THANKS TO:
Elenillor: My beta and fellow elf-monger that puts up with my silliness and banters with me over the strangest things. You rock Gal!
Naomie: I'm sorry it took so long to get this chapter out but a horrible Orc by the name of "Real Life" caught me and has tortured me for about a week. Thankfully, I was saved by some cute elves. EG Let me know what you think about this chapter! Hope you enjoy!
Just Me: Thanks for you kind words and encouragement. It really means a lot to have someone to take the time to post their thoughts. I've had to delete a few flames that were annoying, but luckily, not one of them has returned to send more flames my way. :D I hope you enjoy this chapter and thanks again for your review!
Basil Clever: gotta love elf-torture eh? Not to worry, I wont do anything too horrible to the elves… though sometimes I wonder how they ever survived. Hope you enjoy this chapter as well!
Lady of Light- blushes Thank you! I tried to give the characters some depth and make them more believable. I've tried hard to steer away from MS- style fics and I hope to make the story multi-layered and interesting for the readers. I hope you like this one as well!
**And thanks to all readers, whether you leave a message or not, I hope you continue to read and enjoy my stories.
***And lastly, I'm SOOOOO sorry about the prolonged update. It has taken me forever to get things settled here after spring break and now college has started back up again. I will try to return to my once a week postings… but more reviews tend to make the postings come sooner. hint hint ;)
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Chapter Six: Insight of the Dark
The elves fought continuously, praying to the Valar that if they should fall, they could at least take some of the foul beasts with them and perhaps save a comrade from certain torture or doom.
The rumbling of the orcs lessened as they were reduced in numbers, some still looking over at the hillside to the oncoming sounds of attackers. On the hillside a figure emerged silhouetted against the darkening sky and was quickly followed by at least a dozen more, all yelling a battle cry that made the elves sigh in relief. It was an ancient Elven battle cry. Their would-be assailants were Elven, coming to the aid of their kin.
Arrows whistled through the air, landing perfectly on target and downing orcs faster than the eye could see. Bows drew taunt, some holding a cargo of two or more arrows, aiming at the foul beasts waging war on the fair beings.
Haldir lunged forward, slicing his way through several orcs that blocked his path. They dropped dead to the ground, causing no more threats. Cíaraen gingerly swung his blade, using his opposite hand as he parried attacks, protecting the injured arm that began to stain crimson. Múrendil stepped between a large orc and Cíaraen and deflected the blow aimed at the injured elf. With a powerful thrust, the orc dropped, disemboweled where he stood.
The orcs recovered from their initial shock of seeing more elves rushing over the hillside. With an almighty roar they drove towards the arriving elves. When their backs were turned, Haldir and company charged, severing spines and stabbing the orcs in the back and dropping them before they converged on the newcomers.
A flash of many blades shimmered across the landscape, acting as lightning bugs dotting the night with their presence. Haldir charged through the midst of the orcs, swinging his blade wide and injuring unsuspecting victims. They dropped, unable to advance further as they cried out in pain.
Within a few minutes, the ground was heaped with dead orcs, their stench rising up and burning the noses of the elves. Those that weren't dead were soon so, by the wandering elves, walking slowly through the carnage and ending the misery of the foul beasts.
Haldir scanned the area, searching for the one that had lead the charge into the fight. He spotted the individual easily, being surrounded by several of his cloaked companions and sweeping through the terrain looking for orc survivors. Haldir strode up to him and opened his mouth to say his thanks, then gasped as he recognized the golden crown of hair.
"Legolas?" Haldir asked in awe.
Legolas smiled and placed his hand over his heart, "Mae Govannen Haldir."
Haldir laughed and clapped Legolas on his shoulder, embracing the young elf fondly, "What are you doing out here?"
"Chasing orcs," Legolas smiled sheepishly and returned Haldir's greeting.
"What are you doing out here chasing orcs? You are the Prince of Mirkwood, surely you aren't expected to be doing the duty of the sentries?" Haldir remarked with a grin. He had been friends with the young prince for centuries, having taken to the Prince when he was just an elfling, and took his first steps to toddle to the March Warden, where he collapsed into the older elf's arms and squealed in delight at his accomplishment. Haldir had praised the young elfling all during his stay, and when he left, could hear Legolas's wails for many miles.
Legolas's face sobered at once, pulling him from his own memories, "Orcs have attacked our borders. They took one of our messengers captive. He did not make it." Legolas lowered his eyes and mumbled an Elvish prayer.
Haldir copied the prayer and gesture, and looked into the prince's eyes, "The orcs have attacked our borders as well. They have taken two of our kin. We are on a mission to bring them home."
Legolas turned to the elf at his side, who was shorter and had a darker hue of hair, "Eremae, continue the search for survivors."
The smaller elf nodded and spun on his heel, disappearing among the other elves that were conducting the search. Rúmil and Orophin were walking near a clump of trees, their weapons drawn and their heads turning as they searched in the dark.
Legolas gestured for Haldir to accompany him. He walked in silence until a good distance was put between them and the others, "Haldir, my heart is joyous at our meeting but your news greatly troubles me."
Haldir turned and watched through the gloom as the other elves continued their search. After a moment he said lowly, "I am troubled as well, my friend. When we first encountered the orcs, they fought well, and allowed some of their kind to escape, taking Dassenil with them."
Legolas looked out across the landscape and could just make out an elf knelt on the ground, helping another rise to a sitting position. He frowned, "Dassenil looks bad. Is he alright?"
Haldir shrugged, "He is too stubborn to admit he is injured."
"Like another elf I know of," Legolas smirked.
Haldir ignored the prince and continued, "Orophin has tended to his wounds, but he tires quickly. When we set up camp for tonight, it was because Dassenil passed out."
"Dassenil passed out?" Legolas repeated, sounding awed. "Elves do not pass out."
Haldir shook his head, "He fell to the ground unconscious. He has not allowed himself time to heal. If he continues, he will do further damage to himself."
"Sounds a bit stubborn," Legolas said with a grin spreading across his face.
Haldir grinned back and scoffed, "Perhaps he has been around me for too long. Is that what you are hinting at?"
Legolas held up his hands defensively, "I did not make any such assumption."
"You were thinking it," Haldir smarted, noting that the elves had converged on Dassenil and were helping him to his feet.
It took several minutes for the elves to gain the audience of Haldir and Legolas, who were watching Haldir's brothers in the distance skirting around trees and waggling threatening fingers at each other. Orawain and Cíaraen were walking a circuit around the orc bodies, Cíaraen cradling his arm where a red stain was becoming more visible, though he concealed his wound with his cloak.
Two elves that were unfamiliar to Haldir were holding Dassenil up between them. His face was pale and he was panting for breath. Haldir nodded to the two and opened his mouth to speak when Orophin called out, "I do not think there are any more orcs."
Rúmil was walking beside Orophin, his hand over his ear, glaring at his brother with annoyance.
Haldir motioned for all elves and said loudly, "Regroup!"
The shadowy forms of over a dozen elves emerged through the gloom. Haldir recognized a few of them, though by only their appearance and not their names. He noticed that several of his command were covered in splattered blood, and sporting minor injuries.
Dassenil whimpered slightly, his body going slack in the arms of the two holding him as unconsciousness claimed him once again. Orophin rushed to him at once and began checking his vitals. He called for Rúmil to fetch his pack and looked to Haldir, "Dassenil has lost a lot of blood. It will take a lot of time for him to recover well enough to travel further."
Haldir waited until Rúmil returned, followed closely by the rest of his company who had gathered up their discarded bags during the fight. Múrendil frowned at his, seeing the discoloration of orc blood and glaring at the crushed supplies that filled his travel pack. He threw it down, disgusted, and Rúmil smiled, offering to share his supplies. Orophin paid no attention to anything as he set about applying more salve to the wounds on Dassenil that had reopened and began to bleed again. He mumbled things under his breath as he worked and quickly finished his task, tying off the last of the bandages and feeling Dassenil's neck for a pulse.
"Haldir, we should rest," Orophin said, finally satisfied with Dassenil's condition and addressing his brother.
Haldir looked to Legolas, who pulled a face and spoke up, "Orophin, do you think we would be able to rest near the stench of these creatures?"
Orophin thought for a moment, the smell stinging his nose now that the orcs started to decompose. He frowned, "I guess not."
"Let us travel from here," Legolas said, walking to Orophin's side and throwing an arm around his friend's sibling. "There is a small pond about an hour from here. We will go there, get fresh water, clean our wounds and get some much needed rest."
Orophin suppressed a yawn and nodded, "The plan sounds agreeable."
Haldir opened his mouth to argue the point that he would have received a verbal tirade if he had suggested such a thing. He decided it wasn't worth starting another round of arguing, and shook his head in agreement, "Lead the way, Prince."
Legolas grinned and walked, though somewhat lamely, back the direction he and his group had come. The elves ambled on in silence for an hour, until they found a small pond that was ringed with weeping willows.
Legolas called two of his warriors to gather firewood and settled down with the others, pulling out what meager rations they had. Legolas emptied his pack, and frowned at the couple pieces of fruit and small leaf-wrapped bit of dried meat.
"It is not much," Legolas said, offering what he had to the others.
Haldir smiled warmly at Legolas's generosity and opened his pack to reveal several large leaves wrapped around something golden-white. With a grin he added, "Perhaps we can put together a meal out here?"
Legolas laughed jovially and helped Haldir ration out the food. Like an elfling, Legolas giddily ate his lembas, having fallen in love with the Lothlorien bread when he was a babe traveling with his father. Haldir smiled warmly to himself, remembering the time that the prince of Mirkwood had ate too much of the waybread, then puked it up all over the March Warden, showering him with lembas spittle.
The two warriors returned a short time later, their arms laden down with firewood and sticks. They piled them up, and within the flash of an eye had a fire roaring into the night. Rúmil and Orophin were sitting by Dassenil, Orophin watching over the fallen elf with a tired posture.
Haldir rose and went over to his brothers, lowering himself beside Orophin and gently placing a hand on his shoulder. He could feel Orophin suddenly become rigid and said softly, "You need rest as well, brother. Take heart, I will watch over him until he awakens."
Orophin turned to look at Haldir and opened his mouth to retort bitterly, but the calmness and compassion that was shining in his brother's eyes quickly changed his mind. He nodded and gripped Haldir's hand on his shoulder, squeezing it, "Dassenil has lost a lot of blood, Haldir. I fear for him."
"I know," said Haldir sympathetically, offering a bit of the dried meat that Legolas had brought. "Eat and get some rest. We will need it in the morrow."
"We are setting out for home?" Orophin asked. He knew that their kin were relying on them for rescue, he could not fathom the orcs keeping an elf alive for very long. The foul beasts never took pity, and often mutilated bodies beyond recognition.
Haldir lowered his gaze, his voice hushed so Rúmil and Orophin had to strain to hear him, " We will resume our mission and find our kin." Orophin made a noise of disgust, but Haldir ploughed on, ignoring the dirty looks, "Legolas said that they have had messengers to be taken from their lands. They have lost one to the orcs, but there are some who could still yet be alive."
Orophin frowned, the information sinking in, "Legolas has lost kin as well?"
Haldir nodded, offering Rúmil some of the dried meat, "I have told the prince of what the orcs said and he agrees with me. Our kin are still alive, and if we do not find them, they will not be for long."
"There is no proof that they still live," Orophin said testily. "I wish to make the ones responsible for this pay, but not if it will put others in danger. It is folly."
Haldir shook his head, "I believe our kin still lives. We will continue our quest until we have found them, and punished those responsible."
Orophin yawned through his best effort to prevent it and earned a look from his two siblings, "I am just weary."
"We could figure that out for ourselves," Rúmil grinned. "Sleep brother, for tomorrow we will set out anew to search for our kin."
Orophin looked to Dassenil who was nestled among cloaks of Lothlorien and Mirkwood origin, sleeping peacefully with his eyes half lidded. Orophin took a deep breath and consented, "I think a couple hours will be welcomed. Wake me if anything is wrong."
"Yes, brother," Haldir softly said, pulling his cloak off and pulling it over Orophin as he lay beside Dassenil. "Sleep well, little brother."
"Little," Orophin snorted as he drifted off. "I am bigger than you by far, Haldir."
Haldir smiled as Orophin's eyes glazed over in sleep, his soft snores starting almost instantly. Haldir smirked and looked to Rúmil, who looked fondly to his brother and rose up, "I am going to have another bath."
Haldir wrinkled his nose at Rúmil and snapped, "Looks as if you are the one that smells like a human."
Rúmil gave Haldir a rude gesture and went to the little pond, stripping off the orc blood soaked clothes and tossing them aside. He washed off the foul smelling blood, and was soon mirrored by the others, each cringing from the smell. When they were all cleaned and smelling fresh as the woods, they rinsed out their clothes and laid them out to dry in the warm breeze that picked up.
Haldir settled himself next to Legolas, who was watching his Mirkwood company gingerly lie down and settle in for a good rest. Legolas looked at Haldir, his eyes distant and dimmed with barely concealed pain.
"What troubles you, Legolas?" Haldir asked gently.
"My guards are hiding it, but they are injured," Legolas said softly, his eyes casting out to the small lumps visible by firelight. "We have traveled for over a week, and have had many battles. Though they refuse to show it, they are injured. I feared our numbers would diminish after the last battle. My spirits are raised to see that all of us have made it through."
Haldir had listened intently, his eyes scanning the bodies that laid close to the fire, some of them noticeably wincing and muffling their cries of pain as they tried to find a more comfortable position. He sighed, "If I had known that your warriors were injured, I would not have allowed them to fight."
"You would have no choice over the matter, my friend," Legolas grinned slyly. "My guards follow my orders. You could have shouted loud enough for even the Valar to hear you, but they would not listen to you."
Haldir snorted at his friend, "I can be pretty persuasive when I want to be."
Legolas shook his head and leaned back against a small tree, "That you are, old friend."
"I am not old," Haldir huffed, much to Legolas's amusement. "Stop laughing, you bratty elf."
Legolas gasped and clutched his chest at the jibe, "Haldir! That hurts! I have never been a brat!"
"Oh please," Haldir waved off Legolas's sputtering indignation.
Legolas folded his arms over his chest and stuck out his lower lip, staring straight ahead and ignoring Haldir.
Haldir glanced over and put his arm around Legolas, drawing the youngster close, "You may be a brat, but are still my friend."
"And a prince," Legolas added, still pouting.
"Yes, a prince. A Prince Pouter that has always gotten his way, even overruling those that are older and wiser than he," Haldir grinned.
Legolas nudged Haldir sharply in the chest, eliciting a peal of laughter from the March Warden, "You are just jealous that I have always been the wisest."
Haldir snorted in a very un-elflike way. He rolled his eyes and shoved Legolas, "The day when you will be considered wise is the day I journey to Valinor."
"Then I am most unwise, for I do not wish to lose such a friend," Legolas said the mirth dropping from his voice.
Haldir smiled, his gaze lingering out along the camp. The sleeping forms of elves dotted the area, their bodies cast in fiery light from the bonfire burning brightly in the center of the encampment. A warm breeze gently wrapped itself through the camp, soothing and revitalizing those that slept peacefully. Haldir thought back to the battle, and without a second thought, rose from his place by Legolas and walked silently between the slumbering forms and found Cíaraen.
Cíaraen was wide-awake and glanced at the elf towering over him with a sheepish look.
Haldir knelt by Cíaraen, who rose to a sitting position, and motioned for him to show his arm, "I know you were hurt. Let me see how badly."
Cíaraen tentatively pulled his arm out of his sleeve and exposed the large cut that ran the length of his forearm. A long piece of material had been bound to the wound to prevent it from bleeding, but from where it went untreated, the bandage was soaked through. Haldir unwrapped the bandage and prodded the injury lightly, his brow drawn as he registered how hot Cíaraen's skin was, and how inflamed the welt looked.
Cíaraen lowered his head, "I did not wish to be a bother. There were others that needed the care more than I."
Haldir shook his head, "The orc blades are sometimes tipped with poison. You should have alerted us of the pain."
Haldir rose and crept over to Orophin and pulled out a couple small leaves of an herb and the salve he used on Dassenil. Returning to Cíaraen's side, he wiped dry the blood and applied the salve, then placed the two leaves over the deepest part of the cut and rebound the wound.
"Do not let this happen again," Haldir scolded gently.
Cíaraen ducked his head and nodded, "Yes, Commander. I am sorry for my stubbornness."
Haldir placed his hand on Cíaraen's shoulder and smiled, "Get some rest."
Cíaraen lay back down, easily drifting into Elven slumber now that his throbbing arm had been tended. Haldir rejoined Legolas across the camp and sat down with a groan, leaning against the small tree beside his friend.
Legolas allowed a couple minutes to pass before he spoke, his voice soft, "Is his injury severe?"
Haldir closed his eyes and leaned his head against the trunk of the tree, "I cleaned the wound as best I could and put the antidote on the skin that was inflamed."
Legolas looked out over the camp, "There is great evil at work here. I sense it, through the trees, upon the wind. The very air I breathe tells me there is something dangerous set against us."
Haldir inhaled long and slowly, "Rúmil has had visions of this evil, though he knows naught of their origin. I must admit," Haldir lowered his head and turned to the prince beside him, "I have felt a strange unrest myself. The words of the orcs play in my mind and send fear into my heart. I thanked the Valar that we were able to rescue Dassenil from torture and death at the hands of the foul beasts, but I am full of dread at the thought that our kin could be suffering those monstrous torments."
"When we first encountered the orcs, we found Tyndriul broken," Legolas started, sitting more upright as he became more serious in his tone, "His body was torn viciously and his mind had become confused. He died in my arms, crying and begging me to not hurt him further and allow him a peaceful death."
"I am sorry," Haldir whispered.
Legolas's face became stony, "He was but an elfling, barely come of age. I was proud Father had chosen him to be a messenger to Imladris. As he was returning, barely away from out borders, the orcs attacked. Many of the Mirkwood guards tried to reach Tyndriul, but the orcs took him away into the night."
"Orcs attacked our borders as well and took with them two of my wardens," Haldir said, his eyes becoming distant at the thought of his close friends and trained guards being tortured at the hands of the orcs or their elusive master.
Legolas nodded, "I gathered many guards to follow the orcs to retrieve Tyndruil. We caught them at dawn on the fourth day." Legolas looked at Haldir, his eyes hardening as he spoke slowly, "There were Men with them. I believed them to be bartering for Tyndruil's life, but now I am not so sure."
"Why?" Haldir asked, drawn into the mystery.
"They spoke of a master," Legolas said, emphasizing the word. "I believed it to be a warning about not dealing with the Firstborn, but now I believe they were part of the orc party."
Haldir sat in stunned silence, his mouth slightly agape. Men? In league with orcs? The whole idea seemed ludicrous!
Legolas nodded his head once and said, "Orcs will attack anyone, especially a group lesser than they. The Men walked freely into the camp, spoke with several of the orcs, and were not attacked or even threatened. With what you have told me, Haldir, I believe that the Men may have been in this treacherous act. That they are the ones that have planned this and that one of their kind is the master the orcs serve."
Haldir thought for a moment, running over the information. What Legolas said was a possibility, and with all the words and threats the orcs had spoken, it seemed that the assumption was an accurate one.
Closing his eyes and exhaling long and low, Haldir sighed, "It looks like you are right, young Prince. If the orcs are indeed in league with the humans, then there could nothing good to come of this. The orcs only serve powerful leaders, and ones that are as ruthless as they. Do you know of any mortal that could be behind this union?"
Legolas creased his brow in thought, then shook his head, "There are none whom the orcs would take orders from that I know of. What if it is not a mortal that has plotted against us?"
Haldir quirked a brow and smiled, "Legolas, I believe you have been around Rúmil too long. You are becoming just as suspicious as he."
Legolas laughed at the joke, then focused on Haldir, "What shall we do?"
Haldir stretched, feeling the years settle in his bones, "We will sleep on the matter. In the morrow, we will set out on our journey anew."
Legolas nodded and settled himself down on the ground, clasping his hands over his chest and allowing himself to drift into Elven dreams. Haldir lay awake, staring up at the inky black sky and trying to make sense of the information he had heard. As the hours slowly crept by, Haldir felt his tiredness overcome him, and as sleep finally started to take its firm hold over him, he heard Orophin give a rather loud snore in his sleep. A smile graced the Warden's face as he finally succumbed to the lull of reverie.
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Cheers!
PJ