Out of Mirkwood
Scribbles-on-Parchment
December 7, 2019
Chapter 22 – Gwador
Hethion saw the other Silvan reach for his bow and knew that his time was running short. He looked back at the young edan in front of him and swung his sword without a moment of hesitation.
Yet just the blade was about to cut the mortal being down, the human collapsed to the ground in a graceless heap. Hethion's sword missed the man's torso entirely, instead leaving a shallow gash across his forearm. Cursing loudly, the Silvan looked down to see Legolas, hand still wrapped around the edan's leg. The prince glanced up at him, blue eyes glazed with pain.
Rage flared through Hethion. How did such a weak elfling manage to thwart his plans every time? How could one eldar cause so much trouble?
Well not for any longer.
The ellon brought his blade around to stab the young prince in the heart, but once again it never hit its mark. There was a loud clang as his blade met with that of the human's. Grey eyes, calm and determined, stared at him. The man looked much different then the scared being he had seen just moments before.
He cares for the elfling, Hethion took a step back and lowered his sword, if that is possible.
The Silvan's eyes narrowed as he looked at the young edan with new respect. Perhaps he could use this to his advantage.
"Who are you?" Estel leveled his sword at eldar's chest.
He had been surprised when the ellon had lowered his blade, yet he was not comforted by this. What was the elf's plan? Surely, he was not about to give up so quickly.
"You would not know me even if I told you for I am no one to everyone."
Estel narrowed his eyes. He felt uneasy. The elf was planning on doing something, he was just not sure what.
Even as the edan tried to decide what to do next, the ellon suddenly lunged forward, his blade meeting with Estel's again. Swords locked in a deadly duel, both males glared at one another. He pushed with all his strength trying to knock his attacker off balance, however, the elder did not move. The man's eyes widened in surprise. That had always worked, even with his brothers.
The Silvan smirked and unexpectedly twisted his blade out of the deadly gridlock, attempting to slash at the edan's exposed legs. Staggering from the sudden loss of resistance against his sword, Estel just managed to sidestep the slash and backed away from the eldar. He needed to focus his mind before the next strike for his opponent was highly skilled and far faster and stronger than he.
However luck was not on the man's side as the elf pressed forward, dealing a series of quick and concise strikes aimed at his arms and torso, not allowing him to take a moment's rest. Estel barely managed to block each of the blows and noted how his attacker seemed to be as calm as if he were out on a walk. The eldar was playing with him, holding back his full force. But why?
Another series of slashes caused the man to stagger back from the force of the blows. However, as quickly as it had come the attack halted and Estel realized his mistake immediately. He had been forced away from Mear, who was now no longer behind him but lying helplessly next to the Silvan.
Hethion grinned as the human's eyes widened, realizing what he had done. Legolas now lay at his feet, trapped in his fevered haze unaware of the danger he was in. Yet the prince had had the clearness of mind to save his friend.
The edan let out a cry of rage and rushed forward to start his attack. The Silvan had predicted this and in one swift movement, he had grabbed Legolas by his hair and hulled him to his feet. The human stopped his advance instantly, Hethion's gazing mockingly at him.
The elfling sagged in his arms as the eldar held the prince tightly to his body. There was a shout and Hethion risked a glance down the hill to see the brown-haired elf running towards him. The sharp point of the arrow pointed directly at him made the Silvan curse. He glanced back at the human, eyes now full of anger,
"Say your goodbyes edan. A pity his adar will not be here to see the light fade from his wretched son's eyes."
Hethion lifted his sword to Legolas's pale throat, relishing the panic and fear that filled the man's eyes as he watched his friend about to be killed. The ellon lowered his head and whispered into the prince's ear.
"Navae-."
But Hethion's farewell was never finished as a jolt of pain cut in his side. His arms suddenly seemed to lose their strength, leaving Legolas to slump forward into the waiting arms of the young man. A moment later the Silvan's legs gave out and he fell to the ground, gasping for breath. His body went numb.
Tamír had watched the ellon battle with Estel, arrow to the string and ready to fly at a moment's notice. Yet the human kept blocking his view of the attacker. The Silvan had been forced to lower his bow. A second later he had taken off running up the hill, jumping gracefully over the dead bodies of the yrch. He had to get to Estel.
As he drew closer and saw the eldar grab Maer, he had felt his heart drop. The ellon was using the young Sinda as a shield.
Tamír could tell Estel's inner battle, for the man could not risk attacking for fear of hurting or killing Maer. It was up to him to save the elfling.
The Silvan came to a sudden stop and pulled his bow taught, aiming carefully. If the attacker turned just a little, he could get a clear shot.
"Estel!" Elrohir's voice cut through the air, but Tamír did not move. He would only have one shot at this and could not risk being distracted.
The eldar lifted his blade up to Maer's neck and whispered something in his delicately pointed ear, however, the Sinda did not seem to know what was going on and remained slumped against his captor, eyes half-closed.
And it was then that Tamír saw his shot. He let the arrow fly with a silent prayer to the Valar that it would hit its mark.
It did not.
Instead, the Silvan watched in horror as his arrow brushed the strange elf's arm, its intended target, and buried itself deep in the eldar's side.
How had he missed? He never missed a shot. Not since before his majority when he was first learning to use a bow.
Tamír let fly a string of curses as he realized what he had just done. If the ellon died, how could he forgive himself for that? He would be labeled a kinslayer.
The attacker released his grip on Maer, who slumped into Estel's waiting arms, before collapsing to the ground. Tamír ran the last couple of lengths to where the elf lay, frantically hoping that he had not killed the eldar.
"Manen le?" He asked Estel as he crouched beside the wounded attacker.
"Im maer dan e edregol cerch."
Tamír glanced at the edan and saw the still form of Maer laying as pale as death in the human's arms.
"Your ada will be here soon," the Silvan looked back at the eldar he had shot, his mind still in a fog at what had just happened.
The wounded ellon lay on his back, gasping for air, eyes wide with shock.
"Goheno nin. It was not my intention to wound you so."
Hethion stared at the vast empty sky, gasping for breath. He had never imagined that the Silvan would dare shoot him while he had Legolas in his grasp. Yet he had guessed wrong.
He had never been shot before. The pain was less then he had imagined, but Hethion knew that it would be fatal. Already he could feel blood entering his lungs where the arrow had punctured it. He would be dead in a matter of minutes, there was nothing that could save him now.
A worried face came into his rapidly greying vision. It was that of the one who had shot him. The Silvan elf. Hethion closed his eyes. His fate was to be killed by one of his own people.
"Goheno nin."
He forced his eyes open at the softly spoken Sindarin words. The concerned brown eyes of the ellon looked down at him and his heart faltered. He knew that face. It was Tamír. The accursed elf who had abandoned his people in the battle that had almost wiped out most of the Greenwood. Anger filled his heart even as he gasped for breath, choking on the liquid in his lungs.
"Gen fuion," as he said these words, blood sprayed from Hethion's lips landing on the startled face of the elf.
"Who are you? How do you know me?"
The Silvan laughed, a horrible gurgling sound, "I did not think you would forget me that quickly gwador, but I would expect nothing less from you."
"Hethion?" the word came out in a hoarse whisper, "But how? You were killed. I watched you die."
His vision fading quickly the dying ellon grinned, his teeth stained red with blood, "I did say that you would be the death of me. How right I was."
The ellon took in a choked breath, his voice coming out in a whisper, "I will say hello to Narril for you, though I doubt you remember her either."
His strength fading Hethion turned his head to the side to see Legolas still in the human's arms.
"You could not save her Tamír. Nor can you save him. My mission is complete."
The eldar's vision faded and he knew his time had come. He forced the last of the breath from is body in a faint whisper,
"Navaer."
The sight that greeted Elrond as he came upon the small group, was one that he would never forget. He saw his son holding onto the golden-haired elf, who looked as white as sheet and Tamír knelt by an ellon who lay dead upon the grass. His mellon's hands were still pressed tightly around an arrow protruding from the elf's side. Droplets of bright red blood coated the side of the Silvan's face, but he did not seem to realize anything that went on around him. He just continued to stare at the dead elf.
The elf lord instructed Elladan and Elrohir to see to their brother and the ill elfling, while he went to see Tamír.
"Mellon nín," he put a hand gently on the ellon's back, "Look at me."
When Tamír did not respond, the Noldo knelt next to him. He gently took the Silvan's face in his hands and turned it toward him. Tears sparkled in the brown depth of the elf's eyes, testifying to the inner turmoil he was in.
"I killed him."
The voice that came from his friend's lips was raw with emotion and tore at Elrond's heart. He had seen the eldar like this only one time before, when he had been told the fate of his people.
The elf lord's face filled with sorrow. He remembered the first time he had killed one of his fellow elves. The ellon had become corrupted by experimenting with dark magic and the light of the eldar had all but left him. Seeing no way to heal him, he had been forced to do the unthinkable and kill the being, now just a shell of his former self. For years he had felt unimaginable grief and regret at what he had done.
"There was nothing else you could have done mellon nín. You were protecting my son. Do not let your heart be grieved by such regret."
"I missed."
Elrond frowned, "What do you mean?"
Tamír looked straight at the elf lord, "I missed my target. I never intended to kill him."
"No one is perfect. There is no shame in that. For it was never in your heart to kill him. Yet, with his death you saved him from the evil corrupting him. He is at peace now."
Elrond leaned forward and gently closed the eyes of the dead Silvan.
"I knew him," the Noldor froze at Tamír's words, "I just killed one of my closest friends."
Elvish Translations:
mellon nín – my friend
echil – human
adar – father
navaer – farewell
orch – orc
mear – golden
ada - dad
yrch – orcs
manen le – are you alright
im maer dan e edregol cerch – I am fine, but he is very ill
goheno nin – forgive me
gen fuion – you disgust me
gwador – sworn brother
mellon - friend