Just want to say thanks to all those of you still reading, and to those of you who are following/ added the story (or the author)to your favourites it really makes me so happy. Thanks also go to DaHybridQueen, SadowedRainbow and ILoveVolleyball for the lovely reviews.
ILVB - you really should get an account so I can reply to you directly! Glad I can still spring the odd surprise on you. I think keeping a little childishness inside and letting it our every now and then is good for everyone too!
Love pumpkin pie! *licks lips* very tasty thanks and keep that coffee coming! :) Thanks
Right - here we go again. And as usual. Feed the muse. Keep those reviews coming. I love to know how you feel, even if you hate it!
Chapter 32
Bright light calls the young man to wakefulness as the sun streams down on his face, bringing warmth and a fresh, new morning scent. Alert immediately he sits and surveys his surroundings. The other two men are still asleep by the ashes of last nights fire, snoring gently, their chests rising and falling beneath blankets that have seen much use. Quietly he rises, stretches his long limbs then moves into the cover of the trees to relieve himself. He mulls over last nights events on the way back to the camp and hopes he has made the right decision. Rummaging in his pack he withdraws a small parcel of leaves and a metal pot, he re sets the fire then pours water from his flask into the pot and adds some of the leaves before placing it on the fire to heat. Looking up he notices Draegs eyes are open and fixed upon him an undefined expression passes over the older mans face then he smiles.
"Mornin,'" his voice is slightly gruff from last nights drink. "You still here then." Almost a question rather than a statement, Estel nods in reply.
" I agreed to stick with you last night didn't I?" He pulls another cloth wrapped parcel from his pack and unwraps it to reveal a few strips of dried venison."You want some?" he holds a piece out and the man takes it with a grateful smile.
"Share and share alike now eh!"
They both chuckle then look over to their companion who is still lying, wrapped in his blanket, mouth open to the sky, oblivious to the world. With a sly smile and a wink Draeg picks up a smooth pebble and launches it towards his friends face, it lands with a small thud between the closed eyes.
"Damn!" He curses happily "I was aiming for his mouth."
Picking up another pebble he tries again, this time hitting the end of Flinn's nose, drawing a muffled groan from the smaller man in response and making him bat the air with one hand as if swatting a fly, before turning over and beginning to snore once more. With an exasperated sigh the larger man flings away his blanket, rises to his feet, walks over to the sleeper and kicks him sharply on the behind.
"'Ere!"
A sudden burst of movement accompanies the shout as Flinn reacts by sitting up and lashing out with his own foot in an attempt to bring the other down but Draeg is too quick and steps nimbly out of the way.
"Whatyer do that for?" The smaller man grumbles as he rubs his eyes then groans. "Someone turn that light out," he squints up at his companions.
"Aww, whats up?" Draegs voice drips with sarcasm, "Does yer head hurt then?" He grins, "'tis yer own fault, you should know when ter stop." He walks over to his own discarded blanket, picks it up, folds it and returns it to his own pack. "'Tis time we was movin' on," he mutters as he rummages around then pulls out a small tin cup.
Estel has removed the pot from the fire and holds it up in mute offering. Draeg hands over his cup and watches as the steaming liquid is poured.
"Thanks." he states gruffly when the cup is returned and stands blowing on the hot infusion. Flinn watches the exchange rubbing his eyes.
"Any more of that?" he asks with a nod of his head.
"Sure." Estel grins. "Here, take my cup, I'm done." Quickly swallowing the dregs in his cup he then refills it and passes it over. Flinn accepts gratefully with a sigh.
"Parched I am, thanks." He blows across the surface then takes a small sip. "So," he looks up at the young man, "I suppose you'll be off to see the king then?" Estel glances at Draeg before replying slowly.
"Well, I'm not really sure, where I'm going." Flinn frowns at these word.
" Oh," he takes another sip of hot tea, "but I thought." He pauses as his friend breaks in with.
"He's coming with us."
The two men stare at each other and Estel watches carefully as he begins to pack up his belongings once more, the air thickens slightly before the tension evaporates with the throaty chuckle emitted by the smaller man as he mutters.
"Ah, well, another pair of hands will come in handy if we ever manage to catch the pointy eared princeling!"
Estels breath catches in his throat and he freezes as his brain catches up with what his ears have just heard.
"Legolas!" His mind forms the name and he only just manages to keep his mouth from saying it out loud. "They are after Legolas?"
The thought runs through his head like wildfire and it is all he can do to stop himself from drawing his sword and cutting the men down where they stand. Not knowing how he manages to regain control of himself and continue nonchalantly breaking camp, sure that any moment one of them is going to realise the effects those words have had but the outburst never comes and he begins to relax once more as he kicks over the traces of the fire. He smiles to himself, thankful of the choice made to join these men, and happy with the thought that his friend is far away in Imladris out of harms way.
.
Unfortunately for the elf in question that is not the case and he is definitely in harms way. Days spent in a perpetual sense of heightened awareness, tracking down and killing orcs with a cold ruthlessness once so alien to his nature are beginning to take their toll. One short night of sleep after he knows not how long has not been enough and the ability to slip into waking reverie to enable at least a little rest is becoming more and more difficult as he pushes deeper into the dark depths of the forest where evil seems to lurk around every bush.
He can no longer even trust the trees and this tears at his very core. As a wood elf he is used to making his way through the canopy with as much ease as walking upon the ground and it has come as an unpleasant surprise to find boughs and limbs suddenly pulling out from under his feet requiring him to utilise all the agility he possesses to stop himself plummeting to the ground in an inelegant heap. He finally gives up and, bruised, and battered, with a myriad of small cuts from fine whip like branches he admits defeat and keeps to the ground, although the malice in the trees runs so deep that he finds himself in a constant battle to stay upright, as roots eagerly snake out to catch and trip his unwary feet.
Eventually one particularly nasty large willow root manages to loop itself into a slip knot before wrapping around a tired ankle and Legolas is unable to stop himself falling once more, this time, however, he feels an intense sharp pain and hears the unmistakable sound of snapping bone as his ankle is twisted maliciously by the offending tuber.
Biting back the tears which have sprung, unbidden to his eyes, he draws one long knife to cut away the root but it withdraws at the threat of the blade leaving his rapidly swelling foot throbbing mercilessly. This is not good, he must find shelter before he can properly tend his wound, so he begins to shuffle on his behind over to an aged alder tree, which appears to be sleeping, then, grasping at its trunk, pulls himself upright. The pain as he moves almost makes him scream out but he bites his lip and the metallic taste of his own blood fills his mouth.
At last, he is standing on one leg. Gingerly he puts his left foot to the floor in an attempt to find out how much weight it will bear and pain surges through his body once again, giving the answer he dreads. Sweating and panting through the pain his mind is whirling, he needs to bind the injury and find somewhere he can be relatively safe from the evil things that lurk in the forest but he is having trouble focusing both eyes and brain. Making a great effort he eventually calms his ragged breathing and spots a stout branch lying a short distance away that may be useful as a sort of crutch, hopping over to the fallen limb he manages to pick it up and on testing, it proves to be strong enough to give support. He begins to move off again slowly, making his way carefully over the rough terrain, alert now to the threat from underground he scans the area in front of his feet carefully before each hop, knowing that he is vulnerable to attack but unable and unwilling to move at a faster pace.
.
There is an oppressive silence in the forest as the three men make their way along a little used track. and a sense of unease is growing in Estels mind. It seems that they are making for somewhere in particular but he has been unable to find out where or why. In fact, since breaking camp this morning Draeg has become tight lipped and insular, hardly uttering two words to either companion whilst Flinn mutters to himself continually under his breath and jumps at each slight noise. Having spent some time in Mirkwood with Legolas in the past Estel has some knowledge of its environs, enough to tell him that they are skirting wide around the edge of the kings realm to avoid the regular patrols although he fears that if they keep heading south, as they are, they may wish those elven guards were close by. Orcs he has met aplenty in the past but he has never yet encountered the fabled spiders of Mirkwood and has no wish to make their acquaintance, yet by all accounts, the southern part of the realm is now awash with both these and other foul beings, drawn to the dark spreading out from Dol Guldur once more.
At last, midway through the day Dreag eventually calls a halt in a rocky clearing and the three men lower themselves to sit under a jutting overhang and take their ease. Opening his pack once more Estel brings out the few remaining strips of dried meat he has left and offers them out, both men nod gratefully and take a piece then they sit, each locked in their own thoughts, chewing contemplatively. Flinn is the first to break the silence.
"So, how far now?" he turns to Draeg questioningly then takes a long drink from his waterskin.
"Not far," Dreag replies gruffly, "About half a days walk 'tis all"
Estel listens and tries to work out their destination but he has never come this far out from the halls before.
"Do you still think that's the best place?" Flinn rummages in his pack and retrieves three small apples, he throws one each to his companions then takes a large bite out of his own.
"We was told they'd bring 'im there, so that's where we will be," the larger man scowls at the smaller "I ain't riskin' the boss's wrath by not doin' what I was told" he glares meaningfully over the top of the waterskin held to his lips before taking a drink then lowering it slowly. "How 'bout you?"
Flinn shudders. "No way" he replies adamantly and finishes off his apple, core and all.
The conversation has Estel intrigued. "So, is there a plan than?" he asks nonchalantly around a mouthful of apple. Taking in the quick glance that passes between the two men.
"Aye," Draeg drawls slowly, "you could say that" he pauses for a moment to think.
"C'mon Dreag" Flinn breaks in "he's gonna need to know if he's gonna be any help, so you might as well tell him now."The taller man continues to sit in silence for a moment then nods his head.
"Ok," he says and turns his eyes to Estel " It's like this."