Sam sighed heavily and shifted the pack on his shoulders, forcing his weary body over yet another rise in the rocky terrain. This was the third day since Strider's departure. The day before, as per the Ranger's instructions, Sam, Frodo, Gimli and Boromir had turned northward from their previous trail and begun their trek through the Misty Mountains. Gimli had estimated the distance to be perhaps a hundred and fifty miles to Lothlórien, and as of yet, they had covered only forty of those miles. Their pace was excruciatingly slow. Boromir was not even strong enough to walk on his own, though he tried to hide it. Sam watched him, supported by Gimli, as they trudged ahead of him. The Gondorean's face was deathly pale from blood loss, and he stumbled often, his heavily bandaged, broken arm motionless in a makeshift sling. Already the dressings on his wounds were sporting scarlet dots—they would have to stop to change them soon.
Sam sighed again and plodded on. He thought about Merry and Pippin and Legolas, whether they were all right, whether Aragorn had found them yet, whether they had escaped Orthanc…He wondered if he would ever see them again.
ειδαсαг
"Elendil!"
Merry turned at the sound of Aragorn's battle cry, but he had only a split second to view the Ranger before the Man crashed into the rush of Orcs. Andúril flashed redly as it cleaved the life from two of the Uruks. Both the Halflings stood open-mouthed, frozen in shock and joy at the sight of their rescuer.
"Run, you fools!" Strider shouted, parrying three thrusts and neatly skewering another enemy.
His shout galvanized the two hobbits into action. Each grabbed hold of one of Legolas' shoulders, and with their help, the Elf half-walked and was half-dragged down the corridor. Pippin tried not to flinch or pull away from the sticky blood coating the archer's body. Legolas coughed convulsively every few steps, each cough resulting in a steady trickle of blood down the side of his mouth. They made progress, but it was agonizingly slow—too slow.
"Hurry!" Aragorn bellowed over his shoulder. A clash of blades followed, and he was forced to drop back a step.
A tiny spark ignited in Legolas' barely conscious mind. Everything seemed blurry and indistinct. He dimly felt Merry and Pippin tugging him forward with their little hands, distantly heard Aragorn's urgent shouts, smelled the coppery scent of spilled Orkish blood. Thoughts came to him slowly, crystal-clear. We will not make it. He and the Hobbits were almost to the wall, but that was no help. The corridor was a dead end. They were lost.
Pippin felt despair swoop over him and settle on his shoulders in a stifling funereal shroud. There was nowhere to go. "Strider, we're trapped!" he shouted, tossing a quick glance over his shoulder, hoping that the Man could somehow miraculously save them all.
The Ranger responded by lunging forward, driving the Uruks back several steps, and then whirled around and dashed to the wall. Placing one bloody hand on the stone, he took a deep breath and seemed to fall within himself for a split second. Then he opened his eyes and spun back to the battle, for in that split second the Orcs had come ever closer. They were no more than a few hobbit-lengths away now.
"Go!" Aragorn bellowed over his shoulder as he fought to drive them back.
Merry and Pippin shared a look of consternation. This was hardly the time for the Man to be losing his mind.
The Ranger risked a glance and saw that his companions hadn't moved. "Go! The wall is no longer solid; you can go straight through it! Hurry!"
Pippin put a tentative hand on the wall, meaning to ascertain if the Man's words were true. "No time!" Merry shouted and bodily shoved his companion through the stone. In the back of his mind a voice noted, Hm. It worked. How odd. Strider's sane after all. But before he could turn and do the same to Legolas, a hand planted itself between his shoulders and propelled him away after Pippin.
The hand had belonged to Legolas, who now slumped against the still-solid portion of the wall. He knew what he had to do; he knew Aragorn far too well.
The Ranger was steadily losing ground, one Man against steadily growing numbers of Uruks. He was almost to the wall now. A hurried glance showed him that the Hobbits were gone, but Legolas remained. "Laiqulassë! Kelautllë n'ë en sinomë, síi! Saes!"
Legolas did not bother to reply; he could not make himself loud enough to be heard, anyway. He could read the Man's every thought. Aragorn was going to sacrifice himself. There was no way that the Elf would allow that to happen. Aragorn was one of his best friends, and Legolas was willing to—and probably would, under the current circumstances—die before he let any such sacrifice take place.
With his last vestiges of strength, the archer grasped his friend by the shoulders, and before the Man could react, forced him through the wall. It sealed itself with his passing. "No!" The ghost of Aragorn's voice floated back, but he was gone.
As was Legolas. He sank down to the floor, into empty nothing, and was unconscious even before the Orcs closed in to beat him.
ειδαсαг
"No. No!" Aragorn bellowed, pounding his hand against the unyielding stones of the wall. "Laiqulassë! Amadallë! Why? Why? We were so close! You fool! Legolas! Legolas!" He went on with his tirade, finishing with a howl like a demented wolf.
When the Ranger finally turned to the Hobbits, they could see that he was well and truly drained. There were dark circles under his eyes, his skin was pale under the blood and grime, his eyes red-rimmed, his face gaunt, his hands twitching. His arms shook under the continued strain of merely holding his sword off the ground. The Man was exhausted. Without another word he slumped to the ground, putting his back to the stone wall and his head in his hands. No one said anything for a time.
"What do we do now?" Merry asked tentatively, breaking the silence.
"Do?" Aragorn replied incredulously, raising his head to look at the Hobbit. "Do? We can do nothing now."
Merry began to protest. "But we can't—"
"Tomorrow morning, you will journey to Rivendell. You will meet the others there. Tell them what happened and continue with the quest."
Even Pippin disagreed. How could they possibly leave Legolas behind? "But Strider, Legolas—we couldn't—we must—"
"We have to help him," Merry finished emphatically.
"There is nothing we can do."
"But we have to get him out! We can't just leave him there!"
"Can't you do that—er—trick with the wall again?" Pippin asked. "The Orcs will have gone by now. We could sneak inside and steal him away!"
A cold, bitter laugh sounded from the Ranger's lips. It seemed so wrong, coming from one who had been so noble, so proud and wise, as close to an Elf as any Man could be. "Look at me, Pippin," he said, not without scorn. "I do not think I could even stand, let alone walk. I cannot open the wall again. There is no way we could possibly do as you say. I am exhausted. I have run for days without stopping to eat, drink or rest; you two are starved and beaten. We are hardly a rescue party!"
"But we could try…" Merry insisted forlornly before trailing off into silence.
"Yes, we could try. But what would we accomplish? Prisoners for yourselves again? Capture for me? Death and torture at Saruman's hands? No, my little Halfling friend, I think not. We could never succeed."
"But…"
"But naught, Master Meriadoc. There is nothing we can do."
Both Hobbits sat and wept silently, as the sun and clouds wheeled overhead and night crept over them all.
ειδαсαг
well. wow. that was a loooong break. But I went to England and stuff, and then to Scotland, and then to Montana—no, wait, Montana came first—but anyways, the point is I was gone for a while. And after all that, I came straight in to school. My Spanish teacher—ahhhhhh! As we all know, I'm a fan of torture, but she's just cruel. and oh my god her smile! Smile, my ass! When she does that…thing…I swear to god, the crack in her face is like a crack in the walls of hell, with demons and devils and succubi just pouring forth. Its horrible, I don't know how I survive. But thank god for thanksgiving break! Now I've finally got time to write like I should. It's been great. So heres my newest chappie, sorry it took so long, but you know how it goes, eh?
And theres only one translation this time around: "Legolas! Get yourself out of here, now! Please!" boring, I know, but hey, it's functional.
Finally! My favorite part—reviews! (sorry, everyone, but I'm not sure where I left off at, and it's been a while, so if I skip you, I'm real sorry! Just feel free to chew me out next time you write me one.)
LegolasLover2003—yeah, I know the whole portal thing was weird, but I couldn't think of what else to do, and I really didn't want Aragorn having to sneak all over orthanc trying to find a door or something. Really cuts down on the suspense, you know?
Witchmaster—I know exactly what you mean. I've been so ridiculously angst-deprived for WEEKS now. I was going through torture withdrawal, it was horrible. But I must say, I did enjoy writing this chapter. Mental angst more than physical, this time around. But still, pain is pain!
Lanfear—you want someone ripped up for you? Hmmm…so far, that would be just the uruks. Unless you count aragorn's pushing himself 'for days without stopping for food, drink, or rest' blah blah blah. But tell you what—next chapter, whoever gets most beat on will be tormented just for you!
Ariadne—I hate school, you know. Really. I hate it. If I could pick one thing in this world to destroy forever with no memory of it and no possibility of it being rebuilt in the future, it would be school. For sure. And just think, then I could update…and update…and update…sigh
Khessy—it wasn't pointless at all, of course not! Notice, I used the word in this chapter—and thanks, by the by, for giving it to me; I couldn't find the damn thing anywhere else!
Star-Stallion—yep, I really think it's the angst that adds that nice finishing touch. Without the torture…gasp! Perish the thought.
Ymmas Sirron—hehe weak grin well, so much for that, I guess… flees in guilt
Rose—ah, the wise words of the sage…sound advice, my dear!
None, yet—you know, we really need to work on the name thing here. But anyways, we have another lady v-er, ladies and gents! Please welcome…um…er…yeah. Like I said, we need to get you a name.
Mikazuki Senshi—hehe, very succinct review. I like your style!
Layla—wow, déjà vu. But I updated, didn't I, so joy to the world, eh?
Legolas' Cousin—too bad, but the ass-kicking has to wait til next chapter. I decided to draw it out a little bit more. Hehe, aren't I cruel!
Gia—all right, all right, all right already, I updated, I updated, I updated!
Hitokiri youkai—don't you hate computer restriction? Drives me crazy. Lucky for me I have a laptop that I can hide when I need to so my parents cant take it away!
