A/N - I'd just like to say; if anyone at all is reading this, could you please give a review to tell me what you think? Just a few words would be great. Thankyou.

Chapter 4 - A Chance Meeting

All was silent. The mournful white moonlight fell softly upon the gnarled, twisted old trees and their myriads of grey branches. A delicate wind hissed through the leaves, and made them rustle dryly in unison. This forest seemed endless, a deep ocean of forlorn grey, and lost somewhere within was Tinuial. It was days since she had stumbled into this place, although she had lost count of how many. The trees seemed to close in around her, so close to each other that she could barely find her way through. Her path seemed somehow already set before her, and there was naught for her to do but follow it blindly. She came suddenly to a clearing of the woods, and unable to move any further she slumped to the ground with her back to a dead tree. It was hollow, but immense in height and girth, and its crippled branches reached up to the heavens as though in a silent plea. The incandescence of the moon was almost spent, but ere they died the remains of reluctant light fell upon the sleeping forest, and the pale face of Tinuial. She wept now anew, and her tears shimmered with a cold, spectral sheen as they fell, making her face appear as a mask of white glass. Her hair was tangled and fell loose upon her shoulders, yet still it glistened like ice in the dying light.

Tinuial looked about her. She had no idea which direction she had been travelling in; for much of the time the stars and moon had been hidden by a thick roof of leaves and distant cloud, but it now seemed that she had veered predominantly to the East. Her hurriedly packed supplies were running low, and she wondered how she would find food in the Winter months. Yet such thoughts as these dwelt not long in her mind, for though she was sorrowful, and bitterly regretted leaving Thaliondil and Annariel, she had seldom felt freedom of this kind, and each glimpse of the unclouded sky filled her heart with a longing for new and unexplored lands. Each breath of wind whispered of lands wide and beautiful beyond her imagining, and her desire to fly as wild and feral as the wind itself increased with each passing day. She rose to her feet and resolved to journey a little further ere she slept, for though she did not travel with great speed she allowed herself little rest. On she journeyed until daybreak, when the sun was spreading its earliest glimmer through the dull sky. She then fell into a dreamless sleep just moments after setting her head upon the soft ground.

Tinuial woke with a start. It was broad daylight, though in this region the trees were thick and let through only vague glimpses of the sun. She had slept for a few hours and was still weary, yet something had woken her. At that moment she heard a distant noise as of dry twigs breaking underfoot. The shadows veiled her sight as she peered into the darkness of the grey trees. She heard the noise again. Hurriedly, she leapt to her feet and stole behind the thick moss-covered trunk of a nearby tree. The sound of the approach of heavy feet grew louder and nearer, and Tinuial held her breath. The sounds grew louder, until they were only a few paces distant. Feeling sure she would be discovered, Tinuial decided to meet the stranger. She stooped to the ground and picked up a dry branch which lay amid the green undergrowth, for she had not thought to bring any weapons. In any case she possessed no skill with either sword or bow, for she had never been required to use them. She felt it perhaps too late to regret this, as she held the branch in both hands and prepared to strike.

Tinuial sprang out from behind the tree with a suddenness which even startled herself, and found herself face to face with a hideous Orc. She gasped and hesitated for an instant. The creature also stopped in its tracks, clearly disorientated. Nothing so monstrous could Tinuial recall seeing or imagining in all her life. Its pale, scarred flesh seemed to seethe over its hideous head and limbs like the surface of a writhing mire. Its grotesque face was sallow and shrunken, and loose, translucent skin hung in folds about its wretched neck. Tinuial had obviously surprised the creature, and taking full advantage of this she smote him in the face with all her might. The creature staggered back slightly, but the blow did him no serious damage, and after a moment he advanced with rage burning in his fiery red eyes. Its breathing was feverish and harsh, and it wheezed and croaked as though its lungs were cramped in its chest. Tinuial swung the branch again, hitting it squarely on its hideous nose, yet this availed little save to anger the creature. It made a screeching roar, and its open mouth was wide and unsymmetrical as a gaping rent amid its face - like the slash of a cruel sword. Tinuial took a step backwards, and began to wonder if she could outrun this creature. At this point she noticed a blade in a dark scabbard hanging from a worn belt about the creature's waist.

The Orc advanced further, its outstretched hands and long claws grasping for her throat. Seizing her chance she smote the creature once more, summoning up all her strength and dealing a sharp blow to its filthy hand as it came close to her face. The branch cracked, and the Orc pulled it roughly from her grasp with its uninjured claw. Darting forward Tinuial grasped the crude sword and pulled it from the scabbard while the Orc held the branch aloft, ready to strike. The branch was cloven asunder as it came crashing down upon her shoulder, driven by the fell fist of the Orc, and guided by the malice of its mind. It missed her head only by an inch, yet the pain was immense, and Tinuial cried out in agony and fell to her knees. The sword was far heavier than she had imagined, for she was not particularly strong. She lifted it with difficulty, and stabbed downwards, piercing the flesh of the Orc's foot. He let out a terrible cry, as his dark blood spilled smoking from the wound to the forest floor. The Orc stumbled backwards over a protruding tree root, and fell to the ground. Unable to do aught else, Tinuial drove the sword through its throat. The Orc remained still, and life slowly faded from its eyes. Tinuial turned away, shaking like a leaf in the breeze, and she hurriedly made ready to leave. But at that moment, she was startled to hear a voice from the shadows of the trees.

'Well done!' It declared with a small chuckle. 'An admirable effort indeed, my lady.' Tinuial started, and her darkling eyes strained into the gloom.

'Show yourself!' She demanded, trembling.

'Pardon me, if I startled you.' A figure emerged from the shadow, and strode soundlessly amongst the trees. After a moment he stood before her - a tall, handsome man with dark unkempt hair shorn about his shoulders, and piercing green eyes. He was wild and wayworn, his raiment stained with blood and filth, yet he bore himself as proudly as any man she had ever seen, and his face grim and stern. Nonetheless, his bright cat-eyes sparkled with amusement as he beheld Tinuial. She regarded him with some surprise, for if she was right in her guess, then here stood a mortal man.

'Rarely have I witnessed such a battle!' He grinned widely. Tinuial was thoroughly apalled.

'And you did not think to aid me?' She exclaimed disbelievingly. 'Almost that creature cost me my life! Would you simply have stood idly by and watch it kill me!'

'My Lady, if you are not the match in battle for a single Orc, then your days would be short numbered indeed! Yet I deem that a miserable Orc could not take the life of a maiden such as yourself. ' He looked her in the eyes.

'Who are you?' She asked stiffly, feeling distinctly uncomfortable under his piercing gaze, and hoping he had not realised. 'And what is your business?'

'You would know much, my girl.' He replied sharply, the humour fading from his face as his mouth set in a stern grimace. 'I am an outlaw. My company was scattered, mostly slain I believe, for the number and strength of the Orcs was greater than we feared. The days are dark indeed, and war will come to all lands ere the end. Yet we all do as we are able. For my part, I destroy every foul creature of Morgoth that dares to cross my path. And far into this forest I pursued the miserable creature who slew my companion - a valiant and masterful captain he was indeed, mighty even among the Eldar, his own kin. But no matter, for an Elf maiden has completed my mission for me!' He gazed once more into her dark, soft eyes, as though trying to read her thoughts.

'No Elf am I.' She replied coldly. He was slightly taken aback, and looked closely at her face.

'Forgive me,' He replied. 'Yet to me you appeared as a fair Elven maid of the Isles of the West, in whom the light of the trees is not yet dimmed. I see that you are sorrowful, but your grief is needless. Do not envy the fate of the Eldar! In dark days such as these, I would count immortality as a curse - and their slow burning fire may yet fade. The spirits of men are brief in this world indeed, and yet for this they sometimes burn the brighter. Consider the Mormegil! He is by all accounts the saviour of your land! Yet I deem that even the strength and prowess of the black sword will avail little in the end.' Tinuial stared at the stranger, her previous anger all but forgotten. Almost despite herself, she felt oddly drawn to this man, to his strange ways, and to his words, sometimes so blunt, and sometimes so courteous.

'Do not fear, Lady!' he spoke now more softly than before. 'For you shall outlast this dying kingdom. Tell me your name, ere I depart!' He took a step backwards warily, looking about him with sharp eyes as though he sensed that danger was close.

'Tinuial I was called,' She replied, and paused. 'Please sir, do not to abandon me here alone!' She took a step towards him. He shook his head, and backed further into the shadows.

'I must.' He replied, 'For I have other errands, far more pressing.' His eyes twinkled, and he met her forlorn gaze with a slow smile. 'I leave you in safe hands, I deem. Farewell, sweet Tinuial, until we meet once more.'

Before Tinuial could cry out, he was gone. She stood motionless for some time, staring at the empty space between the trees where he had stood. At last she turned and departed from the place, thinking it unsafe to linger too long. Her mind reeled with confusion. Whence came this strange man? Who was he, and what were the meanings behind his ominous words? He was unlike any man she had met in Nargothrond, with his abrupt manner and wild appearance. And his eyes spoke of a freedom for which Tinuial secretly longed. She chided herself silently for being taken with a man so uncouth and wild - so he seemed indeed to Tinuial, who had, after all, lived a rather sheltered life. Nonetheless, it pleased her more than she would have thought possible to think that this man had deemed her to be beautiful; for though every Elf of the land of her home would complement a Lady on her appearance, this stranger did not seem to be a man to act purely out of politeness. She smiled.