The King's Heart (Thranduil Fanfiction)

Chapter 21

(Thranduil)

The spiders came at us from all sides, and I was immediately glad I gave Rhovanel that medicine. A spider had launched itself at me, before I could pull a blade, the beast had an arrow between its eyes. When I turned to thank her, there were already three more spiders approaching.

I was running ways to escape this through my head, but none seemed possible. There were at least fifty spiders in the area, they rarely travelled in smaller groups. Other guards were miles away, and spiders can outrun an elf on almost any day. The kingdom was miles away and no one good would come to our aid if we screamed for help. The few weapons that we had were good, but between the two of us there were maybe thirteen arrows, six daggers, Rhovanel's twin blades, and my two short swords. Not much for fighting fifty spiders.

I stabbed the first two beasts that came upon me, spinning away from their carcasses and up into the tree. I jumped on top of the third and drive my blade through its abdomen, then use it as a mount. I pushed the blade forward and crashed into two more spiders, sending them sprawling toward Rhovanel's shining blades.

She is fending off spiders as easily as I am. I can see the strands of webbing in her hair and I can see the specks of dirt and blood and sweat on her face. Spiders are giving her a wide berth, keeping clear of her blades. They appear to be shrouded in fire, they glow so brightly. I knew elvish blades can flow blue when orcs are near, but I have never seen one glow like fire.

I am still marveling at Rhovanel's blades when I hear the sound of an Orc-horn. It pulses through my spine and rattles my teeth. The spiders screech and back away from us and the sound of the horn.

"Rhovanel! Do not tell them who you are," I whisper furiously to her. We are standing back to back, waiting for the legion of orcs to surround us. The spiders have created a ring over us, blocking an escape through the trees. running would be pointless. All we could do now is hide blades and hope for a chance to escape.

"We will survive this, I know if anyone can, it will be us," she whispers back.

I can hear the sounds of feet trampling through the leaves before I can see the army of orcs that surrounds us. Most are snarling or growling, the few that aren't are drooling. Senseless creatures. I am straining to hold myself back when the biggest orc I have ever seen steps into the ring.

He is at least as tall as any elf, twice as wide, with bulging armor and a massive blade that is shaped like a bolt of lightning and shimmering with a slimy green ooze. On his head I can see the resemblance of a crown, but it is laden with blood and made of bones. They seem vaguely human, but I would rather not know their origin.

"So we have finally caught the Elven King!" he booms, spitting the last two words. "And the lady of Lothlórien!" My heart drops. How could he know of Rhovanel? I had not known at first.

"You are both invited to spend an indefinite amount of time at our camp," I smirk.

"Surely you would not want two trained elves in your camp, left to cause all kinds of mayhem and disaster? Would it not be easier to kill us now?" It would be more merciful than anything they have planned, but the fact that they have not already killed us makes me think they will not, not until they get what they want.

"Elves of your prestige are not deserving of such cruel fates! No, you shall be treated with the finest luxury we orcs can offer!" he yells, making the army laugh. It is a terrible sound, orc laughter. We may as well be surrounded by birthing cats for all the screeching and hissing they do.

"Bind them!" the lead orc commands. We have no choice but to comply or be beaten, and that will not help us escape later. I watch as they tie Rhovanel's hands behind her back and wrap several lead lines around her legs and neck. Her twin blades have disappeared, but they are not among the daggers they removed from our hiding places. In fact, they are the only blades we have that are not there.

There are more orcs tying me up than there were for Rhovanel. My hands are bound to my sides so that I can hardly move my fingers. My legs have less rope between them, making my steps choppy and forced. I have a slipknot around my throat and it is pulled so taunt that it is hard to breath. I feel several thick ropes around my waist as well, but they don't really seem to do much.

There are resounding cheers of 'we got the king!' and 'the age of the orc has begun!' and all I can do is shake my head. Even if they kill us, there are others to lead. Legolas will be crowned king and will be robbed of a childhood, but he will still be king. The age of the orc will never come to pass.

As we are lead toward the Orc camp, I can not help but think of Annoneth. I wish I could get a message to her, tell her to attack early. But I know she will not. She will follow the orders she was given: attack in one week. It has only been three days.

"Hey, watch this," I hear an Orc snicker. He is one with a rope around Rhovanel's ankle. The rope is yanked, sending Rhovanel into the dirt. I try to lunge at them, but am forced to stop on account of the rope at my neck. The Orc that holds the rope around my neck pulls hard, pulling me away from Rhovanel and shoving me to my knees in front of the big orc.

"Got a bit of a soft spot have we?" he sneers. "I will remember that." He moves his hand toward my face, as if he is going to lift my chin, so I snap my teeth at him.

"I will kill you, and I am pleased to say it will not cost me one bit of sleep," I snarl, making the Orc laugh.

"Go ahead and try, elfling. I am stronger than all my kin, and much, much smarter. There will be no convoluted escape or rescue. You will do exactly as I say, or I will burn everything you love," he snarls back.

We are pushed to the camp, which has tripled in size. It has expanded much farther into the forest than I had ever thought it could, and there are several bonfires burning among the trees.

We are paraded through the ranks of orcs, who are cheering and throwing mud at us. A large tent is just ahead and two large trolls guard the doorway. They step aside for us, and we are pulled into the leftovers of our raid.

There are stacks of orc bodies that make a seeping wall of flesh, and I glance at Rhovanel, thinking she would have tears in her eyes. But she is just as serious as me and I see not even the slightest hint of remorse of fear.

"Make yourselves comfortable, you will be here a while," the big orc says with the slightest hint of amusement in his tone. I glare at his back as he leaves the tent. Our bindings have not been removed, and we are surrounded by several guards with short bows. They will not hesitate to kill us, nor will they think about the risk to their comrades if they should miss.

I slide next to Rhovanel. I rub my shoulder against hers, the only kind jesters I can manage with the ropes around my arms. She smiles and nudges me back.

"We are going to survive this, I know we will," I whisper to her. She only nods, and I can tell she is already thinking of a way out.