Title: Delw yomenie (Deadly encounter)
Characters: All Peredhils, mainly Strider, Legolas……and something/someone deadly….
Timeline: Before FOTR
Rating: K+
Warnings: Cruelty and maniacal behaviour. WIP.
Summery: Our Middle-Earth friends encounter something deadly…..
Feedback: YES! Please! looking-like-little-Estel-when-he-wants-something.
A/N: Many thanks to Trinilee for her fast beta work. Thank you! ;-)
Disclaimer: I own nothing of the works of Tolkien. Neither books, nor movies. I just borrow them and try to give them back in one piece later. I make no money with this story. Please, do not sue me.
Chapter 5 - Leaving
Great. It was not the first time that Estel thought this. The whole situation he found himself in was just great. Estel sighed and shifted his position, trying to ease the pain in his arms, legs and most importantly, his chest.
It had been a few hours since they had entered the camp. And upon seeing the men in the camp, all thoughts of escape had disappeared from Estel´s mind, faster than he could say "Nae!" (Oh my!).
The camp itself was not big. There were approximately ten tents, an area for the horses and some small fires. All tents were green instead of the usual white or brown and Estel had to admit that the camp was nearly invisible when one did not know what to look for.
Upon being shoved into the circle of light that came from the numerous fires, Estel had been able to see the faces of the other hunters. Involuntarily he had shuddered then. Not one of the men looked very pleased to see him. Their faces grim and their eyes dark, all the men had stared at him and the little boy. In some of the eyes Estel could make out the glimmer of exited anticipation. Estel did not need to wonder as to the cause.
When Dagnir had appeared in the light, Estel saw the men cringe and step back. If he had not been so occupied with his own discomfort at that moment, he would have sworn that the men were frightened to see their leader return.
After a short reunion with his men, Dagnir had given his second in command the order to "Get that scum out of my sight", which only served to increase Bauglirs good mood and Estel´s bad feeling.
He had shoved the ranger in the direction of one of the tents. It seemed that Bauglir had not the intention of getting the order done quickly. As Estel had stumbled on the way to the tent, due to his exertion and the sparse light, Bauglir had kicked him hard in the back of his knee, making him hiss in pain and fall to the ground on his knees.
The abrupt stop had woken Taran and the boy had started to cry silently again. Estel, not fast enough to regain his feet, had felt the rough hand of his captor on his arm, grasping it firmly and hoisting the ranger unceremoniously to his sore feet.
Another push in his back had made the ranger move on, Taran still crying in his arms. When they had reached the tent, Bauglir had nearly thrown Estel in, so eager was he to get the ranger in the tent, to do Valar know what out of sight of Dagnir.
The tent itself was not big, but high enough for a grown man to stand upright. It had two wooden beams in the middle of it, holding up the dark green walls of the tent. It had, of course, no fire-place in it and upon entering the tent, Estel had the feeling of walking into a grave, it was that cold in the tent. It was much colder than outside, due to the lack of a warming fire.
Dagnir had closed the tent flap, grinning widely, a wicked shine entering his eyes. 'Time to have a little fun with the ranger.' Dagnirs second in command had grabbed Estel´s arm again, pressing down so hard that Estel thought his bone would shatter any moment.
The ranger had set his jaw to keep from wincing and had tried to hold his grip on Taran as his arm began to go numb. Sighing inwardly, he had thought that whatever Bauglir had in store for him, it was nothing he wanted to know. Or feel.
But instead of killing the ranger on the spot, Bauglir had only slammed him against the wooden post, making Estel slide down to the bottom of it, hitting the floor hard. He then had bound the ranger's hands tightly together, effectively preventing Estel from moving much. Grinning, the hunter had then tied Estel to the post, making sure that the ranger could not move away.
Taran had stopped crying and had then looked with big eyes at the hunter, not sure if things had turned to the better or not. When Bauglir had stepped back a feet and had then started to eye the ranger up and down, Taran had decided that things had not turned to the better.
"That child will not protect you from me, ranger," Bauglir had spat and then, faster than Estel could have thought, Bauglir had slammed his fist into the future King's face, opening his bottom lip and making Estel wince in pain.
For the second time that day, he tasted blood in his mouth. Estel righted himself and stared at the man. He would not let himself be intimidated. Oh no. He was a ranger after all. And he had been in worse situations. He could handle a little pain.
"And, that child will not protect you from my men." Bauglir had stated, a wide grin still on his face.
Looking back stubbornly, Estel had made a mistake. Against his better instinct, he had answered. "Oh, and I thought that were Dangir´s men." Again, Bauglirs fist shot out, and Estel, unable to get out of the way, had felt his face connect with the fist and his head slam against the wooden post with such a force that red spots had appeared in Estel´s line of vision.
The next thing the ranger had felt, had been Bauglirs hand at his throat, cutting off his air supply. The face of the hunter, now only inches away from Estel´s own, had turned a deep red and the man's eyes had been darker than the midnight sky. Bauglirs eyes had burned into Estel´s, his hand pressing harder and making it impossible for the ranger to breathe.
"If I were you, I would hold my tongue, scum." Bauglir hissed, not suppressing his anger. He pressed down again, opening the cuts he had placed there the night before.
Spots were dancing in Estel´s vision and he felt his arms go slack, nearly dropping Taran. Every time he tried to breathe in, the hunters hand prevented him from filling his lungs with the needed air. He choked, desperately willing the air in his body.
Bauglir did not move an inch. His hand strangled the younger human, but he did not care. He was so furious at the moment that he would not mind killing that boy there and then.
'That's it. I am going to die here,' Estel thought. His chest was aching, no, it was agonizingly painful. His lungs screamed at him to breathe, to give them air and to let them work. His body trembled and cold sweat had appeared on his brow. With every futile attempt to breathe, the ranger lost more of his strength.
Darkness swept in from the edges of his vision and the sound of his own blood rushing in his ears had deafened out all other sounds. Estel felt his hands start to shake and his head press against the pole of the tent, his instincts trying to get his body away from the pain causing source.
After another few moments of choking pain in his throat and chest, Estel noticed in horror, that his chest had stopped moving altogether. His system had given up the struggling. His body had been defeated.
But his mind had not been. Not yet. Estel was not willing to give in to the darkness that haunted him, that called to him to venture further into the abyss. 'No, not yet. I will not die like this. Not now, not today, not ever.'
With all the strength that Estel had left, he opened his eyes and resumed his fight. He would not back down.
xoxoxoxo
Bauglir saw the rangers body give up the fight. He saw how the rangers arms opened in the bonds and the child almost fell out of them. The shivering of the body had stopped some time ago and the chest of the bound man had stopped fighting against the lack of air.
In a part of his mind the hunter knew that he should not kill the ranger, that it was his order to keep him alive for the time being. But, this ranger, this scum, had angered him. Angered him again, that was. Bauglir was not strong enough to resist his animalistic instincts. Not at that moment.
When his victim's eyes had slowly closed, shutting out the pain and having taken their last look on the world, Bauglir grinned in glee. That was a good feeling. He loved that feeling. Too sad it would be over so soon.
xoxoxoxo
"Elladan, I am ready. Hurry up." Elrohir called to his twin over his shoulder. Even before the first small sunny rays had warmed the earth, Elladan and Elrohir had abandoned their beds and had prepared to leave.
They had had a quick breakfast in the kitchen and had readied their weapons and packs in the entrance hall. Now, as the sun had begun to melt the mist in the forest and on the cobbled pathways of Imladris, Elrohir waited impatiently for his brother.
Elladan was stuffing hands full of herbs into his pack, followed by clean bandages and some bottles filled with potions. In the early midnight hours, when he had packed his things, Elladan had already readied his healing supplies.
But now, he had not been able to shake off the feeling that he had not packed enough. Therefore he had re-packed his bags and filled them with even more healing utensils. He just hoped that he would not need them. And hoping was all he could do, because inside he knew, that before this all was over, most of these herbs would have been used.
Tying up his last bag, Elladan turned away from his bed and headed after his brother. When he exited his room and stepped out into the corridor, he glanced back at the bedroom of his little human brother. Sighing, Elladan turned away sharply, and without another look back, made his way to the entrance hall.
His father and brother were already waiting for him. They were deep in a hushed conversation and Elladan wondered what it was about. Elrond had not been pleased that they left alone, but he had accepted it and given them his approval.
Reaching his brothers side, Elladan caught up on the conversation. After hearing the first few fragments of speech, his face paled and his stomach dropped. Oh, he had completely forgotten for a moment. How could he have been so forgetful?
"Elladan, what do you think?" Elrohir asked of his twin, having turned his brown eyes towards his brother. Sighing, Elladan contemplated the question a moment, pretending to think it over.
Actually, he had already decided the second his brother had asked. Facing his family, Elladan answered: "I don't think we should. It would upset him. I cannot face him now, knowing that we will leave him here."
Elrohir nodded, having the same feelings. Elrond looked at his sons. He knew they were right, and he did not want to burden the already troubled souls of his sons even more. Therefore, he, too, nodded. "Aye, then so be it. I will go to Legolas and tell him everything when you are gone."
"Hannon le, Ada." Elladan told his father. The twins shouldered their bows and swords together with the rest of their packs. They wore dark green and brown travel and hunting clothes, which were completed by a moss green elven cloak. They looked so identical that even Elrond would have had problems distinguishing them, had he not been their father.
Elrond, trying to keep a straight face, accompanied his boys to the big double doors of the entrance hall. Here, he embraced each of his sons in a close hug, whispering in their ears to stay save and to watch out.
When the twins started down the first step of the stairs leading to the door, they turned around and Elrond said with a voice full of emotion: "Nai tiruvantel ar varyuvantel i Valar tielyanna nu vilja." (May the Valar watch over your path under the sky) "And may the Valar watch over yours, ada." Elrond swallowed and faced his sons determined faces.
"Bring him back to me. And come back to me yourselves." The twins nodded, both not sure that their voices would obey them. They sent a brief and reassuring smile to their ada, then turned and headed off in the direction of the woods, not daring to look back.
Elrond stood in the huge door, his eyes following his sons on their way into the unknown. He stood there until they entered the green forest that surrounded Rivendell, and long moments after they had vanished from his sight.
When Elladan and Elrohir entered into the forest, he had a feeling that had nothing to do with his gift of foresight, but that was born out of his role as a father. The feeling that it would be the last time that he would see his twin sons alive.
xoxoxoxo
Legolas had awoken when the sun had peeked through the window beside his bed in the healing wing. He had tried to get up, but the wound on his side had throbbed mercilessly with the movement and the elf had lain down quickly.
Through all the bandages that were wound around his chest and side, it was difficult for him to move much. His headache was a little better, but he still felt light headed and weak. Much weaker than he liked to admit.
He looked around. There was no healer was in sight. At least that's something, the blond archer thought. He hated being in the hospital wing and with a healer constantly hovering over him and watching every move, he felt even more like an elfling.
Legolas sighed. He should not complain. It was not him who had been kidnapped and taken into the wilds by some lunatics. Legolas shivered at that thought. Why had he thought that? Was his mind trying to torture him, too? Was it not enough that he had let Estel down?
He should have done something that night. What kind of warrior was he to storm into a room full of unknown enemies? What if Estel had been leaning against the bedroom door, a dagger at his throat? It made Legolas sick to even think about it. If that had been the case, he would have killed his best friend.
If only he could do something now. But no, he was bed-bound, in this stupid healing wing. They would not let him go, he knew that. Lord Elrond would not allow him to get out of bed and search for Estel. As the archer thought this, another thought entered his mind, unbidden but unwilling to go away. No, he could not go. He couldn't.
Soft footsteps neared the door to his room. With a gentle knock, the creaking of the handle, a rustling of robes, Lord Elrond entered the healing chamber. Legolas turned towards his friend's father, eyes big and blue like the ocean.
"They are gone, are they not, hir nin (my Lord)?"
Elrond did not need to answer. The look on his face was all Legolas needed to see. The twins were gone.
Legolas inhaled deeply, and then moved his head to face away from the elf lord. They had gone to find Estel. They had gone without him. The twins had gone to do what he could not do. It hurt him to be left behind. And it hurt him even more to be left behind by the twins without so much as a word from them.
Deep inside he knew that they would be faster without him That he was only a burden. But, he was their friend. He was Estel´s friend. He just could not help feeling abandoned.
When he felt the touch of lord Elrond´s hand on his shoulder, he closed his eyes. He was a burden. He was useless. He had let his best friend down and now he had not been able to help rescue him. What kind of friend was he?
Silent tears wanted to escape his closed eyes, but Legolas would not let them fall. No, he would not show the Lord of Imladris his tears. He had let everybody down, but he would not burden the Lord of Imladris with his tears now. Elrond was already worrying about two immortal lives, and one mortal. He would not add to that worry. Elrond worry was enough to fill two immortal lives.
xoxoxoxo
His jaw nearly dropped and his eyes widened in shock. That cannot be. That is impossible.
Bauglir thought he was imagining this. Because what he saw before him just could not be true. That insufferable ranger should be dead by now.
And still, the young ranger before him, his victim, the man that he wanted to kill more than anything else at this moment, had opened his eyes. Moreover, he had not just opened his eyes for a last blink on the world. No, he was staring at him. Eyes clear and grey as a snow storm in a cold winter's night.
That damn ranger was still alive and fighting.
Bauglir had enough. Overriding his common sense, he used his other hand to help the first and together both his hands pressed down hard, choking the life out of the ranger. Bauglirs face had turned even redder, his eyes were mad with anger and his features resembled that of an insane killer. Which he was at that moment.
xoxoxoxo
Estel felt his strength leaving him. Bauglir used all his brute strength to finish his task of strangling the ranger. And if Estel wanted to admit it or not, Bauglir was very strong, and sooner or later he would succeed.
The ranger's head had begun to hurt with a vengeance. It felt as if it wanted to crack open any second to ease the pressure that had built behind his forehead. Estel heard his own blood roar in his ears. His chest felt as if a mountain troll had paid a visit and mistaken it for a chair. His ribs hurt and his lungs were on fire.
All strength had left his legs and his arms had gone numb. Even if he wanted to move them, he could not. His vision had begun to blur and it seemed as though a red curtain had laid itself over his eyes.
Estel could still see Bauglir through the red mist and the black dots that had moved into his vision a few seconds ago. These spots grew from moment to moment, already blocking half of his vision. Estel was loosing the fight, and he knew it.
When finally the urge to give in to the welcoming darkness had become impossible to ignore, Estel´s thoughts were with his family. He hated to cause them pain. And then he thought of Taran. He just hoped that his brothers would reach the little one in time. He knew they were coming. He was certain of it. But he also knew that they would be too late to rescue him.
"Baug!" an angry voice shouted in the distance. Suddenly, the hands on his throat vanished. Estel could not figure out why the hands had released their murderous hold on him. It did not matter at the moment.
As if from far away he heard another angry shout and then other hands were on his neck, not so rough ones, feeling for a pulse. They seemed not to find what they were looking for, because soon the hand vanished only to reappear seconds later at his wrist, feeling for his pulse again.
"Baug, you have killed him." Only then did Estel realize that his chest was still not moving. He was not breathing. A cold sensation spread in his stomach. He was not breathing. Valar, he was dying. Or was he already dead? No, he could not die now! Not this way, not when he still had things to do. Like revenging Legolas or preventing Taran from being harmed.
For a second time since entering the tent, Estel focused all his strength into the simple task of opening his eyes. If he could regain his sight, then he perhaps could get his body under control. After some moments of futile attempts, Estel felt that he made no progress and the darkness was calling to him even more. Finally, he gave the task of opening his eyes up.
No, that did not work. He needed to resume breathing! He concentrated on his starved lungs, willing them to work. To let the air rush into them, to let him breathe, to let him live.
But, alas, it was not to be. His chest would not move, his lungs trapped in his own body, would not move either.
The voices around him were drowned out by the sound of his beating heart. It still beat, sending his blood circulation through his body. But it had slowed its pace, being so weak and shallow that no pulse had been able to be detected.
Estel listened to his heart. He heard its rhythmic tact and he noticed how it became slower and quieter. His head felt light, gone was the enormous pressure and the pain. His chest had stopped hurting and his lungs were feeling normal, apart from the fact that they were not working as they should.
Warmth was spreading through his body, covering him and easing his troubled soul. It would be over soon. Estel felt his body weight gone, he felt light and airy, strangely separated from the earth. He was ready to go.
Then, suddenly, he heard another sound drift towards the mist that was surrounding him. The sound laid itself over the rhythmic beating of his heart. It was a strange sound. Something the ranger had not heard before. A pleading sound, but different from all Estel knew.
The ranger concentrated on the new sound, curious what it was, despite his desire to leave the pain and worry behind. When his ears caught the sound a second time, it was nearer and clearer. It was a whining sound.
Then the sound stopped, but a new sensation replaced the voice. A weight was pressing on his stomach. And two little weights were placed on his chest. Estel wondered what this was and concentrated harder to understand the words that were uttered again.
If the ranger had been able to blink in confusion, he would have. They weren't words. No, they were rather "sounds". A babbling noise and a whining sound. It sounded distressed and full of fear.
The weight pressed again at his chest, then at his chin. Again a squealing sound could be heard, then a pat on his cheek, followed by another, another and another. Whatever was causing the touch on his skin, it by now made a choking sound, much like a little crying child.
A child. A child! Taran! It all came rushing back to the dying ranger. The hunters. Legolas. The walk through the night. The tent. Bauglir. And then, Taran. It must be the boy who had placed himself on Estel´s chest, who was now crying and patting his cheek with his small hand.
The fog in his brain lifted somewhat at that thought. He needed to move, to breathe, to live! Fight, fight Estel! The human encouraged himself. Fight for your life! And then, after a moment of painful awareness of his situation, Estel´s chest moved.
That had been a few hours ago. After minutes of fighting with his body and willing his lungs to work again, after a lot of coughing and trembling, Estel had been able to breathe normally again. As normal as one could when they had been near being strangled to death that was. And as normal as one could when they were tied securely to a tent post.
His arms were still aching and his legs still felt numb. His head was pounding in the rhythm of his heart, which was not a good sign. The lack of air had caused Estel to get the worst headache he had ever experienced, including the one time when Elrohir and Elladan had thrown him out of a tree when they had been hunting and he had landed on his head, rather than on his back, when he fell.
Wincing, the ranger straightened his back, which had begun to ache, too. No wonder, considering his position on the cold floor. His back was hurting, but his chest was causing the ranger more trouble.
The entire struggle to resume breathing and the small fight with that mad hunter had not helped the broken and bruised ribs in the slightest. Soon after the ranger had returned fully to the world of the living, his chest had burned with hot fire, sending sharp pains through the rest of his body, especially his arms and head.
It hurt a lot. More than a normal broken rib should. Estel knew that certain pain from experience. No, it seemed that something else was wrong with him, but the ranger did not know what yet. All he knew was that it would not help his current situation.
Not to mention his various other aches and hurts. His throat, for example. It had been uncomfortable during the walk yesterday night, but now it was actually hurting as if he had eaten broken glass.
Every time Estel swallowed, he felt his throat tighten and it felt as if he had swallowed a handful of sand. Furthermore, an itching feeling had spread in his throat, making him suppress it and forcing him to take shallow breaths. He had taken a deep breath to test the itch, which had resulted in a coughing fit of several moments.
Great.
At least, Estel thought, little Taran was still well. It had indeed been the small edan that had rescued him. After Estel had lost his fight with the encroaching darkness, the little boy had hoisted himself onto the rangers stomach, placing his little hands on Estel´s chest to upright himself.
When the ranger had not moved and shown no sign of waking, Taran had started to cry and pat Estel´s cheek, the only part the child could reach. It had woken the ranger and rescued him out of his stupor.
Taran was again snuggled up in Estel´s arms with his thumb in his mouth. The childs head was placed near Estel´s upper arm, the free hand tangled in the ranger's tunic. He looked so innocent, so vulnerable.
And he trusts me. This thought made Estels heart heavy. That little boy does not even know me, but he trusts me. I cannot let him down. I will not betray his trust. I will help him stay alive. And secure. I will see that he will meet his family again.
Slowly, the ranger's eyes dropped and soon, the human wandered off to sleep. His body needed all rest that it could get, as long as he was able to get it. And Estel´s soul, having endured much that day, welcomed the rest with open arms.
xoxoxoxo
To say that he was not happy was the understatement of the year. He was very unhappy. No, he was furious. His second in command had nearly killed the ranger. It was a wonder the boy had survived. How he had done that was still a mystery to Dagnir.
As much as the lead hunter hated the thought of the ranger in his camp, his orders had been clear. Harming him, yes, killing him now, no. The boy was his only way of controlling the child, the ranger was also his, Dagnir's, life insurance. As long as the human was in his "care", the elves would not attack, at least not soon. Of course he did not plan staying in these woods, but one could not be careful enough.
And then, Baug' had nearly ruined his plan. Could that idiot, second in command, not heed his orders at least once? First he had disobeyed him in Rivendell and now again. It seemed his subordinate needed his own lesson.
Dagnir had had a stern conversation with him after the incident, and after they had left the ranger's tent, of course. But now that Dagnir thought it over, Bauglir had not really paid attention to what he had said.
Turning on his heel, Dagnir made his way over to Bauglir, who was standing near one of the tents. When the leader had reached the other man's side, Bauglir faced him with questioning eyes. Questioning, not fearful like all of the others would have been had they been in his position.
Another thing that should change, Dagnir thought. Fixing his man with his red eyes, Dagnir said: "Baug, I think it is time for you to learn a bit of respect, and how to follow your captains orders."
With pleasure Dagnir noted how Baug's face went pale. Ah, it seemed the man understood finally. With the speed matching that of an elf, Dagnir drew his dagger and slammed it into his subordinate's leg. Not deep. Not so deep as to cause severe damage, but deep enough to make his man's face twist in pain.
Bauglir clutched his upper leg and winced as pain laced through his leg. The dagger was pulled out and Dagnir stepped back. He wiped his dagger clean and pointed with it at the wound. "You should take care of that. We don't want it to become infected, do we?"
With that the leader turned and melted into the shadows of the night, as soundlessly as he had appeared only moments before.
Bauglir, still pressing his hand firmly on the wound, threw a dark glare after his captain, then
turned also and hobbled to his own tent to clean and bind the wound. Oh, he would pay for that. He had had enough. He would pay for getting him hurt. Aye, Bauglir thought, that elf loving ranger would pay.
End of chapter 5
Tbc asap……..