Disclaimer: Refer to Chapter 1

Chapter 11: The Deepest Part of the Night

Moraelin slunk through the ruins, her expression one of annoyed disgust. By the Valar, what a stench. Feeling along a block of stone, she drew her sword, wincing as the blade made a loud ringing noise. The smell seemed to surround her as she left the stone monoliths and approached the stream. The tense expectation was finally broken as the sound of a scuffle reached her. Moraelin froze, squinting into the night, trying to see motion, knowing she could see nothing in the inky blackness. Then, the unmistakable scream of a frightened horse pierced the dark.

Moraelin broke into a run, stumbling once over a rock as she dashed blindly to the noise. She splashed into the creek, its shocking chill robbing her of breath as she trudged clumsily through the water.

She could make them out then, a huge warg facing down an undersized black horse. The two animals were circling each other in a deadly dance. Then, Rock reared, cracking a hoof across the warg's nose, earning him a swipe of claws across one shoulder. Undeterred, Rock leapt up again, flailing his sharp hooves at the stinking creature. The warg seemed to decide he was not worth the trouble, and twisted suddenly. It had found a new target.

Embryn spun, but could not flee fast enough. The warg leapt onto his back, his teeth sinking into the horse's beautiful neck. Embryn bucked wildly, trying to dislodge the warg. Moraelin crouched nearby, and when the two animals drew close, she sprang onto the warg. With one handful of reeking fur, she clung to its back. She swung her sword inward, between Embryn and the warg, and tore her blade across the warg's neck. She felt a great shudder run through its body at the sudden pain.

As the two animals reared one last time, Moraelin tried to jump clear of them. But, the massive body of the warg rolled over her, crushing her for a terrifying moment. She felt her back crack, a scream tear up her throat.

After a charged silence, Moraelin finally, reluctantly opened one eye, then the other. She glanced down at herself with trepidation. She was surprised to see her body was relatively intact. All except for her left arm, which was pinned under the dead warg. She grunted, trying to free the errant limb. The pain that burned through her shoulder brought a choking gasp to her mouth.

Moraelin gritted her teeth. She balled her other hand into a fist, slamming it against the ground in impotent anger. Realizing how useless that particular action was, she sighed. *Well, this is quite a fix I've gotten myself into.* She grabbed the arm with her right hand and tugged hard, but to no avail. The soft sound of hooves on grass approached her.

"Rocky," she said in relief.

The horse lowered his head, pushing at the dead body, trying to roll it off of Moraelin.

"That's right, boy. I just need a little help."

It worked. He moved the warg just enough for Moraelin to free her arm. She sat up groggily.

"Thanks, boy," she murmured, kissing his forehead, but felt a trickle of blood dripping down the fur of his neck. "I'll look at that in a bit," she promised.

Moraelin dragged herself along the rough ground to Embryn. The horse was panting wildly, trying to regain his feet. His front legs pawed the ground spasmodically, but his rear half did not move. His back was broken. Moraelin struggled to her knees, her left arm hanging useless at her side.

She pressed a gentle hand to the animal's neck and he stilled immediately. His brown eyes sought hers and she clenched her jaw, blinking back a tear.

"I'm sorry, friend," she whispered. She took a dagger from her boot and drew it quickly across the horse's throat, turning away as a spray of warm blood covered her lap.

Moraelin rose unsteadily to her feet, and had gone only a few staggering steps when the pain became unbearable. Her arm was out of its socket at the shoulder. She held it with her other hand and tried to force it back into place, only to feel her eyes roll back in her head as she nearly fainted.

Dropping to her knees, she cursed violently. Moraelin flattened her hand on the ground and threw her weight down on the arm. It popped back into its socket, but not before an intense flash of pain that made her wretch. Moraelin rolled to the side and lay facedown in the dirt. A sharp rock was digging into her cheek and grit was entering her mouth with every heaving inhalation. She felt an insistent nose poke into her bruised back.

"Leave me alone. I'm resting," she grumbled.

The horse grabbed her shirt in his teeth and lifted her a little off the ground, then dropped her heavily.

"You demanding son of a goblin, Rock!" she spat, "Fine! I'm up."

Moraelin scrambled to her feet, fighting down another mouthful of bile. She looked down at her injured arm, at her wounded and infuriating horse, then at the body of the dead horse nearby. She could feel a scream of frustration building in her gut, like a pot of water about to boil over. But, what escaped instead was an exasperated chuckle.

"Well, Rocky, I guess it can't get much worse."

But, she sobered quickly as a vision of Legolas flashed before her eyes. She saw his dull gray skin, his compelling blue eyes closed, their light stolen away. She regretted her words, knowing there was one notable way this situation could get a lot worse.

When finally the blood was washed from Rock and the taste of vomit washed from her mouth, Moraelin returned to him.

"Legolas," she called shakily from the entrance, but only silence greeted her. She stumbled to the elf and collapsed beside him. Despair was washing over her heart like a thick film of oil, coating it, letting no other feelings in. She draped her injured arm over Legolas's chest. It rose and fell weakly, haltingly, his choppy breathing loud in the small chamber.

"Legolas," she whispered, "I'm sorry. We should never have come by this way, we should never have come here. I thought it would be faster, I thought I knew. . . I'm so sorry."

She tucked her face into the crook of his shoulder. After a moment, she lifted her head, looking down at Legolas. He became a shining blur, the wash of tears over her eyes like a screen of warped glass. When her vision cleared again, she cocked her head, studying Legolas more carefully. He was frowning, his mouth moving slightly with indecipherable speech. A watery grin filled Moraelin's face. He was dreaming. Surely it was a good sign, it meant he was still in there somewhere. She wondered for a moment what he was thinking of, who he was talking to in his dreams. Maybe he dreamed of her.

Moraelin nearly laughed. Surely his highness had come across beings far more fit for a prince's deepest dreams than her. She smirked and shook her head, feeling sorry for herself for the briefest instant. Self-pity was not something she usually indulged in, but today, she felt she'd earned it.

Thank you to my WONDERFUL reviewers: Dragon-of-the-north, TigerLily, Stun04, and Crazy*Girl.