Maybe I should have crammed this story into one big chapter. It's so hard to cut and begin! I was lucky the last time because Legolas showed me how to end it (seriously… I just kind of let the characters play and see where it goes, and apparently, Legolas didn't want to tell the men his name until the end), but then I had no idea how to begin this chapter! Let's see where they take me now….
"You are a Wood-elf, anyway, though Elves of any kind are strange folk. Yet you comfort me. Where you go, I will go."
- Gimli from The Two Towers
Chapter 2 - The Felled Deer
"You have a woman back home, Master Legolas?"
Legolas nearly choked on Haashim's 100th question as he popped a wild berry into his mouth. Haashim had not dropped his interview even as he and his men sat in a circle on the soft grass, wolfing down the berries Legolas had scavenged for them. The men had begged for some food and rest lest they faint from starvation. Legolas too was glad for the break for he was getting as tired as the men, not so much from the walking, but from the questions. They were getting more and more detailed and personal. His reluctance and indifference were not discouraging Haashim as he had hoped.
"No."
"Oh, but you do have female Elves, yes?"
Legolas snorted. "Of course we do," he retorted irritably. At first, he merely thought Haashim as an exceptionally curious man, but now he was dangerously bordering along ignorance.
"That is interesting."
'Is it?' Legolas thought bitterly as he busied his mouth with another berry. He did not sit in a circle with the men, but stood leaning against a nearby tree as he did not completely trust these strangers yet. And he probably never would. He only had to endure them until they exited the forest, which was not too far ahead.
He had unwillingly learned a lot about them over the brief time they had been walking thanks to Haashim. Umar, for one thing, had been friends with Haashim since they were children. They grew up in the same village and were both dispatched to this land a few months ago: Haashim as a captain, and Umar as a doctor. Bakar and Jibran grew up in the same village further west than Haashim and Umar's, but did not know each other until they became the same team. Tyr was the only one whose background was vaguely known. He was the scout and archer of the team since he was the most agile and silent. The young one carried an aura too grave for one of his age, and Legolas guessed that he had gone through some difficult times.
Legolas casually looked over at the men and abruptly caught Haashim's piercing gaze. The man had not eaten his berries yet, although he must be starving – a display of pride perhaps? Man and Elf locked eyes, and Legolas absorbed much information about him through them. Haashim's eyes were deep, dark, and hardened by difficult experiences. They were the eyes of a man who had seen many deaths, and were not afraid to give or receive it either. His set jawline displayed his fiery determination to see through whatever he started. Legolas could see why men would follow him. He had a handsome face, but not in a way that women would fall for; it was a face that screamed charisma and leadership. But what fascinated him the most was the evidence of warmth. He could not pinpoint it and explain it, but it was there, and that was probably the reason why Legolas was still helping the men.
"I presume you have a wife?" Legolas asked for the first time.
Haashim, caught off guard, stammered a little as he answered, "I- yes, I do. And three children. We are expecting a fourth…." His eyes darted to the ground mid-sentence as if he was guilty of something. "Actually, I think the fourth may have been born now…." he mumbled.
The man with the sharp eyes and lighter features that sat next to Haashim – Umar, Legolas remembered – looked up at his leader and frowned.
"You did not tell me of this," he said in his own language. Although Legolas did not understand, the tone sounded a little accusatory.
"I have just remembered," Haashim answered, "Poor Shana. She had to go through childbirth by herself."
Umar put a strong hand on Haashim's shoulder and squeezed it.
"We must get you back home. The town will celebrate! I will have Roshi cook something special. You know she is the best cook."
Haashim smiled at Umar. "But not as much as my wife."
All the men shared low chuckles at the remark.
"I would die for some home-made bread," grumbled Bakar as he swallowed his last berry whole.
"And some meat and wine!" Jibran added.
The conversation became alive as the men reminisced in the memories of their lives back home. All except Tyr. He was not doing much talking, but just sat with his chin in his hand, smiling as he listened to the older men jabber away. Haashim also let the man have their moments while he himself studied Legolas intensely. The Elf stood motionless, eyes drooping slightly as if bored or in a daydream as he rested his head against a tree. The Harad captain found him maddeningly interesting. He had a body of a man, but an ethereal quality to him that was almost feminine, yet not quite feminine enough. He could tell that this creature was capable of lethal action not only by the weapons or the muscles, but by his eyes. Oh, the threatening look Legolas had given him and his men had not slipped past Haashim's attention. He had to admit that it had given him goose bumps. Never had he seen such great and unique a creature since the great mumakil.
Lost in thought, Haashim flinched when Legolas's eyes swiveled and fixed itself on him. Had he known that he was watching him? Haashim coughed nervously before he threw all his berries into his mouth at once and casually asked Legolas another question.
"So, you say you are visiting these woods, Master Legolas?"
Without taking his eyes off Haashim or making any movement Legolas answered in a level voice, "I am."
"Then how, may I ask, do you know your way around this maze-like place?"
"I have my ways."
"Elvish magic, perhaps?"
"Perhaps."
"Can all Elves do magic?"
"It is likely."
"Do Elves like to be alone?"
"Some of them do."
"Do you like to be alone?"
"Sometimes."
"And are you travelling alone?"
Legolas frowned suspiciously at the question. Now it sounded like Haashim was probing.
"Why do you ask?"
Haashim shrugged and started to get up. The other men followed suit, grabbing their packs and weapons.
"Curiosity, Master Elf. If you have not noticed already, I am a curious man. So are my men, but they are not as fluent in Westron. So, I ask the questions for them."
With no further words, Haashim stepped aside almost too politely and swept his hand to the road ahead, indicating for Legolas to go first. Legolas narrowed his eyes and went to the front of the line. But as he passed Haashim, he paused and turned to face the man, who was nearly equal in height.
"No, I am not alone," he replied in a low voice. The two held each other's eyes for a tense second. Haashim was smiling, but his eyes had darkened as they read the implied warning in Legolas's words.
As the men followed Legolas once more, Umar walked up to Haashim and spoke to him in a hushed voice.
"Haashim, I do not like this. He says he is not alone, but how many he is with, we cannot know."
Haashim rubbed his chin and mouth as he stared at Legolas's back, all the while presuming the Elf was aware of his gaze.
"I do not think we have to worry about numbers, Umar. He is not alone, but he is probably not with many as he makes himself sound to be."
"How do you know?"
"Instinct, my friend."
Umar scoffed.
"I respect you, my captain, my friend, but I do not trust this Vyari. His thoughts are difficult to read. There may be hoards of them on our very backs right now. I did not like him from the moment I saw him. Why do you familiarize yourself with him so?" he complained.
Haashim tightened his lips, the way he always does when he is thinking hard. Umar knew that his friend already knew what to say; he was just looking for the right words.
"I have been thinking… do you remember Khaldoon, Umar?" Haashim finally asked. Umar's eyebrows shot up at the name.
"The Mad Collector? Why do you speak of him?"
Haashim stared at Umar as if trying to bore his meaning into him. Umar, ever the quick thinker, dropped his jaw as he caught on quickly.
"Surely you don't mean-? You have always hated the man and his sick hobbies!" he exclaimed in a whisper. His eyes darted to Legolas as if worried he would understand the conversation. When he looked back to Haashim, he saw that his friend was serious.
"It would be best for all of us and our families. When we go back, we will not have much left, especially since we lost the war. We will need the money," said Haashim, "And that, my friend, is why I must gain his trust."
Umar shook his head in disbelief. "That is bold thinking, Haashim. How will you get him to follow? It was difficult enough to persuade him to show us out of the woods."
"I will think of something. Now hush, he may be listening."
Legolas's back itched in tense anticipation. The urgent whispers behind him were extremely unnerving, and he almost expected a knife to plunge into his back anytime. The only reason he did not turn around was because the trees were silent. Had any of the men raised arms, the trees would have been enough to alert him. He knew they were talking about him. The only word he knew, Vyari, had caught his ear, and the tone in which it was said set off warnings in his head.
But another anxious feeling was creeping into his heart that had nothing to do with the men behind him. A light breeze stirred the leaves: Simple wind to the men, but to Legolas, a message. The trees were passing a warning down the line. Something draws near. Something unwanted. Something… repulsive. It was approaching quickly enough that Legolas drew his bow and notched an arrow faster than he could say "Gondor." Startled, the other men also drew their weapons, though not so sure where to point them. Looking from the surroundings to Legolas, Haashim cautiously approached him with his sword lowered.
"What is it?" the man asked.
"Something approaches. It is making my hair stand on end," Legolas replied.
For a moment, the company of six stood rigid with their respective weapons in hand along with ears and eyes straining for anything out of the ordinary.
"Does anything… live in these woods?" Umar whispered.
"Nothing foul that I know of," said Legolas.
It did not do much to reassure the men though. So Haashim followed Legolas's gaze and ordered Tyr to go investigate. Without a word, Tyr obediently slipped into the darkness of the trees ahead. As the rest of the party waited with sweaty palms, the forest suffocated them in its silence. Not a bird chirped nor a leaf stirred in the nonexistent wind. Legolas was the only one not shuffling nervously on his feet with his ostensibly confident stance, and he had also relaxed his arm somewhat. Haashim and Umar exchanged looks: Was this a trap?
Suddenly, as quick as a lioness would pounce at its prey, an arrow shot through the air and dived into the grass a few feet from where the men were. A heartbeat later, another one hesitantly followed and landed near the first. Out of pure reflex, Legolas pulled his bowstring taut, but gasped sharply when Haashim roughly grabbed his arm and jerked it away from his intended target. His arrow flew astray and became lodged between a random tree's roots. Legolas shot Haashim – who still had Legolas's arm in his – a look so furious that the man's breath hitched just the slightest.
"What are you doing?" he hissed, angrily eyeing the hand on his arm. Haashim released his hold and showed his open palms to Legolas before pointing to the arrow in the grass.
"That is Tyr's arrow," he said in a strained whisper.
"Your scout? Why does he attack us?"
"He is signaling to us, not attacking us. It is our way of communicating when noise is bound to be dangerous. See how it has landed obviously far from us? The arrow is also very dull and is only fit for such usage, not battle."
Legolas softened his expression as Haashim calmly explained their ways to him.
"I understand. Forgive me. I could have injured one of your men," he apologized. Haashim smiled politely.
"No harm done, Master Legolas."
Legolas stared in wonder at the two arrows. Quite a unique mode of communication, he mused.
"What do the arrows mean?" he asked.
Haashim's smile melted into confusion as he mumbled incoherent words. The other men were also fumbling with their weapons, not sure what to do with them.
"Well, one arrow means enemies…."
"And two?" the Elf prompted.
"Two arrows mean-"
Before Haashim could finish his sentence however, the trees all but screeched at the same time Tyr came bounding back to the group. Legolas shivered at the ferocity of the trees and groped for another arrow despite Haashim putting another hand on his bow arm. Tyr answered Haashim's puzzled look with a quick succession of words to which the leader's eyes flashed. The men murmured amongst each other, while Haashim spoke angrily to nobody in particular and ruffled his hair as he paced in short steps. Legolas caught Haashim glancing at him, and he returned the look with a frown.
"What do two arrows mean?" he asked again.
Haashim sighed and replied none-to-happily, "Two arrows mean friends, Master Elf."
"Friends?" Legolas repeated. That did not explain the men's reaction. And what friends would these lost men have in Fangorn?
No sooner had he questioned Haashim did a series of growls reach his ears. His head whipped back to where Tyr had scouted and was shocked to find three wicked looking Orcs wielding ugly weapons marching towards the group. The shrieking of the trees had disrupted his hearing and so had not been able to detect the Orcs in time. One of the creatures narrowed his eyes at them and called out: "There you are! Where did you and your men go prancing off to, Haashim? Oh? What a pretty prize you have there. Trying to make off with it all by ourselves are we now?"
It was almost comical the way Legolas and Haashim exchanged looks: the Elf in panicked realization, and the man in panicked guilt. Quicker than a heartbeat, Legolas dropped the arrow he was holding, unsheathed his white sword, and swiped once at the men to drive them back. A cry of pain issued from one of them – Jibran perhaps – as Legolas's sword cut into his arm. Seeing the excitement of action, the Orcs gave a great battle cry and raised their weapons. Haashim frantically shouted orders to the men in that foreign tongue of his, and soon Legolas found himself facing whom he once thought could have been good people. Hurling at them an icy glare, he darted left before they could encircle him any further. He only had to lose them in the labyrinth of trees and he would be safe within the protective environment of Fangorn. Already the trees around them were starting to shiver as violence dared to ensue on their grounds. As he was about to disappear behind the nearest trunk, however, there was a twang, a thump, a short cry, and Legolas was tumbling in the leaves and grass. The grounded Elf dragged his eyes to his legs and shuddered as they captured an evil-looking black arrow protruding from his right thigh. A victorious roar shook the air. His injured leg would accept no energy and left him helplessly waiting for his assailants to catch up to him, like a hunter would to a trapped game. Glad his sword was still in hand, Legolas desperately swished it around, daring anybody to step forward. The men, contrary to the Orcs, did not seem too enthusiastic about even trying. An Orc that seemed too skinny for his armor stepped forward with a bow that also looked too big for him and aimed another arrow – this time at Legolas's heart. Pure terror seized his arm and fixated his eyes on the point that would deliver his death soon. The Orc dragged on with his lips stretched in a sadistic smile: He was reveling in the Elf's fear.
"No! No! Do not kill him!" Haashim frantically shouted.
The Orc's smile was replaced with a disappointed scowl, but he did not lower his weapon. The biggest Orc among the three turned and confronted Haashim. His chest puffed up to look all the more menacing.
"You've got guts, Kid. Since when do we take orders from you?"
"Dear Mauluk. I am not ordering anybody. My apologies if it sounded so. But for a moment, just think about something other than killing and injuring. There is much to be gained by keeping the Elf alive."
Mauluk grunted like a wild boar. Haashim cautiously took this as a sign to continue.
"There is a man back in my village, a very rich man. He is a collector of rare species from all over the world – both living and non-living. He has many creatures in his collections, but alas, they are only confined to creatures of Harad, and he is ever hungry for more. If we give him what is not from that land, he may pay us a sum handsome enough to feed all five of my men's families for three generations! And if you help us get him to Harad, I promise you that you will also be rewarded.
Haashim sounded like a merchant trying to sell goods to a skeptic buyer, or a swindler preying on a poor victim. Either way, it seemed he was quite persuasive for he had Mauluk rubbing his chin thoughtfully. While all attention was turned to Mauluk and Haashim, Legolas attempted to take this chance to edge away from the scene. But the arrow in his leg was persistent and begged for his attention by shooting spasms up his body with each tiny movement. Legolas could not hold his voice in any longer and let out a soft, strangled moan. Alerted by this sound, the Orc with the bow stomped up to his victim and used his momentary vulnerability to kick his sword away from him. He shook his own weapon menacingly ("Don't think I won't stick you in the gut just because someone wants you alive"), effectively pinning Legolas to the spot.
"What prize does a man have to offer us?" Mauluk challenged.
"As much gold as you wish and the honor of our entire village. He is also a man commanding a large army. He is basically the most powerful man in our village. If you help us, I will personally persuade him of your deeds and he will most likely present you with an army of your own."
Umar bit his lip at Haashim's obvious improvisation. He was treading on dangerous paths here. One wrong move and these Orcs could kill them all. But Umar had given Mauluk and his men more credit than they deserved. Mauluk's eyes shone at the thought of commanding his own army. The three Orcs had been part of the lower ranks back when they served the Great Eye, and the thought of finally getting some recognition was too good a chance to pass by. Grinning in naïve glee, the Orc leader stepped toward Haashim and declared,
"You have a deal."
Umar released the breath he had been holding and shared a glance with his friend. Haashim looked equally relieved that the immediate danger had passed, but he knew a bigger storm may yet come.
"So what do we do with 'im?" asked the archer Orc, inclining his head toward Legolas. Haashim looked at his Elf guide and was not too surprised to find that he was glaring at him with immense loathing. He could practically see the insults shooting from Legolas's eyes.
"He said he had friends," said Haashim not taking his eyes off Legolas, "But we do not know how many. It would be dangerous to have them trailing behind us."
The skinny Orc jabbed his arrow at Legolas's neck.
"Tell us how many rats are behind you," he demanded.
Legolas glued his mouth shut and played the mute.
"Just tell them where your friends are if you do not want to get hurt. I know you are not alone," Haashim said.
When Legolas gave no response, the Orc gave a short laugh that sounded like a goose honk and shot Legolas on the hip without a second's hesitation. He cried out in shock and fell back into the grass from the force. After waiting a moment for Legolas to regain himself, the Orc reached down and ripped the arrow – barbed at the ends as if multiple arrowheads had been plastered on top of each other – out. It was a surprise that neither Treebeard nor Gimli came running to his aid because Legolas's unearthly screams were loud enough to be heard from Lothlorien. Shaking from the burning in his bleeding hip that overrode the pain in his leg, he had to wait for the ringing in his hears to subside before he began to hear the mumbled beginnings of more interrogation.
"Quit yer yabbering. Shut him up Yagrad. He might wake the trees again, he will," Legolas heard Mauluk say.
"The trees?" Haashim asked.
"There's some sort of Elvish sorcery in these woods. Back over there the trees came alive like a pack of wild wargs and killed two of my men when we were fighting that Dwarf!" Mauluk growled.
"They killed my brother! I want revenge!" one shouted.
"Shut up Gaznag! Since when do you care about Gazuf?"
Legolas's heart skipped a beat at the mention of a Dwarf. Surely, that must be Gimli!
"A Dwarf? Are you saying you saw a Dwarf in this forest?" asked Haashim.
"Unless he was a stout man, I'm sure. I know a Dwarf when I see one."
"And was he alone?"
"Yarr! He was alone. And he is probably dead! The trees were unforgiving."
Legolas started when Haashim abruptly turned to him and pierced him with a scrutinizing gaze. Trying to regain his composure, he returned the look without a word. But he knew it was too late. The corner of the man's lips curled in amusement.
"Not friends, but a friend. Am I right, Master Legolas? You know this Dwarf."
"Elves do not make habits of befriending Dwarves," he replied coldly.
"I'm sure they don't," said Haashim with a dismissive wave of his hand. "But I would like to. The Small People are also a rarity in Harad. Tyr! Go find Master Legolas's friend – the Orcs will tell you which direction – and escort him here. Be kind." He added the last words with heavy emphasis.
Tyr gave a curt nod and went to fulfill his mission while Haashim gave additional orders to the other men and the Orcs. The Orcs sneered at Haashim at first, but grudgingly went to work at Mauluk's angry bark. Legolas's leg remained unyielding, and left him watching, powerless, at Tyr's retreating back.
"You stoop too low, human," he growled at Haashim. "Joining hands with Sauron and fleeing only to join Orcs instead? You are a coward amongst men. I am a fool for believing your stories about your wife and children. I see now that those were only stories to gain my trust."
Haashim stretched his lips tight again and slowly walked over to where Legolas helplessly lay on his elbows. He crouched down and looked Legolas in the eye. His dark eyes were strong enough to penetrate weak souls.
"No, Master Legolas, those stories were true," he said in a low voice. "My love, Shana, and my dear children, Marisa, Bruno, and little Ambar. They are all real." He snarled the last four words as if it physically pained him to say them. These words would have evoked sympathy within Legolas under regular circumstances, but now, not a speck of warmth could be found in his blue orbs. Haashim dropped his gaze momentarily and paused before looking back up with softer eyes.
"The pain of war is real too, Master Elf. It inflicts us all. We were promised riches from Sauron when we were drafted, but alas, we have lost. I do not care much for the riches themselves, but I have nothing back home and my family is probably starving. What would you have a man do when faced with such circumstances? Please understand that I do not join the Orcs willingly. I have no choice."
"You ask much of me. Would you ask the deer for forgiveness after shooting it down?" Legolas said bitterly. Haashim chuckled humorlessly at the retort.
"I regret that it has come to this," he said, "Had I known, I would not have made the effort of getting to know you."
"It would not have made a difference. Corrupted men always make corrupted choices in the end."
Haashim released a harsh breath before straightening himself up and looking around the site at the men and Orcs going about their business.
"Do not blame me, Master Legolas. Blame the war. It makes demons of the noblest men."
I had to cut this chapter because I planned waaay too much material to fit it into this one chapter. Friendship! Betrayal! Family! War! All fun topics. Especially betrayal!