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This one's for you...
CHAPTER XIX
BY YOUR SIDE
"Did we lose them?"
Annalyn's breathless query came as they hastened through the woods, her feet kicking up leaves and snow as she ran. Her blood rushing with the pounding of her heart, she glanced over her shoulder, but failed to see their pursuers. It was night still, too dark to see very far.
"Do not look back!" Haldir told her in a lowered voice, never slowing in his pace. "Just run!"
He was holding her hand still, leading her with keen eyes and even better reflexes through an increasingly dense forest.
"Should anything happen," he had told her earlier in the night. "This is where we run, south and west, until we reach the Anduin."
And so they were.
Yet, with every passing moment, Annalyn's heart sank a little deeper. They were fleeing, leaving. It hurt to leave.
Ever since her uncle had been laid to rest, tracking the Orcs had been her sole focus, the means through which she had hoped to find Aldin. Alas…
Even now, she did not know if he had been there or not. There just hadn't been enough time.
When Haldir skirted past another tree, Annalyn followed and ducked to avoid one of its branches. Her legs were on fire, her sides hurting from exertion. But slowing was not an option at this point, not until they evaded the Orcs—if they evaded the Orcs.
For a time, their escape seemed rather hopeful, the distant shouts of their pursuers having faded somewhat behind them. But their good fortune was short-lived, for the forest suddenly opened before them, revealing an obstacle she had not anticipated nor considered.
Her boots skidding to a harrowing stop, Annalyn found herself at the edge of a drop. Though not quite vertical, the rocky escarpment was rather steep and jagged, and leveled only slightly before disappearing into a wall of fir-trees further down below.
"Is there another way around?" she asked with alarm, trying to catch her breath. Around them, the snow had picked up considerably, and a thickening layer now covered most of the ground.
Peering down, Haldir scrutinized the area. He, too, was breathing hard. "Nay," he finally declared, eyes on the rocks that protruded from the snow. "We cannot turn back."
Thus, with no other recourse, the two shared a brief look, nodding in mutual agreement, before making their way down with as much haste as they could muster.
Gifted with the graceful balance of Elves, Haldir could move rather easily along the slope. Sadly, such was not the case for Annalyn. Near the halfway point, her boots lost purchase, and she found herself sliding none too gracefully down a section of rock, earning several scrapes in the process.
Haldir was at her side in a heartbeat.
"I am well," she assured him, even as she inspected the angry scrape on her hand. Wonderful… When Annalyn went to gain her feet, her body protested. It seemed her backside and hip had taken a beating, too. Hardly had she risen when a worrying sound drew her attention, making her blood run cold. Heavy boots, she realised, from somewhere above them.
"They are not far behind," Haldir confirmed in a quiet but even tone. Of course, he would have heard them before she did. "We must leave. Now."
He would hear no argument from her.
While their progress had been impeded, Haldir and Annalyn managed to gain the relative cover of the trees before the Orcs reached the slope—but barely.
Their feet now on steadier ground, they fled, ran and ran for what seemed like the longest time. Still the Orcs followed them, their shouts growing louder as they narrowed the gap.
A short time later, as youthful trees yielded to old growth, Annalyn threw a look over her shoulder, and almost wished she hadn't.
Torches. At least three of them. They were close. The Orcs had gained a lot of ground. Too much ground. There seemed little hope in escaping now.
"Annalyn!" No sooner had Haldir spoken than he grabbed her shoulder and shoved. Before she could blink, Annalyn felt a soft gust of air as something rushed past her face, almost grazing skin.
An arrow.
Her heart pounding in her chest, Annalyn remained where Haldir had pushed her, behind an old, weathered tree. Stunned but grateful to be alive, she turned her gaze on Haldir, saw the sudden change in him. "Stay there." His mouth thinned in anger, Haldir immediately whirled around and started towards the approaching threat. The intensity of his gaze was startling to behold, his eyes wilder than she had ever seen them.
As he turned toward the threat, Annalyn rose on her knees, and regained her feet. Then, wanting, needing to see, she peered out from behind the tree, and watched as Haldir pressed forward.
His hand rising swiftly, he grasped an arrow from his quiver, and promptly bent his bow.
Sweet Mearas…
Being an avid hunter, Annalyn knew how to wield a bow. But not like this. In the space of a few heartbeats, Haldir nocked one arrow after the other. Two of the Orcs fell right then and there, their startled cries echoing in the forest around them. A third one fell not five feet away from him.
When three more rushed forward, Haldir switched to his sword with fluid ease, and charged.
While she had never doubted his skill as a warrior, Annalyn had never seen him in actual battle before. It was… something to see.
His footwork was incredibly graceful and swift, his blade slicing the air in intricate patterns. The Orcs never stood a chance.
When it was over, he looked in her direction—as if to make certain she was well—and then he was moving again, going from corpse to corpse to retrieve the arrows he had loosed.
As he bent to grab the last of his arrows, Haldir froze. His features hidden by his hair, he kept staring at the Orc.
Unable to decipher his expression, Annalyn frowned in puzzlement, and took a step forward. Before she could ask what was wrong, something netted his attention.
Haldir looked up at once, gazed out at the woods.
She did the same, but saw nothing. All she could hear was the wind.
"What is it?" she asked once he had risen and was making his way over with clear urgency in his steps.
His eyes were grave, his next words even more so. "They have sent riders."
Despite having slain two patrols earlier in the night, Annalyn would have been lying if she had said she wasn't afraid. Orcs were dangerous enough on their own. But riders…
Wargs were incredibly swift. Vicious creatures. She would know, having been chased by one once.
"Annalyn," Haldir all but hissed her name, his hand motioning for her to follow as he stole into the night.
To be honest, she had little left to give at this point, the taxing nature of the chase having leeched much of her remaining strength. Seeking to catch her breath, Annalyn hung her head for a moment.
You are from Rohan, she reminded herself, the realm of shieldmaidens and the proud and valiant Riders of the Mark. The Eorlingas. You can do this yet.
A gust of cold air fanned her face as she raised her chin, summoned her courage and spun on her heel to follow Haldir.
They pushed onward, but hadn't gotten very far when Annalyn discerned the first of many howls.
"This way!" Haldir called her attention when she was looking warily behind her left shoulder.
Her gaze shooting ahead, Annalyn saw that they were nearing a shallow stream that had begun to freeze along the very edges. Before they reached the gurgling flow, Haldir whirled around. His hands grasped her shoulders. "I need you to do something." He surveyed the forest as he spoke, the set of his jaw conveying just how worried he was.
"Go," he said unexpectedly, elven eyes locking on to hers. "Follow this stream. It leads to the Anduin. I will hold off the riders."
It took a full heartbeat before Annalyn was able to grasp his meaning. "You want me to leave you here?" She blinked. "What, no!"
But Haldir was not listening. "Any moment now, this place will be swarming with riders. We cannot outrun them." He gave a slight squeeze to her shoulders, his voice lowering a notch when he said, "I have fought them before, Annalyn. Many times. I shall not be far behind."
"I know what riders can do!" It was a lashing retort. Anger had surged in her being. "This is folly, Haldir!" Experienced warrior or no, he was but one man—Elf—and could very well be outmatched this time around.
Annalyn shook her head. Tears stood in her eyes. Before she could form another reply, Haldir cut her off.
"They will not follow. I will see to it." He moved away from her then, eyes trained on the forest as he readied his bow.
"You stubborn, honourable fool," Annalyn whispered miserably. Had he any idea what he was asking?
Leaving… She had made that mistake once, albeit in a slightly different situation, when she had sundered herself from her kin, thinking it was their best chance. She had been wrong, had paid dearly for it.
"No," she stated at last, and met his bewildered gaze.
"They are nearly here!" he shouted. "Go!" He was breathing hard. For the first time since they'd met, Haldir seemed genuinely angry with her. There was disbelief in his eyes, and something else, desperate and wild. It mattered not.
Resolute, Annalyn drew her sword, and readied her stance, her back to him. The chorus of Wargs had grown louder, and seemed to come from various directions. The riders were going to circle around, trapping them.
"It is my choice." Her tone was harsh, the words fracturing a little. "I am not leaving you."
What Haldir made of that, she did not know. Their time had run out. The Wargs were already here.
Her heart in her throat, Annalyn watched as the riders formed a moving ring of shadows around them. Numbering eight in all, they did not attack just yet, but merely prowled. The Wargs were growling, showing their teeth. Even without the moon, their eyes fairly glowed in the night, their irises reflecting what little light there was.
"Spying were you?" One of the Orcs sneered in a deep but grating voice. His blade rang free. "You shall see what we do with spies."
Annalyn swallowed hard, shifted her stance.
It began.
The riders set heels to their Wargs, and converged on them. One immediately tumbled by her feet, an arrow protruding from its side. The rest continued forth. She had to turn sharply to avoid being struck down.
Things sort of blurred together after that. Wargs snapped and growled. Orcs swung their weapons. How she managed to parry in time, Annalyn had no idea. But she did.
While most of the riders were focused on Haldir, one seemed to have honed in on her. As it sought to cut her down, there was murderous delight in its eyes.
Barely had she deflected a blow when the rider brought the Warg around and charged yet again. Reflexively, Annalyn thrust her sword just as the Warg pounced, and somehow, by a sheer stroke of luck, the point of her blade found its mark at the back of its throat.
Scarce believing her eyes, Annalyn freed her sword. The Warg toppled over. The rider, on the other hand, regained its feet and immediately came at her.
It is strange what can pass in the twinkling of an eye, how a memory can surface, igniting a fire under one's feet. As she parried, Annalyn thought of her kin. The Orcs. They had done this. They had stolen nearly everything from her. Anger and vengeance took over, driving her sword-hand, giving speed to her feet. She fought, furiously, passionately, with a depth of strength she hadn't known was there.
Eventually, her sword got past her opponent's guard, and she landed a blow to the side of its thigh. A furious growl echoed in the night. The Orc staggered back, allowing a fleeting look at Haldir.
There was a circle of bodies at his feet—Wargs and Orcs alike. Outnumbered as he was, he was fighting well. Very well. What's more, he was goading them, intentionally seeking the Orcs' attention by hurling insults at them.
Feral gaze darting back to her opponent, Annalyn deflected a blow, and sought to gain leverage. Alas, the Orc bested her with a sharp twist of his scimitar. Her blade clattered to the ground somewhere. Before she could react, the creature hooked its boot behind her ankle and pulled, sweeping her legs out from under her.
Annalyn went down. Hard. Then the Orc was there, crouched on top of her with its blade poised to slit her throat. "Go ahead. Scream." Harsh laughter bubbled forth. And the reek…
Cold and dirty fingers pushed her face just then, making her look toward Haldir. He was fighting still, fending off three of the remaining riders, with his back to her. "As you can see, the Elf is somewhat occupied. He cannot help you."
The creature was now sniffing her cheek. "Such fair skin," it rasped as bile rose in her throat. She was going to be sick.
"I think I shall make ribbons with it."
Refusing to give up, Annalyn struck the Orc with the heel of her hand, while the other reached blindly for her sword. At first, her fingers found nothing but snow and leaves and twigs. But then, the side of her hand bumped into something: an object, slightly bigger than her fist.
Before the Orc realised her discovery, Annalyn closed her fingers around the object, and swung, crying out as she did.
The rock smashed the side of its head with a sickening crunch. She heard it, felt the creature go slack. It was already dead before it crumbled at her side.
Disgusted and out of breath, Annalyn scrabbled to get to her feet, then sought her sword.
Turning, she saw that Haldir had dispatched another rider, leaving only two. As he parried, narrowly avoiding a Warg's vicious bite, his eyes briefly connected with hers. Relief seemed to flash in his gaze, but was eclipsed when he spun on a lateral stroke. Another Warg fell.
Annalyn was already moving, driven by the need to help in any way she could. But when he noted her approach, Haldir shot her a glance, a silent plea for her to stay where she was.
Gripped with indecision, Annalyn hesitated, took another step, then stopped. The last thing she wanted was to get in the way and lessen their chances. But staying back while he fought for them both seemed ludicrous. Stubborn Elf! she wanted to cry.
Though not as winded as one might expect, Haldir was being pressed hard. Breathing through gritted teeth, he parried to avoid the last Warg, his snow-dampened hair whipping around as he spun to slay the filthy beast.
Now only two Orcs remained. Forced to fight without their Wargs, they pressed their attacks with vengeful intensity, flanking Haldir on either side.
Enough of this, Annalyn thought with gut-twisting worry. Spurred by an overwhelming need to join in the fight, she was hastening over when something snagged her boot, nearly tripping her as it gripped tightly and held on.
A wounded Orc cackled by her feet, black blood sputtering between its pointed teeth. "Joining the fray?" Nasty fingers held to her ankle. Then, before she knew it, the Orc swung its sword-hand with the clear intention of severing her leg.
Annalyn blocked with her sword, and metal clashed on metal. As the Orc growled in rage, she immediately brought her blade around and, with a battle cry, cleaved the creature right in the face.
Her thoughts returning Haldir, Annalyn looked up at once, panting. His back was pressed to a tree. Much to her horror, he had yet to dispatch the two remaining Orcs. When one of them managed to get past his guard, Haldir saw the coming blow, made to deflect it. But too late.
His face contorting in pain, Haldir glanced toward his arm, and the red stain that was already blooming just below his shoulder. As Annalyn willed her feet to move, he gathered himself, and countered, running the Orc clean through.
For an anxious moment, the blade seemed to catch. To free it, Haldir had to push the dying creature with the heel of his foot, the effort costing him precious moments.
Though no longer than a heartbeat, the remaining Orc saw the opening and seized it. Positioned between Haldir and Annalyn, the creature readied its scimitar, holding it above its head in a two-handed grip. He was going to strike Haldir in the back. "No!" Annalyn cried even as she ran in to help.
The scimitar fell on a downstroke.
A cry of pain pierced the night.
And then silence.
Annalyn was trembling, her eyes wide with shock. On a quivering breath, she looked to Haldir, saw the same expression in his eyes.
A terrible gurgling sound reached her ears just then, and she glanced in time to see the Orc fall to its knees. Her sword, which she had driven between the creature's shoulder blades, slipped from her grip.
How she had stopped the Orc in time was beyond her. But she had.
Save for the gash on his arm, Haldir appeared relatively unscathed. Breathing hard, he beheld her as the Orc sputtered, fell forward and breathed no more.
It was ended.
