I know I haven't updated for more than a year now, but I get really bad writer's block when I get to the climax of my stories. So, to my readers, I'm sorry you had to wait so long to get an update. School hasn't helped either. But, now that it's summer and I've gotten into the college of my choice, I will be able to update a lot more. Expect the ending to this installment up within the next few weeks.

Please review! :)

Chapter 19

Rescue

In an instant, he was moving, ignoring the pain in his legs and arms. He ran the other way, the woods coming up closer and closer to him. He needed something… anything, anything at all.

"Augh!" His scream was cut short as he tripped, his elbows and forearms catching his fall. "Son of an Orc!" He pounded his hand on the ground. Part of his fist landed on something that stuck up from the dirt, and he drew his arm back. Even in the dim light, he could see the outline of the object, and his heart leaped into his throat.

"Thank the Valar," he murmured a prayer under his breath, and picked up the vine that had fallen on the ground. He stood and pulled as hard as he could on the vine, but suddenly, the ground rumbled again, and he found himself falling again. The mountain of rocks next to the pit shook and seemed ready to collapse.

"I am coming!" Estel screamed over the sounds of the earth. He did not know what evil this was, but he knew he needed to overcome it. He picked up the vine again and ran to the edge of the pit, where he let the vine fall in. "Grab on!"

However, the elves were too busy trying to get Cuiladan out from under the rock. Again, the ground shook, and the pile of stones next to the pit wobbled. Estel's heart leaped into his throat.

Morwen could tell the dark cloud was weakening. It receded to a thin smoke behind the trees of the woods. This was what always happened when it was outside, in the clean air. The goodness in the world was still strong enough to defeat darkness, even if it was only from the earth, the trees, and the sky.

It had made the ground shake, had created the pit, and now, was still trying to cover the pit again. The sons of Elrond were there, along with the Elvish guard. And, her heart ached at the thought, so was Cuiladan. But, she could do nothing. She was bound to the power, and it had commanded her to do nothing more than watch. His will was hers, and therefore, she could not move.

She watched again helplessly as the ground shook once more in an earthquake at the will of the darkness. Her chest pained her. I cannot let this happen, her conscience screamed, but she had long learned that she could not always follow her conscience.

Look at the good work you have done, she sneered at herself. You loved a man to his death, and you wonder why Thengel will not even sleep in the same bed as you. You reek of danger. Thengel already knew that. He knew you were of darkness. And now, a good man will die because of you.

She tried to will this thought away. However, the darkness had a control on her actions, but not on her mind. It was free to wander where it wished, and always, it flashed to her Cuiladan's face. He had been kind to her when no one else thought her of any worth. He had loved her for who she was, even when they had thought her to be Eordhe, a mere slave. He, of all people, had thought that she mattered, and here she was, about to let him die. I cannot.

The words seemed to come out of nowhere, but once she thought them, she was determined. She looked once toward the Shadow. It was again diminishing. It was so weak that Morwen was not sure how it could still stand to stay in the cool, moonless night.

Perhaps, just perhaps…

Morwen took a step. It came almost effortlessly. The Shadow really was losing its power.

"Gildor, climb!" Elladan screamed from inside the pit. "We only need two here to help him. The rest of you, climb!"

The other elves were reluctant to move, but the tentative stability of the pile of rocks made them see sense. "If you need help, call us!" Ranien cried, and handed the vine to Gildor.

Estel, watching this from where he stood, suddenly realized the flaw in his plan. He could by no means hold up four elves if they were to climb up the vine, but now, he could not let go and find a tree to tie the vine. There would be no time. The mountain of stone would fall and kill them all before that happened.

"Estel, let me."

A familiar voice sounded close to his ear, and a cool hand fell on his shoulder. He turned to find Morwen looking back at him with fearful eyes. Immediately, his heart filled with hate. She had been the reason they were all here in the first place. Had they not followed her, they would have been fine, and may have even been able to fulfill their father's mission of destroy the evil that lay within Mirkwood forest.

"Get your hands off of me," he snarled, and pushed the woman to the ground. "Have you not caused enough trouble?"

Morwen picked herself up with dignity, her eyes imploring. "Please, I want to help."

Estel snorted, and pulled on the vine. Already, the weight was too much for him. He fell to the ground so that his entire body could absorb the weight of the four elves climbing. "Had you really wanted to help, we would not be in this mess right now," he said through clenched teeth.

"No, you do not understand!" her voice was at the point of breaking. "I can't let Cuiladan die down there." Estel would have laughed had not the sincerity in her voice strike something in his own heart. "I… I love him."

The boy wanted to brush off this comment as something the woman would say to get back into his favor again, but he could not. There was something genuine in the inflection of her voice that even the best actress could not portray. He sighed, wondering why he was believing Morwen again. "Take the end of the vine and find something to tie it to. Make a good knot, for I can no longer hold them."

He was not sure that Morwen had heard him, until he felt something tug at the other end of the vine. He dared not look back, for all of his strength was concentrated on the four elves at the other end of the vine. If he let go, they would tumble down again, and even an elf would not survive the fall from the top of that chasm.

His arms strained, and his muscles quivered. But just when he thought he would let go of the rope, Gildor appeared at the top of the abyss.

The Darkness saw her move away from him, of her own free will. However, too much of its power was concentrated on the movement of the earth. He could spare no energy to reign her in. Let her go, it told itself. You have more worthy servants. And the chance to kill the sons of Elrond is only once in a long Age.

With this, it called upon the powers of the night, and bellowed to the heavens. With the last reserve of its strength, it pushed the earth to move, shaking the very trees to their roots and lighting up the sky with its fury.

Lightning crashed down from the heavens and split open three trees to its left.

"Yes!" it cried in triumph. This was the power it craved.

This would end here. Tonight.

Gildor ran to the aid of Morwen, whose clumsy fingers were beginning to slow as the Shadow mustered more power. The vine slid through her hands many times, until he snatched the vine from her and wound it tightly around a tree trunk.

"I am bound to the Shadow!" she cried, falling back, her limbs becoming useless as the entire forest rumbled with a deep rolling of doom. Her master was becoming more and more powerful. "Its hold is increasing on me, but I know how you can defeat it!" Gildor seemed to pay no heed as he made a sturdy knot with the vine. "It cannot stand anything of Elven make!" she continued, though she did not know how long her voice would last. "You must take it when it is unbidden and force it into a powerful source of Elvish magic!"

When the elf continued to ignore her, she forced herself up, remembering something Cuiladan had told her. Then, swaying like a drunkard, she began to walk toward the boy holding onto the vine.

Just as Orophin, the last of the four, came over the edge of the chasm, the earth suddenly split asunder, the deep rolling in the trees transferring to the ground. Lightning crashed down from the sky and split trees all around the clearing. Estel's heart was filled with fear, and he trembled as he held onto the vine.

Night became as light as day, as a boulder next to him burst open in a flurry of white sparks. It was so close that Estel felt the heat from the lightning bolt and heard it fizzle as the power sank into the earth. This was worse than any nightmare he had ever imagined, and still, the earth did not stop shaking.

Suddenly, the vine in his hand was tugged three times, so hard that he almost let go. He sucked in a lungful of air, and, despite the chaos around him, realized his brothers were yanking on the vine. He looked up in time to see the stones at the top of the small mountain quiver, then begin to fall.

There was no time to allow them to climb back up. Suddenly, with all his strength, he began to pull. However, the vine did nothing. Strong hands appeared next to him, and together, they began to pull on the vine again.

But just as suddenly, another pair of hands went around his neck, as if to choke him. It was Morwen. "No!" The treacherous whore! She was going to impede him at the most critical moment! This could not be happening. He tore at the hands around his neck, but the woman held on, like a vice. Her fingernails sank into his tunic and seemed to pull open his tunic. With a sickening sound, louder than the thunder and the earth, the fabric in the front of his top ripped away, revealing the glittering white mithril undershirt his father had given him.

Her fingernails scratched and broke on the hard material, but she soon found a grip on the buttons, and began to undo them one by one. "What are you doing?!" he bellowed, but his voice was drowned by the noises around him. A sudden fury flashed through his heart, and, with all his strength, he tore the fingers loose, threw Morwen to the ground, and continued to pull at the vine.

This time, however, another pair of hands, stronger ones, pried his hands from the vine, and held them out to either side of him. He turned, only to see piercing blue eyes and a head of gold. Gildor! What was going on?

He could barely stand, and sagged against the elf's chest, but the elf seemed to be a solid rock against the movement of the earth, and held still. Morwen, too, picked herself up steadily, and tore open his mithril shirt. Then, with the help of Gildor, she pried the shirt off of him and began to run toward the woods with it.

"What are you doing?" he screamed at the elf. His heart ached over the loss of his father's gift. "Why are you letting her do this?" His confusion and fury drained his energy, and when Gildor finally let him go, he sank to the ground in fatigue.

For some reason, the loss of the mithril shirt hit him harder than anything else. It was more potent even than the thought of the death of his brothers, his entrapment in Mirkwood forest, and his own impending death. Perhaps it was the impact of the sudden material lost. It was dark, and he was half naked, lying in the dirt in Mirkwood.

Despite everything he had been taught, he began to sob.

Morwen ran as fast as she could, holding the mithril shirt out in front of her. Cuiladan had told her about it when she had brought up the subject of her brother. The dwarves made it, but elves had cast many magic spells around it so that no harm would come to the wearer. Their father, Elrond of Rivendell, had given it to Estel for his birthday. A royal gift. If she was correct, the Darkness would not be able to stand the magic, especially in its weakened state.

She dodged between the trees, her legs becoming freer even as she ran. The power was receding. It had used too much of its strength in calling up the final earthquake and the storm. It was so weak, it would not even notice her, as she dashed behind it, the black cloud of nothing faintly touching the blade of grass beneath it.

With a yell, she launched forward with the mithril shirt and wrapped it around the darkness. A sudden coldness came over her, and she screamed as it burned like fire. Immediately, she let go and fell into the undergrowth beneath it, but her cry was drowned out by the high-pitched shriek that issued from the cloud. The shirt of mithril stayed floating, as if a ghost was wearing it, and suddenly, white light burst from its midst.

The cry was unbearable, and Morwen tried to cover her ears, but she found that her hands were immobilized by the cold. As the light poured forth, so did the darkness, and gray tendrils of smoke flew through the air, lazily picked up by the wind. Morwen closed her eyes at the brightness, but still, she could see it through her eyelids. The cry continued, until she was sure she would never hear anything else again.

Estel first thought it was just another bolt of lightning. But, as the light continued to shine, he looked up. Suddenly, a piercing scream sounded, making his blood turn cold at the sound. It was as if a thousand Orcs were being tortured at the same time.

The sound and light seemed to last indefinitely. Even as Estel squeezed his eyes shut and held his hands over his ears, he was sure he would never forget the sound for as long as he lived. The smell of charcoal and smoke entered his nostrils, and he wondered for a brief second what was being burned, but even as he pondered this, the scream stopped, and the light disappeared.

Slowly, the boy opened his eyes and looked toward the sky. It was no longer a shade of inky blue, and darkness no longer tainted the stars. Instead, it had become a hazy gray, and in the eastern corner, it was beginning to turn pink. Dawn, at last, was coming to Mirkwood.

He scrambled up from where he was sitting, not understanding what had just happened, but remembered instantly that he had been trying to get his brothers out of the pit. He looked around himself, and saw Gildor, Ranien, Orophin, and Lindir, standing in awe at the sunrise, and looking around, just as confused as he was.

Estel's eyes looked to the chasm, and he smiled. There, standing before the now-filled chasm, were Elladan and Elrohir, looking dirty and much worse for the wear, but unhurt. His heart was so happy that Estel did not know what else to do but run toward them. "My brothers!" he cried, tears streaming down his face. "You are safe!" He embraced them, one in each arm, and wept into their shoulders.

It only took him a moment, however, to realize that they were not rejoicing with him. He stepped back and scanned the chasm and the faces of his brothers. Something was wrong, and, when it occurred to him, his heart filled with ice. "Wh-where is Cuiladan?"

TBC...

Again, sorry about the wait. Please review! I love them :)