There and Back Again
Hey everyone! I'm back (see, I can post regularly lol)!!! I didn't get any reviews last time, but I'll let it slide because I've posted that chapter about 3 seperate times.
Anyway, this chapter should be mostly new to anyone who's reading this series. I hope you like it!
Oh, and I won't be in Rapid City next Sunday because OUR FOOTBALL TEAM IS GOING TO STATE! GO STM CAVALIERS!!!! LoL. I'll post on either Thursday or Friday this week. Pray that we win the South Dakota state title!
Hmmmmm....I don't think there's anything else....other than REVIEW PEOPLES!! Please? It just motivates me to write better and faster ;-).
All right, I think that's it for this posting, so bon voyage!
Chapter Two: Unexpected Company
The Road goes ever on and on
Down from the door where it began.
Now far ahead the Road has gone,
And I must follow, if I can,
Pursuing it with weary feet,
Until it joins some larger way,
Where many paths and errands meet.
And whither then? I cannot say.
J.R.R. Tolkien
Two weeks had passed since Estel had parted with the dwarves on the outskirts of Hobbiton, and he hadn't laid down to rest since then, hastily trying to reach Rivendell before Yen, a word that meant "year" in Quenya. Because of the infinite lifespan of the eldar, Yen occurred only once every 144 years, meaning that this would be his first and only chance to attend one. It was not something he was planning to miss.
Elladan and Elrohir had told him many stories of their past Yens. For the most part, they involved dance-filled mornings and ale-filled evenings, but Elrohir had not let it go unheard that Elladan had frequently been so saturated with wine that he had slurred the nightly blessing of Imladris, which was the last ritual of Yen. Elladan, outraged that this last bit of information had been revealed, deemed it right to remind Elrohir of the time he had been sleepwalking and asked Glorfindel for a dance. Estel grinned inwardly. Who knew what would happen this Yen?
Estel tore himself from his thoughts and looked at the sky above him. It was far past dusk, and yet the full moon shone brightly and lit his path through the valley. The grass blew back and forth in the wind, not unlike waves in a ocean. All was asleep, save Estel and a few crickets, which delighted the knoll with their peaceful music. It was the perfect place to rest after his arduous journey.
Pulling off his pack, Estel unrolled his blanket and lay on his back, gazing at the stars. Gil-Estel, or High-Hope, shone brightly despite the full moon. He closed his eyes, remembering the time when his ada had told him the story of the star, many years before in Estel's eyes. It was the story of Earendil, father of Elrond, and the fabled silmaril.
As Estel drifted slowly off to sleep, he sang the old tune softly to the silent valley.
...And over Middle-earth he passed
And heard at last the weeping sore
Of women and of elven-maids
In Elder Days, in years of yore.
But on him mighty doom was laid,
Till moon should fade, an orbed star
To pass, and tarry never more
On Hither Shores where mortals are;
Forever still a herald on
An errand that should never rest
To bear his shining lamp afar,
The Flammifer of Westernesse.
And with that, Estel's sighed deeply, and knew no more.
o-o-o
Zughtuk gazed with his abnormally large eyes through the black of night. He barred his sharp, disfigured teeth with malicious satisfaction as the sounds of chirping crickets grew silent with his presence. The night did not hinder his abilities to track their elusive prey, for he was a black creature who thrived on nothingness and despair.
They had been following the cloaked figure from the shadows since nightfall, counting on the fact that it would have to stop to rest for the night soon. True to their hope, it had, and fortunately for them, it was much more fatigued that it usually would have been. It would make everything go much easier.
Signaling to his companions, he advanced forward, surprisingly silent for one of his race. He crept through the tall grass, parting it with his gnarled fingers every few moments. When he was only a few short paces from the sleeping man, he raised a tiny tube to his mouth and placed an even tinier dart inside of it. His companions followed in suit, and all aimed their darts at the dozing man. The seconds ticked by, marked only by the occasional chirp of a brave cricket.
Then suddenly, all five of the group simultaneously fired.
The man jerked abruptly in his sleep, but did not wake. Now barely breathing, his muscles relaxed, and Zughtuk's smile became even wider.
"Nuteg, pick him up! We must get back. Follow me." The party of orcs rumbled away quickly, no longer concerned with stealth. Within seconds, they had disappeared into the night.
High above, Gil-Estel shone on the abandoned pack of Estel.
o-o-o
The earth shook beneath him, up and down in a jerky, drunken manner that seemed to stretch on and on until he became used to the pattern. He could not feel his hands, his feet, nay, not even the lower half of his body. All that he registered was the deep, pounding sensation that throbbed through his head every time his heart beat. His hair hung in long, dirty tendrils around his face, some even sticking where they had mixed with sweat and grime. He didn't dare open his eyes, fearing an unknown force that some part of him remembered had to do with his horrible headache. He heard the sound of footsteps in the distance, but paid them no heed. He had once again returned to darkness.
The second time he awoke, nothing had changed, save that the deep pounding in his head had reduced itself to a dull throbbing. He took a sharp breath quickly through his nose, and was rewarded with the revolting stench of what seemed like dead flesh rolled in mud. He coughed, and suddenly felt a sharp jab directed at his ribs, knocking the breath out of him. Deprived of the much-needed oxygen, he departed once more.
o-o-o
The air around him was cold, taking his breath away and sending involuntary shivers up his spine. Sharp rocks dug into his already deeply bruised back. He shifted, trying desperately to find a comfortable spot that didn't exist. Though Estel was awake, he didn't dare open his eyes, fearing the bright sunlight that would only serve to intensify his once again pounding headache. Even if he had wanted to, he doubted he would be able to look at the outside world. Estel sniffed the air tentatively. It had the mixed stench of rotting flesh and charred wood, enough to make his stomach lurch. He could hear hushed voices all around him, deep and guttural mutterings that struck a cord of fear in his heart.
He didn't know where he was. Though it was the obvious answer, his lethargic mind had just managed to grasp the concept. He didn't know where he was. He'd never been many places other than the surrounding area of Rivendell in his brief eighteen years of life. There were countless things that he had yet to learn, but he had never expected to gain the knowledge in such a sudden way. He had listened many times to the tales that Elladan and Elrohir had related about their mother, Celebrian. He remembered the horror that it had instilled in his heart, but compared to how he felt at the moment it had been a mere moment of anxiety.
He knew the identity of his captors. It all came together in a rush; the rotting smell of flesh, the deep, animal-like voices, the shaking earth, the jab in the ribs. He didn't need to know the name of his captors to know that he would most likely not survive this adventure. Their race was enough.
Orcs.
TBC...
Well, I hope you liked that chapter! It's kind of short compared to the next one, but it was needed. So on probably Thursday the next chapter will be up. But there is 1 condition....I want at least five reviews!! I'm serious peeps!
Anyway, stay tuned for the next episode: Bleeding Ears.
Well, I have to go now. But before I do, I'd like to thank all of those who reviewed my story before I took it down. Blushes You guys are AWESOME! Hope you're still reading this ;-).
Hasta luego.
CzechChicka