Legacy of the Dispossessed {DISCONTINUED}

From the Mouths of the Anduin

     The next few weeks were hard. It's no easy deed to survive in the wild without a bow and arrows, but I managed. Slowly, I made my way south, sticking to the river. Every day, I looked out over the river for any sign of the Fellowship, but there was none, and I grew increasingly worried. What if they've been injured? What if Frodo has been killed? What if Legolas has been killed? What if- what if Galadriel wasn't letting them leave, what if she was holding them prisoner? I wouldn't put it past her.

     I sighed and shook my head as I struck flint against steel. I was making camp for the night; the next night I would cross the river: I was nearly at the Falls of Rauros now, and could go no further. This night was my last night on the east coast, I would finally get away from the Uruk-Hai that I had suspected were following me.

     I slept fitfully that night, rising many times with a knife in my hand, hearing voices in the darkness. Many times it was just leaves rustling, but once I killed an orc that attacked me. But it was no normal orc; it had dark, marbled skin, thick strands of hair, and was taller and less stooped than a usual orc.

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     Nighttime on the shores of the Anduin was eery. No elves or men guarded its shores, and the forests were wild. I trekked through the darkness, occasionally brushing a vine or a branch out of my way.

     I squinted. Was that- was that a light? I hastened my pace. Yes, it was light amid the trees. Firelight. Was it the Fellowship? If it were... why were they at the east shore instead of the west?

     Unless... it wasn't the Fellowship.

     I decided to take the safe way and approach cautiously. With Ringil out, I place my feet carefully, making no noise. I peered through a gap in the trees to see an orc camp. Damn, damn, damn. But it was too late; I had already stepped on a stick. It cracked, loud in the dead of night, as I leaped away, trying not to make noise.

      Heads turned and orcs began to growl in Black Speech. "Find it!" their leader ordered. "Find the noise!"

     I stood there like a deer in bright light, petrified. Unable to move. There were so many of them. How could this large of an orc army come all the way here? Saruman. 

     It was only when the leader, an archer, sent a black arrow past my ear that I turned and fled on light feet. I did not have much to carry, as I had left much behind. I slipped in between the trees and the distance between me and the orcs slowly increased.

     In the darkness, I did not see the water until I stumbled into it, splashing and making a loud noise. The sound the orcs had been making turned in my direction, and the torchlight came closer.

     Cold, cold, cold. I took a deep breath and waded deeper into the icy water as the yelling and grunting got closer and closer.

      "There it is!"

      More and more arrows came past me as I tried to make myself smaller. Any time now, I would have to start swimming. I turned one last time to see the leader pushing his men into the water, but the orcs would not go. I dove into the water and began the difficult task of crossing the cold, wide river, laden with a sword.

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     Arrows continued to splash in the water beside me as I swam farther and farther, though the force behind them diminished. Swimming was easy for a while. Then the current caught hold. Swim parallel to the shore. Swim parallel to the shore. I floundered in the water, barely afloat. Gasping for air, I swallowed a mouthful of water. No. I spread my arms, trying to stay afloat. Swim parallel to the shore.