First Meeting
Chapter 7: Fighting the Enemy
Disclaimer: The Lord of the Rings Trilogy belongs to J. R. R. Tolkien. I'm writing this for fun, not money.
Big thanks to KatieElizabethGrace for being my beta reader.
The orc party was a small one about three dozen. Orcs rarely came this close to the stronghold. These must have been particularly daring and desperate to risk venturing this close to the Elvenking's home in the hope of stumbling across a few lone elves.
Tauriel was not afraid. She was outnumbered but she had faced forces larger than her own before. She had also fought beside Daugron before, and knew that he was one of the most skilled warriors in the Greenwood. They could win this battle.
When the first of the orcs emerged from the trees, Tauriel glanced at Daugron, perched on the branch of a tree nearby, and nodded. Much was said in that small, silent signal-get ready, good luck, time to move, have courage.
Tauriel began the well-practiced motions of battle. Setting an arrow to her bowstring, pulling it back with all her strength, releasing, grabbing a new arrow from her quiver, and repeating the motions all over again. By now the actions were instinctive. She did not think. She just did.
Unprepared for the onslaught of elven arrows, the first few orcs fell quickly. Then the remaining orcs had enough warning to be able to prepare themselves. They hid behind trees to shield themselves and their own archers drew their arrows and began to retaliate. The orcs archers were not very effective. Tauriel and Daugron, like all wood elves were able to hide themselves completely from view in the trees. Basing their targets only off of where the arrows were coming from, their shots missed their marks. Yet as the orcs steadily progressed closer to where the elves were hidden, Tauriel and Daugron's situation grew more precarious. From experience, they knew that if the orcs got close enough to be underneath the tree they were hiding in, then the arrows would start coming at them from all directions, making it very difficult to avoid all of them.
So, when the orcs were only a few feet away from the truck of the oak that was shielding her from their assault, she jumped down onto the ground. In her peripheral vision, she saw Daugron follow her to the forest floor a moment later. She drew her knives, and waited for the orcs to move closer. The orcs, who preferred the viciousness of sword fighting over archery, abandoned their bows. They drew their swords and rushed towards the elves.
There were over two dozen orcs remaining. Now in hand to hand combat, Tauriel's hopes were diminishing. Still, she did not allow that to effect her fighting. When the orcs rushed at her, she deflected their blows with typical elven speed and agility. Her attacks were swift and well-placed, bringing down her opponents quickly. Yet, for every enemy she killed another quickly took its place.
Caught up in her own battle, she did not see Daugron fall. The only indicator that her fellow soldier had fallen was the sudden rush of additional orcs. Without the distraction of a second target, the entire orc party was now focusing on her. She could not allow herself to be distracted from the battle for even a second to mourn her friend. She continued fighting, despite the sadness in her heart at the death of another warrior of Greenwood, despite the fact that she was now facing dozens of orcs alone, despite knowing that she would die.
She tried to keep the orcs all in front of her, but outnumbered, she could not prevent them from spreading out to surround her completely.
She stabbed her knife into the chest of one of the orcs, and quickly pulled it back out. She turned to face her next adversary, and that was when it happened.
An orc blade slid into her stomach. Blood immediately began to emerge from the wound and quickly spread over her chest.
"No." She gasped.
She did not feel any pain. Instead, everything seemed strangely distant. The adrenaline she felt during the battle was gone, leaving only indifference. She could see the orc who had stabbed her, yet she felt no anger.
She was still holding her knife. She saw herself clenching its hilt, although she could not feel the knife in her hand. A warrior of the Greenwood was trained to never drop their weapons. A warrior of the Greenwood was trained to never surrender.
The orc had not moved. It grinned at her, a mocking grin, celebrating his victory over her. It knew that she was dying, that she was defeated. What the creature did not understand was that she was not fighter for herself, she was fighting for something bigger than herself.
She was not aware of moving, but she saw her knife being plunged into the orc's throat. She saw the blood that gushed from the wound, saw the orc's eyes widen in surprise. She saw the orc fall.
She felt no triumph at her enemy's death, nor did she feel any remorse. She felt nothing.
As her sight began to blur, she saw the remaining orcs move off into the forest, towards the prince that she had sworn to protect. Then, she saw nothing, and she felt nothing.
The familiar feeling of his weapons in his hands was a reassuring one. Like all wood elves he carried his weapons with him, even in the stronghold, always ready for any sudden attack. Having his weapons taken from him had been disconcerting as well as humiliating. It was a relief to finally have them returned to him. The man, who had told Legolas that he was called Strider, was a complete mystery to him. He had trusted Legolas' word, and turned over the elf's weapons without reservation. Now, he awaited the orcs' arrival with his former hostage.
Why the man stayed to fight the orcs was puzzling to Legolas. Perhaps he had a personal reason for hating orcs. Perhaps it was just to gain the elf's trust, although trust would not matter if he was killed in battle Whatever the reason, Legolas grudgingly gave the human a small amount respect for not fleeing as Legolas had expected him to.
Holding his bow with an arrow already positioned on the bowstring, Legolas waited in the trees for the orcs to appear. Strider stood waiting on the forest ground below. Legolas did not understand why the man would choose to expose himself when he could hide himself among the trees' foliage, but Strider insisted that he could fight better on the ground. Legolas was not optimistic about the man's fighting skills. He had only been able to overpower Legolas in the dungeon by using a sly and underhanded trick. The man was also already injured. Legolas doubted that he would be much aid in this battle. That meant he would have to kill most of the orcs himself. The orcs were close enough now that Legolas could hear them tramping through the forest. He could tell that there was a little more than a dozen. That was small for an orc party, but still a lot for two people to defeat alone.
There was some advantage to having the human around. Upon seeing the lone man standing beneath the trees, the orcs quickly surged forward, headless of the danger they were rushing into. Hidden from sight in the trees, Legolas was able to take down a number of orcs before they even came close enough to fight against Strider. His skill with the bow was impressive, even by the high standards of Greenwood warriors, and many of the orcs fell from his arrows.
To Legolas' surprise, the orcs that did get through the onslaught of arrows, were quickly and efficiently slain by Strider. The man was clearly well trained, and even with an injured shoulder he was an excellent fighter.
Soon, the orcs realized the presence of their hidden, second attacker. When their own archers began to fire back at him, Legolas dropped down from the trees to avoid the storm of arrows.
Standing back to back with the human, Legolas drew his knives. He had much experience fighting orcs. The orcs' fighting style was vicious and crude. They relied completely on brute strength rather than skill. Their offensive style of fighting made them easier to kill, but it also made them more dangerous. Their blows were sudden and unpredictable, and their superior numbers gave them a strong advantage. Still, Legolas was confident that they could defeat the remaining orcs.
Although Legolas preferred his bow, he was still well practiced in sword fighting. Between himself and the man, who was clearly also a skilled fighter, the orcs were falling quickly.
Only a handful of orcs were still standing, and they were growing desperate. Legolas plunged one of his knives into the stomach of an orc. Simultaneously, he blocked the blade of another orc to his left with his second knife. Being attacked from all sides, there was nothing he could do when he saw an another sword swinging straight towards him.
Author's Note: An honourable warrior's death for a strong, female character without all the stupid romance. A happy ending for everyone.
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