Disclaimer: Still not mine.
Chapter 7: Snap Decision
Tauriel
"Tauriel! Wait. This one we keep alive."
Legolas approached her and knelt while he fastened the orc's hands with a leather strap behind its back.
"Walk," he demanded as he roughly seized his shoulder, pushing him forward.
"I will go on ahead," she said.
Legolas nodded.
Running ahead, Tauriel stopped when she saw a member of her guard.
"Enola, how many are wounded?"
"A fair few, Captain. And some have passed."
"Who?"
"Bellas, Elashor, Zhoron, Imra, Levos, Esta and Ara"
Each name felt like a knife being plunged into her heart. She had known all of them, some better than others. She had personally trained Levos and Imra, but seemingly not well enough. Guilt twisted painfully in her gut.
"Get those who are injured but who can walk to the infirmary, but you run ahead and send word for Lessien and Naarria for those who cannot. Make haste."
Xxx
"Such is the nature of evil, out there in the vast ignorance of the world, it festers and spreads. A shadow that grows in the dark, a sleepless malice as black as the oncoming wall of night. So it ever was, so will it always be. In time, all foul things come forth," Thrandruil said as he surveyed the kneeling orc with as much distaste as one would have for a rotting corpse.
"You were tracking the company of thirteen dwarves, why?" asked Legolas in his most threatening voice.
"Not thirteen, not anymore," the orc now looked directly at her, "the young one, the black haired archer, we stuck him with a Morgul shaft. The poison is in his blood, he'll be chocking on it soon."
It felt as though her heart had dropped to her stomach, and her stomach had dropped into her shoes. What she said was: "Answer the question, filth!" but she couldn't get that word out of her mind : Morgul Shaft
A few months earlier…
It was her turn to patrol the edge of the forest; Eswen had been assigned to accompany her. It would be good for the young soldier, she had only ever dealt with the spiders in an isolated environment, and it would do her good to get a taste of the real world. Tauriel had no idea how wrong it was all going to go.
They walked along in silence, Tauriel deep in thought of how the darkness was clearly spreading through their home. But the king would not listen. It would seem that he was becoming more paranoid and more determined to hide within his walls by the decade.
An involuntary sigh escaped her lips.
Eswen turned her head to track the sound of displeasure to its source, questioning in her eyes. Tauriel smiled slightly and shook her head in response.
They walked together in amiable silence until the sun began to dip beneath the horizon, and that was when their elf ears heard it: footfalls
Far more than one pair.
Too heavy to belong to a dwarf or man.
Far too heavy to belong to an elf.
Orcs.
They shared a look and without further discussion swung themselves gracefully up into two facing trees.
They were well above the ground, high enough not to be noticed by a passerby, but low enough to attack when necessary.
"Fifteen?" Eswen mouthed at Tauriel.
Tauriel shook her head. "Less," she mouthed back.
Tauriel waited for the orcs to be directly beneath them, nodding and starting their small scale battle.
Though it was only the two of them, they made quick work of the orcs. But when they were each down to their last foe, they realized that they had made a mistake. A grave mistake.
Yes, there had only been ten orcs approaching them at the beginning, but Tauriel thinking that this particular group of orcs were simply some wanderers who had the misfortune of finding themselves on elvish land, hadn't considered that they could have been scouts. Which they were.
Tauriel and Eswen were now surrounded by forty odd orcs and, even by elven standards, that wasn't very good odds.
They fought well together, Tauriel finding her familiar pattern and Eswen desperately trying to utilize her training.
It was all going remarkably well, until they were down to their last handful of orcs. Eswen was preoccupied with her single orc, while Tauriel dealt with three at the same time.
With a grunt of frustration, Tauriel plunged her daggers into two of the orcs chests, but not retrieving them in time to block the attack from the third orc. The orcs swung his ugly, deformed arm straight into her chest, sending her to the ground from the impact. A few more seconds and the orc would've been dead, Tauriel could easily have sent her dagger into its heart, even from her position on the ground.
But Eswen didn't see it like that.
She heard her mentor cry out (she did not realise that it was from frustration, and not pain) and saw her fall to the forest floor. She threw one of her knives into Tauriel's opponent's neck, and watched him slump to the ground in a vile heap of flesh. It was Eswen's opponent's perfect opportunity to strike. And he did.
He slashed at her abdomen, leaving a trail of ripped flesh and blood in its wake. Overcome with pain, Eswen grasped at her side and stomach, staring dumbly at the orc.
One of Tauriel's arrows ended him before he could deliver Eswen's death blow.
Both Eswen and the orc fell to the ground.
Kneeling on the forest floor, clutching her waist, gasping in agony, Eswen felt as though she was being burned alive.
"Move your hands, let me see," said Tauriel as she knelt beside her, pushing her down by her shoulders to lie flat on the ground.
Tauriel cut through Eswen's uniform, and almost emptied the contents of her stomach upon seeing the wound inflicted upon the young elf.
A jagged red line travelled from just above her right hip, across her midsection, and ended just below her left hip. Blood flowed from the wound, but that wasn't what worried Tauriel, it could be easily remedied with some bandages and rest, what worried Tauriel, was the fact that not only was it oozing blood, but also pus which seemed to be mixed with oil. The colour of the substance coming out of Eswen was closer to that of tar than to that of blood. The skin around the wound looked ghastly as well, it was dark blue with black tendrils spider webbing across her abdomen, spreading.
The blade was poisoned. But not with just any poison , Eswen had been cut with a morgul blade. No other poison could spread that fast.
"How bad is it?" asked Eswen from her position on the floor.
"You'll be fine," answered Tauriel, forcing a smile.
Eswen took one look at the captain's face and replied: " I'm going to die, aren't I?"
"Be still and let me work," said Tauriel as she dug around in her satchel for bandages and water.
"Right, this is going to hurt so brace yourself," Eswen nodded and dug her hands into the dirt.
Tauriel poured water over the wounds, and Eswen hissed.
The red haired elf tried her best to clean the cut, but more and more gore kept spilling out. Finally, realizing that the way it was now was as clean as what she was going to get it, she began wrapping her abdomen.
A few excruciating minutes later, Tauriel declared that she was done.
"Alright, help me up and let's get back to the kingdom," said the injured elf.
"Don't be stupid, put your arms around my neck and bend your knees."
"Absolutely not, I'm not letting you carry me as though I were a babe."
"Fine then, stay here and die," said Tauriel, though she was already in the process of picking Eswen up.
Elves are known for being light on their feet, as well as for their strength, so carrying Eswen didn't strain her well trained muscles, but it did slow her down. A lot .
After an hour of running back to the kingdom, Tauriel realized that her front felt wet. Looking down, she saw that it had been soaked through by Eswen's blood. Eswen herself had lost consciousness. Tauriel pushed herself harder.
Eswen began to stir and moan, seeming to be caught up in a hellish dream. Her eyes flashed open with a gasp, and Tauriel almost lost her footing. Eswen's eyes were glazed over, milky and unseeing. It was not long before she began to thrash uncontrollably, and Tauriel's now aching muscles struggled to keep hold of her.
They arrived at the gates not a moment too soon, and Legolas rushed to meet them.
"Tauriel, what…?"
"Get Lessien, Eswen has been gravely wounded by a morgul blade."
Nodding, Legolas took Eswen from his friend and blanched at the blood he saw on Tauriel's uniform.
"It's not mine, it's hers."
Together they ran to the infirmary, and as always the head healer Lessien, was ready when they arrived.
At the end, it took four elves to hold a single, not even fully mature member of the guard down. Lessien worked fervently over her, healing her wounds.
Tauriel held Eswen's shoulders and head down, so she had a clear view of her face. Twisted in agony, eyes wild and unseeing, skin so pale it looked translucent.
In time, Eswen made a full recovery and was back to making mischief. But for Tauriel, her screams of anguish still resounded in her nightmares.
She pictured Kili, Kili who seemed to be made of light, choking on his poison induced screams of utter agony, and her blood boiled. She would not let the one who had kissed her soul die an agonizing death, not while she could do something about it.
Not knowing how, but vowing to save him, she left the kingdom of mirkwood, knowing that she was sacrificing her life as she knew it, for a chance at saving his.