The air was fresh after a light rain fall and the
weather excellent
for hunting. When Legolas asked Aragorn if he wanted to go, the young
ranger immediately accepted. However, when he realized that the
Prince’s party was intended to include Sarcaulien and some of his
friends, he began to wonder if it was a good idea after all.
Squaring his shoulders and deciding that it did not
matter who
else was going to be there, Aragorn joined the party in the courtyard
before the great gate that guarded the royal grounds.
Some of the hunters were mounted and some preferred
to walk. Aragorn
fell among the latter. Already the elves were chatting, or singing, or
joking merrily and Aragorn began to feel more at ease and able to enjoy
the prospect of the hunt.
At a command from Legolas, the huge gates swung open
on their own to
allow the party to exit. Aragorn had witnessed enough elf ‘magic’ in
Rivendell to not be overly amazed by the unusual gateway, and followed
the others out without another glance. The gates fell to behind them
and the party moved off into the woods beyond.
The first part of the day went uneventfully. Perhaps
too
uneventfully for the hunting party. They found precious little game
and,
after a time, that began to put all of them in a less than cheerful
mood. Legolas and Sarcaulien actually did manage to bring down a hart
at about midday and the party stopped to make camp so they would have
some place to leave the deer until they were ready to return home.
Several of the elves stayed behind to begin preparing the game, and the
others took the opportunity to discard their packs and extra gear in
favor of being able to travel lighter and swifter.
The mounted hunters left their horses behind at the
camp as well and from that point on everyone continued on foot.
There was some disagreement about which way should
be taken. They
were now very near the end of the closely protected areas of the
forest,
as was obvious by the growing frequency of spiderwebs and the darker
cast that the trees were taking on.
Half of the party was of the opinion that they
should stay in this
area and venture either east or west, while the other half was restless
from the long and mostly fruitless search and felt that the hunting
would be better if they ventured further south, deeper into the dark
lands. In the end, the more adventurous ones won out and the party
delved into the darker, more dangerous parts of the woods.
Here the trees were not so beautiful and the air
became somewhat
oppressive. Sometimes one could see a giant spider scurry somewhere in
the high branches above them, but the hideous creatures were always
sure to keep their distance, for they knew there was no future in
hunting elves and the Wood-elves despised the foul creatures above all
else. If any came even remotely near, they would have shot it on sight.
Legolas and the other elves were by now well used to
the fleeting
presence of the spiders and paid them no mind, but it was still one of
Aragorn’s first encounters with them and he could not help the crawling
feeling that he was given by the luminous shadow of their bulbous eyes,
peering down here and there from the branches high above.
Moving with sudden swiftness, Legolas paused, strung
an arrow and
shot it upward in one swift move. An ugly, thick-bodied spider fell to
the earth with a sickening thud, its thread severed and the prince’s
arrow through its body.
Legolas curled his lip in disdain and kicked the
creature off the
path. These spiders were the only living things upon which the
Wood-elves had no compassion, for they were wholly evil.
Aragorn skirted the ugly black body with revulsion.
He had never
seen creatures like that before. He was still looking at its large body
and disgustingly twitching legs when he felt something soft brush his
neck and shoulder. He jumped slightly in surprise and pulled away, only
to find Sarcaulien grinning condescendingly at him. The young ranger
realized with an embarrassed flush that the elf had been teasing him
and he had fallen for it.
Several of the elves laughed. "Frightened, young
one? You’d better
watch your back or the spiders will carry you away to their lairs!"
Aragorn tried to laugh with them and pretend that
they weren’t
laughing at him, but his cheeks still felt hot. "I think I’d be a
little big for them to manage."
"Oh no, they’re unnaturally strong these beasts..."
Sarcaulien shook
his head with a wicked grin. "And they hunt in packs. They can sneak up
on you from above and you never even know they’re there..."
"Hanging in the treetops above, waiting to pounce!"
one of the other elves put in helpfully.
"Why whole hunting parties have disappeared that
way," Sarcaulien
nodded. "Mummified bodies hanging from the trees... that’s all they
find..."
Aragorn knew exactly what they were trying to do,
but he couldn’t help shivering slightly at the thought.
"Sar," Legolas rolled his eyes, having backtracked
when he saw that
not all of the others were with him still. "What on earth are you
telling him now?"
"Just warning him about the woods and the spiders,"
Sarcaulien shrugged carelessly.
The elves laughed at the unintentionally wide-eyed
look that Aragorn
did not even realize was on his face and Legolas gently touched his
friend’s shoulder, trying not to smile too large himself. "They’re just
playing with you, Strider. We’re in no danger here."
"Wouldn’t be too sure about that," Sarcaulien
countered, his smile
turning hard. "The spiders might like tender young flesh like his."
Legolas’ stern gaze told the other warrior to back
off. "But you
exaggerate, my friend. Entire hunting parties?" he shook his head
dryly.
"I think not. Not unless they were some bumble-footed dwarves or orcs.
They far prefer culling out one or two loners, or individual prey."
Unintentionally, Legolas was not exactly helping Aragorn’s feeling of
comfort.
"But come, we do not hunt spiders, and there’s got
to be some game
worth catching somewhere in these woods," the prince said lightly to
get the party moving once more.
Presently they came upon the bank of a swift, dark
river and halted at the edge.
Aragorn knelt as if to take a drink, but Legolas
quickly grabbed
him and pulled him back. "Do not drink nor touch the water of this
stream, Strider," the elf warned seriously. "Enchantment flows through
it and all who do so fall into a deep sleep."
Aragorn backed off quickly, realizing how close he
had come to
making a grave blunder. He was beginning to realize that much of
Mirkwood was not a very safe, or even a very pleasant place, although
he supposed it had not always been so.
A little ways upstream, a long, slender tree had
been cut so that it
fell across the river, with an end resting on either bank. The elves
lightly jumped up and crossed the slender beam without hesitation.
Aragorn hung back, not liking to admit that he did
not look forward
to the thought of trying to cross the dark, forbidding water on the
thin, slippery trunk of the beech tree.
Legolas would presently have thought to remember his
human friend,
but at that moment a whole herd of snow-white deer bounded into view
ahead of them on the opposite shore and the elves gave a delighted cry,
finishing their crossing quickly and taking off in pursuit of the
highly prized game. For white deer were rare and hard to catch, even
for an elf. They made magnificent trophies indeed and each of the elves
was eager to bag one.
This left Aragorn alone on the opposite bank with
only the option of
trying to cross and follow the elves, or having to go back to the camp
alone. Not about to suffer the humiliation of not being able to keep up
with his companions, Aragorn made up his mind and stepped hesitantly
out onto the tree trunk. The moist wood was slippery and the round
surface hard to balance upon, but the young ranger’s balance was good
and Aragorn was surprised to find the crossing not nearly as difficult
as he thought it would be, although it did take him nearly twice as
long as it had his elven companions.
He gained the opposite bank with a feeling of
triumph. But that
feeling was short-lived because he now realized that he had been left
behind by the rest of the party and was not entirely sure which
direction they had taken.
Taking off in the direction that he thought they had
gone, he tried
to follow their tracks, but it did not seem as if all the elves had
gone the same way and their tracks crossed and confused one another.
Presently, Aragorn realized he wasn’t even sure he was following any
tracks anymore, or if he was simply seeing things where he wished to
see them.
He stopped dead in his tracks, listening for any
helpful sounds, but
heard nothing. Nothing but the eerie patter of soft, sticky feet in the
endless canopy above his head.
"Perfect", Aragorn muttered to himself as he turned
around in a
circle trying to get his bearings and locate the hunting party, "leave
it to the human to get lost."
Glowing eyes looked down at him from above and he
remembered Legolas’ words with a small chill.
"They far prefer culling out one or two loners,
or individual prey..."
Just like he was now. The young man swallowed hard
and started
moving again. He still didn’t know where he was going, but anywhere was
better than standing still.
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Legolas and the other elves pursued their quarry
until suddenly the
bobbing white tails of the deer disappeared from view around a bend.
Still following, the hunting party entered a
partially open glade and stopped just under the shelter of the trees.
"It smells wrong here," Sarcaulien whispered his
concern, watching the shaded meadow through slitted eyes.
"Where is Strider?" Legolas turned suddenly towards
the back of the
group as the tension in the elves raised a notch. He wanted the young
ranger where he could keep an eye on him if there were to be trouble
and he suddenly realized that he had forgotten about him entirely in
the heat of the chase.
"Someone has been here before us. Not long ago."
Raniean approached
the elf prince, glancing hard into the wooded area that surrounded them.
"Raniean, have you seen the ranger?" Legolas
searched the small
meadow for a glimpse of his friend. Worry coursed through the prince as
he realized that the last time he had seen Aragorn was right before
they had crossed the river. He could have kicked himself for being so
carried away that he had not thought to stay and make sure that his
friend had made it across safely. He knew that Men were less agile than
Elves when it came to crossings such as that... what if Aragorn had
fallen into the enchanted river and drowned because it put him to
sleep?
His worry spiked and he stepped quickly backward to get a better look
over the heads of his fellow hunters.
The light touch of his boot depressed a hidden
mechanism buried
under the forest debris and leaves. He heard the metallic click seconds
before the fangs of a steel trap sprung up around his leg and locked
into place. There had been no time to move. With a cry, the elf prince
fell to the forest floor. He grabbed the edges of the metal jaw and
tried to pry them apart but it was no use. The metal teeth were buried
in the soft flesh of his calf and he could not force them open. A
painful sob broke from his lips and he submitted to the contraption and
the fact that he could not escape it on his own.
"No! Wait!" Raniean called out as the hunting party
rushed forward into the glade in an attempt to free the prince.
The combined weight of the elves triggered a
secondary trap meant
for larger prey that had perhaps chanced upon whatever had been unlucky
enough to step into the steel trap. With a sound like arrows cutting
the wind, a huge net lifted its corners from the edges of the glade
capturing the elves inside its cavity and rocketing towards the trees,
suspending the small group many feet above the forest floor.
Aragorn was still cursing his bad luck at getting lost when he heard Legolas cry out. His sharp ears picked up the direction that the sound had come from and, turning left, he ran headlong through the forest, concerned only for the well-being of his friend.
Raniean tried to reach the elven blade sheathed
in his quiver, but
the net had the elves bound too tightly to even free themselves. He
spoke to the elf crushed against his side to see if the warrior could
reach his knife; they needed to get free before the ones who had set
the trap returned. He could hear the elf prince, still caught in the
trap and tangled somewhere in the press of bodies, moan with the effort
of keeping the pain at bay and it only served to heighten his panic at
being caught.
A shuffle below them silenced the warriors and they
watched as six dwarves crept into the meadow.
"By the stone!" A large, burly, dark-haired dwarf
glared up at the captive hunting party, "It’s a pack of elves."
"Well what do we do with the lot of them?" A
red-bearded dwarf
walked up closer and poked one of the elves with the tip of his axe,
"We can’t eat them. And we’re still empty-handed." He eyed the ropes
closer, warranting him a glare from the trapped elves, "From the looks
of it, they’ve ruined this net!"
"Balrain! What would we want with elves? They’ve no
meat on their
bones." The lead dwarf teased, laughing a deep throaty laugh that rang
through the glen. "Come on men, let’s leave them there. I’m sure
there’s something in these woods that would love the free meal!"
Aragorn, hearing the conversation and the coarse
laughter, had slowed
his headlong rush. Gaining the edge of the meadow he crept stealthily
around the perimeter keeping to the wooded areas and taking in the
situation. He couldn’t see Legolas but had a good idea of where the
prince was, suspended over the glade.
"Release us!" Sarcaulien spit the words fiercely at
the dwarves below them, "Now!"
The demands of the elf amused the dwarves and they
taunted their
captives, prodding the elves with the blunt ends of their weapons.
Aragorn had seen enough and his anger flared. True,
not all the
elves deserved his compassion, but Legolas was bound up in that net
somewhere. The fact that he had not heard the prince’s voice worried
him.
He moved into position behind the dwarf that
appeared to him to be
the leader of the band of small men and leapt at the stout figure.
Grabbing the short creature round the throat Aragorn snapped the
dwarf’s head back hard. The human's broadsword flashed in the sunlight
and he brought the blade up underneath the dwarf’s long beard, scraping
the hairy, thick neck with its razor-sharp edge; the element of
surprise
was on his side as the other dwarves scattered quickly. Silence fell
in the meadow.
"Looks to me like you’re having fun here," Aragorn
whispered the
words coldly into the dwarf’s ear. "Too much fun." He jerked the small
figure back and bit the edge of his blade harder against the dwarf’s
throat for emphasis. "Let them down now."
Undaunted, the lead dwarf twisted slightly in his
captor's grip and
glanced over his shoulder. Surprise was etched on every line of his
face as he took in the sight of Aragorn. The human frowned back at him,
his eyes darkened with anger.
"A human!" The dwarf laughed at the irony of a man
defending the elf
warriors. "And a boy at that. Let me go, young human, and we’ll have a
round of ale on me when we get back to the camp. You don’t want to be
with these elves. They’re an evil bunch. You can’t trust an elf!"
The other dwarves had recovered from the shock of
Aragorn’s attack
and slowly approached the two, laughing heartily at this new twist in
events.
"I say we learn the boy a lesson, Rorin!" An
exceptionally rounded
dwarf to Aragorn’s right laughed addressing the captive. "Seems he
musta learned a thing or two from these creatures, he sure caught you
good! Imagine a boy catching a Coppercryer!"
Rorin bellowed a laugh despite the metal edging his
throat. "Say, what business has a Man with Elves anyway?"
"My own." Aragorn growled, tired of the friendly
banter between the
dwarves. "Release them." His arm tightened around the dwarf’s chin,
raising the leader’s head a few inches higher.
"These elves hate your kind. They have no love for
anything but
their own lives. Do you really think they will thank you?" Rorin
glanced out of the corner of his eye at the man behind him.
"Times are changing. You never know." Aragorn
chanced a look up
towards the net and saw the elves quietly watching him. "Now do as I
say or I will take your bearded head off for you."
"Kill me and my men will kill you." Rorin sobered
immediately. He
too had had enough of the whole situation and was more than ready to
end it.
"They may kill me, but by that time my friends will
have escaped and they will kill your companions, every one of them."
"Either way you die, young human." The stout dwarf
shrugged as though uncaring.
"That may be. But it seems a fair trade to me. I may
die but my
friends will live. You and your whole company, however, will die.
Either
way you lose, Master Dwarf."
The seriousness of the situation settled on the
dwarves; they had
been caught poaching, had trapped some of the king’s own warriors and
now were in danger of losing their lives at the hands of a human.
Rorin eyed his men. Each one returned the steady gaze and Aragorn could
feel the tension rise as axes were hefted and swords were drawn from
their scabbards.
The man tightened his grip on the dwarf and pulled
the small being
up onto its toes. "Release them now." Aragorn’s voice was soft and
lethal and his eyes flashed as he regarded the odds of escaping the
confrontation alive. Whether or not he lived, he would not allow his
friends to be tormented by these dwarves or left to die suspended over
the forest floor like some hunter's unwanted catch. "Do it! I grow
tired
of asking you." As he pressed his broadsword deeper against the dwarf’s
throat, he could feel a trickle of warm blood run down his fingers.
Rorin felt it too. "Release them." He ground the
words out, glaring
at the elves trapped in the net. When his men failed to obey him fast
enough, he shouted out his order at them, "Do it NOW!"
One of the dwarves rushed to a nearby tree and
brought his axe head
down against the rope that held the net suspended, releasing the
tension and allowing the elves to fall free from the net.
Aragorn shoved Rorin away from him and crouched into
a defensive
posture, his sword held out before him as the dwarf turned on him.
"Don’t." He spit the word at the small man and slowly backed towards
the elves, placing himself between them and the dwarves.
A pain-filled cry caught his ears as the elves
tumbled to the forest
floor and he chanced a glance over his shoulder to see Legolas dangling
from the net. The steel trap, still closed about his leg, had snagged
on
the net and had jerked him to stop a few feet above the ground. The
sight of the offensive metal and the wounded prince enraged the human
and he advanced on the small company of dwarves now huddled together
and backing slowly out of the meadow.
"You had better pray that he comes to no ill end
or so help me, Rorin
Coppercryer, I will hunt you down and you will wish we had never met."
There was no taunting response from the threat as the master dwarf
stared at the human. The protective fire in the man’s eyes surprised
Rorin more than anything. Perhaps the human was right and times were
changing. He would have a lot to think over when they were well away
from here.
As the elves lowered Legolas to the forest floor,
the prince cried
out and curled over his injured leg, drawing in on himself in an
attempt to still the sharp spikes of pain that radiated through him. A
deep, ominous, crimson stain had already spread across Legolas’ torn
pants leg and now dripped down onto the ground, staining the verdant
foliage beneath him.
Aragorn heard the steel trap click as Raniean
triggered the release
and opened its jaws. He turned and saw the deathly pale face of the elf
prince as he winced in pain with the return of feeling to his leg.
Raniean glanced up and was surprised by the dangerous look in the
human’s eyes.
The ranger stepped back around the offensive piece
of metal and
kicked the trap towards the dwarves. The steel jaws clanged shut
dropping inches from where Rorin stood. It took all the dwarf’s nerve
not to flinch as the trap settled against his boot toe.
"And take that with you," Aragorn spat the words at
the poachers.
"You have no business in these woods. See to it you don’t return."
"And if you do," Sarcaulien stepped forward, his
courage regained, "pray you don’t meet up with us."
"Or what?" the one called Balrain challenged.
"You will find out what, if you return,
rockdweller," the elf replied with disdain.
The slur was not lost on the dwarf who hefted his
axe and threw the
heavy bladed weapon toward the elf. Sarcaulien had no time to move and
his own weapons were no match for the dwarf blade. Aragorn had watched
the exchange and without thinking he threw himself in the path of the
axe, bringing his sword up and, catching the weapon mid-flight, he
severed the head from the shaft. The handle fell to the forest floor
and the axe head spun wildly off into the woods missing the elves
altogether.
Adrenaline surged through the man and he spun
towards Rorin pointing
at the dwarf with the tip of his sword, "Go! NOW!" Something in the
man’s eyes, in their depth and the loyalty the boy held to the elves he
protected, convinced the dwarf to hurry his companions out of the glen.
"Real smart." Aragorn growled as he turned and
glanced up at
Sarcualien, frowning at the elf. He was breathing hard trying to get
his body to relax when his attention was drawn back to Legolas.
Sarcaulien brushed past Aragorn and knelt with
Raniean on either
side of their liege, deeply concerned by the amount of blood the
injured elf was loosing.
Hot agony shot up Legolas’ injured leg as Raniean
unwrapped his soft
leather boot from around the injury. The elf was trying to be gentle,
but when he pulled the boot off Legolas’ foot, the prince had to stifle
another outcry. Gripping his thigh above his knee, Legolas squeezed
the injured leg tightly, trying to give his body some other input to
process other than the flaming hurt of his injury.
Aragorn shouldered his way through the small knot of
elves enough to
see what was going on. Worry creased his young brow. Raniean and
Sarcaulien were trying to staunch the worst of the bleeding, but the
stain beneath Legolas’ leg was still growing at an alarming rate.
The two elves working on Legolas exchanged glances.
The prince
should not have been bleeding this badly. It should have already begun
to slow at least a little. But it was not.