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Chapter 5: One Orc and his Scimitar

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When the man did not move anymore,the Orcs wound a rope around his throat and the broken arm, securing it by tying it to a high branch of the tree, but left his hands unbound. This way, every attempt to free himself would cause him further pain and threatened to strangle him as well. Satisfied with the evening´s event, most of the Orcs turned to set up camp and get some food then.

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Legolas sat in a tree above Aragorn, his heart hurting, and waited for the right moment. He had made up his mind not to leave his friend behind, he just could not do it. One of the Orcs was still lingering about, testing if the knots were tight enough. He looked up when angry shouts reverberated through the approaching darkness. They informed Legolas that his disappearance had been discovered and distracted the Orc underneath him from Aragorn.

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Legolas did not hesitate; he slipped off the branch and landed on top of the unsuspecting Orc, bringing him down with a resounding thud.

The elf grasped the Orc´s head in order to break its neck, but the Orc had recovered more quickly from the assault than expected, and had grabbed his scimitar. Legolas pulled the creature´s head back hard, so it was unable to aim, but it struck out viciously nevertheless. Pain seared through his leg, making him gasp, but with the pain new anger welled up in him, and with one swift motion, he snapped the Orc´s head. He went limp, and Legolas pushed him away in disgust. He took the scimitar, as he had no other weapon, and turned to Aragorn, who was oblivious to the commotion around him.

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All of this had happened within seconds, but already Legolas could hear the other Orcs swarming about, and of course they would look for him here. They only had not seen him yet because it had become dark in the meantime.

Not heeding his freely bleeding leg, he cut the rope, then bent down and gently turned Aragorn around. With one swift motion, he lifted his friend up, determined to carry him all the way to safety if need be.

For a terrible, eternal moment though, it felt like his injured leg would give out. Shaking, Legolas took a deep breath but set off nevertheless; he could not afford to waste any time.

He could hear the Orcs as they were searching for him, cursing and shouting, and several times he thought he could feel their foul breath in his neck. He shivered at that prospect, but he was determined not to let his fear get the better of him, not now.

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He walked on for several hours, trying to think of light, listening to the reassuring voices of the leaves rustling in the night´s breeze, and suppressing his worry for his friend, who had not woken once since they had taken off. Only when Legolas stumbled occasionally did Aragorn give a soft moan, otherwise he remained oblivious.

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But then came the moment when Legolas felt that he could not go on anymore, as weariness, sorrow, thirst, hunger and most of all, his injury, became too much for him.

The sky had become lighter already, a soft twilight settled above the trees.

Legolas sank to his knees, somehow managed not to drop Aragorn, and spread out next to him. There he lay, feeling exhausted and drained all of a sudden. He desperately wanted to go to sleep, thirst and hunger as well as the constant alertness and fear of the previous days taking their toll, but he knew he should not, it would be too dangerous.

Still, he could not move, and his mind drifted off, seduced him to peace and quiet...

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Aragorn slowly opened his eyes; glorious sunlight greeted him, making him squint due to the sudden brightness. He blinked; everything was blurred. For a moment, he did not know what had happened or where he was, but when he tried to move, pain shot through his body, and his head started to throb viciously.

Orcs. He remembered now, and his heart sank. They had been captured by Orcs. He slowly turned his head, to see if Legolas was next to him, and was relieved to discover that he was indeed. Despite the blur he looked at his friend, trying to assess how he fared. It took him a while to realize that something was different. His eyes were open! He seemed to be sleeping, and he looked unusually drawn.

If only they had not taken out their fury on him as well, Aragorn thought. But then he would not be sleeping with open eyes, would he?

Aragorn tried to shift to have a better look, but even the slightest movement caused agony, and he could not suppress a groan. He closed his eyes, concentrating hard on suppressing the pain, and half-awaiting one of the Orcs coming over and teasing him for it. But it remained silent. When he opened his eyes again, he saw that Legolas moved, and a few seconds later, the elf sat up.

"Oh no", he groaned, much to Aragorn´s astonishment, "I fell asleep. It is light..." Only then did he see that his friend was awake as well and watching him.

"Aragorn!", he said, relief evident in his voice. "How do you feel?"

"I have been better", Aragorn said, unaware that his voice was barely audible. "Why-"

"We escaped", Legolas said.

"We-...how?"

"I cannot explain it now, we have to go on. I did not want to sleep, I was just so tired..."

"Did you carry me?"

"Yes, of course. You were unconscious, after all."

Legolas got to his feet, winced and quickly sat down again. Meanwhile, Aragorn struggled to sit up. He head was spinning, but he stubbornly ignored the nausea and dizziness, as well as the pain. It made him sway slightly, but he tried not to heed it. Instead, he willed himself to concentrate on his friend. "What is wrong?", he asked Legolas with an effort and looked at his leg. The elf´s pants were torn and bloodied.

"One Orc and his scimitar", Legolas scowled.

"Let me see it", Aragorn said, and the elf did not object.

Aragorn gently removed the torn cloth around it; the cut reached from Legolas´thigh down over his knee and seemed to have bled profusely.

"You need to bind it", Aragorn said, "otherwise it might start to bleed again. Try not to bend the knee so as not to tear at the wound." He could not do it himself due to his useless right arm.

Looking at his firend, he tried to hide that he was quite worried because Legolas´face was utterly pale, betraying his true condition.

Legolas was already tearing at the hem of his shirt. "We have to move on", he said, while he was tying the makeshift bandage around the wound, "I fear they might come after us..."

Aragorn nodded and quickly stopped when his head protested. He could feel every single spot where he had been beaten. His arm seemed maimed, his shoulder dislocated. There was nothing he could do about it now, though, but it worried him: it was his sword-arm, what if he would not be able to use it again? The expression of blood-lust on the ugly Orc´s face... he shuddered.

Legolas got up again and cautiously tested his leg.

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"I can walk", Aragorn protested when the elf made to lift him up again. "You should not put unnecessary weight on your leg."

With Legolas´ help he got to his feet, swaying and waiting for the world to stop spinning.

"Are you sure you can walk?", Legolas asked, who had seen how his friend had paled and looked slightly green now.

"Yes", Aragorn said in what he thought to be a reassuring tone, trying to steady his breath as the pain throbbed through him.

"Let me...support you", he added, looking at the elf´s leg. But Legolas shook his head: "Your shoulder would not appreciate it", he said.

"How...how did you know that?"

"I have eyes."

"Oh... well..." Aragorn replied meekly.

Legolas just smiled.

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They walked as fast as they could; Legolas determined the direction. From time to time they stopped and listened. Once the elf thought he could hear something, but he was not sure.

They found a small stream and drank thirstily. The air was crisp, but they were sweating from the sheer labour of setting one feet in front of the other, and their dried out throats were parched.

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Aragorn did his best to support Legolas, who at one point could not hide the pain in his leg any longer and had started to limp heavily.

The elf did not like to admit it, but his strength was deteriorating despite the few hours of sleep; the ordeal that his body and mind had been put through recently started to show, and the blood loss had worsened it. The wound was throbbing and felt like it was on fire; he was quite glad that Aragorn was there to steady him and keep his mind occupied.

The ranger was swaying though, as dizziness and nausea were back and increasing eventually, affecting his remaining sense of balance. His shoulder ached as fiercely as his head when touched, but Legolas was careful not to put any weight on it.

Leaning against each other like drunkards on their way home, they struggled to get forward, away from their captors and probable pursuers.

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TBC

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