Another short little piece written when I had the time! Sorry again to keep you guys waiting! I'm too tired these days to write very long! And thank all of you who reviewed and so got my lazy butt to work!
ZombieGurl98: Thanks, as always, for your reviews. That's always a constant; I can always count on them: ).
Idhrennial: Oh, I don't like writing passionate love stories. They're so. . . common, these days. A good friendship is always so much rarer.
Bananadude: Yay! Love it when my stories are different!
Ven: Can I call you ven? Happy bubble for the whole day! Yay!
Nymph: Nope, Tera doesn't fall madly in love with an elf that falls madly in love with her and go riding off into the sunset. Heh. She'd probably kick his ass before too long.
So sorry again for the long wait and please review!
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They broke camp just before dawn. Glorfindel was in the lead with his silver-grey stallion, with Tera and Quest for War content in the shadows behind. It was raining again. Streaks of lightning lit the forests and Tera gripped the reins and prayed that no tree before them would be hit.
"We are two days away," Glorfindel called, sparing a glance back at her.
"In this rain?" She questioned doubtfully as Reggie yanked his hoof out of sucking mud.
"Even so," came the absent reply, and Tera knew that he was brooding about his elf-friend.
There were orc tracks on the road. Tera spotted them with the ease of a trained stalker, and knew that Glorfindel had as well. They were stale enough, reason for wariness but not for worry. But they were reminders on how close danger lurked, even on a darkly lit morning such as this.
Reggie sniffed out the danger before the elf-horse, but they were both quick enough for it to hardly matter. Tera leaned close to her mount, realizing that it wasn't the tracks up in front that had raised the alarm. And then, with shock-
Pouring rain had rendered elven hearing helpless! Mist had covered sight from both of them! And even as the two horses swerved and veered away, she heard Glorfindel call out that it was an ambush.
Speed! That was her only chance of survival. She whirled Reggie around into the shadows beside the orcs, deftly unleashing a pair of throwing daggers at the dark figures. The blades flashed through the air before being encompassed by the mist, but Tera saw the figures crumple and knew that she'd hit her target.
But no time for triumph –some distance away, she heard a horse's war-shriek and the clash of steel on steel. Unsheathing her blades, she threaded her way to the back of the line, knowing that silence and the cover of her cloak would not fail her.
Was it without moral: attacking from behind? Maybe it was, but Tera cared not. She knew her strengths, and she knew her weaknesses. She was a thief, a rogue, not a warrior such as Glorfindel. And if there was a choice between life and honor, honor would be stupidity and life the only choice.
The first three or four were downed before realization of their attacker hit them. Tera knew the drill: kill hard, kill fast, and disappear before gathering too much notice. This was more than the usual patrol party. The orcs numbered in the twenties instead of tens. This was an ambush.
She hated ambushes.
The fifth met her head on. He hadn't expected Reggie though, and the crow-faced stallion ended his life with slashing hooves. She could feel bloodlust rise inside him even before he screamed a war-cry of his own.
Reggie!
The sixth went down even as she searched for a way out. There were too many now! She would not fight head on unless she had no choice, and she felt her choices abandon her.
Fine, then.
Snarling, she heeled her horse and let him rear, let thrashing hooves descend on the grounded orc. She heard a spitted word, 'Yrch', and knew it to be Glorfindel. Tera started Reggie in that direction, letting blade and hoof and teeth clear the way even as she felt the battle-fever engulf her.
This was power! This was strength! She gave her heart to her blade and drove her raging horse on, more heedless to danger than she would have been otherwise until-
Thwap
A white feathered arrow downed an orc at her blind spot.
That was stupidity. She could have died because of her own stupidity.
Enough. There was still slaughter going on, and her concentration could not afford to suffer.
The orcs alive had died down the four or five; Tera gave not the time to count. Glorfindel fought like the warrior he was described to be, and his elven horse reared with power and purity even with the white of his flank streaked with orc-blood. She heeled Reggie to him even as her dark stallion took out another.
She'd have liked to say that it was her thief sense that spotted the archer, but honestly it was more by luck. It mattered not. She saw him, and she saw the cocked arrow.
The dagger flew from her hand with a speed and unconscious ease that fascinated. Even as Glorfindel swerved around, the orc was sinking slowly into the puddle of blood that was his own.
The rest were easy. None survived.
Tera swung off immediately to check on her horse who, battle-fever still surrounding him, pranced and jigged and refused to stand. Still, there was not more than a shallow cut to his flank, which she quickly cleaned and dressed.
The blade wound on her leg wasn't deep, but neither was it shallow. Dressed and bandaged, though, it didn't hurt quite as much as she'd expected it to. The elf, she noticed with no small disgust, had not a scratch on him, and not even a drop of blood to mar his golden hair.
He walked over to her.
"You saved my life," he conceded agreeably, "thank you."
Tera raised an eyebrow in response.
"Should I have just left you to die? I need a guide, elf."
Instead of snapping back, though, Glorfindel just smiled a little, evil smile.
"You can not deny it –you care," he said with a grin to Tera's scandalized face.
"Do not!"
"Yes, you do."
"No I don't!" Her jaw was dropped in outrage and shock.
"Lying is a sin, lady," his grin could outmatch a Cheshire's if he desired.
She stared, mouth agape, for a while as rain dripped down her hair and face.
Finally, though-
"Well, you owe me."
"You forget, I had saved your life before."
"You did not!"
"He was about to stab you, lady," he replied placidly.
"Reggie would have gotten him," she snapped back.
"Would he?"
"Yes he would!"
"I think not."
And so like this they mounted and rode on, tension dying together with the recent battle, a friendship as unpredictable as flame and ice forged to live or die as the pair wished. And it was friendship, was it not? And not an elf's way to keep an assassin from straying away from the job at hand.
