Chapter 19

Grunts and noise woke Daenerys, and she opened her eyes to see that the sun had not yet risen. The darkness was still thick, and only far to the east had the black started to turn into a pallid blue-grey. She tried to shift in her bounds, feeling sore from the prolonged immobilization against the tree-trunk, but her shoulder bumped into Thranduil's. He glanced at her and managed a small smile. "You are awake", he murmured.

"What is all this noise?" she wondered.

"The orcs are getting ready to depart", he answered. "Have you rested?"

She sighed. "A little, I think. Have you not slept at all?"

He shook his head. "No."

"And is there still no sign of the elves?"

"None."

Her spirits fell then, for she had hoped that Thranduil's people would soon discover them, but it was not to be. And there had been no sign of Rhaegal either. Daenerys hoped he had returned to the Halls, and tried to push all ill thoughts from her mind. She dreaded to think that something terrible might have befallen the green dragon.

"What have I missed while I slept?" she asked on.

"Nothing, really. The orcs ate some more, took turns watching us and patrolling the area, fought a little amongst themselves… and that was all", the Elvenking replied listlessly. "It will not be long before we leave now… We must not lose hope."

He said as much, but Daenerys could see that Thranduil felt no less dejected than she did. He wore a permanent frown on his face now, and his hair was matted with blood from the cut across his forehead. The small ringlets of blood had dried to a dark crimson on his skin, and he looked grim and tired. Taking a look at her own self, she seemed in no better condition. Her dress was dry now, but it was soiled and torn. There was caked mud on her feet, the wound on her thigh reminded her of its presence with occasional stabbing pain, and her hair was a mess of tangles.

Then the tall orc, who was the leader, came along with nigh a score of others. He barked some orders to them in their foul tongue, and the orcs hurried and cut the ropes that bound the captives to the tree. They pushed them to their feet and forced them to walk to the cart. Upon it they were bound again back-to-back, and just as the first rays of the autumn sun hit the ground did the unsightly procession begin on its journey south.

Hours passed as they went, and Thranduil and Daenerys kept mostly quiet, as the orc with the whip walked beside the cart and gave them surly looks and glowers whenever they made to whisper to each other, toying with the lash in his hands, seemingly eager to use it on them once more. But the leader had commanded them not to damage the captives, and so the orc could not act much upon his vile wishes.

"They are taking us through paths unknown", said Thranduil to Daenerys at some point, after they had marched deep into the forest.

"How do you know?" she asked, for all the trees looked the same to her, tall and dark and ominously looming above them, casting long shadows and rustling with the whispers in the wind.

"I know my kingdom well enough", he responded. "We seldom tread beyond the elven paths, unless we are on the hunt of foul creatures."

She peered around her again. The ground had turned rockier, and it was uneven. Uphill they went and then downhill, through crags and large clusters of rocks. Small streams ran here and there, and there was humidity in the air. The vegetation was so dense here that the light barely reached them. There is no sight more foreboding of evil than a dark forest in a sunny morn, she mused, and a shudder coursed through her limbs. Thranduil felt her shiver, as she was bound against him, and worried. "Daenerys, are you alright? Are you cold?"

"No, I am not cold. But this place chills me to the bone", she sighed.

"The farther south they take us, the worse this feeling is going to become… Prepare yourself and steel your heart against it, for we do not yet know what awaits us in the gloomy glades of Dol Guldur", he told her in a low voice.

Images then of a place bleak and dreary formed in her mind. How much worse? She inwardly wondered. Her eyes fell to the shadows of the trees then, and a realization came upon her. "We have turned east."

"Yes… I know not through which route they take us, but I suspect they wish to avoid the elven scouts", the King said.

Daenerys looked again up to the thick foliage that hid the sky and the sun from their sight. In such a vast, dark and misty forest, even a dragon flying above will find much trouble spotting us, she thought despondently. But if I heard a dragon's cry, if only I heard one such cry…

"Halt! We are here!" a fat orc growled to those behind him, and the captives looked at him with question.

They slowed their pace then and came around some huge rocks. Behind them appeared a large orc camp, built behind the protection of a rocky wall to the north. Around it there were wooden palisades and spikes, while watchtowers stood to the east, south and west. The orc company approached the gates, and their kind came to meet them. After a few words had been exchanged, they went through the gate. As the cart passed below the wooden posts and planks that served as doorway, Thranduil could see there were archers posted on every watchtower. Inside, the orc camp looked like a labyrinth of tents, platforms, ladders and spikes. Orcs went here and there carrying weapons and weapon racks, pieces of armor, as well as pots and barrels. The noise was awfully loud, an offense to the ear, and the air was filled with their growls and grunts, and the sound of the hammer upon the anvil in the orcish forges. There was a foul stench in the air, which made Daenerys' stomach churn in disgust. They had not eaten anything the previous day, but what hunger she felt was soon gone, when she was forced to breathe that putrid air.

They were led uphill, and orcs laughed and spat at them as they passed them by, wielding their spears and clubs in the air, proclaiming the capture of the Elvenking a great victory for the orcs. And, one might say, they were not wrong. Thranduil fumed with rage and gritted his teeth at the insults thrown at him, but he knew there was nothing he could do now, and it would be unwise to provoke their fate. For, he surely was precious to them, a tool to bargain with, but Daenerys was not… and he feared that the orcs would think to use her against him, should he try to defy them.

More palisades they passed, and the place was lit with torches bound upon poles. There were also a few large fires burning, and black smoke rose in the air, mixing with the stench of the orcs and making the air suffocating for the two captives. At last they came in front of a wide tent, and from inside it came five large orcs, similar looking to the one leading the raiding party. Behind them a sixth orc followed, and he was the tallest and most gruesome of them all. He held a scepter, the head of which was a goat's skull, and bones hang from it, bound to leather strips.

"What have you brought me?" bellowed he, as he shoved the others aside and walked to the cart.

"Look for yourself", grunted the raid leader.

Some lesser orcs dragged the captives from the cart and threw them down before their leader's boots. He thrust his scepter under Thranduil's chin, forcing his head up. The Elvenking lifted his face, his eyes narrowing into slits, and looked at the orc with disgust and devoid of fear. Then the orc's look became one of surprise and utter glee. "Can it be the elf-king? Ha ha!" he roistered, lifting the goat skull up for all orcs to see, and soon everyone cheered and shouted with their leader. Thranduil hated every single moment of it. "The elf-king kneels!" the orc went on, and brought his scepter hard upon Thranduil's shoulder, forcing him to drop forward and brace himself on his hands. He grimaced in pain, but not a sound came through his parched lips. Daenerys glanced at him worriedly, but was wiser than to voice her mind.

"And who is that?" the leader then asked, as he grabbed Daenerys by the hair. "Another of the elf-folk?"

"No. She is human", answered the raid leader.

"A human? Pft. Useless", the tall orc responded with disdain, and pushed her down. "But maybe she will be tasty if we cook her with onions! Ha ha!"

"Man-flesh!" shouted one.

"It tastes better than elf-flesh!" yelled another.

"Man-flesh is my favorite! I want her with onions and carrots, to boil slow and sweet!" joined in a third.

The orcs burst in boisterous laughter then, and Thranduil clenched his fists in anger. Daenerys looked at the orcs, who planned her demise in the cooking pot, and seethed with wrath. You will pay for this, she promised them, and her eyes burned with inner fire.

"Shut up all of you, morons!" growled their leader. "It was said in jest. They are not to be harmed, or the Masters will end us all! Touch them and I will kill you before they do, scum!" he threatened them.

The orcs grumbled then, but nobody spoke against their leader. They dispersed one by one, and the leader ordered his captains to bring the captives inside the large tent. They bound them to the central pole afterwards, and stood to attention.

"Have you fed them anything?" the leader asked.

"We gave them bread but they spat at it", grunted the raid captain.

"Give them food and water. This girl looks half-dead. Ha ha!" laughed the great orc. Then he went to Daenerys. "And who are you, girl?" he asked her, grasping her chin and inspecting her face closely. "Strange eyes have you. Tell me your name!" he bellowed.

Daenerys' brow furrowed in anger. "I am Daenerys Stormborn of House Targaryen, and I swear to you, you will pay for this", she spoke back at him.

The orc laughed at her words, but then slapped her hard across the face. She felt dizziness claiming her and blood filling her mouth. She coughed a few times, and blood came through. Her lip had been torn, and blood trickled through and stained her dress.

"Do not touch her!" yelled the Elvenking.

The orc turned to him with suspicious eyes. "What is she to you, elf?" When Thranduil frowned but did not reply, the orc said, "Ah, so you care for the girl. Now this is news! The cold and cruel elf-king cares for someone. Ha ha!"

The orc's rude behavior vexed Thranduil greatly, but it was to be expected. The enmity between his people and the orcs was great, and they resented him for decimating their numbers with every given chance. Time and again they had tried to storm his Halls, only to result in utter failure. But now he was the one who had failed and was humiliated, and he could clearly see that the orcs enjoyed every minute of it.

"No laughter shall you have left when I slice your throat", hissed the Elvenking.

"Slice my throat? With what? Your sharp words? Ha ha!"

"Release me and you shall find out."

"Release you? Pft. I am no fool. You will stay in your bonds until the Masters return to Dol Guldur", the leader said.

Return? So, they are gone… to Mordor, perhaps? The King wondered. "Where are your Masters gone? Did the Dark Lord summon them?" he asked the orc, hoping he would be stupid enough to part with valuable information.

"The flames of war are upon you, elf-king! Our Masters do the bidding of the One!" the orc answered, proud to serve Sauron as it was.

So they have been summoned to Mordor indeed… We may still have hope to be rescued before we are taken to Dol Guldur.

Then another orc stepped into the tent, carrying two cups and two bowls for the prisoners. "Dinnertime!" he announced.

"How are we supposed to eat with our hands tied?" Daenerys protested.

The leader huffed in annoyance. "Cut their bonds! Hands only!" he commanded. "And take the girl away from the elf! Bind them separately! I do not want them conspiring during the night!"

As soon as she was free of her tethers and fed a spoonful of hideous broth and a gulp of water was forced down her throat, Daenerys was half-dragged to the northernmost pole of the tent and was bound there. Thranduil was bound to the southernmost pole, and the orc leader looked satisfied.

"Guard them!" he hissed to his servants, and then he went to the innermost chamber of the tent, followed by his captains.

"No more talking now!" grunted the orc guard, and he went to stand by the entrance.

Daenerys looked to where the Elvenking was bound. She could barely make out his figure in the darkness. Then she glanced outside, through the open entrance of the tent. It was utterly dark. Night has fallen, she thought. What will they do with us tomorrow? She was quite certain that Thranduil would be kept alive at any cost, but as for herself… what value held she to the orcs? And they were not the brightest creatures. Some foolish one might think to carve a piece of meat off of her bones. She could not take her chances.

"Hey!" she called to the orc. He looked at her grumpily. "Can you light me a fire? It is so cold in here, and your Masters would not want us to die from cold", she began.

What is she doing? Thranduil wondered, but preferred to keep his mouth shut.

The orc grunted, but piled a few logs at her feet. Then he grabbed the nearest torch and thrust it into the wood. They were dry and soon caught fire. As the flames licked at the wood and grew, Daenerys could feel the heat emanating from the fire reaching her toes, soothing them. "Good", she murmured, leaning against the pole and closing her eyes.

The guard saw that she was still and surmised she must be sleeping. Then he turned indifferently and went back to his post. The plans of the Masters meant little to him, but he would not question their will to keep the captives alive. If she needed warmth, then a small fire was no harm.

A few hours went by, and silence fell in the camp. Most of the orcs went to sleep, and a few remained awake to guard the rest. The guard in the main tent had slouched down by the entrance and was snoring soundly. From the inner compartment loud snores could also be heard. As soon as she was certain that everyone was asleep, Daenerys opened her eyes and glanced at the fire before her. It burned brightly, and its warmth filled her heart with courage. If only it works…

She carefully extended her feet then, reaching into the flames up to her ankles. The heat surrounded her, and the rope around her ankles took fire. Soon it withered and disintegrated into ash. Thranduil noticed her movement, and was astonished. "Daenerys!" he whispered. "What are you doing?"

"Hush, and trust me", she whispered back at him. She reached a little further then, straining against her bonds. The torn hem of her dress met the flames, and soon enough they licked it upwards, burning it off of her body inch by inch. But then the flames reached her back, and made contact with the wooden pole of the tent. Soon enough it caught fire too, and so did the rope that held her bound to it. Thranduil stared in awe, as Daenerys became a living torch, and everything burned slowly, until at last she was free of all bonds. Carefully she rose from the ground, and looked as the fire reached the top of the pole and touched the sheet of the tent. It went ablaze at once, and she watched the fire expand in fascination.

"Daenerys!" Thranduil hissed again.

She walked to him silent as a shadow. "I must set you free", she murmured.

"Our weapons are over there, on the rack by the entrance. Can you see them?"

She looked to where he told her, and quickly approached the rack and retrieved her dagger. But then the whooshing of the burning sheets and the loud cracking of the flames woke the orc guard, and he opened his eyes to see everything burning around him, and the human captive standing naked in front of him.

"Thank you for the fire", Daenerys told him. He made to shriek, but she silenced him by cutting his throat with her dagger. The orc gurgled and choked in his blood, and his body fell limply to the ground. Then she grasped the King's sword as well, and quickly cut his bonds. Thranduil leapt to his feet and took his sword in his hand. They exchanged a quick glance, and the fire of freedom and revenge burned in their eyes. "Now for the leaders", she said with determination.

The burning tent was noticed by the orcs who stood guard outside, and soon commotion arose in the camp. But Daenerys grasped a torch and stepped around the tent, touching its flaming head across the sheet as she went. Shouts of pain and horror she heard then from the second chamber, as the Elvenking had rushed in and felled orc after orc. Soon a ring of fire was lit, and she came to the entrance of the adjoining chamber. Thranduil was now fighting the last one of the captains, together with the gruesome orc leader. Daenerys walked inside and thrust the torch to a wooden pole, setting it ablaze.

"What is she doing? Witch!" yelled the leader frantically. But then the blazing sheet of the roof of the tent broke and collapsed, spreading the flames everywhere. Thranduil jumped to the side, agile as a cat, but the orc captain was clumsy, and was buried under the debris. Daenerys set fire to the remaining poles that held the large tent erect. "Witch! Witch!" yelled the leader, who was still trying to stand his ground against Thranduil. But the Elvenking was the better swordsman, and soon he cut a deep slash across the orc's belly. It dropped to its knees, spitting black blood now, as Daenerys walked to him, naked and unburnt through the flames.

"I promised you would pay", she whispered in a cold voice, thrusting the torch to his neck. She watched unfazed as he burned and shrieked in agony, taking pleasure in his death.

Thranduil beside her gripped her elbow. "We must go", he urged her. He cut through the sheet of the tent with his sword and leapt through, with Daenerys after him.

By the time the great tent was burnt to the ground, the orc camp was roused. The orcs ran frantically, gathering their weapons and looking for their captains. But there was none to put order to chaos, and the orcs were disorganized and unruly. Some rushed to the burnt tent, but Thranduil waited for them there, and dispatched them one by one, deadly in his blows. Daenerys picked up pieces of burning wood and used them as torches to set the palisades around the tent on fire, while the Elvenking staved off the orc attack. The light wind that blew helped the flames spread quickly, and soon more spikes and posts caught fire. The orcs cowered at the sight of the fire, and sought for water to put them out. But she continued with her work, stepping through the flames like a goddess of fire, and setting ablaze structure after structure, while the King fought close behind her, protecting her as she turned the orc camp into a burning inferno.

But then some orcs were clever enough to pick up their bows and climb to the platforms. One that was close sought for Daenerys through the flames and smoke, and aimed his arrow at her. Thranduil saw him just as he was ready to fire, and his face twisted in agony, and he shouted, "Daenerys! Watch out!"

She turned just in time to see the orc archer, perched atop a platform that still stood undamaged, as he loosened an arrow against her. She made to crouch, but the arrow lodged itself in her left shoulder. Searing pain caused her to drop to her knees, but by then Thranduil was beside her, and shielding her from the archer. As the orc readied himself for another shot, the Elvenking grabbed Daenerys' dagger from her hand and threw it forcefully against the orc. The arrow flew astray, as the dagger embedded itself in the orc's head, and he fell forward from the platform and onto the ground.

Thranduil turned to Daenerys anxiously. "Daenerys! You are hurt! Stay still!"

She gasped for breath. "We must fight…"

He glanced hurriedly around them. Orcs were approaching them from the west, running like mad amidst the flames. "We shall not die today", he hissed, as he rose, sword in hand, and renewed his attack against the orcs. Like a storm he was, and none managed to reach Daenerys, where she crouched behind him. But then another archer came, and after two shots that met no particular target, the third arrow found Thranduil just above the knee. He groaned, but did not allow for his rhythm to fail, and slew orc after orc. The archer loaded again, and was trying to get a clear shot through the crowd and the smoke, when a horn was sounded in the distance.

"Legolas!" Thranduil breathed.

The orcs heard the elven horn as well, and became even more panicked and disorganized. But then the blast of the horn was accompanied by another sound, and it was a loud roar from high up in the sky, deep and rumbling like cracking thunder. And just as dawn began to break, the shadow of wide wings covered the orcish camp, as the green dragon flew down from the clouds.

"Rhaegal!" cried Daenerys his name, with tears of relief in her eyes.

The dragon balanced himself mid-air, flapping his wings. He extended his long neck and his jaws parted, while his throat was illuminated by the newborn flames. Some orc archers tried to shoot him with arrows, but they only met his hard scales and were deflected. And then the dragon roared again, and rained bright fire upon the orcs, who met their death instantly. He landed then, and his teeth ripped the orcs apart wherever he met them. The elves then stormed the camp, and made quick work of the remaining foes. Wooden walls and palisades collapsed, and Rhaegal saw to burn whatever his mother had not already burnt.

Thranduil drew the arrow from his thigh, and then did the same for Daenerys. She cried in pain and clung to him. "Hush, hush, I will heal this…" he whispered to her, and murmured some healing spell, numbing her pain a little. But he was exhausted, and not a healer by nature, so he could not do much for her.

"Thranduil… it is alright", she rasped. "The elves are here."

"Yes… We are saved", he breathed. "You were so brave… Daenerys… what you did… You saved us", he whispered, as he held her face and looked at her intensely.

But her sight was bleary, and she shuddered. "Thranduil… I am cold…"

He made to cover her naked form with his cloak then, torn and filthy though it was, but then he noticed some blackening of her skin around the wound. The veins were visible and like black streams, and the odor was foul. "Poison!" he hissed in dismay, and repeated the healing spell a few times, trying to slow the course of the poison.

When he knew he had done all he could, he tore at his breeches, where the arrow had pierced him, and inspected his own wound. It looked somewhat irritated, but nothing like Daenerys' wound. But I am an elf, and she is human. They cannot resist poison as we do. "I must take you to the healers at once!"

She coughed and rasped, and held his cloak tightly around her. "Thranduil…" she murmured in a barely audible voice.

But then the elves reached them, and Legolas was leading them. "Adar!" he shouted, as he beheld his father. "Are you alright?"

"Daenerys needs a healer immediately!" he said in an imperative tone. "She took a poisoned arrow!"

"What?" The young elf's face looked worried as he saw Daenerys gasping for breath on the ground.

"Legolas! The healers!" the King cried in great urgency.

The Prince then stood and instructed some elves to carry her away from the battleground and treat her with athelas as soon as possible. They lifted her body carefully, and Thranduil made to stand and follow them, but his own wound caused him to grunt and drop to one knee.

"Father! You are injured, too!"

"Not as badly as she is. Help me walk out of here, Legolas", he breathed.

The elven force left then, after they had razed the orc camp to the ground. And Rhaegal took to the skies again, and was lost from their sight.