Chapter Ten
Legolas suddenly stiffened and shaded his eyes with a thin hand. "I have found them," he said in a somewhat strangled voice. Gimli and Éowyn looked, but could not see clearly through the distance, sun, and dust the filled the space between them.
"What is it?" asked Gimli, tightening his grip on his axe's haft.
"They have…caused a commotion," Legolas said delicately. "I shall endeavor to attract their attention without garnering that of others less desirable."
"And how do you plan to do that, exactly?" Gimli grumbled, but the Elf was already rising smoothly to his feet on top of the dirt-coated roof. He cupped his hands around his mouth and drew in a deep breath…
…………
Elladan paused so suddenly that Mallor ran into him. The Elf absently steadied the man, but his attention was elsewhere. Aragorn and Rhìmbron turned to see what the problem was—along with a good portion of the citizens on the street surrounding them. The Elf ignored them all, his hooded face a study of concentration.
"Elladan—" Aragorn started to say, but he held up a hand to silence the man. He tilted his head as if he were listening to something, then met his foster-brother's eyes.
"Legolas," he said in explanation. "Come."
"You found them?" Aragorn asked, but the Elf was already dashing away. The three men could do nothing but race after him, confusion on their faces.
After a few minutes of a devastating sprint that all but knocked their cloaks from their backs with the speed they ran at, Elladan turned, not even winded. "We are near; I know not exactly where they are, but Legolas's song came from here…"
Looking over his shoulder to speak to the men, he did not look around the corner before turning it. As such, he did not see the company of guards marching by. He stopped abruptly, and the Men regarded the hood-less Elf with as much shock as he stared at them. The Elf recovered first and, flipping his hood once more over his face, turned to run back the way he had come, but his companions were not so light on their feet, and the guards came to their senses quickly.
They did not know of the sweep now being done in another part of the city for the "four intruder Elves," but they knew full well that no Elf was supposed to be in Ostad. That he had moved to flee from them only cemented in their minds the knowledge that he—and his friends—needed to be taken captive immediately. Drawing their weapons—a mix of swords, staves, clubs, and knives—they advanced on the outnumbered companions, who likewise drew their blades.
The swiftness with which the swords cleared their hilts, and the glimmer of the powerful and deadly blades, along with the grim fearlessness in the four faces, gave the soldiers pause. But, seeing how they outnumbered them by six, they soon recovered their determination to their duty.
Judging that Elladan would be the weakest of the four—for the people of Ostad are long-accustomed to gauging strength by appearance, and the slim Elf did not look as formidable to them as the sturdier Rangers—he was their first target. They soon discovered their mistake as his thin silvery blade twisted around the metal-banded club of his attacker. When the sturdy club fell in four smooth-cut sections, neatly sliced through the wooden parts, there was another pause, and the guards started to think that they perhaps ought to have sent for help before engaging their quarry. But there were still more of them than the intruders, and the former club-holder was now angered. Drawing a short dagger from his belt, he lunged at the Elf, who neatly stepped aside. The man's lunge carried him into the conveniently extended sword of Mallor, and as he fell to the ground the battle was joined in earnest.
The Rangers flanked their king, despite his scowls, determined to allow no harm to come to him. Elladan, having had more experience fighting side by side with the man, as well as more confidence in his abilities—having done a fair part of Aragorn's training himself—stood slightly apart, blade flashing faster than mortal eyes could follow. The clash of steel on steel echoed through the ragged streets, and onlookers gathered at a safe distance, whispering among themselves.
Not all the onlookers were content to merely watch, however. A light voice broke easily through the sounds of fighting. "Aragorn! Elladan!" Legolas called, "garo le baur o thaed?"
"Not at all," replied Aragorn casually, sparing a glance at the slim blonde figure leaning down from a low rooftop. "But to prevent you from suffering boredom, I suppose I shall allow you to shoot one or two—providing Mallor and Rhìmbron do not object?" The Rangers shook their heads, studiously concentrating on their battles and ignoring their king's frivolity. "Elladan?"
Elladan smiled mischievously as he spoke. "I suppose I can be persuaded. After all, I would offer the young prince any chance to surpass Gimli's latest score."
Legolas cocked an eyebrow. "You are hardly ancient yourself, Lord of Rivendell. And where is your Elvish pride, that you so swell an already over-large Dwarven head within his hearing?"
Elladan scowled at his kinsman. He had not known that the Dwarf was there to overhear his mocking words, but the deep chuckle was unmistakable. "Come, then, prince, and put my grandmother's gift to use," he said shortly. Legolas laughed merrily, and soon the beautiful bow of the Galadhrim was singing.
The guards, surprised and unprepared for this new attack, fell back in disarray. They were now greatly reduced in number, and saw no option but retreating from these strange, dangerous intruders—and they did so with all due haste. Mallor and Rhìmbron pursued them until the end of the alley they were in, but seeing that they showed no signs of regrouping, the Rangers stopped and stood guard at the mouth of the street. Legolas lightly jumped down from the ceiling and embraced Aragorn and Elladan in a quick greeting. He turned around in time to help Éowyn swing down, but knew better than to offer assistance to Gimli. The Dwarf landed in the street with a large explosion of dust and a loud thud. He rose with a grumble, but put up with Aragorn's hug with only a slight mutter of exasperation.
"Come," the king said, patting the Dwarf's shoulder, "we should be off. I have only the vaguest plan of how to escape this city, and it relied heavily on our not being discovered. Now that we have been, I have no doubt that it will be doubly difficult. Nonetheless, I would not wait here for more to arrive."
Nodding in agreement, the others moved off—flanking the king and Éowyn, who both put up with it with patient sighs and rolled eyes—weapons held out and at the ready. They had to be on their guard, for they would find no friends in this city…
…………
There were, however, plenty of enemies awaiting them. They managed to avoid getting drawn into any large fights, favoring a hit-and-run strategy, for they were all fleet of feet and had decided that for once honor could bear with running. It was not a choice that sat well in their hearts, but they all knew that seven alone could not overthrow an entire city, and it was far better to return with force.
"My lord," Éowyn breathed as she ran next to the king, "what of Faramir?"
Although she did her best to speak neutrally, she could not hide the worry in her eyes from Aragorn's keen sight. He smiled slightly to reassure her as best he could. "We have not the forces to rescue him now, with the city alerted to our presence as it is. I would see us safely out before making any specific plans, yet my thoughts are to send word back to Gondor of the aid we need while a few of us attempt to re-enter more subtly and spy out where he is held, and perhaps learn why."
Éowyn raised an eyebrow. "And should I assume that one of the messengers will be myself?"
"You are the best rider here, my lady," Aragorn replied tactfully.
The gaze she turned on the king informed him that she was fully aware that her riding skills had little to do with the reason for sending her, and while she appreciated his attempt she could see right through it. Aragorn replied with a very innocent expression before remembering that she had seen such a look cross his face often enough for it to have lost all effectiveness. Éowyn sighed, but returned her attention to running; keeping up with Elves and Rangers left little time or breath to waste in speech.
Unless, of course, one was an Elf. Then one seemed to have no need to conserve air for running. Legolas and Elladan had kept up a hushed conversation in hurried Sindarin the entire time. Their voices were too low for Aragorn to be able to catch it all, and he had paid little attention to their words, choosing instead to watch and listen to the city around them. But as their voices raised and their tones became more insistent, he turned his ears towards their speech.
"I tell you, Legolas, we ought to run towards the Old City; they will never expect us to go over their precious Inner Wall, and will not look for us there."
"And yet if we hide there, we only find ourselves with two walls between us and freedom."
"Yet if we vanish from their minds, their watch will lessen, and it will be far easier to slip out unnoticed. At the least, we should find somewhere to wait for nightfall; there is much less of a chance of us being spotted in an escape when their eyes are dimmed by darkness. It is only a few hours off. And while I have no fear of fighting them, I also have no wish to slaughter Men needlessly."
"Nor do I, my friend, but…" Legolas trailed off a moment, his voice coated with enough uncertainty that it made the hairs on the back of Aragorn's neck stand on end nervously. "I would not see our white lady spend time here needlessly."
"You worry too much, little prince," Elladan replied confidently. "We will let no harm befall her, and the lady is well capable of caring for herself."
"It is not her swordsmanship that worries me," Legolas said in a low voice.
The curiosity in Elladan's voice was palpable. "Then what is it that you fear?"
"It is not my secret to share," Legolas replied firmly.
Their conversation paused then, and Aragorn knew that Elladan was doing the same thing he was: reviewing everything that Éowyn had done or said since they had met her. He was also studying Legolas's actions towards her; he did not know if Gimli was privy to the secret, and so did not wish to color his observation incorrectly and so he focused solely on the Elf. Frustratingly, Aragorn could not recall anything having been different in either's manner.
"I would appreciate more clarification, as I am sure would Elladan," Aragorn at last spoke to the blond Elf in front of him.
Legolas glanced at him over his shoulder, but Aragorn could not read the expression in his eyes. "I am sorry, hir nin," he whispered in Westron, "but as I have said, it is a secret that is not mine to tell."
Out of the corner of his eye, Aragorn saw Éowyn's face turn towards the Elf, and her gaze sharpened on him. Legolas gave no sign of being aware that the two humans were staring at him, and turned his full attention very obviously towards the city around them.
"I do not think you will get anything more from him, my brother," Elladan said with a slight, grudging smile. "The little prince can be quite stubborn."
Elladan said with a slight, grudging smile.Legolas spared a glare for the other Elf's comment, but refused to respond. Aragorn sighed; Elladan was right, and he knew that he would receive no further words from the archer, whatever motivation he attempted to use to pry them from his tightly-pressed lips.
Giving up, Aragorn decided that he would simply have to wait to learn the answer when Legolas felt the time was right…or when Éowyn herself spoke, for it seemed to be a secret shared with her.
…………
Gimli had not understood the quiet speech in Sindarin, but he had heard Legolas's final words in the Common Tongue. Picking up his pace, he left Mallor and Rhìmbron to guard their flanks and caught up with Legolas.
"What is this secret of which you speak?" he asked the Elf in a low voice as he ran beside him.
Legolas shook his head and spoke sternly. "The secret is not mine, Master Dwarf; no more of it will I say."
"Then you should not have spoken of it in the first place," Gimli replied grumpily.
Legolas glared down at the Dwarf. "I do not believe that I spoke anything to you. If you will listen to the conversations of others, inevitably you will be annoyed by the lack of explanation for what you hear," he said primly.
Gimli raised his eyebrows in mock shock. "And now we have one of the Wise among us, to offer counsel to those of us whose thoughts run lesser paths."
Elladan snorted quietly, then both the Elves stiffened, their hands tightening reflexively on their weapons. "Aragorn," the older of the two ancient youths whispered, "there is a sound of metal jingling."
"Harnesses and weapons, from the tone," Legolas added and Elladan nodded his agreement.
"How many?" Aragorn asked quietly, gesturing for them all to stop.
The two Elves exchanged a glance before shrugging. "It is too many and too distant yet to tell," Elladan informed him, "but it is not the small groups of guards we have encountered before. I would think—"
He was interrupted as an arrow nearly pierced him. Twisting with uncanny reflexes and agility, he avoided the projectile by a hairsbreadth, but it was soon followed by a second.
The Companions dove for the sides of the street, taking what shelter they could between the shabby constructs that lined it haphazardly.
"Where is it coming from?" Aragorn asked, trying to peek around the corner of his chosen building without becoming a target.
Legolas leaned far out into the street, ignorant of the danger. "I believe there are three of them atop the high building to the right of the corner," he said calmly as the archers turned their sights on him. Gimli growled something uncomplimentary about Elves and hauled his friend back before he became a pincushion. They both turned to scold the other—Legolas because the shot he had been about to line up was ruined; Gimli for how foolish the Elf had been. Mallor, who was next to them, interrupted the argument.
"My lords—look!" He pointed to something over Aragorn's head, but he could not see through the building he was leaning against.
"What is it?" the king hissed to his companions on the other side of the street. He could see Elladan out of the corner of his eye, craning his neck in an effort to see over the dilapidated walls behind them. Éowyn hissed for the Elf to be careful he didn't get shot, and Elladan sourly gave up.
"There are men climbing onto the roofs a street over; I do not believe that they will be able to hit us where we stand, but if we attempt to run for the corner—as we must to escape the archers behind us without running into the guards who seem to be coming to head us off from the other direction—we will make wonderful targets," Legolas told them calmly.
Aragorn cursed silently, and thought as quickly as he could. "Can you guess roughly how many are coming towards us?" he asked the Elf at his side.
Elladan frowned. "Legolas," he called, "does it sound to you as if—"
"Ay," the other interrupted, knowing what was about to be asked. "They have indeed split up. I cannot tell precisely what direction they go in now, for the two groups are too close."
"It may even be three," Elladan added. "I cannot be sure, for, as Legolas says, their noises mask each other in these twisting streets."
"I shall find out," Legolas said, and before anyone could move to stop him he had lightly scaled the building behind him. He presented a tempting target in the late afternoon sunlight, but was quick enough that by the time the arrows were flying in his direction he had already leaped nimbly across the narrow street.
Aragorn heard the sound of light feet landing gracefully above his head, for the boards on which the Elf ran were shaky enough that even his light footfalls made them shift enough that the sharp-eared Ranger so close to them could hear the motion. He tried to track Legolas with his ears, but gave up; the arrows were interfering, and as there was no sound of an impact with anything but wood he knew they had all missed the Elf. All he could tell from the arrows was where Legolas had been moments before. Of far more accurate guidance were the furious eyes of the Dwarf across the street. Gimli seemed to be ready to kill the prince with his glare if the arrows did not do the job properly.
After an endless amount of time that was in reality little more than moments, Aragorn heard the return of the light footfalls—and the arrows sounded much closer. He tensed, waiting for everything to go wrong. The archers knew where Legolas was heading; if they shot ahead of the Elf instead of trying to catch him, there was a chance that they would find their target despite his agility.
Then there was a flash of motion and the Elf was tumbling gracefully from the sky. He gave Aragorn a quick half-smile; he had probably heard him tense with apprehension, and was shaking his head at the man's pointless worrying. Then he sprang up, almost before his toes had brushed the ground, and he landed lightly between the startled Ranger and the glowering Dwarf. Arrows stuck quivering in the dust where the prince had been less than a second before.
Legolas was an image of perfect innocence as the mortals glowered at him. Elladan offered a slight grin as he shook his head at the other Elf. As if nothing had happened, Legolas drew himself up and related the information from his scouting trip. "The enemy has split into three groups that I can see." He spoke just loudly enough that the others could hear him above the hiss of arrows. "The largest one is gathering for an ambush along our most probable exit route—may I suggest we not take the straight road?"
Seeing from their glares that the others were in no mood for levity, Legolas quickly continued. "The second group is hurrying to the mouth of the street from where we came; I believe they intend to attempt to drive us into their fellows. There are enough of them that with the archers they will possibly be able to do so…providing their archers have the intelligence to save their arrows for when they have a chance of hitting us," he added disdainfully. Aragorn sighed; trust the prince to focus on poor archery planning when their lives were under threat of arrows that were not nearly as far from their targets as Elven scorn made them out to be.
Legolas spared a moment to sigh at the archers, then continued quickly. "The smallest one is fortifying the little alley to the left, but they are few enough that we ought to be able to scatter them before they fully settle themselves. There are also eight archers gathered to aid in the ambush a street over from us. The ones shooting aimlessly into the dirt now number four." He paused, and his eyes met Aragorn's. "And…it does not look as if the outer walls are to be safely crossed. There are men stationed thickly along it, all of them armed, and watchful within the city rather than without."
The Elf stopped, and everyone looked at Aragorn. He sighed, and decided that his plans of a swift escape were now lost beyond resurrection. "All right," he said quickly, "we'll make for the alley. Gimli and I will lead the charge, followed by Legolas and Éowyn, then Mallor and Rhìmbron, and Elladan will guard the rear." The others nodded and adjusted their grips on their weapons. "Legolas?"
The Elf leaned out around the corner of the building, oblivious to the arrows flying towards his face. He waited a moment, then nodded. "Go," he whispered.
Aragorn and Gimli leapt forward, sprinting towards the wall as all four archers scrambled to notch a new arrow, having just released one. One of their previous shafts caught in Aragorn's cloak, and another grazed the mail on Gimli's shoulder, but there were no injuries—although an arrow from behind came disquietingly close to taking more than a few strands of Aragorn's streaming hair with it. He would have shaken his head at the Elf, but feared that doing so would land him in the path of another shaft, which came but a second later. Only Legolas would risk a shot like that while scrambling through a gauntlet, and the king had no doubt that it had found its mark.
Éowyn and Legolas had been less than a second behind the Dwarf and Man, with Mallor and Rhìmbron right on their heels. The only reason that Elladan did not step on the Rangers' streaming capes as he followed them was the Elvish grace of his nimble steps in avoiding them. They ran the gauntlet almost unscathed; their closest shaves came when one grazed Mallor's arm and Legolas pushed Éowyn out of another's path with a sharp hiss as he twisted to avoid taking it himself. Elladan narrowly escaped one to his throat, but his sword flashed speedily enough to knock it aside.
They dodged out of sight and shot of the archers into the mouth of the narrow alley between two rows of ramshackle wood and cloth buildings, catching the supposed ambushers completely unprepared. Aragorn swung Andúril into the first man, and he collapsed in a blur of red. Gimli's axe moved in a wide arc, smashing into another with enough force that he flew into a rough wooden wall and lay still, cracking himself as much as the thin boards. Another arrow whipped by Aragorn's ear as Legolas shot down a third.
Aragorn heard sword impacts behind him as the others flashed through the ring of men right behind him. They were already running for the end of the alley when they saw that it was a dead end. There was a wall of wood in front of them. Apparently the men had crossed into the small cul-de-sac from an opening between two poorly constructed homes which the companions had already raced past. They would have to turn and fight their way back to it. But why had Legolas not noticed the problem before? It was unlike the Elf to be so lax.
But as Aragorn started to stop and turn, the archer raced past him. He sprang nimbly up the wall and balanced easily on the thin wood. Aragorn almost groaned aloud; the Elf seemed to have forgotten the limitations of mortals.
"Hurry," Legolas was yelling, reaching a hand down for the others. Did the Elf intend to haul them all over the wall? Apparently yes, Aragorn thought with a resigned sigh.
"Éowyn!" he commanded as he turned with the other four to engage the soldiers who had turned and moved to face them. "You are light enough for Legolas to easily lift alone," he added shortly when the woman hesitated. She paused a moment more before running to the wall and leaping as high as she could. Legolas easily caught the woman's arms and swung her up onto the wall. They balanced there a moment, then he swung her over the side. The wall shook slightly with the sudden change of weight, but the Elf seemed unaware of the precariousness of his perch.
Éowyn unsheathed her sword again as soon as she straightened, but there was no enemy here. Only a thin wall separated her from the others, but already they seemed removed from her by the haze of dust that floated through the air of the ragged city. One thin wall, and one slim Elf, who was now shouting for the next person to be dragged from the fight. She took a deep breath, ignoring the dry air, and stared hard at the empty streets. Apparently the threat of battle had driven the inhabitants of the city into their meager dwellings, but they were still there.
She could feel them watching her in fear. The White Lady of Rohan smiled grimly. If they feared one lone, dust-stained woman, they would offer no threat to the legends she traveled with.
That Éowyn herself was a legend in her own right did not cross the woman's mind, but certainly it shone in the cold steel in her hands and the matching glint in her eyes.
Reviewer Responses:
lindahoyland – Why thank you! And yes, that bit about the liege lord actually struck me when I was reading Two Towers while we were studying Beowulf. Suddenly both cultures clicked in my head and they made perfect, complete sense. It was quite cool. I'm glad I managed to get that across. Thanks! And of course, welcome to the story! Glad you like!
Slayer3 – I don't think I even know what's going on anymore! Hee hee. Well, cue the Darth Vader breathing and on with the reviews, I suppose! Dance away, my dear.
Jebb – All I can say is, Legolas is lucky Gimli finally got to use that axe on the soldiers of Ostad, because his golden head was starting to look like a mighty tempting target! ;) As to the rescue party—heh heh heh. What can I say, they came in without a plan for getting out; this is what happens with poor planning!
AM – Ah, those confounding hobbits… ;)
Susan W – Cliffs? Hanging? I see no cliffs, and I have no gallows set up. I know not of what you speak. (Gee, I wonder where Legolas gets his infuriatingness from?) And don't worry, I'm sure that after they tell Elrohir what happened, he'll let Elladan forget about his slip. Eventually. Some day. Like, in the Eighth Age of the world or sometime…if he's feeling generous. As for the city's surprises…mwahaha. Ha. ;) However, as to Faramir…erm, how patient can you be? Because, um, and remember if you kill me he'll never be rescued, our dear captain won't return until this story is at least twice as long as it is now, I'm thinking… Cue innocent whistling and sidling away out of range of projectiles from enraged Faramir-fans…
Laiquendi – Hee hee, now I'm seeing Elladan say that as his hood falls! Oh yes, that Elf and Dwarf, they never stop, do they? Wonder how long it'll be before they drive Aragorn completely batty…
Lil Pippin Padfoot – Ungrounded, yay! Puck…hee hee… Either I mistake your shape and making quite, or else you are that shrewd and knavish sprite called Legolas Thranduilion…now I'm picturing Legolas…hee…sorry, when I think of Puck, I always think of the hairy little hobgoblin from Neil Gaimen's The Sandman and…hee hee hee…more hair than a Dwarf…hee…um…yeah, now I'm getting an Elvish glare…er…I'll stop laughing now. Or at least try to. Heh.
East Coastie – Yay, time! I think I remember what that is…distantly…wait, isn't it that thing that you trade sleep to get? Yeah, I think that's it… Anyway, I'm glad to hear you have some! As to your question, yes, in the movie he gets Narsil, which when it was reforged was re-named as Andúril, Flame of the West. In the book, it was reforged roughly the week before the Fellowship left (Aragorn had been carrying around a scabbard with the pieces in it prior to this, rather than it lying in state in Rivendell) and Aragorn carried it throughout the rest of the story. Elrond never showed up, but rather Elladan and Elrohir, along with a bunch of Dúnedain—the Grey Company—led by Halbarad, and they rode with Aragorn through the Paths of the Dead and came by ship with him, and rather than a sword the brothers brought Arwen's banner she'd embroidered for the King when Aragorn revealed his true identity. Actually, Aragorn wasn't even really the heir to Gondor but rather to Arnor, because the two had split and…um. And once more I manage to go into far more detail than is necessary, woo! Heh. That's the problem with being a detail freak—restraint, restraint, restraint! ;)
That's actually why I have so little time—details and my (lack of) restraint. I could draw really simple, stylized comics, but nooooo I have to put in a million little details and shadows on the clothes and faces and…sigh. Being a detail-freak is time-consuming. At least I try to avoid having to draw backgrounds! I can only imagine how long that would take! Ugh. So yeah, blame my nitpicky nature for the slowness that will be plaguing updates. Oh well, at least it teaches me the value of restraint…even if it's hard to put into practice. ;) Anyway, even if I haven't brought poor Faramir back we've allowed Gimli to work off some frustration, so someone's happy!
Oh, and when Legolas talks in Sindarin up near the beginning of the chapter, he's basically just asking if they need any help, that's all. Probably incorrectly, as I looked it up a while ago and I'm really not that good at Elvish. Oh well! I thought it seemed pretty obvious what the gist of it was. Hope no one's bothered by the lack of an exact translation. And if you see a problem and want to fix it, by all means, go right ahead. See you all next time!