Stars of Varda - An Elven Love Story (Thranduil)

36. Swirling of a Storm

My first instinct is to run, but fear keeps me frozen.

The otherworldly silence shatters like brittle glass from a coming storm beyond the village. It is a crescendo of thundering feet and bestial grunts, and commands roared in a language from below the earth. The horrific noise echoes in the air as a harbinger.

My breath catches in my throat. Fire arrows race across the inky sky more numerous than the stars. Like dragon's breath, they land in tree tops, and on the roofs of the outlying dwellings. The wind picks up, as if harnessed by Sauron. A rush of heat lashes my cheeks. If the beasts do not reach us first, the fire will.

The distant screams are the catalyst to move my feet. Finding strength within, and a fervent desire to survive, I take Gwendes' and Gilrin's hands and run. If we fail to reach the cavern keep before the enemy climbs the walls, our chances of waking to another day in Middle-earth are grim.

A large group is still huddled in the courtyard, watching the scene unfold as though captured and caged. As though it is too late. Angry orange light reflects on their hair and shocked faces. I see the twin children clinging to their mother's legs as she stands immobile, covering her mouth with her hands.

I grab the mother's shoulder and address the crowd. "Run to the keep! Hurry!"

I yell the words in repetition, my voice cracking. As though woken from slumber, the gathering disperses, reaching for their loved ones and running to safety. A feverish energy propels me forward again, and helps me pull Gwendes and her mother along with my swift steps even as they lag behind. I have never run faster in my life.

"The orcs are now climbing the walls!" Tadion shouts.

I do not dare look behind. I am afraid of losing momentum, and even more afraid of what I will see.

Our feet slap the cobblestones like the frenetic pace of my heart. The practice grounds are in sight. The young soldiers I saw earlier with Tauriel are frantically putting on armor and heading towards the village, swords and bows in hand. There are not enough of them.

Fire arrows lift the darkness like unholy lanterns, flying over the trees and landing on the practice field. A soldier rolls on the ground to put out the flames devouring him, his tortured scream giving me gooseflesh.

I silently pray to the Valar for mercy. I pray for those living closest to the walls, for the brave soldiers who will give their lives to save the realm, and for all of us. Once the orcs climb the wall, there will be little time to reach safety. But the walls have at least afforded us a chance.

Relief washes over me when the river bridge comes in to view, but I do not slow. The keep entrance is open still, the sunny light from inside like the beacon of a lighthouse.

Lord Elros stands on the bridge, his arms vigorously motioning forward when he sees us. "Hurry! They are coming!"

The panicked screams heighten in intensity, mixing with Orcish and heavy tramping through the surrounding forest. There is no more time.

"They have crossed the walls!" Tadion says.

I feel a strong instinct to turn back and help. Never before have I felt more frustration over my lack of ability in wielding a weapon. If only I had practiced harder and longer, I could join Tauriel and the others, and save even one life. It would be worth giving up my own...

Gwendes' hand is suddenly yanked from mine. I whip around, terrified. She is sprawled on the cobblestone like a thrown doll, and a passerby tramples over her red hair as they flee to safety. I kneel down at her side. Her heather wool dress is torn, blood trickling down her knee. My eyes fall on the nearby jutting tree root.