Pain exploded in Blomyr's face as he was sent crashing to the ground. When no further attack seemed forthcoming, he looked up warily to see the uninjured Ranger - Rercyn, he'd heard the other Ranger call this one – holding back the screaming, frothing Owathol.
"Let me go! That little brat deserves to die! Are you happy now? Are you happy now?"
No. No, I'm not happy, Owathol. I'm sorry. So sorry. I didn't think this would happen. I'm sorry. Even now, Blomyr couldn't bring himself to say those words aloud to Owathol, no matter how keenly he felt them. Staring at the broken, bleeding bodies of Guryn and Rercyn's partner, Blomyr let Owathol's harsh screams pull him into an unforgiving sea of regret.
"Owathol! Owathol, enough!" Guryn's rasping voice broke through Blomyr's misery. Looking up in shock, Blomyr gasped to see Guryn's eyes open. He's alive! Blomyr scrambled to Guryn's side and fell to his knees, words falling out of his mouth in an uncontrollable flow. "Guryn, Guryn, are you alright, please please say you'll be alright, I just wanted to prove I could do it, I swear I didn't think..."
"You wanted to prove yourself by sneaking out in the middle of the night? You wanted to prove yourself by hurtling right into Orc territory? You wanted to prove yourself a foolish irresponsible glory-seeking brat who gets himself and his partners kil..."
"Enough, I say!" Guryn's shout was followed by a blood-filled cough, but it managed to silence Owathol. For one dreadful moment, Guryn struggled to inhale; it was only when his breathing evened out again that Blomyr let out his own breath.
With a painful slowness, Guryn said, "It isn't his fault. He's young, and proud, and you and Cadilein just wouldn't let up on scolding him and hurting that pride last night."
He paused again to draw breath; Blomyr wanted to scream to see Guryn defending him even when he was injured. Injured because of Blomyr. Because he'd fought to protect Blomyr, fought to defend a callow, arrogant youth from the blades of Orcs. Blomyr's eyes burned with unshed tears.
Owathol is right. I was stupid to throw a tantrum and sneak out last night. I was stupid to think I could go hunting deer alone. If the Rangers hadn't been tracking these Orcs, I would have died.
And now...Guryn's going to die instead of me.
Merlin, why are those three hunters here again? Standing a few feet away, Severus surveyed the scene dispassionately. The jovial one looks like he's been heavily wounded. Seems like the goblins here are just as warlike as those in the Wizarding World. They can't be very skilled though, if...Severus did a quick count of the dead goblin bodies...fourteen were killed by merely two warriors and a trio of inexperienced huntsmen. It's a pity I didn't see the actual fight. Though, I wonder if there are more goblins coming – fourteen makes a very small tribe. If I wait, perhaps I'll get an opportunity to examine them and these men's fighting styles more closely.
Calmly, Severus leaned against the tree, checked to ensure that the protective charms around him were still strong, and prepared to wait. And perhaps, he might have gotten his wish, and observed more about the world he was about to enter for a little while longer, if not for two problems.
The first problem was the hunter's hounds. Or rather, one hound in particular. This dog had the dubious privilege of being the recipient of most of Severus' kicks the day before, due to its incredible nosiness. Thus it had quite the grudge against this strange being which it could smell was there, but could not see nor even bite.
So, after the whole vicious battle with strange-stinky-monsters and knowing subconsciously that one of its masters was near death, this hound was not feeling particularly kindly towards smelling that strange being within range again. With a growl, it charged straight to where Severus was hiding, and leapt – aiming straight for Severus' neck.
With a startled yelp, Severus jerked away – quite forgetting that he had his shields up.
With a croaking caw, two of the Crebain swooped in to protect their master – thus putting themselves within biting range of the hound's jaws.
Almost without thought, Severus simultaneously dropped his shields, made a grab for his familiars and leapt diagonally out from behind the trees – which caused the hound to go crashing headfirst into the bushes.
Rercyn surged up, drawing his sword – only to jerk to a stop when a whole flock of Crebain swooped in to defend the stranger.
This, thus, left them all frozen in a strange tableau – the dead Orcs, the wounded men, the armed Ranger, and, best of all, the tall, thin, evil-looking man cuddling two of the Dark's most hated spies.
Oh Merlin. Blasted mutt. Severus was not inclined to look kindly upon the half-growling, half-whimpering canine. Particularly since it bore a strong resemblance to Black's Animagus form.
Staring warily at the warrior-in-charge, who seemed to be barking out fierce but incomprehensible questions to him, Severus focused upon sending soothing thoughts to his badly frightened familiars. Escaping these men will be even more difficult than yesterday. Though, it helps that they're all tired and wounded from their fight with those goblins. If I can incapacitate the warrior first, the others should be easy to handle. Now, how to do this without revealing my magic...
Poor Severus was destined to have all his plans foiled that day, however, for it was at that very moment that his second problem came up.
With a chilling war-cry, the Orc reinforcements launched their attack.
I have got to train the Crebain to fight, Severus thought grumpily after executing yet another hair-raising rescue of his precocious familiars. Spinning around and pouring in more magic to strengthen his Shield Charm, Severus reveled in the surge of adrenaline that sharpened his senses and spun grace into his form. Truly, how could their old master have neglected their potential in warfare? Their claws and beaks make such wonderful weapons...which brings me to why, why, why my Animagus form is a useless blasted doe instead of a crow...
A quick glance to his left showed the warrior in his full glory, stabbing and swinging his sword about so quickly his arms were a blur. Leaping over a goblin's warhammer and twisting to kick its head in, Severus did what he was best at: multitasking. Or rather, fighting and strategizing simultaneously.
So, I have a few options here.
One, to leave this area immediately. I truly can't keep hiding forever, though. Now that both goblins and humans have seen my face, I should establish a reputation for myself immediately.
Two, to cover my tracks by killing them all. Which, again, leads to the problem of when I choose to re-enter polite society. Though, I suppose I could keep my identity secret by killing everybody I meet...oh no, no, no. Tempting as that sounds, I really should let go of that kind of mentality.
Three, to form an alliance with either side in this little fight. Severus stared thoughtfully at the goblins, but soon discarded that idea. They look too stupid to appreciate teaming up with a human. And I should avoid the Dark side until I can secure the Crebain's safety. Oh well, the Light Side it is, then. Blast it all, I suppose I really do have to be nice to this great brute of a warrior.
Once he'd reached his conclusion, Severus spun into an even faster course of action. Scooping out a fistful of the healing herbs from his pockets, he tossed them at a nearby Craban, which caught them up neatly in its beak. It then carried them over to the wounded men and occupied itself with trying to smear healing herbs over their injuries with its beak and wings.
Meanwhile, Severus darted to where the youngest hunter had been forcibly separated from his comrades. And just in time too, for the clearly inexperienced youth looked to be near collapse from facing the vicious attack of three goblins. Severus solved his predicament by a quick and dangerous twist of his body between the goblins, thus forcing their formation into disarray.
Scooping up a goblin blade and swinging it wildly, Severus motioned for the boy to follow Severus back to where the warrior and the grumpy hunter stood over their injured comrades' bodies. With the four of them presenting a formidable front, the goblins soon retreated. Which allowed Severus to continue with Step Two of his plan – creating a false identity for himself.
Rercyn didn't know what to think of the stranger who'd just appeared out of nowhere. On one hand, he had a flock of Crebain following after him. Which meant that he must be on the Dark Lord's Side.
On the other hand, he'd just helped to fight off a score of Orcs. Which meant that he might be a good man, after all. Of course, it didn't help the confusion at all that he couldn't understand the Common Speech. This was a downright suspicious fact indeed.
"I know him," the hunter, Owathol, said suddenly. Startled, Rercyn glanced at him. Owathol's fists were clenched and his eyes burned with suspicion.
"I recognize his voice. He was following us yesterday, sneaking about in the woods. Up to no good, I'd wager. Probably working with the Orcs too." Owathol's eyes were taking on a manic gleam. He's channeling his grief into anger, Rercyn realized, and felt his own sharp sorrow for his partner, Eorel, rise up. Owathol took a menacing step towards the stranger, whose face was contorted into an alarming grimace. "Who are you? Speak up!"
"He might be a foreigner," the younger hunter, Blomyr, spoke up, but in subdued tones. Nevertheless, Owathol still rounded upon him, snarling. "Keep your mouth shut, you little brat! You will not speak a word to me ever again, you hear? You will not..."
Blast it all they still look suspicious of me. Honestly, wasn't helping them fight the goblins sufficient proof that I'm trustworthy? I suppose an additional gesture of goodwill is in order. Severus tried to smile encouragingly at the men, but soon gave up. Judging by their expressions, he really needed to brush up on his How to Look Nice strategy.
Perhaps posing as a fellow warrior isn't a good idea? I can't really explain my lack of weapons, for one thing. I only possess the clothes on my back and the healing herbs in my pockets...wait. Yes...yes, that's it!
Slowly, careful to make no sudden movements, Severus took out more of the healing herb from his pockets and knelt besides the wounded men. Thank Merlin I'd gathered so much of this useful herb. Now, let's see if magic and medicine combined can make me look more likable than my face has so far.
Half-distracted by Owathol's berating tones, Rercyn snapped to attention when the stranger took a step towards where Eorel lay. Prepared to draw his weapon, Rercyn froze when the stranger took out a familiar-looking herb from his pocket. Kingsfoil. So he is trying to help after all...?
Warily, he watched as the stranger rubbed more of the herb onto Eorel's gut wound. His gaze soon grew disbelieving, however, when under his very eyes, Eorel's wounds shrunk...and healed.
Impossible. The full powers of kingsfoil can only be released in the hands of a descendant of Elendil. Could he be...?
His mind reeled as the stranger repeated the procedure with the dying hunter, Guryn...and it worked yet again. Rercyn exchanged shocked glances with Owathol and Blomyr, trying to determine if he was hallucinating or not. His skepticism had to disappear, though, when Guryn and Eorel began to fidget...and awaken.
"Guryn, Guryn, Guryn you're alive I don't believe it...!"
"Ah steady on, you two, let me go I won't stay alive if you don't quit hugging me like this...!"
"...Rercyn? What's going on? What...How...Who's this man, and why're there so many filthy birds around ahhh stop pecking me you dumb bird...!" With a glad cry of his own, Rercyn leaped to embrace Eorel, for now putting aside his confusion about the stranger. Who might very well be the heir to Gondor.
No use speculating about him here. Might as well bring him to Steward Denethor. By the Vala I can't believe Eorel's alive...! And the clearing rang with their glad laughter.
Severus smiled smugly to himself as, some time later, he found himself riding upon a warrior's horse. Looks like Lucius' horse riding lessons paid off, after all. He urged the steed on, basking in the awed and somewhat frightened gazes of the two warriors. Healing charms truly are useful when you're pretending to be a gentle, innocent healer from foreign lands.
If Severus had only known, that his act of using the innocuous healing herbs as a cover for his healing charms had just reeled him into a world of intrigue and Dark Lords, he would've felt much, much less smug about his skills at deceit.
A/N: Just for clarification, kingsfoil (or athelas) is a healing herb. It's full powers can only be released in the hands of the king. It helped Aragorn strengthen his claim to the crown.
So, Severus is not the king. Remember that he had the great good luck to first land in Lossarnach, where athelas grows. Thinking that it was a magical herb, he took a lot of it with him. He can't release the kingfoil' full powers, but instead used it as a cover for his healing charms, since he wasn't prepared to show his magical powers to strangers. He has no idea that the Rangers now think he's the heir to Gondor. Let the identity confusion ensue!