mithril

X.

— X —

"There they are," Tauriel whispers. We watch the Orcs race across the roofs of Lake-town. In the darkness of the night, they move as dark shadows. So do we, but our steps aren't nearly as loud as the heavy Orcs.

"Kíli," Tauriel whispers as the Orcs pause before a house. "He's in there, I can feel it." I look at her carefully.

Does she feel that tugging sensation too? Does it lead her to him, wherever he is? Tauriel, tell me what my body is trying to say to me. Why do I feel this way, like my soul will always ache for him?

"Then we should go," I answer her finally. Legolas is already moving away from us, leaping neatly across the wooden shingles in pursuit. I slide from the roof, landing with a roll on the wooden boardwalk of the town just behind Tauriel. The Elf and I make for the house, running lightly and silently with Legolas's shadow pacing with us from above.

Outside the house the Orcs singled out, someone is screaming. The clashing and clattering of things breaking rings through the open door. Tauriel's bow lifts, the string twanging subtly as she fires at an Orc beneath the lifted house. The She-Elf draws her twin knives as she leaps nimbly up the steps, chopping down another Orc before she enters the broken doorway. I follow her lead, but hesitate before entering the house.

There is a strange, resounding emptiness in my center. No tug. Thorin isn't here, even if his brethren are.

Angolain isn't for these close quarters. I reveal my own daggers, leaving the sleek sword strapped to my back. The Orcs aren't expecting us, especially when Legolas drops through the hole in the ceiling that the Orcs made themselves. The Orc closest to me shrieks as my dagger embeds in its throat so forcefully that the tip of the knife slams into the wood behind it. Black blood covers my hand, but I easily yank the blade loose and aim for another. The other Orcs are yelping and screaming as the Elves place similar killing hits. We make quick work of the company, slicing through the replacements until the reverberating black speech of the Orcs summons them away. I hear Thorin's name in those words, which makes me freeze. Legolas dashes past me, stopping at the balcony as he watches the Orcs run from us.

"You killed them all," a human boy whispers, rising slowly from the ground.

"There are others," Legolas answers. "Tauriel, Léra. Come."

I follow Legolas almost instinctively, his commanding words sending me after him. I pause when I hear groaning from the house, the sound of a Dwarf in pain. Kíli. I turn back, looking at the Dwarves. My friends. Fíli, supporting his brother, and staring at me like he wants me dead. Óin posed over the injured Dwarf with a worried look on his face. And Kíli, who looks like he won't survive the night. Tauriel is watching him with a look of fear on her face.

I move to the injured Dwarf, ignoring the protective glare of his brother. The wound in his leg is bad. Leaking thick black blood that has soaked through his clothes and onto the bed. He is pale and sweating profusely.

"Save him, Tauriel," I murmur in Elvish as I draw away from Kíli. "He will not live if you don't act now. I'll take care of the Orcs."

I leave the red-haired Elf in the house with the three humans and the Dwarves, despite the glare from Legolas. He doesn't speak to her absence as he leaps nimbly and swiftly over the obstacles of Lake-town's crowded walkways. Angolain sings into the dark night as I finally release it in the open quarters, the blade whistling as I swing it at the Orcs fleeing before us.

Legolas's bow twangs to my left as we move in tandem, making the same headway across the town after the pack.

"Léra," he calls out to me. "Go for the big one," he motions at the large Orc outlined against the buildings some distance from us. I don't respond as I leap away from the Elf, Angolain catching in the lights of the town as I go.