Disclaimer: Oh honestly, after 13 (now fourteen) chapters, must I really say that the characters don't belong to me? Except for Nethidal… Oh, and the evil radag-gor… but not the ones who matter most. (cough –Legolas- the twins - Thranduil - Elrond - cough) :)
AN: Well, I'm sure you all know by heart my reasons for this chappy being so inexcusably late. Take your pick: school. Being grounded. Computer problems. Or writer's block. The reason this time happens to be the last two. I'm really sorry, but it couldn't have been avoided… I don't think… lol!
Ok… I figure one more long chappy in which everything hits the ceiling and an epilogue. The good news… I now have a laptop that's my very own so I don't have to worry about my mother's always being on the fricken computer. It's brand-new too, so no more computer problems. SO all you guys have to fear is my deadly writer's block… If any of you try and roast me over the fire for my being so late, I will drop my writer's block on you from a very high place… Even though I totally deserve it… enjoy!
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So great was the noise of the approaching creatures that Legolas and the twins were forced to cover their sensitive ears to keep from going deaf. Elladan shifted about, wondering whether or not it was worth it to lower his hands from his ears so he could better grip his knife. He decided against losing his hearing, and clapped his hands to his ears all the tighter.
They waited there for what seemed like hours, the twins huddled together on the floor and Legolas braced against the walls above them. In reality, they waited no more than several seconds before the first orc passed the side passage. They tensed, expecting at any moment to feel a rush of air as the creature doubled back and entered their hiding place, expecting cold steel to pierce their skin.
They felt the rush of air all right, although it was more like a continuous whoosh. But no orcan weapons slipped into their flesh, no orcan cries of triumph reached their ears. The lead orc continued its headlong pursuit into the dark tunnels. The dumb beast apparently had no idea that its quarry was no longer in front of it.
Elladan heard Legolas shift uneasily as if wondering whether or not this was just a ploy of the orcs. Several moments passed, orcs now pouring past the tiny passage opening. There were so many of them! Nearly half a minute passed as they huddled in their little refuge, and the steady stream of smelly creatures showed no signs of slowing.
Legolas shifted again, wincing as a particularly sharp rock dug inconveniently into his back. He did not understand. Orcs were nasty little hole-dwellers by nature, and therefore their eyes were much more adapted to the dark than the elves. But even the ugly creatures could not see in the deep black that he and his friends were currently trapped in. Not a single orc carried a torch; none of them had any light source whatsoever! They were traveling at a high rate of speed for being blind.
When the prince thought more thoroughly on this matter, he came to the conclusion that it didn't matter how the orcs were able to tell where they were going. They were obviously missing the side passage, and if one of them had a light, surely they would have stopped to search the elves' hiding place. So why was he worrying? If it came to blows, (Valar, he prayed that it would not come to blows) the orcs would be at as much disadvantage as they were. So as long as they kept hidden… why worry about the lack of blasted light?
At the same time, both Elladan and Elrohir were praying for a spark of light, any light. It didn't occur to them that perhaps being in the dark was a good thing. Elrohir had not had the benefit of seeing the torchlight when Legolas arrived, and he was beginning to tremble again. He thought that, if he could maybe see some stray lamplight, he would be able to bear the terrible pressure increasing upon his mind.
And Elladan was just concerned about his little brother. They were so cramped that he could feel every single shudder that shook Elrohir's body. He silently maneuvered one arm around his brother's narrow shoulders. Trusting in Legolas to warn them if one of the orcs found their hiding place, he allowed his head to rest against the rough stone.
Had it really only been yesterday that they had been out on the archery fields, laughing as Legolas came racing as fast as he could toward them, only to be brought down onto the thick grass by wriggling little puppies?
It didn't seem possible.
Yes, in the past twenty-four hours, things had been viciously and horribly changed. Elladan tried to slow his train of thought before he remembered their exact situation. He wasn't quite fast enough. They were trapped underground in the deep tunnels beneath Mirkwood in a tiny little side passage with what sounded like thousands of orcs passing barely four feet away. There was also the matter of whatever that atrocious screeching sound was.
He stiffened. Yes, there it was again. Before it had been hidden by the clamor of the orcs, but now it was painfully obvious. That meant only one thing. Whatever it was… was getting closer.
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Legolas instinctively glanced down as he felt the slight tug on his leg, and mentally kicked himself. Of course he wouldn't see whoever it was. It was pitch black for goodness sakes! What if he had lost his balance and fell on top of them? The orcs would have heard it for sure and they would have come in and skewered them and… He mentally kicked himself again. This would not do. Being paranoid would not solve his problems. Being paranoid was reserved for people who did not want to end up in trouble.
That ship had sailed long ago. They were definitely in trouble now, and being paranoid wouldn't help them one bit.
So. Instead of mentally kicking himself one last time for good measure, he focused his attention on the problem at hand. What had the twin wanted? He listened to the clamor of orcs, alert for any grunt of surprise from an orc who had discovered their hiding place. The racket made it very difficult to concentrate. He was already on edge, and his mind simply did not want to focus on anything but their perilous situation. That awful screeching sound did not help any either. One moment!
Legolas smiled into the dark, sure that he had pinpointed whatever it was that the twin had wanted him to. The smile rapidly disappeared as he realized just what the screeching meant.
Despite his fright when he had inadvertently stumbled into these tunnels when he was young, they had sparked his natural curiosity. After he was rescued, he spent several days in Mirkwood's library researching anything he could find about the tunnels beneath the catacombs. And what he found had chilled him to the bone.
He had learned of the deadly creature that lurked beneath Mirkwood's palace and how it came to reside there. He learned about its strange powers and its high intolerance of the light. And the more that he read, the more confused he got. If all it took to harm the creature was the light from a torch, or even a candle, why had the warriors of Mirkwood not marched to get rid of the foul thing? Why had they let it live down in the tunnels where it was a constant threat? Admittedly, it was relatively safe, since the radag-gor could not advance past the catacombs where the torches were perpetually lit. However, having a creature of that nature living beneath a palace was trouble waiting to happen.
Actually, Legolas reminded himself ruefully, that was what they said about him and no one had tried to drive him out yet.
The screeches drew closer. Mirkwood's prince shuddered as the sound grated against his ears. Without doubt, he knew that the noise was being made by the radag-gor, but nothing in his research had mentioned the beast's capability for producing such a racket. In fact, every thing he had read pointed to the radag-gor being a creature of silence, stealth, and even grace.
So what had happened?
Elladan gave a muffled gasp as his brother suddenly broke free from his embrace and scrambled forward, apparently intent on rushing out into the mass of orcs.
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The king of Mirkwood scuttled along the deep corridors of the catacombs, sword held tightly in one hand, a torch grasped in the other. The shrieks and cries of orcs had reached elven ears long ago, which had only served to intensify Thranduil and Elrond's need to find their children. But they were certainly not foolish enough to go a-hunting all by themselves. Oh no.
That's why they had brought nearly half of Mirkwood's army.
Elrond was directly behind Thranduil, face set in a grim, determined line. And behind him came the warriors. Each was wearing a light, supple coat of armor over their forest green tunics, and yet, despite the metal, they managed to move in perfect silence. Each had a short sword or long knife drawn, the ideal weapons for fighting in an enclosed space.
As the orcs drew closer, the elves began to spread out. They halted in a large chamber, the deepest part of the catacombs. They quickly lighted the long-disused torches on the walls and assembled in near perfect formation. They had chosen this area for one main reason: the cavern was large enough to hold nearly all of their warriors. The orcs, on the other hand, would be forced through a bottleneck of sorts. The passage from the catacombs into the deeper, unlit tunnels was only broad enough for perhaps eight orcs to pass at a time.
The creatures would be cut down before they had a chance to cry out.
During the tense wait for the first of the orcs to show their ugly faces, Thranduil sent out whispered commands to the elves. They were to handle this battle as quickly and as quietly as they could, and then they were to get into the tunnels and flush out any of the creatures that had sought to flee.
Of course, both the king and Elrond were extraordinarily firm that no one was to go anywhere without a torch.
The shouts and screams of the orcs and goblins grew closer, and the warriors tightened their grips on their knives and short swords. Not only were their homes threatened if the creatures managed to break free from the tunnels, but Elladan, Elrohir, and Legolas were in trouble as well. Both of those unnerving thoughts served only to fuel their determination.
As the first orcs piled through the tunnel opening, they were killed instantly. Even as their bodies fell to the floor, more came to take their places.
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It took sometime before the rest of the orc and goblin masses realized that the screams from the front of the line were cries of pain, anger, and surprise. So caught up in the battle lust, it took even longer for the realization of the elven attack to make its way through their ugly thick skulls. If their minds had not been controlled by the deadly radag-gor, the entire troop may have been killed.
Pity. Even with the radag-gor's instructions to fall back, regroup, and attack, the whole ordeal only served to let the orcs live a little longer.
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The elves remained calm, managing to make the battle look easy. In fact, as time wore on, things began to get difficult. The orcs eventually realized they were being attacked, and fell back to better prepare before entering the large cavern. They drew their crude scimitars and jagged-edged knives. And being the vicious, cold, un-caring creatures they were, they rectified their lack of shields in an ugly way. The nearest orcs were grabbed and thrust into the cavern before them.
They progressed rather well this way, letting their comrade's bodies take the brunt of the deadly elven hits. They almost made their way past the center of the cavern. The elves quickly discerned what was happening and struck hard. But the damage had been done. The warriors could no longer keep their full attention on the tunnel. Their attention was divided.
What had before been an easily controlled assassination of sorts now became more like a scene from a tavern where the occupants had had too many drinks. Well, the elves managed to retain some form of gracefulness, but the overall effect was that of a bar-room brawl.
Taking advantage of the sudden confusion, the orcs and goblins surged forwards. The cavern had been crowded before, now it became so that it was near impossible to get a decent blow in. The torchlight waved and flickered, the flames blown back and forth by all the activity. Back and forth, seemingly imitating the struggle that was taking place. The orcs, already at an advantage because of their numbers, had little trouble dealing with the poor light they were being given.
Of course, elven eyes were nothing to laugh at either, but the flickering light cast by the torches confused more than one warrior. It was difficult indeed to fight when one had to constantly double check to make sure one was not stabbing a comrade. And it was absolutely infuriating to have their keen eyesight play second fiddle to the awful orcs' and goblins'.
Elrond stood back-to-back with Thranduil, expertly picking off any orcs who ventured too near. The elven lord hadn't expected this many of the foul beings, and he was rather surprised at the sheer numbers. Surprised and furious. And afraid. His sons were down in those tunnels, and the orcs were standing between them. That meant only one thing.
The orcs had to die.
Thranduil, meanwhile, was engaged in a vicious fight with a goblin that absolutely refused to die. Thoughts whirled through his mind, even as he parried away a blade that surely would have decapitated him. He had allowed his son to come down here, even knowing what lurked in the deep shadows. As was typical of Mirkwood's royalty line, he completely overlooked the fact that he had tried to stop his son from going. He forgot that Legolas had ignored his orders and had left before things could be settled.
Indeed, instead of focusing on those two things, the king allowed himself to sink into a deep frustration with himself. To Thranduil, not only was it his fault for letting his son search the tunnels, it was his fault for not realizing that Elladan and Elrohir were missing in the first place. He was king and they were his guests after all! He should have kept some sort of tabs on them! Wasn't it part of his responsibility to know where his guests were?
And those were the thoughts of King Thranduil. Twas easy to see where Legolas had gotten his easily-guilt-ridden personality.
Much to Thranduil's surprise, when he came partially out of his guilty funk, he saw that the flow of orcs had begun to peter out. Calling for reinforcements, he snatched a torch from its bracket and he, Elrond, and the rest of the army swung into the passage.
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The elves had to climb over the filthy bodies of many orcs and goblins before they were back on relatively level ground and could easily pursue the fleeing creatures. They paused for breath and to regain their sense of direction. And then, in the silence between their gasping breaths, they heard it. And all knew what it meant.
The screeching set their nerves on edge and the echoes bounced off the walls and through the tunnels, making it difficult to pinpoint the direction it was coming from. They instinctively drew closer together, a small group of them together with a single torch.
The elven cry came mere seconds later.
This wasn't the cry of a fully grown elf who had found a cluster of orcs either. This was a cry of pure terror, a cry torn from the throat of an elf who had not yet reached full maturity. Thranduil and Elrond did not even pause for confirmation; for they were tearing down a tunnel seconds later and the four warriors who accompanied them had to race to keep up.
It was a deadly adrenaline-pumping rush to reach the young elves, one that Thranduil would always remember. The untainted fear for whomever had called out. The fear that they would not reach the elflings in time. The fear that they would arrive just in time to see their children being devoured. The fear…
The torch threw light uncertainly as the wind from their mad rush buffeted it. The elves were so desperate to reach the origin of the cry that they barely noticed, and certainly did not remember that they would need the light to defeat the creature that they were certain they would meet.
They ran, and during their rush, they prayed to the Valar that they would not be too late.
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AN: Hello again it's me. I'm excited to report that I got a great response this time, and wow, look how I repaid you… a months-late update… (cringes) Muchos gracias to CAH, Ceriadara, Alenor Peredhel, Haldir's Heart and Soul, Aranna Undomiel, Aurehen, GundamWingFanatic90, Chrys1786, and Galadriel Kenobi.
You guys all rock, and I'm super sorry (again, still, whatever you want to call it) for the long period of inactivity. Hope you enjoyed, and plz review! (I know you will, if nothing else than to yell at me for taking so long… feel free though, I deserve it!)