Unspoken ( A Legolas Love Story )

20: Before the Night Falls

The following week, the leaves on the large oak trees were starting to curl and fall to the floor. Winter would not be long in coming. Legolas sat outside one of the cabins on roughly hewn logs, with some of the older Rangers in the village; Berengil, Daernon and Asvard. He listened contentedly, and with some amusement, as they discussed the best spots to find trout in the small stream that ran through the forest. As well as arguing about the best tickling-technique for catching them.

Wren approached them and after listening to the men for few minutes, said with a grin and a raised eyebrow, "You know of course that it is quicker to shoot them, than make friends with them?"

The men guffawed and held up their hands in dismissal of her suggestion. She laughed and turned to Legolas and in her easy way, she asked, "Do you fancy an early rise tomorrow morning? Strider asked me to go and survey the ravine to the east of the forest with another ranger. We have poor visibility of it from the ridge, and so a thorough assessment of it is long overdue."

Legolas felt his insides twist inside of him, conflicted with a strong desire to go, but having just previously obligated himself to another task.

"I wish you had asked me earlier, but Beringil asked me to inspect the arrows and bows in the weapons store and help him improve them..." He nodded in Berengil's direction, who was still talking about fish.

Legolas thought he saw a flicker of disappointment in her eyes, but she answered lightly. "No matter, I will ask Rodorin or Faolán to come."

The next morning, Legolas was assessing the weapons in the armory and discussing the finer details of arrow design with Beringil, when his ears pricked at a long sharp whistle in the distance that suddenly stopped short. He paused and looked to the forest, as Beringil began a solitary conversation about whether they should be using yew or mallorn to make the Ranger's bows. As there was no obvious cause for alarm, Legolas continued in his task, mildly distracted but not acknowledging his own sense of unease.

Some twenty minutes later, Rodorin ran breathless and bleeding into the village. He had clearly run some distance, and he was alone. There was a large gash on his upper right arm.

As he gasped to take a breath, one garbled word left his mouth; "Wren."

Strider, who had left his cabin at the commotion, was upon Rodorin in few paces. He nearly shook him, as the urgency rang in his voice.

"What happened!?"

"The ravine. Orcs, dozens of them! They've taken her-" he spluttered as he gasped, heaving between breaths. "I slept in... she left without me."

Before Strider could stop him, Legolas had lunged towards Rodorin, grabbed him by the neck and lifted clean off the floor.

"You abandoned her?" he spat with disgust, a rage inside him building like a ferocious storm.

Strider placed a strong hand on Legolas's forearm and with face close to Legolas's own and his eyes earnest, said in elvish;

"Peace my brother, this does not help her..."

Legolas let Rodorin fall to the floor, leaving him gagging. By the time Rodorin had caught his breath again, Legolas was already at the edge of the forest with Strider and several other Rangers in pursuit.

Legolas ran, with Strider hard on his heels but falling behind. He was focused on reaching Wren; and he did not care who was with him. He ran for some time. At the sign of the first dead orc he pulled up to a sharp stop, looking all around, searching for signs of life.

As he stepped over the corpse, bow drawn, he saw another and another; seven dead in all. Wren had done some significant damage but she must have been overwhelmed. His sharp eyes noticed flash of red on the ground, almost indiscernible among the puddles of black orc blood. It was if his heart had been pierced by one of his own arrows. His bow arm wavered. When he felt an arm on his shoulder from behind, Legolas spun and almost loosed his arrow at Strider.