The Road

The surface of the wall was rough under his fingers, cutting into his skin as he ran in the darkness. It seemed endless to him, a twisting, tortuous passage that ran deep within the bowels of the earth. He could hear some distance behind him Ah'med's wheezing breath and the shuffling of the old man's feet. It spurred him on for the heat seemed to press down on him, a solid mass of stagnant air that stifled him. Thus, he stopped often, not because he did not know the way but because despair threatened to swamp him. He could smell the sour scent of his own body in the stale air he could smell the sickly sweet sweat of Ak'tun on his skin. Why was he running? What place was there to go? He could never return to Rivendell, not without his brother, not carrying such shame in his heart. The wastelands then, but it would swallow him whole, bleach him dry, turn him into nothing more than dust. He could not hope to exist out there. He was nearly naked, alone and hurting, better to stop, give up, die here lost and forgotten. But each time he thought this he would see his brother's eyes, the look of pain on his face as he fell to the ground the knife deep in his side. The memory kept him moving.

The passage spilled into a wide cavern without warning and he stumbled, going down on his knees as suddenly there was nowhere left to run. Solid rock beneath his fingers, solid rock all around. They were trapped like rodents in a hole.

"No," the word was pulled out of him as he sank slowly to the ground.

His heart pounded dangerously in his chest but Ah'med pushed himself forward.

"Almost there, almost there." he chanted breathlessly. He hobbled out into the cavern the lantern's feeble light giving out a slight glow in the darkness. He saw the elf just sitting there, his face streaked with dirty tears.

"Are you hurt child?" Ah'med inquired anxiously, more than a little out of breath.

The elf shook his head, he stared up at Ah'med frowning. Did the old man not see there was nowhere left to run?

"Good, good," Ah'med wheezed. He took the satchel from his shoulder and pulled forth a crudely woven robe. "Here," he said holding it out to Elladan, "put this on, you will need its protection."

But Elladan made no move to take the garment,

"What ails thee father, can you not see the way is barred." he cried out.

"Oh," said Ah'med looking about him for the first time. "No, no child this is not the way. You must climb." he said and he pointed above their heads.

They both looked up. Elladan saw nothing but more darkness. But an errant gust of wind must have blown up on the surface for a gentle touch of clean air wafted down to him. His resultant burst of laughter was just a touch short of hysteria.

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Tariq reared high as the scent, that hated scent filled her nostrils. Elrohir grabbed onto the rough fur at her neck at the same time clamping his knees together. His bare toes fought to find purchase in the thick fur on her back.

"What! What is it?" he shouted and though his words were not understood, her mind linked to his so smoothly that he smelled what she smelled, he understood her hatred. Images of browns and reds, steel, death, blood. Men she smelled men of the desert down on the plateau below.

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The wind had picked up, blowing grit, chunks of stone and sand into the air. The elves and men pulled their hoods up around their faces to protect their eyes.

"The entrance to the underground passageway is here." Ah'lief shouted as they dismounted. They huddled together seeking protection from the wind among the tall outcroppings of rocks.

"Where?" shouted Veren as he pulled his cloak tightly around his body.

The wind suddenly whipped up a swirl of sand. It blew into Aragorn's face and he coughed, spitting out a mouthful of debris.

"I do not remember the precise place but it is here, hidden between these rocks!" Ah'lief shouted back.

Keeping a careful hold on the hood of his cloak Veren swept the area with his eyes. The huge formations were packed densely over a wide area. Searching for a concealed opening would be difficult at best, even without the vicious wind that seemed determined to batter them to bits against the sharp edges all around.

"Search then, but be careful, we cannot afford to lose any of our number!" Veren shouted to his companions.

"Aragorn come with me!" he called.

But Aragorn was distracted, he was sure he had seen something moving on the slopes, something dark and huge. He shaded his eyes with his hands but the sand was getting everywhere...

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The wind blew strong, ruffling the fur that covered her body. A storm was coming, a terrible storm, one that would cover the wastelands with deep drifts of sand. Soon they would have to find shelter. But that was not important right now. First there were the men, she could see them better for she had almost reached the plateau. They were scrambling over the rocks ahead of her. She would see them dead every single one of them. She would slay them, she would rip them apart the same way they had killed her younglings. She would eat their flesh and drink their blood.

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By the time he had climbed up to the first ledge Elladan was glad for the robe Ah'med had insisted he wear. Its rough weave protected his skin from the jagged edges of the rocks. Added to that the broad surfaces of the larger stones were so smooth that it was difficult to gain purchase. Many times he had slipped only to be saved by the cloth catching onto some uneven corner. Even so much of his exposed skin was covered with tiny cuts.

Sweating but victorious he lay carefully along the ledge and anchored his feet. He looked down to see Ah'med looking up at him. In the dim halo of light given off by the lantern the old man appeared ghostly.

"Come on," Elladan called.

But Ah'med only smiled and shook his head. "I am too old to climb child."

Elladan gaped at him in disbelief for a moment.

"You cannot stay here, he will kill you for aiding me!"

"Yes," Ah'med replied simply.

"Please Ah'med I will help you, come with me. I will take you to my father's lands." Elladan begged his hand reaching out into the distance between them.

But Ah'med shook his head stubbornly, "My place is here child. I could live nowhere else."

Elladan opened his mouth to plead with him once again but said nothing as at that moment they both heard a sound. The unmistakeable scrape of a boot on sand. Elladan's eyes grew wide.

"Ah'med!" he cried, his hand grasping at the empty air.

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