The Escape

I didn't know how to react to that. Or why he was even saying this. At that moment, everything was just... too much. So I asked the only thing that came to mind, and that was, "What?"

"Forgive me," he repeated, this time in Westron.

The fact that I now understood what he had said did not change my reaction. In my mind, confusion fought with trying to make sense. What was he apologizing for? And why now? Below us, a goddamn orc horde was gathered and, judging by the smell, was roasting something over the fire, whose origin I preferred not to know in detail. I wiped the tears from my cheeks, still trying to sort out what was happening.

He misinterpreted my hesitation and lowered his eyes. Then he let go of me and moved away a bit. "I... I shouldn't have..." His voice was barely more than a whisper. At the same time, he still kept his gaze lowered as if it was embarrassing for him to look at me.

Wearily, I watched him: the little wrinkle that formed on his forehead when he was thinking about something. The way he pressed his lips together slightly. The blink that told me he was just as puzzled as I was...

Seconds passed, but he didn't finish his sentence. Instead, he shook his head once briefly as if to bring himself to his senses. Then he raised his eyes and only now seemed to notice that I had followed his entire silent decision-making process.

We stared at each other.

One heartbeat.

Two.

I couldn't look away, and neither could he. And as the orcs below us took their nightly meal, Legolas reached out to me a second time. His fingers delicately traced the trail that the tears had taken on my cheeks, as if he could still feel them. I forgot that we were sitting in a tree when he once again pulled me in his embrace, my head now against the crook of his neck. And I forgot that this was just a moment, a brief flash until he remembered his obligations and I recalled mine.

It was a stolen moment. We both knew that.

He ran his free hand through my hair, a gesture that sent little shivers down my spine. I could have lost myself in that instant, but I didn't. Instead, I asked softly, "Why are you doing this?"

I felt him swallow before he answered just as quietly, "I don't know."

"Nothing is going to have changed by the time we get back down from this tree."

He fell silent.

"Ain't that right?"

The orcs below began to argue. Noisy, aggressively. "I had every intention of staying with you until... you go where I cannot follow," he murmured.

Now it was me who had to swallow. "But your father reminded you of my shortcomings."

"Aspen…"

"Isn't that correct?"

Legolas glanced down, probably to check if the orcs were a danger or still so busy with themselves that they didn't notice us. Then he said, "He reminded me that we could never be together like..." He trailed off.

"Like you could be with someone of your kind," I finished his sentence, and couldn't help sounding bitter.

"Yes." Pause. "But I can't fathom if that's just something that's meaningful to him... or to me, too."

With a furrowed brow, I said, "What do you mean?"

But he didn't get around to answering, because at that very moment our pursuers had caught up. We heard it by the way movement came into the camp under our feet and also by the shouts. The quarrel that had threatened to escalate until just now was forgotten for the time being.

I pressed my lips together, on edge. Now it was necessary to remain calm and not let out the slightest noise. Nevertheless, I had a feeling that they would be able to hear my heartbeat. And even though I didn't really want to think that way: I was glad that the arms of the elf embraced me, held me and yes, also protected me.

Breathlessly I listened to the throaty language of the orcs. I couldn't understand it, and even though it sounded harsh, I wasn't able to tell if it was because they were angry or because the language was what it was. Cautiously, I lifted my gaze and looked at Legolas' profile, which stood out dimly against the dark sky. He seemed tense, as did I, his arms still wrapped around me, almost painfully tight.

Judging from what I thought I heard, the two leaders of the orc hordes had exchanged the first pleasantries. The question was: what would they do next? I needed to know what was going on down there, it was driving me mad to be stuck up here in the tree, trapped and helpless. So I gave the elf a tap and mouthed, "What's going on?"

He understood, but shook his head briefly. Not now. Fair enough. But how long would we remain unnoticed? Even if I didn't understand what they were saying: sooner or later the orcs would come up with the idea of searching the surrounding area.

As if they had read my mind, I heard the sounds of feet spreading out in all directions. There were enough of them to significantly reduce the number of those left behind, but that also meant that those who had left would be looking for our tracks. And if they found none, they would notice the trees.

The same thought seemed to have crossed the elf's mind, because at that moment he leaned forward to look down. My gaze followed his, but I still couldn't see anything. Damn it.

"We need a distraction." The whispered sentence barely reached my ear. "They'll be back soon. Now we'd have a chance to throw them off."

So I had been right: He feared the same thing I did. And that wasn't good.

"What kind of distraction?", I countered just as quietly.

"Anything that will allow us to escape." He let go of me and stood up. "I think I found something."

I hadn't the faintest idea what Legolas was up to, but I hoped it wouldn't break our necks. After all, I agreed with him that now was our best chance to escape. Before the others came back.

The elf balanced over the branch past me, so light on his feet that I rolled my eyes. I would have been on all fours, sliding on my knees if I would have dared, and probably still managed to fall down. Gracefully as ever.

When Legolas had moved a bit away from me, he bent down and made a grab for a smaller branch that seemed to be loose. As he did so, I noticed that there was movement in the tree across from me as well. In it sat Gimli and Beleg, if I was not mistaken. The orcs would not yet have noticed from below. The other elf's face emerged from between the leaves and they both silently coordinated. When they were done, Legolas turned and knelt down in front of me, "Beleg and Gimli will start the distraction. Once they have drawn their attention, it is up to us to climb down from this tree as quickly as possible."

"As quickly as possible, huh?" I knew that was a reference to my fear of heights, but what choice did I have? "I'll try."

He nodded. "Fair enough."

For a moment we waited, my gaze fixed firmly on the tree where Beleg and Gimli stood. What would they do? Throw things at the orcs? But with what...?

My mind didn't have to spin for long, because just when I could hardly stand it anymore, it started: One of the side branches crashed noisily to the ground. Not a second later, I saw Beleg jump from the tree, just as light-footed as Legolas. Surprisingly nimble, Gimli followed him, but tripped on the last few meters, landing on his backside rather ungracefully. However, he got back on his feet immediately afterwards.

The conversation of the orcs had ceased the moment the branch had fallen to the ground, and now that they saw their enemies before them, there was no stopping them. I heard feet trampling across the earth, hurried shouts in the direction of their scattered comrades.

"Now," Legolas said. He helped me up, and together we managed to balance back to the tree trunk fairly quickly.

"I'll go first, you follow," he said. Why it struck me just now that he was addressing me in an unformal way again, I didn't know, but it made me hesitate for a heartbeat. At that, my gaze dropped.

Petrified, I paused, my hands clasped tightly to the bark of the beech tree. Legolas did not notice, for he was busy climbing down. Only when he had already put a good distance between us did he look up again. And grasped the situation within seconds. "Look at me," he said firmly. "Right now."

I found it incredibly difficult to take my eyes off the ground, but I did. As before, it was the elf's eyes that gave me assurance, that guided me. When I finally turned and climbed down the tree, the terror of the height was not quite as intense as it had been a few seconds ago.

After almost reaching the bottom, I let go. Legolas caught me, but quickly took a step back afterwards.

We swiftly took stock of the situation: the orcs were still busy with Beleg and Gimli, not half as many as I had feared. The others had not yet returned.

Legolas' hand closed around my forearm and pulled me behind the beech tree on which we had been sitting just a moment ago. I wanted to protest, but he put a finger to his lips. "We have to leave this place."

"What about…"

"They will follow."

"But…"

"Aspen." He looked at me urgently. "They'll find the stone shards if we don't leave. Is that what you want?"

I glanced over my shoulder, in the direction where Gimli and Beleg were fighting the remaining orcs. It tore me up inside, but Legolas was right: we had to go or they would get what they were looking for. And then it would all have been for nothing.

"They have the situation under control," Legolas piled on. "Both Gimli and Beleg are experienced fighters. Hurry now." His hand slipped from my upper arm and into mine. Then he pulled me away from the noise of battle and across the grove of trees.

We stopped at its edge. The elf narrowed his eyes, stared into the distance for a second, then said, "They're far enough out."

"Far enough out for what?"

"For us to make it to the foothills of the Greenwood."

"So we return to your father's realm. Celeborn will be waiting for us there."

"No." He stretched out his arm and pointed in the direction where I suspected the Greenwood to be. "We'll keep to its edge, always in the shelter of the trees. This is far off enough from the borders of the Woodland Realm that we'd be stopped by guards."

With a quick gesture, I ran my hand over my face. "And then?"

"To the east."

I said nothing to that, for he was the one who knew Middle Earth better. But I couldn't shake the feeling that we were running away. We had been all along - ever since we had come to the borders of Lothlórien. And I didn't like that at all. It was as if we were walking in the dark and as if our - or should I say my - enemies were always one step ahead of us. We had to turn the tide or we would be caught in their net.

"Come," the elf said, and together we jogged off, at an easy pace, until we were back on the grassy plain.

I couldn't see the foothills of the Greenwood from here, which was because it was still misty. But we seemed to be closer than I had assumed.

Twenty minutes later, the first outlines of trees peeled out of the veils of fog, and the tension that had been tenaciously driving me along so far lessened. I was about to let out a relieved sigh when Legolas stopped abruptly. I followed his example, anxiously listening to the silence, but I could not make out anything.

"What...", I began in a low voice, but he raised his hand. More seconds passed, then an arrow whizzed past my right ear.

Legolas yanked me back. I staggered against his chest, having barely realized what was happening, when a second was already fired. It missed the elf by a whisker.

"Get down," he hissed.

I did as I was told and dropped into the protective thick grass. Legolas lay right beside me.

We listened.

Breathlessly.

It wasn't long before we heard voices. To my surprise, they were not orcs. They were…

"Lothlórien's guards."

No way! I was tempted to raise my head, but didn't. Still, how dare they shoot at Legolas? That they didn't care much for me, I had expected, but to take Thranduil's son under fire so close to the borders of his realm was... wild. To put it mildly. If they didn't shy away from that, they would go much further.

The elf's hand settled on my shoulder. I turned my head and saw him nodding toward the forest. The message was clear: we had to escape, and we had to do it quick.

But how? Celeborn's soldiers were so much more dangerous than an orc horde would ever be. They could probably hear our breathing already, or just mine. Circling us. On the verge of finding us.

"Now." With a strength I didn't think Legolas had, he pulled me to my feet. And then we were running. Faster than I had ever run before.

Adrenaline rushed through my veins.

I heard nothing but my heartbeat pounding in my ears.

We hit hooks like rabbits, sometimes left, sometimes right, then straight ahead again. The forest was within reach, but still too far away for us to escape under its roof.

"Get down!"

I heard the whizz of the next arrow, but wasn't able to react fast enough. Or so I thought, until I was knocked off my feet by a body colliding with mine and fell back into the grass with a small yelp. Earth and rock that lay among the grasses scraped across my skin, tearing it open. But the arrow had missed me. That was all that mattered.

Hastily, I rolled over to see how Legolas was doing. It had been he who had thrown himself between me and the arrow, preventing it from drilling into my spinal cord. Perhaps we had been lucky and he had been able to deflect it.

But the arrow had not been deflected, I realized with horror as I looked at the elf. No, it had hit him, straight in the shoulder.

Shit. What now?

He took the decision from me. Instead of staying down, he rolled over to face me. "We need to get into the woods." His voice sounded strained, I clearly heard the pain in it. "Or they're going to…"

The sound of battle erupting behind us, silenced Legolas mid-sentence. We wheeled around, the elf carefully lifting his eyes just a millimeter above the grass.

"Gimli and Beleg?", I asked hopefully from our hiding place, but he shook his head. "The orcs. They attacked Celeborn's henchmen. They're distracted."

"This is our chance!"

"Aye." With a groan, I scrambled to my feet and offered Legolas a hand to help him stand up with his injury. But he managed without my help. As soon as we were both standing, I took a quick look back: indeed. At a distance of barely more than fifteen meters, I could dimly see figures fighting. My God, we were lucky in our misfortune.

More limping than running, I stumbled on. I had banged my knee when I fell into the grass. It burned badly, but this wasn't the time to complain. We had to get into the forest.

But as if fate wanted to take away the hand that had just been offered to us, the outlines of five orcs emerged from the haze in front of us without warning.

We stopped as if rooted to the spot. We could neither move forward nor back, and it would only be a matter of seconds before they noticed us.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Legolas draw his knife with his healthy arm. My heart leapt into my throat, but I did the same. The little blade Earun had used to teach me self-defense, Beleg had given back to me after we left the Silver Lake.

As if he had sensed I would need it.

"Turn your back to me," Legolas said, "that way we'll give each other cover."

Our grace period was over: the orcs had not only seen us, but were already attacking. Had drawn a circle around us. Clutching my hand tightly around the knife, I tried to steady my breathing, but to no avail. However, my fear turned into cool calculation at the sight of our enemies rushing at us. Suddenly I became calm, focused. I knew it would be either them or me. And I wasn't going to die on this field. Therefore, I had to pick one of them that I would be able to manage. Could manage. There was only one big one among them, which was our luck.

My gaze darted from one to the other as they approached. It all happened within a matter of seconds. Then I saw it: one of them slightly dragged his leg, coming right at me. He was the one I would take on.

I waited a few more seconds, the elf behind me, letting the orc come closer, before I attacked. I applied all that Earun and also Legolas and Gimli had taught me: I dodged his right hook, ducked, his injured leg fixed in my sights.

And stabbed.

The orc cried out, surprised, and buckled away. A better opportunity would not come my way. I did not hesitate, and was upon him in a single leap.

My knife was first at his throat, then in it. I yanked it back again as blood poured down on my arm. My enemy staggered to the side, collapsing to the ground. His gasps sent cold shivers down my spine. For a heartbeat, I watched him as he bled to death, paralyzed, before a scream snapped me out of my terror: "Look out!"

Quick-witted, I turned to the left and the blade of the next orc ran into thin air. I had no time to think about the fact that I had just killed, for my own death was far from off the table. Still, I knew I was in shock. That I was functioning because I had to.

My quick reaction had saved me from the second attack for now, but in return I had let the orc run directly in Legolas' direction, who was now fighting the last two remaining enemies. Despite his injury, he was as feline and agile as ever.

Nevertheless, one of them spotted the arrow in the elf's shoulder, grabbed it, and pulled Legolas around with it. A scream so full of pain that I winced on the inside tore the night apart. I saw the arrow break off, but the momentum had been strong enough to knock the elf off balance. The orc held him from behind, Legolas' chest now defenseless against the second foe.

He was going to kill him if I made no move.

And I might never have a chance to ask him what he intended with what he had said to me last on the tree. I wasn't going to fucking let that happen.

So I rushed forward.

"Aspen, don't!"

But it was too late. The orc who was dangerous to Legolas now had his back to me.

Two more steps.

One more.

Then I pushed myself off the ground and leapt at him from behind. My knife drilled into his neck muscle. The orc howled, trying to shake me off, but I had wrapped my arm so tightly around his throat, partly to keep from falling back down, that he couldn't get rid of me.

But I hadn't been quick enough: He had already lashed out, throwing his blade at the elf.

What happened next, whether it hit him, hurt him, I couldn't see, because the orc whose back I was hanging on to spun around in another attempt to shake me off.

The fear that I thought I had under control turned into anger. A rage so powerful that it threatened to consume me from within. Why was I being chased like a rabbit through all of Middle Earth? Why had I come here in the first place? And why did I have to keep fighting for my damn life? It wasn't fair! I had never asked to have these trials forced upon me.

The grip around my enemy's neck tightened even more, his resistance grew stronger, stronger, then weaker.

He staggered.

And slumped to his knees.

I did not let go. The anger in my chest thundered. Now, at this moment, I wanted to hurt this creature as much as it wanted to hurt me. It felt like a primeval instinct that kept me going, pushing forward.

When the orc's body finally went limp under my grip, I pulled back as if I had burned myself. Moved away one step, then two more. Yet I couldn't take my eyes off the lifeless shell that lay in the dirt in front of me. Only now did I truly realize what I had done: I had ended two lives within a few minutes. Just like that. Because otherwise it would have been my own. The thoughts in my head were screaming so loud that I couldn't hear anything else.

Slowly I looked down at myself: my arms and hands were stained with blood, scratches and grime. My muscles were trembling. And I felt dirty, as if I were in a fever dream. Except I wouldn't wake up from it.

Then I remembered Legolas.

With my heart pounding frantically, I turned around, looking for and finding him. He was lying on his side, not far from me. His eyes closed, his hair half on his shoulder, half on the earth. I rushed to him, dropped to my knees, and began searching his body for injuries. The broken arrow was still in his shoulder, the tip sticking out in front. But the orc's blade wasn't stuck in the elf's body, it was lying half a meter away from him.

Relief washed over me like an ocean wave.

By being deflected, the blade had not pierced Legolas' body. Instead, the heavy pommel of metal must have knocked him out. The blood clot that snaked down his temple from a forehead wound told me so.

Carefully, I felt for his pulse and found it, steady under my fingers. So he was still alive. Thank God. I just had to wake him up. Gently, I put my hand on his healthy shoulder and shook him. Careful at first, then more forcefully, but he didn't budge. Not even a groan. Damn!

Only now did I notice how very quiet it was.

Far too quiet.

Slowly I raised my head, trying to block out the chaos in my mind, if only for a second. It was true: an eerie silence had settled over the grassy plain. A silence that did not bode well. What had happened to the fighting elves and orcs? Why wasn't I hearing them anymore? It could have been hours or just a few minutes since the orcs attacked us - I had completely lost track of time and space.

It took me only a moment, then I had made up my mind: I would not be able to find out what had happened. But I had to get us out of here. The elf was too heavy for me to carry. But we were not going to stay.

So I had only one option left: I positioned myself over Legolas in such a way that I could turn him. Then I took a deep breath. The thing I was going to do next would hurt him. But I saw no other way.

With all my remaining strength, I rolled him to the side so that he came to rest on his injured shoulder. Something in me had hoped that would be enough, but he continued to lie limp and motionless.

Fine. Then for the hard way. I bit my lip, hesitated. But it needed to be done.

With my brows narrowed I pushed into his wound with my left hand and smacked him with my right. "Wake up already, you darn elf!"