To Keep a Promise

Chapter 10

The moon casts a pale glow over the plain, the mountains now dark shadows expanding like teeth to bite into the starry night overhead. A breeze rustles the tall weeds and long grass, playing with the ends of Elrohir's hair as he trudges over the flat land. He wants to stop and allow his aching head a moment to cease its horrid thumping, but he could have sworn he had heard the sound of orcs only an hour or so ago. He had been expecting the foul creatures to come searching for him but had hoped he'd be able to cover more ground by then. The original road that had brought them out into this plain and away from the trees is still many miles ahead of him, he does not feel comfortable stopping until then. If he allows himself to get captured again, he would not be able to forgive himself.

He keeps his pace quick and vehemently ignores his headache as each step makes it worse. The only true plus side is that is his clothes are now dry and no long chaffing against his skin as he jogs. The night is still and quiet his near-silent footfalls are the only sound for miles. It would be easy to hear if any foul creatures lurk nearby, but he has no doubt they follow behind, sticking to a safe distance until they perceive the opportune moment to strike. He's relieved to at least have his sword knowing if they do catch up with him, he will not go down without a fight.

His thoughts often wander to Glorfindel and how the golden warrior may fare. He prays to the Valar that his friend is not already dead, but also fears what will become of him while at the hands of such cruel beings. He has seen the damage they can inflict with his own eyes, watched someone fall apart from poisons and wounds gained by weeks of torture. He can never bring himself to imagine the same thing happening to the fallen Gondolin warrior. It is too painful and brings chilling dread that has him constantly forcing the thought away.

Instead, he listens to his breaths and watches the moon as it ever so slowly travels across the velvety dark night sky. Soon it disappears from view, but he still presses on. He does not stop as the sun rises, dispersing the chill of night as it reaches out with warm golden hands to awaken the land. It is not until his fatigued body comes to rest against a small elm tree that he closes his eyes and collapses into the grass. He feels as if he could lay here forever, the tree line now stretching before him feeling almost like a welcoming shelter of safety.

He allows himself a moment to rest beneath the rising sun before forcing himself to his feet and entering the woods. He does not head straight for the path but keeps his direction slightly pointed North. He hopes it will help him avoid any unwanted company and allow him to meet up with any elves that may be heading this way quicker. His pace is slower to aid the drum in his head and let his tense muscles relax.

He tries to think of the last time he had ever been so thoroughly exhausted. It must have been the time he and Elladan decided to see who the fastest long-distance racer was. They had trekked nearly fifty miles that day trying fervently to outdo the other. By the time they finished the long loop and returned back to Rivendell, both were so stiff they could barely move the next day. He's sure his muscles will feel much the same if not worse by the time he's finally safe and able to relax in Imladris once more.

He picks his way through the underbrush and past the trees for nearly an hour when shuffling and quiet voices in the distance suddenly catch his attention. The rasped speech clearly belongs to that of orcs who are steadily growing closer to him. He can easily make out their loud steps as they carelessly break sticks and kick debris about. There seems to be only a handful, a small enough number he can easily take them all out.

Without a second thought, the young elf quietly unsheathes his blade stepping between the trees as he seeks out the creatures. He finally spots five orcs slowly making their way towards him, unaware that he has hidden himself behind a large trunk. He waits for them to draw near and when the first orc passes by the tree Elrohir steps out sinking his blade into the soft stomach. He pulls it out quickly slashing at the second orc who defends the attack but cannot stop the blade's second strike at its throat. The remaining three step forward, weapons raised as they growl angrily at the elf before them.

Elrohir snarls himself, feeling anger flow through him fueling his movements. They attack him at the same time, one of the blades slicing into his left shoulder but he pays it little mind as he retaliates with blinding fury. One falls in a fatal slash to its chest while another is impaled by the sharp blade. The remaining orc stands with a look of fear on its face as the young elf steps forward a long powerful strike wiping its head clean from its shoulders.

With deep breaths, Elrohir puts his sword away before glancing uneasily at the cut on his shoulder. It is not deep but bleeds steadily already soaking the fine fabric of his tunic. With little else to use he rips various strips off the long sleeves of his shirt, using them best he can to make a makeshift bandage. Once he's pleased that it will stop the flow of blood best it can, for the time being, he sets back on his way knowing he cannot linger in one spot for long now that orcs have come across him. There is no way to know how many others lurk in the woods.

He suddenly feels very alone and wishes desperately Glorfindel had been able to make it off the bridge with him. It is strange not having his brother beside him to fill the tense silence and lighten the mood. He can't remember the last time they were a part for this long. He has grown so used to have someone by his side the lack of it leaves him feeling empty.

He knows if he continues on his course, it will not be long until he is reunited with his brother, and they can kill the despicable orcs that have their friend. The pain in his shoulder and head have become an afterthought as he formulates various plans of attack to safely retrieve the golden-haired elf. The only problem is he has no clue where the orcs are headed. He just prays there will be a clear trail to follow by the time he reaches help. It is the only chance they have of finding Glorfindel.

He nearly laughs bitterly thinking how excited they had all been for this trip. He had been so eager to see his grandparents and sister again. Now that feels like a faraway dream, the beauty of Lothlorien lost to him as he fears only for the present. At least they had not picked up Arwen before getting attacked and for that, he will be eternally grateful to the Valar. He prays when all of this is behind them they will be able to make the trip comfortably without any hindrance. Although Elrond will likely go with them himself this time. He can't say he would complain if his father accompanied them with the way things have turned out.

It would be much the same as when his mother had left after her capture, the twins had barely been allowed out of their father's sight for years. He blinks away tears as memories collide with the present. She had always been so beautiful and even on the brink of death she still held the same regality and ethereal glow. He remembers when he and Elladan had finally found her. Her gown had been near torn to shreds ugly, deep wounds of different kinds adoring the once smooth skin underneath. She had been kept in a dark cave the entire time, devoid of any light sept the artificial that shined from torches.

He had hope, despite how weak his mother had been, that she would survive. They had made haste to Imladris where it was revealed a poison coursed through her veins that could not be cured. He was only able to spend one more day with her before she left for Aman lest her soul flea to the Halls of Mandos first. He finds solace knowing one day he will join her again but seeing her so broken will forever haunt him.

He shivers thinking they may find his friend in the same state. Body ruined and mind near shattered. He knows the golden-haired elf is strong and has the willpower to withstand more than most. But he also knows one can only handle so much, even an age-old warrior like Glorfindel.

With dark thoughts and light steps, Elrohir quickens his pace through the woods knowing time is of the utmost importance.