Mudannen lû ann na sen narn
(I have toiled long on this tale)
Annon len sen narn na lenn
(I present to you a tale of a journey.)
Legolas: We all ready knew that.
Elladan: Her accent is dire.
Oh shut up, so in order to avoid being insulted by anymore members of the story, I don't own squat, so there.
Snickers in the back ground.
Sigh...
Answering to the Threat
Chapter Seven: Hiding in Various Forests
"Drink up brother."
The sunlight streamed through the trees, leaving patches of darkness on the soft forest floor, such was the world, small patches of light and dark, some of the edges distinct, clear, others bordered fuzzily, overlaying what should be well.
Elladan had finished wrapping his brother's wound, proffering a cup of water. He knelt, in front of Elrohir watching his pale drawn face. So much immortal blood had been shed to protect the innocent. Such is the price of peace, for it can not be defined without war, poverty, and death. Elrohir sat hunched low against a larger tree, his shoulders barely touching it. His chin rested on his chest when he thought his brother was not looking, but Elladan knew. They needed out of the wet clothes, Elrohir especially, shock was still an occurrence in elves, especially after loosing a sufficient amount of blood. The more injured member of the two had certainly met that.
The cold shade weighed heavily on the hearts of the two, friends and valued allies had been lost in this chase already. The two horses, messengers' racers were dead, or injured so bad they could not respond. Right now, the brothers were in way so that they could not chance looking for them.
Orcs did not love to crossing rivers, but with the whip of a master dictating their actions, not the current leader of the tribe, they were harder guess. Elladan knew they were camped too close to where the orcs resided, but they had no choice, the elf could only carry the other so far, his leg was still tender from battle. Even though it was not voiced, Elrohir must feel atrocious from the shock, and the puckered hole in his leg.
The top was stitched shut, the arrow came out clean. They hoped no poison coated the point, fervently, the herbs they had were mild and general antitoxins. Elladan could not risk a fire, smoke would be seen, and the medicines were foul to ingest other wise. Elrohir was slightly nauseous; this would not be enjoyable on either's part.
The injured brother took a few small sips of the water, even though he felt dehydrated. He knew in the back of his mind, what was going on and instinct rather than muddled wit dictated his actions. Somewhere he knew his brother's fears of being caught, not getting to Lothlorien, but pain and dizziness overwhelmed him.
"Hey Elrohir, stay up, chew on these." Elladan extended his hand out for his brother take the dry plants collected from their journey. The older brother stood, watching sympathetically as the grimaces of the unflavorful plants escaped to Elrohir's face. They were going to be in trouble come nightfall, Elrohir needed to rest, and be warm, but they would be found. Elladan's leg was healed, but stiff, and he tired much faster that usual. He could not carry his brother far enough, or fast enough to escape the orcs, if they wanted the elves' heads.
"How far is the village, they would shelter us." Elrohir's voice was a soft strained noise, but it penetrated his brother's distracted mind.
"We can not ask them to help us now, we are only bringing trouble to their gates." Elladan considered that but could not justify another attack on the town, just for a little help. "I could build a flet, I do not know if you could get up there."
"Try... That plan is - the best we have. We can not travel fast enough to escape attention, they know that." Elrohir's breathing came as quick, short gasps, Elladan was fearful of poison. "One is not able to work while gazing off into nowhere, hurry, or I shall kick your shins."
Elladan worked gathering suitable wood and built a small camouflaged hideaway up in the branches of a large tree, it was off the ground., but not as far as he would have preferred. It was the easiest place to hide with the flet. No quite the quality of the Lothlorien, or the Mirkwood, but no one was here to berate him about it.
It was nearing noon when he was done. Hunger pains touched him, kneeling by the pack, his leg spasmed. It might be best to get Elrohir up there now. Elrohir sat dazedly against a weeping willow, sharpening a knife against a whetstone. He set them down and spoke out, "'Dan is it ready?" His breathing was little better, Elladan feared to be stuck out here for days. Taking a bite of a journey cake, he offered the water skin to his brother.
They finished lunch in silence, hearing nothing but wind, and the faint impression of sorrow, from the trees. Elladan stood slowly, and shifted his weight to his right leg. "What a 'lame' pair we make, hey brother." Elrohir lifted his head to smile, but it did not reach his eyes. "Come let us haul ourselves into that tree, should the gracious host return." He lifted his brother, threw him undignified over one shoulder.
"You will exclude this from... the part of the ballad telling of our – adventure?" Elrohir tensed, in pain, or agitation, as he was hoisted into the tree, and unbecomingly plopped into the branches. The boughs cleared room for him; the leaves blocked the two elves from sight. Elladan lifted himself onto the flet with his arms.
Elrohir settled himself by the trunk, his eyes semi closing with sleep. Elladan sat quietly massaging cramps out of his leg. He attentively stretched it, it was stiffing up, responding to the unusual, unnecessary interruptions in healing. He saw his brother sleep, but made no action to stop it. The wound did not appear infected or poisoned; there would be definite signs of either by now. Orc poisons were fast, but unusually painful almost from instance of entry. His brother would have said something if he knew that was wrong.
Elladan wished that Estel's and Legolas' mission was more successful, but with their combined luck, it was doubtful. They could in a pasture single handedly find and brush on the only toxic plant for eight square leagues. Though Legolas always remained cautious, almost to the point of arrogant paranoia. Estel trusted everyone unless he was given obvious reason not to, but he had a good judge of character. Elladan just wished they were not killing each other...
Legolas lay face down on a bed, tired trying to stay awake. They had a vote on whether to stay at the inn longer; he was beat two to one. The firelight flickering softly, the soft mattress, the hushed voices of his companions, gentle singing arising from the lower level, and the darkened sky did nothing to aid him. All the elements were against him, though he sorely just to drift off for a moment.
It was raining outside, they could not leave. To leave, there was nothing that Legolas wanted more. He feared to move, the cloth moved as well brushing against the wounds. It felt horrible blisters and open shallow cuts. He was not the only feeling unadventurous, Estel perched on a stool Myliné had borrowed from the bar, still winced from the weight of the shirt on his back. The steady beat of the rain hit the roof, did nothing to aid Legolas' migraine. He did not move, he was too dizzy to, and sick. Embarrassment clouded his muddled thoughts, some warrior he was. Though a simple bar fight did not justify the ending of the human's lives, he had more control than that. Humans, of course, held no such moral principles.
He registered the floor boards' creak, and opened his eyes to the light, wincing. Myliné's concerned face smiled, she knelt in front of him, her eyes soft brown panged with compassion and pity. 'I am not some one to be sympathizing on, nor worried about, these injuries are nothing.' But he kept quiet. He did not trust himself to speak.
"Just checking up on you," her gaze faded out into thought. Her fair features passed onto memory, and dark thought. Red lips contorted into a frown, tears came to her eyes. She blinked and whispered, "I am going to sleep, and you can't." She pretended to taunt him. She remained frowning. She settled down into the bed, and quiet breathing from the bed.
Aragorn pulled his stool over to the elf's side, "You can probably sleep, I'll need to wake you every hour, but at least it will be rest." The ranger successively stifled a yawn, and shook himself.
"What about you? You need to sleep as well..." Legolas felt his eyes closing, he opened them to catch the ranger rubbing his eyes. With a small snicker, he quietly punctuated every word, "Human. Go. Get. Some. Sleep. You. Are. Not. An. Elf. This is the second night with no rest; your endurance is at its end."
"You make me sound like a disobedient elfling, and, uhh, someone needs to wake you up every hour." Estel raised an eyebrow to seem authoritative, after scrambling to justify his point.
Myliné's voice tired, and seeking a compromise spoke to them, she said from what they thought slumber. "I'll take the third and to fourth times doing it, the seven and eight, as well as the tenth. Now quit squabbling, two of us should be resting."
Legolas stayed silent, at least the ranger would get some rest. "And you will wake me up for my watches, and I don't sleep through the night." She laid her head against the pillow.
She fell asleep, as he could tell for real. His breathing evened out as well, the crippling pain in his head slowing his assent to slumber. He barely remembered hearing the young human man saying, "I do not squabble." He relaxed and became dead to the world.
Aragorn woke up, after going to bed for the last time an hour ago, and stretched himself up. He had been switching the bed with Myliné, he felt embarrassed about that, though he reasoned, he had no reason to be. He rolled over, and planted his feet on the floor. The cold stone rushed into him and he shivered. Straightening his clothes he glanced out the window, the sky looked clear, though the window faced west.
He pulled on his boots and his cloak and went downstairs to get breakfast. He grimly reflected the strange looks he'd been getting, 'I guess it is not every day that some that attacks the sheriff gets of scott free.' Myliné was still on watch until eight when they would wake the elf up, and leave, it was his end of the deal to get everything ready, and get them breakfast, and she got an hour less of sleep.
Estel sat down at the wiped down bar, and waited patiently until the young waitress poked her head out of the kitchen. She was a woman about thirty, and looked tired, "I'll be by to take the orders in a second, sir." She dashed back in and came out with a glass of water. Setting it down in front of him, she faked a smile, "So what did you want? We eggs, porridge, and my specialty, pancakes. Well that and bread and honey, what every you prefer, remember it's on the house." She leaned in closer to him, "And order expensive, my employer's an ass for not letting us vouch for your friend when it happened. My sisters and I were on duty, and we saw the whole thing. It is terrible the way you and your friend were treated."
"Just three porridges and two teas, and coffee, and wrap up three loaves of that honeyed bread." He waited for it to be made then made his way up carrying the food, the waitress carrying the beverages. Legolas was still asleep, his eyes half lidded. The waitress remained quiet and handed Myliné the cups of tea. Estel ate his food gulped his coffee in silence and packed everything into the assorted bags.
He briefly checked the weapons, and left Legolas' bow and knives upstairs. Aragorn made several trips up and down the stairs and saddled the two horses. Legolas' demonic mare was well, demonic; she refused to quit whinnying, and screaming. It sounded like a pack of wargs were attacking her. She had been going off and on all night. He slowly quieted her down, but noticed the ever present agitation. The bond Legolas had with his horse was unimaginable, Aragorn mused.
He trudged back up the stair for the last time that day, and walked into the room. A shriek rang out and Myliné dove behind a bed. She was changing? He did not see anything, he hoped. 'No nothing.' From under a sheet on one of the beds came a petulant voice. "Ranger, I know that you lived in Rivendell with your brothers, but even they learned to knock." The voice continued more quietly so Estel had to strain to hear, "Ah, Light, my head, that scream."
The ranger back out of the room with his eyes closed, "Uhh everything is ready down there, Myliné I'm sorry I swear, uh I'm goin', yeah, to saddle, err bridle the breasts, beasts." Legolas' did not audibly laugh, but he could see as he shut the door, the entire bed shaking.
He walked down the stairs, his face bright red, and bridled the horses with out a word. He did not even make eye contact with either of them when the finally appeared. Legolas had a hand on her shoulder to steady himself. He was a little pale, but did not look so gaunt after the night's rest. Estel did not miss seeing him wince when he pulled himself up onto the back of his horse, the mare was an angel. She whickered, and walked so smooth, you could paint a masterpiece on her back. Estel felt jealous as his tall horse's gates were nothing short of hell. The elf was very cold and murderous looking when they rode through the town. His face had become the steely statue that he must practise at. The majority of the people stayed clear of him and the unfortunate souls to cross his path were sent to bows and scrapping as they passed. The elf did not bother to acknowledge them.
He horse kept pulling up at the reins, and Estel finally urged him to go forward faster, his long strides quickly out distanced Legolas' mare who was content for the moment at her slowly smooth walk. Myliné was in the front a little ahead of them, they were crossing an open field, Legolas kept an eye open for company. The elf had become withdrawn after the visit in the town, as he had been when they first met, prone to argue, proud, and hot tempered. He barely joked or smiled, Aragorn hoped Legolas was no mad at them.
Aragorn turned, and observed Legolas' mare had sped up and was almost beside them. "Wondering when you would notice, ranger. I feel a disturbance near by, but it is heading away from us, slowly. Ride up and call Myliné to stop. Keep the horse quiet, and when I tell you two, run for the trees. We will follow."
"Do you know what it is?" The ranger glanced around, his eyes not seeing anything but shadowed trees.
"No, hurry up, I wish to ascertain that exact idea." Aragorn took leave of him with his horse. Myliné had stopped a ways ahead, and by the time the ranger caught up, Legolas waved them on. He wheeled his horse off into the trees, from there he pulled himself into one. He stood in one for a while, his hands on head pressed against the bark of the old poplar. He jumped from the branch to his horse's back and trotted her over to them.
"Just a small packed of wolves and we are down wind. Let us make progress before nightfall." Legolas' now eager mare took the lead. She snaked her way between trees, finding the places where she would not accidentally knock her rider off. Legolas pulled at the back of his clothing, and Aragorn realized them must be brushing against the back of his bandages, his own where itchy and painful.
Barely ducking in time to miss a branch, he heard a crash from behind him. He turned to see Myliné sitting on the forest floor, Legolas turned his horse back around and loped to get the reins of the free elvish beast. Estel dismounted and helped her up. She winced.
Legolas mumbled out loud before any one could say anything else, "Death and tragedy love us so much, that they brought friends." Myliné smirked, though her hand would not leave her back. "You are not well are you?" She bit her lip.
"I'll be fine, uhh just got up too fast." She still leaning on Estel for supporting held her head with her other hand. "I am fine really, just when the world stops spinning, I need to sit down."
Aragorn heard something elvish he dare not repeat. Lowering her to the ground, he shook his head. "We'll sit here for a second, alright." He glanced at the elf whose expression became serious, "What is wrong?"
Legolas' eyes searched the forest, and from where he had sensed the wolves leaving. "They are coming back. Fast, either they heard us, or we are in they way of something they want." Legolas' eyes were full of confused anger as he decided what to do. "I think there are no more than twenty..." He was thinking out loud, not discussing battle strategy with the ranger. "If, just a few more warriors..." He sighed and mumbled, "The only way..." Legolas shifted his horse around and threw the reins to Aragorn. He moved on the horse's back, and rubbed his temple.
"Aragorn, wolves approach us, we can not hide nor outrun them in the forest, so we must engage them. I hope we have the element of surprise, but I will try and stop most of them before the get back to this side of the clearing. I need you on the ground to get those that get through. Myliné you must ride hard into the forest. I sense no dark creatures, from there, we will catch up." He shifted again the mare's ears went back. He untied his bow from the packs behind him, and drew it. Aragorn did not miss the grimace.
"I hate to tell you this, Legolas, but remember yesterday and, and I know you are not able to recall the night before, do let me fill in the blanks. You were, are seriously injured, and I will-"
"Ranger, you can not think such maladies would slow me down, we need to hurry. They are approaching I want to not even let them into the clearing." Legolas winced and scrubbed his head.
"Please, stop..." Myliné sat on the leave covered floor, glanced at them dizzily, her head lolled. Estel guilty dropped to his knees and Legolas bowed his head.
"I need to leave..." Legolas, sought out Estel's eyes.
The ranger cradled the woman's semiconscious body. "I'll ride with her away, and lead the other horse so I can to come help you." Legolas waved back at them, he crouched low on his horse's neck, bow in one hand an arrow in the other. The mare was virtually silent as her hoofs hit the ground, a full out gallop in the woods.
"Noro lim, mellon nin." Legolas' beauty ran faster. Estel put Myliné up in the saddle and mounted up. Holding her infront of him, he carefully made his way through the brush and trees as fast as he dared. He noticed to his amusement, that Myliné horse had perfectly smooth gaits as well.
So here we have it, angst all 'round.
(Random moans, groans, and threats to talk to personal injury laywers.)
Oh suck it up babies, how bad could it hurt!
Elladan: (menacingly) You really want to know...
Oh mayhap not...
But I want to know what you think so review!!!
See yah in two weeks unless there is some unforeseeable tradegy. (Backed into corner by angry characters armed with weaponry) Or not so unforeseeable.
Reviewer responses:
San: Thanks for support, and more fun to come. Mhwa wa wa...
Navaer Lalaith: Thanks for the sight I'll check it out.
Xkuroxshinobix: www.uib.no/People/hnohf/sindarin.htm, and I'll email you tommorrow the dictionary. Thanks for the review.
Mornflower: I can give you a URL www.uib.no/People/hnohf/sindarin.htm, and I'll email you the dictionary that I was given tomorrow night.
Deana: Yah he's fun to pick on, though I can think of several more kinds of angst that you know nothing about... (Evil cackling.)
