::: Chapter 4 ::: Hold Your Head Up, Movin' On

I found a good use for the sheet, in case you were wondering.

Turns out the Orc Packs were even closer to Imladris than was ever portrayed in any of the books and movies. That being said, I'm still glad we didn't have Nazgul after us or something. That would suck. Even more than our present situation. I wonder if I could defeat a Nuzgul? I mean, I still know I'm a man, but my present bodily condition says otherwise so, who knows? Anything's possible, I suppose.

Along those lines, I wonder who I'll get to save. To be true to classic Mary Sue form, I need to save or help out one of the Fellowship. Though I suppose there could be a minor character in distress waiting for me... meh. I'm pretty sure my main love interest is supposed to be Legolas here... hey wait a minute, if I'm a Mary Sue does that mean there's an author up there dictating my life choices at their whim? That's not cool, bro!

But the thought has merit. I'll have to put serious consideration into this. If it's true... well. We'll see. For now, Turdblossom in the Sky has decided to throw a challenge at me, as I mentioned earlier. (And boy do I love that insult. Thanks Star-Lord.)

Said challenge comes in the form of a hungry—I hope that's all it is—Orc Pack who seem to have put us on their menu. Speaking of which, in the LoTR movies, the orcs mentioned menus, which makes me wonder... menus... bistros... in Mordor? Point being, there is a lot we don't know about Orcs.

Orcs like the ones presently attacking us. Right. That's a thing. They'd first come upon us just as the mountain pass to the glittering city came into view. Legolas spurred his horse, and it took off like a bat out of hell (not fun, just so you know. Excruciating, actually).

At which point my Loreal-Paris commercial worthy companion decided it would be a brilliant idea to take out his bow, turn around, and shoot the buggers. In order to do this, he had the presence of mind—or lack there-of—to give me the reigns. News flash: horses hate me. Coincidentally, considering my new tag.

The moment the reigns were in my hands, and not those of the considerably more competent elf behind me, the demon—I'm sorry, I meant horse, rebelled.

His undoubtedly long and meticulously planned rebellion occurred in the form of stopping. Suddenly and dramatically. It was only by sheer luck that I managed to stay on. Poor Leggy was a goner. Right over the head of the horse, and myself, and straight to the ground. In a very painful looking manner.

Ouch for him, but I had other things to worry about, as the horse then decided to take off, in a hurry to get anywhere but there, leaving his rider to face the music, as it were. Did I mention I was still on it? Right. I was still on it, so I went with.

It took me about three minutes and I don't know how many acres to slow the beast. When he finally came to a complete stop, I hauled my aching bum off his very spiny back, with a whole lot of pain involved for all parties, and moved to stand before him.

See I'd come to a realization while fleeing. That being that the Fellowship cannot survive without Legolas, no matter what I do, so he has to get to Imladris. And oh no, I think my crowning Mary Sue glory is approaching, and I've barely been here twelve hours.

That in mind, I planted my self, all my petit, blond bed-headed, barely patched, sheet wrapped fury right in front of the demon creature's nose, with it in my mind to come to an understanding with the beast, no matter the cost.

My strategy: "You," I pointed at him, "don't like me. And that's fine." Staring the thing straight in the eyes was harder than expected, because I hadn't accounted for his not being on the front of his face, but I like to think I managed well enough. "I don't like you either." I got snort for that. "And don't think that's gonna matter either, dipstick. I haven't been here long enough to develop anything close to a relationship, it's barely even an acquaintanceship right now, actually, but I do know one thing. That elf you dumped, he's going to help save the world. So I'm going to drag myself back up on you, and you are going to take me back to him, and help. Comprende?"

The horse chuffed at me, but he didn't bolt. I took that as affirmative. After multiple embarrassing attempts, which I refuse to go into detail over, I sort of kind of settled myself of his back. And then we were off.

I'd like to say I had some modicum of control over him this time, but unfortunately, I can't. It was just as much of a wild, disastrous terror fest as it had been the first time, only now going in the opposite direction. By the time we came careening into the battle, as much as fifteen, now six orcs versus one elf could be called that, I had cobbled together the start of a plan.

I know, it's very impressive and all—the start of a plan, that is. Trust me, the execution was even more so.

Having detangled my sheet from where it was wrapped around my body, I scrunched it into a loose rope and, grabbing one end, pulled the rest of it around and doubled it in my hand, so I had a loose three foot long noose shape, with the top ends clenched in my fist, hanging next to the horse. I could only pray that my mount understood the plan.

Legolas was surrounded when we got there, and had already taken out a goodly number of orcs. Which was stupidly impressive, but whatever (Yondu is the One). Evidently, judging by the surprised and reasonably terrified looks on their faces, those particular orcs had not been expecting a very determined, very naked she-human trying to ride them down on a monster horse when they planned today's meal. Well, sucks to be them. They should have come up with a better plan. Because no one expects the Spanish Inqui—sorry, got a bit distracted there.

Anyway, there were two of them standing conveniently in a row on my side of Legolas, so I nudged my demon steed in that direction. As he charged by them, I swung my sheet noose down to catch the first one, then the second, in it's loop, and twisted my hand downward, leaning down and holding on tight to the horse so the weight of two orcs being dragged along the ground didn't pull me off.

Legolas took the time I gave him to prove smarter than I initially expected. Instead of standing there gaping for several moments like the orcs, he only gaped for one moment, and got back into the fight in the next. Putting an arrow through the two orcs I was dragging, he jumped on another and stuck a dagger through its neck, blinding the fourth with the spray of black blood, and cutting it open from shoulder to hip as it staggered about.

Then there were two. In a fit of madness I will deny until kingdom come, I started humming 'Five Green and Speckled Frogs,' only skipped to the two frogs verse. Luckily I don't think Leggy heard. The horse gave me a strange look though. I wonder if equine dams tell their children nursery rhymes.

While I was busy contemplating the question of sentience, Legolas put another knife (where do they all come from?!) through the fifth orc's chest, and shot the last one in the head.

Well, I thought to myself, that was anticlimactic. So much for crowing glory. I'll have to work harder if I want any sort of good rating. Oh no, I've started to accept my new reality. This can't be good.

At which point I noticed Leggy dearest's searing blush and the averted eyes. It was around that time when I remembered my current state of undress.

"Not a word," I said to the elf, hurrying to dismount and fetch my poor, bedraggled sheet from when his arrow had pinned it to the orc bodies. "Not a word."

a/n: guess who's back. back again. it's me.