked the delicate face and his visible torment was a joy to behold. Garuk bowed low to the elf and turned away kicking at the flanks of his beast.
Elladan lost control.

Notes

Gurth an glamhoth Death to the din-horde

Darostop

Muindor nin my brother

To

thank you for your kind words.

Grumpy I hope this pleased you.