Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Legolas and the Rangers ❯ Orcs and Worry ( Chapter 4 )

Chapter 4

 

Orcs and Worry

 

Blaen sighed mournfully. Since the incident three days ago, he no longer found any joy in life. To him, the birds' voices were shrill, his water bitter and his food tasteless.

 

Why did this have to happen to him? He had never asked for it, he had always done his very best in life to help those who needed it and so on and so forth. `It just isn't fair,' he growled quietly to himself.

 

He was so lost in thought that he didn't even notice the surrounding noises of the animals go quiet. He did notice the sound of a loud scream piercing the morning air.

 

His head jerked up facing the direction of the scream from somewhere further up the path. Without a second thought he unsheathed his sword and dashed forwards.

 

As he came down over the rise of the hill, he spotted a band of orcs holding a young woman between them. Before they even realised it, Blaen had slain three of their number and a forth and a fifth quickly after.

 

The sound of their comrades dieing cries quickly alerted them to trouble and with howls of fury, they turned and began to attack Blaen.

 

The ranger swiftly ducked under the swing of an orc scimitar then managed to cut down the orc holding onto the young woman.

 

`Run!' cried Blaen. Her frightened gaze locked with his for a moment struggling to convey her thanks, fear and worry for him all at once then she hitched up her skirts and sprinted for the woods, swiftly disappearing into them.

 

Blaen's momentary need to tell the woman to run cost him, as an orc scout managed to fire a bolt into Blaen's calf. The young ranger yelled and swiftly responded by throwing the dagger from his boot through the creature's throat.

 

Blaen struggled against the overwhelming odds, neither seeming to gain an advantage or disadvantage against them. His wounded calf burned terribly and Blaen found it difficult to ignore it. He had not had to deal with pain like this before and it was fast taxing what little resolve he had.

 

Gradually he realised that something was wrong. His moves were getting sluggish and his eyesight darker. Terror spiked though him for he strongly suspected that the bolt must have been coated in some drug which had managed to work its way into his system.

 

The orcs became more and more excited as they sensed their prey becoming weaker.

 

Suddenly, an orc managed to slip under his guard and crack him hard against the back of his head with a crude club.

 

Blaen gasped and fell to his knees, his sword dropping with a thump onto the dirt.

 

Quiet now surrounded Blaen as he struggled to fight the coming unconsciousness. He could not fall his mind told him desperately.

 

But what choice did he have?

 

All of a sudden, darkness overwhelmed him.

 

* * *

 

Elrohir sighed and threw aside the book he had been reading. He could not keep his mind from wondering what had become of Legolas. Near on three weeks had passed and Legolas had most certainly been due back about a week ago. No sign of the elven prince had showed however and all of Imladris was becoming restless with worry.

 

Thranduil was already mistrustful of men after an encounter between he and the others against a band of Umbar slavers the last time Thranduil had come to Imladris. The Woodland King's foul mood was beginning to wear on them all, particularly Elladan whose temper was so alike in character.

 

Picking up an old text from the shelf next to him, he glanced at the title, noting it was a book of healing discussing the properties of herbs used by the men of Gondor. It was not a topic Elrohir was familiar with and his interest piqued, Elrohir opened the book and began to read.

 

The text was written in the common tongue, forcing him to concentrate as he struggled to learn the names of the herbs and the properties. Gradually, he forgot about his worry as he buried himself in the book.

 

* * *

 

At lunch the mood was subdued.

 

Elrohir still had the healing book beside him and was trying to memorise several of the rarer herbs found in Gondor. His thoughts were interrupted by a clatter of cutlery and his brother's raised voice. Glancing up, he was startled to see Elladan in a heated argument with Erestor.

 

`Alright!' yelled Elrond angrily stopping the argument before it could escalate any further. Elrohir did not remember ever having seen his father so irritated. `Fighting won't do anyone any good,' continued Elrond more softly now.

 

`I know you're all worried but at the moment we should just wait a few more weeks. It could be nothing or Blaen may be having trouble finding the Rangers or even catching up with them.'

 

Silence now settled around the table. Elladan kept his head lowered, his ears red with embarrassment as he listened to his father.

 

`We don't know,' finished Elrond. `But until such times, I want you all to make a special effort to tolerate one another. I will not have such ridiculous behaviour under my roof. Is that understood?'

 

The faces in the room all nodded whether royal or servant alike. `Good,' glowered Elrond who quietly returned to his lunch.

 

Elrohir eyed his brother suspiciously. He did not like the look on Elladan's face. Something about it told Elrohir that his brother was in a very dangerous mood, the kind of mood where he may attempt something very rash.

 

* * *

 

`Psst, Elrohir!'

 

Elrohir yawned and rolled over, doing his best to ignore his brother's call from the window. He was too tired to go pulling late night pranks.

 

`Elrohir!' came the persistent call.

 

`What do you want?' said Elrohir crossly as he tossed back the covers and stomped over to his brother. Elladan was perched on the window sill, his body silhouetted by the moon beyond and his hair ruffling slightly in the late night breeze.

 

`Get dressed,' ordered Elladan as he passed his brother a pack. Elrohir just stared blankly at the pack.

 

`You're not suggesting we're going to do what I think you're suggesting are you?' asked Elrohir looking at Elladan incredulously.

 

The elder twin snorted. `I think you know me well enough now to know that I'm dead serious,' snapped back Elladan.

 

`No way!' hissed the younger twin. `I am not running off in the middle of the night to look for Legolas. He's fine, O.K.?'

 

`We don't know that,' replied Elladan bluntly. `For all we know he's been attacked by wargs. Besides, we're his friends.'

 

`We hardly even know him,' growled Elrohir. `Just because we haven't seen him in seventy years doesn't mean that he's stopped being our friend,' answered Elladan stubbornly.

 

`You just can't run away and drag me with you,' said Elrohir. `Once Adar knows we're gone he'll just come after us and drag us home not to mention probably giving us kitchen duties for the next three decades.'

 

`Then we won't let him find us. Either way I'm going,' said Elladan. `All this waiting is making me crazy.'

 

Elrohir sighed deeply. He had hardly ever been separated from his twin but did he really want to get into as much trouble as he knew awaited him if he chose to go with his brother?

 

He knew he didn't but never in a million years would he let Elladan ride off into the wild alone and get into trouble without him.

 

`Alright, I'll come but this is only to make sure nothing happens to you and it's going to cost you, understood?'

 

Elladan grinned. `So long as I have you brother, nothing can go wrong.' Elrohir rolled his eyes with a long sigh. `Valar Elladan, you will be death of me yet,' muttered Elrohir.

 

`Good, now take this,' said Elladan offering Elrohir's pack a second time. Elrohir did so and set it down so he could put in some of his own clothes and get dressed for what he was sure to be a long and weary journey.

 

Quiet as a shadow, the twins left Elrohir's room and stole down to the stables where they saddled their own mounts.

 

Under the light of the stars and the moon, they made their getaway into the western forests towards the High Pass.