Sorry, yet another long wait - I hope you enjoy this chapter anyway )
Thanks for your lovely reviews, keep them coming.
A big "Thank you" to San for her editing - she even had to put up with me putting in some German (that´s what happens when you use a German-Elvish dictionary to write English-Elvish dialogues, sigh...)
Have fun!
Alina
Rating: PG 13
Disclaimer: Not mine...
Ice-Wind and Ravens
Flakes dance no longer over the village by the creek. The new day dawned over snow that was still red from blood. No hope for life was revealed by its tentative rays but death and loss.
"Foeir! Foeir! Nu, gwanur" /Right! Right! Down, brother/
Elladan´s voice was little more than a distant whisper on a breeze, hardly strong enough to brush past Elrohir´s focus on the fight; yet the younger twin's reaction still came swiftly. Not even knowing what he was dodging, the elf ducked away from his foe's side and dove for the ground. He used the opportunity to slash at the man's legs. His sword found flesh and bone and the raider screamed, his yell drowning the gentle swoosh of the arrows that had been aimed at the elf and now found nothing but snow.
A sharp burst of pain shot through Elrohir as he rolled and regained his footing in one swift motion, and he swayed. When a hand found his shoulder, he instantly knew who it was. Despite the fight that still raged around them, he smiled. Eyes never leaving the battle, he said: "Hannon-le, thalion-nin." /Thank you, my hero./
There was no response and the comforting hand fell away. Startled, Elrohir turned to find his brother slowly sinking to his knees. Blood already collected around Elladan in the snow, but his eyes were fixed on Elrohir as he breathed: "Berio dân-cin hi, im altortho..." /Watch your back now, I cannot.../ The elder elf's gazed flickered away from his brother, alarm gathering in it, and Elrohir took his sword with both hands and rammed it backwards without turning, the gurgle behind him telling him that he had found his aim.
It hardly mattered.
He could see the massive gash in Elladan chest, bleeding freely, but he could also feel their enemies approaching.
The smell of death drew them to his brother - the assumption of weakness to him.
Elrohir allowed a bitter smile to grace his lips as he knelt to gently brush his fingertips over his brother's closing eyelids. "Im berithon dân-cin a dân-nin." /I will protect your back and mine./ The younger twin continued to kneel as his senses fanned out, sharpening when they found the crunch of boots on snow, the snarl of bloodlust, the smell of sweat. Without his eyes he could see them, their grins at his apparent surrender.
A memory flickered past him of a band of orcs surrounding him as his hands desperately pressed down on Elladan´s unmoving body.
Now, history would repeat itself for these raiders, and they would not even know it. Now, it would not need rangers to cut down his enemies. They were all his to kill.
When he felt the air move with the swing of a sword aiming for his neck, his still frame suddenly burst into movement.
An arm fell, severed from its body, yet the hand still clutching its sword. Elrohir felt a warm spray hit his face when he turned and brought his blade up to meet another man's stomach as the human stumbled back in surprise, dropping his weapon. Never stopping the force of his thrust, the elf pushed back the gurgling raider to meet a third who only partially blocked his blow.
They had lowered their weapons in the face of what they thought was his weakness.
Fools.
The remaining raiders of the group that had attacked him fell back a few steps, forming a circle around the two elves. Elrohir could see fear in their eyes and it fuelled the fire in his heart.
"Meet the Ravens", he snarled, barely recognizing his own voice, "and prepare to die."
-
Erestor felt an iron grip clutch his heart, and he pushed his horse harder even though the faithful beast already breathed heavily beneath him. The snowfall had lessened and then died away completely, allowing a cold clarity to settle over the plain.
Only the cold wind remained, and it carried the sounds of death across the glittering ground. As light began to pool at the horizon in front of them, it fell upon the small group of houses by the frozen creek. Darkly, the bulks of the buildings stood against the moving shadows among them, and the screams and yells rose into a wave of destruction.
"Ovras, gyth lanthir!" /So many, a waterfall of enemies/
The startled cry of the warrior next to him voiced Erestor´s thoughts. So many indeed. Too many for mere raiders looting the countryside. But this was not the time for contemplation.
Raising his voice and his sword alike, the adviser spoke up, and none who heard him now would have recognized his voice. Lord Elrond would have, as he had known Erestor´s early days, but the warriors listened in surprise to the fiery pledge.
"Like a waterfall, you say? We come with the cold from the north. Our swords shall burn like ice as we turn our foes into glass that will shatter beneath our blows. Water, you say? Once frozen, it ceases resistance. Be the ice-wind, my friends, and we shall be victorious."
"Heleg sûl!" /Ice-wind/
The warriors took up the cry, and as they closed in on the village, even their steeds seemed to take heart and draw upon the last remainders of their strength. Many a raider, too engaged in the battle at hand, was pushed aside and crushed beneath flying hooves as the fresh wave of elves joined the battle.
Erestor´s sword sang in his grip when it first arched down to meet the enemy. Long it had been since it had last been used, and even though there was no hesitation in the elf´s thrusts, he mourned the joy that raced through his heart. Death was no cause for such thrill, and his gentle soul raged against the lust it felt whenever the blade bit and the enemy sank to the ground.
Ice-wind, he reminded himself. Had he not told his warriors to become a freezing breeze from the north to shatter their foes?
From the corner of his eye, Erestor saw an archer raise himself from the roof he was hiding on, training his arrow at the newly arrived warriors. With a swift flick of the left wrist, Erestor threw the dagger he had been holding and steeled himself when he found his mark and the man dropped his bow, grabbing his pierced throat.
Ice-wind. Erestor allowed the word to reach his heart and his breathing eased as his feelings grew numb, shutting out the joy he despised so much.
Once inside of the village, Erestor reined in his horse. Blood dripped off his sword, but he barely remembered those he had slain. His mind had already raced ahead to the ones he meant to find. As he gazed around now, he saw his warriors come to the aid of elves in need, and he could almost feel the turn of the tide. Raiders yelled at each other, asking for guidance yet obviously reluctant to leave even in the face of the strong force they now found themselves against.
Dead bodies littered the ground, most of them human, but by far not all.
To his left, a tall elf disengaged himself from a fierce battle for the door of what looked like a barn and waved, catching Erestor´s attention.
"Im trevedithon crom!" /I will go left/ Without waiting for a reply, Glorfindel hurried away. Erestor could feel the same fears and immediately turned right. They had to find the twins.
It was less his keen instinct than the startled cries of other elves that drew the advisor towards a scene of utter devastation.
Backed against the wall of a shed, one of the twins stood over the crumbled frame of the other, sword in hand. Even though Erestor had known both from birth, it was impossible to tell who was still standing, for blood splattered the younger elf´s body and features. Strands of his dark hair clung wetly to his face as he stared to the ground, unseeing.
Around him, bodies of raiders lay dead. None still stirred, yet the elf´s tense posture did not ease. A small group of elves had gathered around the twins. One of the warriors clutched his bleeding arm as he turned to the advisor.
"Lord Erestor! We tried to help but he attacked us."
Feeling the approach of another, he was not surprised to hear Glorfindel´s voice. "By the Valar, I should have known."
"Who ever does?" Erestor replied quietly. "Who can predict when a wild beast will break free? It was not your fault."
There was silence, and then the Balrog Slayer answered in a whisper. "Aye, my friend. I could feel the young one´s plight but had I left that barn, the last villagers left alive would have been slain. I could not help the twins."
"Not then." Erestor´s voice was calm. "But now."
Behind them they could hear a horn blow, and the shouts of the raiders turned urgent. "They are trying to retreat", Glorfindel said and turned to the warriors before them. "Aid the others, make sure few foes get away and then secure the village. Leave the twins to us."
Reluctantly, the Rivendell fighters complied, walking away with tears in their hearts even though victory was at hand.
-
The trees were groaning. Legolas stood upon the small clearing and gazed around in wonder. Until a moment ago he had enjoyed the peaceful silence of Greenwood, yet now the troubling sound had disturbed his reverie.
Walking up to one of the trees, he placed his hand on the rough bark and asked: "What troubles you, ancient friend?"
The tree moved beneath his touch and a dark voice answered him: "Blood and thorn, danger and cold, little elf. Beware the cold."
Up in the highest branches, a raven started to croak. Its voice was loud, momentarily drowning the persistent groaning that still floated through the forest. When Legolas looked up, he saw that the bird was joined by another of his kind. The second one moved awkwardly, and little drops of blood fell to the forest ground. The first raven cocked his black head and croaked again. Its eyes stared into the world with white blindness.
Suddenly, there, the groaning grew louder and then Legolas was ripped from the glade to stare into a dying fire.
For a few heartbeats, confusion clouded his judgement and he thought himself home in the palace, but then the large dog that rested next to his bed gave yet another loud snore and settled the elf back into the reality of his hardship.
Looking down, he saw that the human boy was less disturbed by the noise than he had been, for the child slept on, one hand curled around a fist-full of dark fur. The small face looked starkly white and fragile, showing none of the powerful energy the boy emanated when awake. Slightly worried, Legolas reached down with one hand to touch the forehead beneath the unruly curls. To his relief, he found the skin cool to the touch.
It was only then that he realized this movement should have hurt him. Surprised, he raised his tunic to inspect his injuries and found that the blood on the bandages was dry. He gingerly probed the area around the wound and found it sensitive, but not painful. He was glad that he was alone at the moment for he knew his surprise showed on his face. He would not have expected humans to have such healing powers.
Humans.
Suddenly, the experiences of the night before came back to him and he felt sting of anger towards the child. How easily they could have walked into a trap! Less gently this time, Legolas reached down again and gave the boy a little pad, nudging him awake.
The child crunched up his face unhappily as he resisted the waking world, but after a second nudge the grey eyes finally opened and gazed at Legolas with a look of genuine wonder.
"Did I not tell you that I would stay away from humans?" the elf said sternly. "I only meant to offer you the warmth of a human house, for they hardly hurt a young one of their own kind. I would have preferred to stay outside, and you knew that..."
He stopped, taken aback when the boy´s eyes filled with tears. Unsure what to do, Legolas simply remained silent. He did not think that his lecture had been half as stern as it might have been, certainly not stern enough to cause tears. But then again, he had no experience at all with human children.
The tears rolled down the child´s cheek and his lower lip quivered in misery. He looked up at the elf above him, and when he received no reaction, he began to cry in earnest.
With a sigh, Legolas gave in to his instincts and stroked the boy´s hair. "What is it, little one? Surely, Lord Elrond has told you your mistakes before?"
The boy tried to answer but it took him several goes before he managed to smuggle words past his sobs. "I - I drea- dreamed! And - and so it was not real, the first one. It wa-was a lie. Your ho-horse lied!"
Not understanding a single word, Legolas shook his head and began to rub the little boy´s back in an attempt to soothe him. The child repeated what he had said whenever his breath allowed him, and suddenly, the elf understood. The comments the boy had made before. The elfling´s story he himself had heard so often in his younger years. The human boy had been so calm because he had considered himself part of an adventure that would dissolve when the sun rose.
Now a new day had broken, and the child was still away from home. Whatever strength had held his believe together up to this point had vanished with the morning light.
Before he even knew it, and ignoring the pain in his wound, Legolas slid out of the bed to pull the child into a hug. He could feel the small body tremble when the boy's only defence against the horrors he had seen crumbled. Confrontation with death could cause far older creatures than this one serious damage.
"Who says that one cannot dream while dreaming?" the elf reasoned gently. "Dream-horses never bring short dreams, little one, or easy ones. They choose children who are strong and take them into an adventure that might seem to last for days. And still, when the child awakes, only one night has passed. Such is the way of dream-horses."
The boy calmed slightly. Among hick-ups and sniffles, he replied: "But why has the dream-horse not returned to me? It left me alone!"
There was much of the child´s old strength in the accusation and Legolas smiled. "There is little adventure to be had under a protector´s wing, don´t you think? Be assured that the dream-horse is watching over you."
After a moment of consideration, the boy asked: "And has it sent you to help me? And Beakon?" He pointed at the dog.
The elf chuckled. "That might very well be so, child."
"But that would mean that you are not real!" The boy turned lightly in Legolas´ arms and poked him.
The elf´s chuckled turned into a low laugh. "Oh, I am real. But I can still be in your dream, little one."
Before the child could make a reply, voices could be heard outside of the hut.
Legolas tensed and looked around the room for his weapons. He vaguely recognized one of the voices and recalled a bearded man standing in the snow last night, the dog at his side. Their saviour said: "Gone he is, and with our coats! His path does not lead to your village, either. You better explain that to me, Marhen. Where did you send your son?"
The voice that answered was cold with hatred. "Why would he run away in the middle of a cold night? I´m telling you, Bowder, it was that stinking elf you took in! Nothing but trouble they are, and I will get rid of this one now!"
Heavy steps came closer, followed by angry shouts. As Beakon rose and stepped towards the door with a growl, Legolas fought to his feet and retrieved his bow.
He should have known.
The houses of humans were never safe.
TBC
Review responses :
elvingirl3737 : Sure, Estel will borrow you the coat hands over coat I hope you don´t mind the dog-hair on it :) Glad you like the last chapter!
Aranna Undomiel: Hehe, yes, snow can cloud one´s vision - but seriously, I hope some things cleared up for you now ;-)
Me: Ooops - another reader in trouble looks thoughtful Again, I hope this chapter was easier to follow for you.
NightShadow131: Thanks! Hehe, you are very inventive with words yourself! I hope you enjoyed this chapter also - it even has an awake Legolas in it, lol.
Mellaithwen: Hehe, yes, a high price indeed - and your spelling is just fine :)
Red Tigress: Hehe, so you like fights? That´s good to know ;-) There will be more...
HarryEstel: Yes, they do have a rough time. I can be so mean at times - bad me! But I´m happy you enjoy it :)
Thank you all!