*Disclaimer* I wish I owned something. But I don't.
A/N: No reviews? A lesser person might feel hurt. Oh well. The plot REALLY picks up here. And plus, Rose get to battle with words, not weapons. I know which one I'm better at...
Chapter 19-Who Says There's Calm Before the Storm?
Rosellyn stomped off, not hearing Forest call after her. She knew what she had said was stupid and irrational, and she didn't need Delaney to tell her that. But she was feeling stupid and irrational, so she felt better after yelling at him.
But where should she go now? There was nowhere else to go that would be safe for her. Well, not safe, but she couldn't go anywhere without running into people she didn't want to run into. On a sudden inspiration, she changed course, heading deeper into the woods. She knew them like the back of her hand. Nothing could harm her in here; she knew plenty of little hidey holes if something hap-
Later, she cursed her stupidity. The hidden noose was child's play. If she had been thinking clearly, she would have spotted it instantly.
But she hadn't been thinking clearly, and she found herself looking up at the forest floor. Sighing exasperatedly, she reached for Diamondsong. She wasn't panicking, not yet. This wasn't good Elven hithlain rope, just cheap Man-made stuff. She could cut it easily. As she was unsheathing her knife, she stopped and listened. Then she started to panic. Someone had obviously been watching the traps. And they were coming. She hacked at the rope, frenzied. In her haste, she dropped the knife.
Groaning, she inspected the cut made in the rope. It was almost broken. If she could just reach her knife...she reached out her arm. Nothing doing; she was too far off the ground. She bent in a position that made her stomach and back muscles scream and pulled the rope off as best she could. The figures, she was in no mood to gauge how many, were coming closer, and quickly. Suddenly, the rope parted with a snap and she fell to the ground, landing painfully on her neck and back, knocking her wind out.
She lay there for a few moments, trying painfully to move. She pulled herself up and started to run, then thought better of it. There was no way she could run in this state, and she wasn't about to try. She looked around for her pursuers. They were on her left, but even with her Elven eyes, they were still far off. They wouldn't be able to see her. She looked at the tree that had held her captive, considering. Then, she jumped up, trying to reach the nearest branch. It fell short of her fingers.
She looked around frantically, trying to find a shorter, more reachable branch. She found one a few yards away and leapt to it, climbing with strength born of desperation into the upper canopy. She waited, chest heaving with exertion. She wished she had some sort of missle weapon, but she didn't have anything except Diamondsong, Trustworthy, and smaller knives, one tucked in each boot. The small knives were the right weight for throwing, if there was a small enough party coming her way. If not...she was in trouble. She hoped it was a small party.
It was a fair-sized party, a dozen Men; not big enough for imminent death on her part, but not small enough to risk knife throwing. She watched, trying to calm the cursedly loud breathing. They didn't seem to hear it, but she convinced that, any second now, they would look up, see her, and that would be the end. The one who seemed to be in charge threw down the broken rope ends in disgust.
"Cut right through it, he did. Like an hot knife running through butter!"
"Could he have gone far?" asked one Man, towards the back. The Man in charge seemed to be thinking hard about that. In her opinion, it looked painful.
"Well...seems as though he'd have fallen a fair way, landing on his hands and feet, like Elves are supposed to do. That might slow him up a bit. He'd have made it back to the city, if he had a lick of sense. They know we're moving in. Let's run back and sound the alarm! War's coming, tell the warlord!" The same Man in the back spoke up again.
"I don't want to fight Elves! Dirty good fighters they are, and they might outnumber us!" He received a wallop upside the head for his opinions.
"Knucklehead! So what? They don't know what we're about, they're unprepared!"
"But the one we caught..." Another wallop.
"That's why we've got to get back to camp, simpleton! So we take them by surprise!" She smiled slightly.
"I say, an officer striking an enlisted soldier? With name calling to boot? Not very military like, if you want my opinion." They immediately got their weapons out and searched around wildly, trying to find her.
"None asked for your opinion, now show yourself!" She chuckled slightly.
"What about the one that got away? The longer you stand here looking for me, why, the closer he gets to home..." The officer looked panicky and undecided. Then, he kicked two of the Men.
"You, and you, get back to camp and warn the others! We'll deal with this one." She took a risk and threw the small weighted knives, pinning both in the necks of the unfortunate scouts.
"Come now, only two? Do you really think you know what you're up against?"
"You spawn of evil!" shrieked the officer, "Come out and fight like a Man!"
"Ah, you see, therein lies the problem. I am not a Man, in any sense of the word. So, I'll fight on my own terms, if that's not a problem." The officer milled through the ten Men he had left and picked the five smallest. That left her with six. Not precisely the number she had hoped for, but well enough.
"All of you, run for camp, and quickly if you want to see another dawn!" They sped off like the Nazgul were on their tails.
"If you insist playing like this, who am I to stand in the way? I do so love seeing children at their games; so charming and innocent."
"Soon as I know where you are, missy, it's death for you!" So, they had finally paid attention to her voice pitch.
"Thank you, but I believe I'll have to take you up on that one later. Busy agenda, you know." She plucked a single solitary leaf and let it drift downward, knowing it would take them years, if left to their own devices. The soldiers watched it fall to their feet, then leapt away, as if it were some sort of poison.
"It came from over there," said the officer, pointing about two yards to the left of her. She inwardly sighed. Men. They huddled together and moved forward slowly, keeping their eyes to the canopy. She quickly checked out how high she was. The fall wouldn't kill her, not if she had them to cushion it.
"By the Valar! You people couldn't find water after a rainstorm!" They stopped dead and looked around. She braced herself, knowing she couldn't hold it off too long if she had any chance of taking them by surprise. But it was a really long way down... "This is for...for...for Mirkwood!" she yelled, closed her eyes, and threw herself down.
She took out three in one go by landing on them. She unsheathed Trustworthy and Diamondsong with a flourish, showing off all her skill. They backed off for a moment, taken aback, then they smiled. Only a girl. She narrowed her eyes. She'd prove to them all what girls could and could not do. ~Preach it to them, sistah. And remember, actions speak louder than words.~ She didn't understand the first part, but the second was all too clear. She watched, knives at ready, while they made a semi-circle around her. If worst came to worse, she could turn tail and run, even though that option didn't appeal to her warrior's nature. The officer smiled evilly.
"Got you now, girl. Scouts are on their way, you're dying here...go to the grave knowing Mirkwood will soon be under the rule of the Riders! Get her, you two!" She had to smile. Typical Man: put his foot in his mouth and sent others to make sure he held out. She eyed the weapons the two unsure Men held at ready. Blessedly, the archers had been sent out with the scouts. One held a spear, which was more of a close-range weapon than a throwing kind, and the other held a sword, with a bag of darts in his belt pouch.
"That's what you think. You'll have to get past me first."
"With pleasure," said the spear-holder, rushing her. She knocked the spear head aside with Trustworthy and chopped the weapon in half with Diamondsong. She stamped on his hand before he could pick it up again and knocked the pommel of Diamondsong against his temple with punishing force. Sword-holder backed off.
"You...you killed him!" She checked his pulse, never taking her eyes off her attacker. Then she shook her head.
"No, but I'll kill you if you ask nicely."
"You're just bluffing," sneered the officer. She turned to him.
"Care to put your money where your mouth is, or will you have witless here foot the bill?" The soldier sneered at her, but pushed Sword-holder in front of him. She smiled mockingly. "I thought so. Step right up." The sword-holder rushed her with a yell, but not a very confident one. She deflected his direct thrust and parried with all her skill, which wasn't much. She knew how to use her knives ably, but fencing, especially against a swordsman with only her knives, was not part of her training.
To her dismay, she was kept on defense almost all the time. She trusted to her mobility skills to keep her alive; the second she couldn't move was the last second of her life. She saw an opening, and, for once, didn't hesitate to follow it. She ducked under the sword, blade just barely missing her ear, and slashed for his hand. He cursed, then switched hands. -Just my luck,- she thought. -The one good swordsman in the entire army, most likely--and he can use both hands! -
But now, at least she had some sort of advantage over him. He carried his wounded hand limply at his side, adding a bit of extra dead weight. Not that it was much of an advantage; he was just as good with his left hand as he was with his right. The fight began in earnest yet once more, the officer merely looking on. She was grateful for this; she needed to focus all of her attention on the enemy in front of her.
Suddenly, moving impossibly fast, his sword slithered under her guard and slashed downward. She screamed as a streak of white-hot pain tore down her stomach. She managed to turn away his blade one more time before she was down. She collapsed on her back, scrunching her eyes shut against the firebrand that had pushed itself against her. Slowly, she opened them to inspect the wound. Not fatally deep, but not superficially shallow, either. She would live, unless the Man killed her right now.
That seemed to be his intent; when she stuggled to sit up, he pushed her back down again with the toe of his boot. Then the officer shoved him out of the way and took his sword, pressing the edge against her throat. Raw fear coursed its way through her veins. There was dead silence in the forest except for her spasmodic breathing, her chest heaving up and down, up and down. The minutes stretched into eternity.
"I know you," said the swordman suddenly. "You're the little girl that was 'captured' by that weird chap with the pale hair, the one who killed Haltred. Bet you didn't know I was watching you, eh?"
"Hiding in the shadows, were you?" she asked, not able to restrain herself. "I never liked snakes to begin with." Hate spasmed across his face, but the officer held up a hand.
"Listen!" he said, suddenly. They all listened. There it was; the sound of an army moving through a forest. The officer turned his eyes on her, smiling maliciously. "Any other time, I'd invite you back to camp...but it looks as though I'll have my pick of Elven girls by tonight. No hard feelings, eh?"
"None at all," she replied, and, curling up into a fetal position, kicked out at him just as he raised the sword for a killing blow. Not expecting an attack, he was completely taken by surprise. The sword flew from his hand and he fell hard on his back, wind knocked out. Before the swordman could do anything, she flung Trustworthy somewhat awkwardly; instead of killing the Man, it buried itself in his leg. She pulled it out, wincing, then retreived her proper throwing knives. The army was much closer now; she hobbled as quickly as she could, tearing the sleeves of her shirt to make a rough bandage as she went. It wasn't bleeding, but it was painful, terribly so. She made it back to Mirkwood and collapsed into the arms of a startled-looking Elf, she didn't care enough to immediately identify who.
"Dear...Rosellyn...whatever happened?" It was Antiphony.
"Anti...Rider army...coming here now! Attack! Tell Awaren! Get everyone... ready..." She fainted dead away from pain, exhaustion, and blood loss.
A/N: Well, that can't be a good sign...
A/N: No reviews? A lesser person might feel hurt. Oh well. The plot REALLY picks up here. And plus, Rose get to battle with words, not weapons. I know which one I'm better at...
Chapter 19-Who Says There's Calm Before the Storm?
Rosellyn stomped off, not hearing Forest call after her. She knew what she had said was stupid and irrational, and she didn't need Delaney to tell her that. But she was feeling stupid and irrational, so she felt better after yelling at him.
But where should she go now? There was nowhere else to go that would be safe for her. Well, not safe, but she couldn't go anywhere without running into people she didn't want to run into. On a sudden inspiration, she changed course, heading deeper into the woods. She knew them like the back of her hand. Nothing could harm her in here; she knew plenty of little hidey holes if something hap-
Later, she cursed her stupidity. The hidden noose was child's play. If she had been thinking clearly, she would have spotted it instantly.
But she hadn't been thinking clearly, and she found herself looking up at the forest floor. Sighing exasperatedly, she reached for Diamondsong. She wasn't panicking, not yet. This wasn't good Elven hithlain rope, just cheap Man-made stuff. She could cut it easily. As she was unsheathing her knife, she stopped and listened. Then she started to panic. Someone had obviously been watching the traps. And they were coming. She hacked at the rope, frenzied. In her haste, she dropped the knife.
Groaning, she inspected the cut made in the rope. It was almost broken. If she could just reach her knife...she reached out her arm. Nothing doing; she was too far off the ground. She bent in a position that made her stomach and back muscles scream and pulled the rope off as best she could. The figures, she was in no mood to gauge how many, were coming closer, and quickly. Suddenly, the rope parted with a snap and she fell to the ground, landing painfully on her neck and back, knocking her wind out.
She lay there for a few moments, trying painfully to move. She pulled herself up and started to run, then thought better of it. There was no way she could run in this state, and she wasn't about to try. She looked around for her pursuers. They were on her left, but even with her Elven eyes, they were still far off. They wouldn't be able to see her. She looked at the tree that had held her captive, considering. Then, she jumped up, trying to reach the nearest branch. It fell short of her fingers.
She looked around frantically, trying to find a shorter, more reachable branch. She found one a few yards away and leapt to it, climbing with strength born of desperation into the upper canopy. She waited, chest heaving with exertion. She wished she had some sort of missle weapon, but she didn't have anything except Diamondsong, Trustworthy, and smaller knives, one tucked in each boot. The small knives were the right weight for throwing, if there was a small enough party coming her way. If not...she was in trouble. She hoped it was a small party.
It was a fair-sized party, a dozen Men; not big enough for imminent death on her part, but not small enough to risk knife throwing. She watched, trying to calm the cursedly loud breathing. They didn't seem to hear it, but she convinced that, any second now, they would look up, see her, and that would be the end. The one who seemed to be in charge threw down the broken rope ends in disgust.
"Cut right through it, he did. Like an hot knife running through butter!"
"Could he have gone far?" asked one Man, towards the back. The Man in charge seemed to be thinking hard about that. In her opinion, it looked painful.
"Well...seems as though he'd have fallen a fair way, landing on his hands and feet, like Elves are supposed to do. That might slow him up a bit. He'd have made it back to the city, if he had a lick of sense. They know we're moving in. Let's run back and sound the alarm! War's coming, tell the warlord!" The same Man in the back spoke up again.
"I don't want to fight Elves! Dirty good fighters they are, and they might outnumber us!" He received a wallop upside the head for his opinions.
"Knucklehead! So what? They don't know what we're about, they're unprepared!"
"But the one we caught..." Another wallop.
"That's why we've got to get back to camp, simpleton! So we take them by surprise!" She smiled slightly.
"I say, an officer striking an enlisted soldier? With name calling to boot? Not very military like, if you want my opinion." They immediately got their weapons out and searched around wildly, trying to find her.
"None asked for your opinion, now show yourself!" She chuckled slightly.
"What about the one that got away? The longer you stand here looking for me, why, the closer he gets to home..." The officer looked panicky and undecided. Then, he kicked two of the Men.
"You, and you, get back to camp and warn the others! We'll deal with this one." She took a risk and threw the small weighted knives, pinning both in the necks of the unfortunate scouts.
"Come now, only two? Do you really think you know what you're up against?"
"You spawn of evil!" shrieked the officer, "Come out and fight like a Man!"
"Ah, you see, therein lies the problem. I am not a Man, in any sense of the word. So, I'll fight on my own terms, if that's not a problem." The officer milled through the ten Men he had left and picked the five smallest. That left her with six. Not precisely the number she had hoped for, but well enough.
"All of you, run for camp, and quickly if you want to see another dawn!" They sped off like the Nazgul were on their tails.
"If you insist playing like this, who am I to stand in the way? I do so love seeing children at their games; so charming and innocent."
"Soon as I know where you are, missy, it's death for you!" So, they had finally paid attention to her voice pitch.
"Thank you, but I believe I'll have to take you up on that one later. Busy agenda, you know." She plucked a single solitary leaf and let it drift downward, knowing it would take them years, if left to their own devices. The soldiers watched it fall to their feet, then leapt away, as if it were some sort of poison.
"It came from over there," said the officer, pointing about two yards to the left of her. She inwardly sighed. Men. They huddled together and moved forward slowly, keeping their eyes to the canopy. She quickly checked out how high she was. The fall wouldn't kill her, not if she had them to cushion it.
"By the Valar! You people couldn't find water after a rainstorm!" They stopped dead and looked around. She braced herself, knowing she couldn't hold it off too long if she had any chance of taking them by surprise. But it was a really long way down... "This is for...for...for Mirkwood!" she yelled, closed her eyes, and threw herself down.
She took out three in one go by landing on them. She unsheathed Trustworthy and Diamondsong with a flourish, showing off all her skill. They backed off for a moment, taken aback, then they smiled. Only a girl. She narrowed her eyes. She'd prove to them all what girls could and could not do. ~Preach it to them, sistah. And remember, actions speak louder than words.~ She didn't understand the first part, but the second was all too clear. She watched, knives at ready, while they made a semi-circle around her. If worst came to worse, she could turn tail and run, even though that option didn't appeal to her warrior's nature. The officer smiled evilly.
"Got you now, girl. Scouts are on their way, you're dying here...go to the grave knowing Mirkwood will soon be under the rule of the Riders! Get her, you two!" She had to smile. Typical Man: put his foot in his mouth and sent others to make sure he held out. She eyed the weapons the two unsure Men held at ready. Blessedly, the archers had been sent out with the scouts. One held a spear, which was more of a close-range weapon than a throwing kind, and the other held a sword, with a bag of darts in his belt pouch.
"That's what you think. You'll have to get past me first."
"With pleasure," said the spear-holder, rushing her. She knocked the spear head aside with Trustworthy and chopped the weapon in half with Diamondsong. She stamped on his hand before he could pick it up again and knocked the pommel of Diamondsong against his temple with punishing force. Sword-holder backed off.
"You...you killed him!" She checked his pulse, never taking her eyes off her attacker. Then she shook her head.
"No, but I'll kill you if you ask nicely."
"You're just bluffing," sneered the officer. She turned to him.
"Care to put your money where your mouth is, or will you have witless here foot the bill?" The soldier sneered at her, but pushed Sword-holder in front of him. She smiled mockingly. "I thought so. Step right up." The sword-holder rushed her with a yell, but not a very confident one. She deflected his direct thrust and parried with all her skill, which wasn't much. She knew how to use her knives ably, but fencing, especially against a swordsman with only her knives, was not part of her training.
To her dismay, she was kept on defense almost all the time. She trusted to her mobility skills to keep her alive; the second she couldn't move was the last second of her life. She saw an opening, and, for once, didn't hesitate to follow it. She ducked under the sword, blade just barely missing her ear, and slashed for his hand. He cursed, then switched hands. -Just my luck,- she thought. -The one good swordsman in the entire army, most likely--and he can use both hands! -
But now, at least she had some sort of advantage over him. He carried his wounded hand limply at his side, adding a bit of extra dead weight. Not that it was much of an advantage; he was just as good with his left hand as he was with his right. The fight began in earnest yet once more, the officer merely looking on. She was grateful for this; she needed to focus all of her attention on the enemy in front of her.
Suddenly, moving impossibly fast, his sword slithered under her guard and slashed downward. She screamed as a streak of white-hot pain tore down her stomach. She managed to turn away his blade one more time before she was down. She collapsed on her back, scrunching her eyes shut against the firebrand that had pushed itself against her. Slowly, she opened them to inspect the wound. Not fatally deep, but not superficially shallow, either. She would live, unless the Man killed her right now.
That seemed to be his intent; when she stuggled to sit up, he pushed her back down again with the toe of his boot. Then the officer shoved him out of the way and took his sword, pressing the edge against her throat. Raw fear coursed its way through her veins. There was dead silence in the forest except for her spasmodic breathing, her chest heaving up and down, up and down. The minutes stretched into eternity.
"I know you," said the swordman suddenly. "You're the little girl that was 'captured' by that weird chap with the pale hair, the one who killed Haltred. Bet you didn't know I was watching you, eh?"
"Hiding in the shadows, were you?" she asked, not able to restrain herself. "I never liked snakes to begin with." Hate spasmed across his face, but the officer held up a hand.
"Listen!" he said, suddenly. They all listened. There it was; the sound of an army moving through a forest. The officer turned his eyes on her, smiling maliciously. "Any other time, I'd invite you back to camp...but it looks as though I'll have my pick of Elven girls by tonight. No hard feelings, eh?"
"None at all," she replied, and, curling up into a fetal position, kicked out at him just as he raised the sword for a killing blow. Not expecting an attack, he was completely taken by surprise. The sword flew from his hand and he fell hard on his back, wind knocked out. Before the swordman could do anything, she flung Trustworthy somewhat awkwardly; instead of killing the Man, it buried itself in his leg. She pulled it out, wincing, then retreived her proper throwing knives. The army was much closer now; she hobbled as quickly as she could, tearing the sleeves of her shirt to make a rough bandage as she went. It wasn't bleeding, but it was painful, terribly so. She made it back to Mirkwood and collapsed into the arms of a startled-looking Elf, she didn't care enough to immediately identify who.
"Dear...Rosellyn...whatever happened?" It was Antiphony.
"Anti...Rider army...coming here now! Attack! Tell Awaren! Get everyone... ready..." She fainted dead away from pain, exhaustion, and blood loss.
A/N: Well, that can't be a good sign...