Valours Children

Disclaimer: see chapter 1

short A/N at the end of this chapter.

I still have no beta so all the typos and mistakes are my own.

Thank you for your reviews ((((hugs))))

Enjoy!

Chapter 3: Left Alone

Hugging each other closely, the two children had watched the whole fight, with eyes, wide with fear, to its bitter end.
Estel had clamped one hand over Tindómë's mouth to keep her from screaming and giving away their presence. The girl struggled in his grip but he did not let her go. It was still too dangerous and he was the one who was responsible for her safety.
Glorfindel had asked him to keep an eye on the girl when he had brought her up into the tree for the night.Tindómë was asleep when Glorfindel had carried her up to the old flet, he laid her down near the tree trunk and tucked her in one of their blankets to keep the chill of the night away from her.
Estel had promised to watch over the little girl until Glorfindel would come up later too.

Some time later he fell asleep too only to be jerked out of his dreams by the ear shattering screams of the attacking orcs and the sound of metal clashing against metal in this furious battle that took place
down below on the ground.
Estel would never forget the screams he heard that night and the things he was forced to watch, they would follow him for a long time and haunt him in the nights to come.

From their vantage point they had a clear view of the things that happened. He tried to block Tindómë's view with his body but in vain. She was horrified by the racket of the battle cries and the screams and the only thing she wanted was her ada.
Estel whispered to her and tried to tell her that her ada would be here with them soon, but until then they had to remain silent. The only thing he could do right now was to sooth the sobbing child in his
arms with words and soft strokes along her trembling back.
He wanted to believe his own words but he failed miserable, especially when he watched one elf fall after the other.
He wanted nothing more then to avoid his eyes from the view down on the ground, but some kind of morbid fascination kept him from turning his gaze away.

He had never seen a battle this close ... to be honest ... he had never seen a battle at all. Estel had never expected that it would be like the events that evolved in front of him, he had not expected all this noise and blood. What he was forced to witness had nothing to do with the songs he had heard sitting beside a warm fireplace, it had nothing to do with glory and victory... it was just ... ugly and dirty, and he could do nothing more then watch helplessly.

The last one standing had been Glorfindel, fighting like a man possessed, but not even the skill of a Balrog slayer could have saved him from his fate.
Standing in the middle of a circle of dead orcs he tried to fight the orcs who attacked him now that no other elf was left, from all sides.
Glorfindel never saw the club that hit him from behind, it hit him on the lower left side of his back and the sickening sound of breaking bones could be heard even in the crown of the tree.

Estel could only watch in horror, how Glorfindel tried to whirl around with a pain filled scream but failed because his crushed bones refused to carry his weight anymore. The warrior fell forward right into the
blade of a scimitar that slashed across his stomach. Glorfindel's body crashed to the ground without another sound and moved no more.

Shortly after the end, the orcs left the camp behind, carrying the slaughtered horses with them.

The children dared not to leave the confines of their shelter until the sound of the marching pack disappeared in the distance and even then they stayed up on the flet until they could be sure that no orc
was left behind to watch over the remnants of the elven camp.
So they sat on the flet, hugging each other closely, trembling and sobbing, until Estel decided that he would go down and see if one of the elves had survived the fight.

He has watched the campsite over Tindome's shoulders but he could not make out movements nor had he heard a sound. From what he was forced to witness he could not believe that anybody would have been able to survive this, but he still had hope that he was wrong. He prayed to the Valar that he was wrong and that there was still one or more living souls down in this mess of blood, gore and dead bodies.
"Little one, I need to go down and see to your ada but I promise you that I will be back soon and pick you up. Please stay here until I come back. Can you do this for me?"

Estel tried to loosen the hold of Tindómë's arms around his waist, but the only thing he achieved was that she hugged him more tightly then before.
Her sobbing had subsided some time ago, but she still had not uttered one word, the girl only clung to him like he was some sort of lifeline.

"Tindómë ... please ... let me go. I promise I will come back. I do not leave you alone. Do you understand me?"

Tindómë nodded against his chest and loosened her grip. Estel crept to the edge of the flet and proceeded to climb down the tree.
"Where is my ada?" Tindómë's whispered question was barely audible and he would not have heard her would the forest not have been so quiet. Estel looked back over his shoulder and saw her sitting there,
sniffling and rubbing her swollen red eyes.
"I will look for your ada and when I find him, I will come back and get you. Will you be fine here meanwhile?" He answered her, not knowing what he would do should there be no elf alive down on the
ground and how he should get the girl from the tree in this darkness.
The only thing that gave a bit of light in this black night was the dying campfire. It would not last forever and then the darkness would be complete. There was no moonlight that could help, it seemed that
even the moon hid his face behind the heavy clouds not wanting to see what had happened to the Eldar.

He did not know what to do should no elf be alive down there.

Where should they go?

He had not paid much attention to the tales ofthe elves about the routes and the villages alongside the hills, he had been too busy to watch his surroundings, the birds in the sky, the plains with the swaying grass and other things like the little rabbits playing a little bit off of their path. Now he scolded himself for not listening better.

Maybe he should take Tindómë and try to go back to Imladris, or maybe it was better to try to reach the river and Lorien? They had no horses, they had no provisions, they had nothing.

He did not know the way.

They would not make it.

It was hopeless.

No ... do not despair ... you have made a promise. A promise to protect Tindómë and you will stay true to your word!'He scolded himself before he left the flet after a last reliant nod and a smile to Tindómë.
He searched his way down very carefully; he could not allow himself a misstep.

Reaching the ground he turned around with a relieved sigh and gasped. The scene looked much worse then it had from above. The flickering fire helped him to take in the whole scenery. Everywhere around him lay the dead bodies of orcs, he guessed that it must be close to fifty of them, but he was not sure, it could be more it could be less, the floor was littered with them.
Slowly he crept closer to the place where he last had seen Glorfindel. He had not made more then two steps before he slipped, catching his balance short before he dropped to the ground he looked down only to notice that he stood in a pool of a black liquid. Estel lifted his foot to examine the substance when he noticed that it was blood ...black blood ... the view turned his stomach upside down. He barely
managed to get out of the puddle before he fell down on his knees and retched. After some time only dry heaves left his throat, his stomach has long lost all of its contents.
When the shaking stopped he wiped over his face with the sleeve of his tunic. He desperately wanted to wash the aftertaste out of his mouth, but for that he would need water.

Estel stumbled back on his feet and started to walk again, with trembling knees. This time he reached the fire and first he fed it with some wood that was wondrously still placed beside it. Soon the fire burned a lot brighter and finally Estel was able to see his surroundings much better and immediately he wished the darkness back.
For a few seconds he closed his eyes to block the gruesome sight of blood and death and took some deep breaths to calm his rapidly beating heart before he opened them again.
His eyes darted over the place to find Glorfindel, blocking all other thoughts from his mind.
There ... there was a glimpse of gold in all this mud and gore, only a few feet away from the place where he stood now.
Estel rushed over to the fallen elf as fast as his legs allowed him to, and prostrate beside him.
Glorfindel lay on his stomach in a slowly growing puddle of blood, his face turned to the other side.

Estel did not know what to do.
He had watched his father countless time, patching up his brothers or warriors, but he had no idea how to treat a wounded being. Was Glorfindel wounded or was he dead like the others? That was something he had to find out at first. Estel grabbed the shoulders of the warrior and pulled with all his
might to turn him on his back. Estel felt relieved when he saw that Glorfindel still drew breath,
shallow and weak, but there was breath at all. The boy sat back on his heel and looked over the prone body at his feet. There was a large bruise on the elf's forehead, but no blood there. He let his gaze roam over the Glorfindel's body until he found a bloody gash across the warrior's stomach. Estel could see the wound through the torn tunic and the sight made him gag one more time. The rims were not smooth but ragged, the result of a crude forged orcish blade, and it was deep ... very deep. The blood had already
soaked the whole front of the shirt and it did not look like the blood flow would slow down.
Estel knew that he had to stem the bleeding immediately, but he had nothing at hand what he could use.
So he rose up again and searched the camp with the help of a burning branch and found some more or less clean blankets which he could use.
Returning to the fallen elf's side he tried to tore one of the blankets in pieces, but he had not the strength to do it, so he reached out with trembling hands, lifted Glorfindel's shirt and pressed the blanket on the wound without looking at it. He knew should he take a closer look, he would end up on his knees and throw up again, and that was a thing he wanted to avoid at all cost. He could not allow himself this weakness, not now.
Estel nearly jumped out of his skin, when the elf moaned, watching Glorfindel's face he could not see any sign that the warrior was going to wake up.

"Glorfindel? ... Can you hear me? ... Please, I do not know what to do. Help me!" The boy begged, but there was no answer. Glorfindel remained unconscious. Estel removed the blanket and noticed that the bleeding has lessened, but it had not stopped entirely, so he used another blanket, placed it on the wound as good as he was able and tugged it under the elf's sides, to prevent it from slipping off.
That was when he for the first time took notice of his trembling hands. It did not stop at his hands but spread over his arms and moments later his whole body shook, he fell sideward, buried his face in his
hands and cried until he had no tears left. Sobbing and hiccupping he laid on the ground, lost to the world until he felt someone touching him.

"Estel!" It was Tindómë. "Estel, why does ada sleep here? He promised to sleep with us in the tree."
Wiping the tears off of his face and sniffling, Estel embraced the girl.
"Maybe he did not want to disturb us and stayed with the warriors."

"Then I will wake him up and we can go back into the tree and sleep there." That reminded Estel of something. "What are you doing down here? I told you to stay on the flet until I come and get you."

"You were gone for such a long time and ... and... I felt lonely and .. and... I wanted my ada." Tindómë said with a small voice.
She crawled over to her father and poked him in his check, like she always did. Earning no response as usual, she tugged at his hair, but this time her little trick did not work, the only thing that happened
was that the elf's head lolled sideways.

"Estel, why does ada not wake up? He always gets up when I tug at his hair, why not this time? ... Ada...?" she tugged once more and started to cry when it failed again. Tindómë started to push against
Glorfindel's shoulders in a vainly attempt to shake him back to awareness.

Estel watched the tiny bundle of despair for some seconds before he crept closer and embraced her again. Rocking back and forth he tried to sooth the frightened child even if he did not feel much better. Soon exhaustion took over and the children slept again, curled up beside the wounded elf, searching for
comfort in each others embrace.

TBC

A/N: I never knew how many hits I had on a story before. But thanks to the new settings I am able to see it, but now I wish that I would not see it at all.

It is a little desillusiouning to see that the story so far had over 300 hits and only 4 reviews. Don't get me wrong, I do not want to upset one of you, by no means, but it would be very nice to leave only a short message if you like it or not. If you don't like tell me, but please be polite. ;-)

I do not know what I do wrong if you don't tell me. I only started writing last year and I need to know what I do wrong to improve my writing.

Thank you for reading this.

And many thanks for reading this story.