"Bellorn! Yrch! Yrch!", a maiden cried out..
"Nor! Norolim Faineth!", an elf answered with rising panic in his voice.
The secret paths were no longer safe, where the Elven couple had thought themselves in a sanctuary until they would leave from underneath the canopy in the western reaches of Rhûdaur.
Had they not traveled these paths through the long centuries? Free to sing and laugh as they gazed upon the stars above and admired the mighty oaks around? It was so no longer, the path was overgrown with a lack of use, the singing had died as they were about to and the laughing belonged to Orcs in hot pursuit under a dark sky they had mistaken as an aid on their journey to Imladris and thereafter Lindon. The trees still stood, though they were cruelly marked by the hewing of axes. One of which was still stuck in the bark it had been planted in. Bellorn's heart bounced in his throat, he looked over his shoulder and ran straight into the mud caked handle. The crude axe came loose, his hands managed to grab the tool. He was not one of the great warriors among his people of which history had remembered and counted so many. How he wished in this dreadful moment he were.
He heard the whimpers of Faineth and he himself wept tears of sadness, but not despair. It couldn't be long ere the fangs and claws were upon them, though he knew the terrain here and he was going to use it to his advantage. "Faineth glenn foeir nin mel! Breg!" And heeding his call she sped to her right and jumped down among the mighty roots curling up out of the soil where a hundred or so years before a flood had washed in. The tree had withstood the storm and Bellorn could not imagine a more fitting place to make his stand. He hopped down as well a mere instant from a warg jumping out of the ferns and bushes to snap its jaws where his head was. Drool splattered all over the Elf's golden hair, it's hot stinking breath upon his neck. Then through the tangle of roots Faineth could do naught but clutch at her heaving chest. Her beautiful silvery hair sticking to her sweating brow. How long had it been in the history of Middle-Earth that Elves were hunted so?
The warg jumped down and in moments two more joined. They were black creatures, beady eyes like coals that were dimmed from all light. They growled and by some intelligence they knew not to make for their game so long as the elf had that axe in hand. Their bulk would not be able to fit through, so they waited and both Elves could swear the hairy monsters were barking with laughter. Then the Orcs themselves came running, disgust beset Bellorn upon their sight.
"Hraghn!", the first uttered while he pulled a red cloth from his pockmarked face, "What's this? Two doves caught in a cage?" Another lanky creature with ears and a fat nose full of rusty piercings let out a shuddering laugh, "Forgot to fly?", that one asked. Then a third, obese and barely able to move his jaw what with all the chins in the way could only open his mouth far enough to lick his lips with a dark purple tongue, bright yellow eyes on the she-Elf. "Kill the one with the axe. Then we'll have sport with the she-creature after!", the lanky one said. "Wait, what about the others?", red cloth asked, "They want some action too and you know what happens to those who hold out!" The lanky one grunted with frustration, "Hardly enough to share between the six of us.. Hrgn!" The fat one put a horn to his mouth and let out a foul blare that assaulted the ears of any who'd hear. They relished upsetting the many birds that rushed from the trees around.
"Stand down Orc!", Bellorn said in Westron, "Know that our lives will not be sold cheaply!" The Orcs looked at one another, then they started laughing.
The night went on as they stood there. With naught to do but remain in their shelter. More Orcs and then another warg or two appeared from the darkness. Before long there was a small army of them about to set up camp there and then simply to enjoy the growing despair of their captives. Though they were too hungry for such petty tortures, amusing as they might find it. Now with at least twenty Orcs and seven or so wargs they felt comfortable enough to try and get their prize. "Go get 'em you rats!", the lanky one commanded as he closed in too drawing a black curved blade covered in rust and all manners of filth. Bellorn had no choice. As several Orcs stabbed their assortment of swords and staves forward so did Bellorn ward them off as best he could. He slashed wildly around himself. The Orcs did not seem so certain all of a sudden, but such was their nature, cowardly when faced with any potential threat like an Elven warrior pretending to be a clumsy oaf to take them off guard. They took it slow and sure enough as one of them eventually reached too far the axe came down chopping into his forearm. The Orc howled in pain as he reeled back while blood ran through his fingers to try and stop the bleeding... "Rarrgh there is fight in you little bird! But you've given yourself away I finally see it now! You two!", the lanky Orc gestured for two others, "Start chopping into the roots!" "What?", Bellorn asked in spite of himself. "Hah, your axe.. you gave it away, you are a bit too clever ey? Not for long!", the Orc said with a mocking tone. Bellorn had no choice, he wanted to live, though Faineth would not fall in their hands and he was not going to wait for them to be exposed! "Aurë entuluva!", he cried and chopped blindly ahead of him as he charged out! He managed to wound another one, but then a warg pounced and tore into his fair skin! He cried in pain and horror, swinging the axe back to ward the beast off. He heard Faineth scream out his name, yet he was already falling whilst the Orcs jumped onto him and mercilessly hewed into his flesh. Bellorn was no more. The Orcs stepped back and almost could not believe it, "It was sort of odd that he did not have one of those pretty knives they wield yeh?", red cloth asked. The lanky Orc scratched his head, "Usually we lose half of ours too.." Faineth barely dared to breath. No avail as the lanky Orc reached out, "Well! All the better for us and all the worse for you!", his dirty hand grabbed her by an ankle and she was pulled out in the open. Her beautiful blue dress pulled through the muck as tears ran from her cheeks. "What shall we do first with you?", the lanky one asked, "Oh such pretty legs. Or maybe we'll do something to that face of yours first!" He reached out and she felt his iron grip squeezing her face, those hideous eyes admiring and loathing her in equal measure.
Then a roar burst out from behind. The lanky Orc grunted, "At ease! You lot get to have your supper in a bit!" But that is not where the roar had come from. Within an instant an enormous mass of hair and claws sprinted among them. Before they well understood what happened three Orcs lay dead! Torn to ribbons! As fury consumed the beast it went on a rampage that sent most of the other Orcs flying with their limbs torn off! Faineth crawled away as the Orc holding her was lifted off his feet with a yelp and slammed into the ground again with enough brutality to hear a dozen bones break at once. She hardly dared to look for she knew that this creature was likely no friend and would make no discriminations between her and the murderers of her beloved. She felt its hot breath slam into her she noticed it smelled sweet like honey, but it let her be for the wargs now jumped it from all sides! It was a hideous onslaught! A warg tried to bite its throat out, though a clawed paw slammed its head into the ground while leaving deep bleeding grooves in its face. Another warg bit the creature in the flank and scratched deep with frantic energy, splatters of red and clouds of hair went everywhere! Despite its howls of pain the massive being decided to roll sideways flattening the warg underneath its body. In all her long life Faineth had never seen anything of the sort and she crawled to Bellorn's body. He was indeed dead.
The massive creature sank its teeth into a third warg's snout to immobilize it. It pawed ineffectually while the bigger beast wagged its head to deadly purpose. It let the warg go while sweeping up on its hind legs and swatted the warg with such hideous strength that it was entirely lifted from the ground and slammed into a tree. After all of that only two Orcs and four wargs were alive.. red cloth and the fat one were among the survivors. "It's one of them! The rumors were true!" , red cloth yelped with rising panic! The massive beast shook its head while gasping for air. "It's tired.", the fat orc spat out. "Well let us go get this one then! Quick before he recovers!" The beast roared with fury and charged a gap right into the line the Orcs and wargs had made. Red cloth was trampled underfoot and the warg behind him found its nose and eyes sliced away by claws that outmatched its own. It whined and sprinted off in pain and fear while the others jumped from both sides. The mighty beast spun and this time the fat Orc died from a headbutt that split his skull near in half. But now a macabre dance of death took place, Faineth dared herself to behold the battle after seeing Bellorn who had so bravely fought for her. She saw the beast for what it was, a large brown bear, though she had seen bigger throughout her long life. Three wargs were on top of its back, jumping away from its claws and bites. She could tell that the bear would not survive even if it won the fight. "Bellorn, hi na-an ci.", she said as she took the axe..
The brown bear pushed its chin in its chest and made a roll that forced the wargs to jump clear once more, two of the monsters were on top again ere the larger beast could complete its tumble. Though by luck more than anything the first warg that had pounced forward now found a set of claws sinking into its heart. Then one bit in the skin of the bear's neck behind the ear while the other went for the throat. The bear's eye widened with surprise until the warg going for the kill spasmed in pain and missed its bite. It fell underneath the bear and within less than the blink of an eye the brown beast crushed the black howler with its sheer weight. The last warg kept tearing until the bear rolled sideways again, flattening the warg for a moment and then finishing it off with a series of enraged sweeps of its claws that tore open the warg's belly, spilling all the contents within over the forest floor.
Then as the final warg died the bear would turn to the she-elf.. she raised her hands in front of her, "Cin baur ú- nifred nin." Whether it was that she was a she, an Elf or for helping in the fight the mighty bear did not slay her. It merely sank through its shaking legs and dropped on the cold ground.
--
Faineth had shared her farewells for now to her beloved knowing she would see him again in the Undying Lands. For now though she chose to live. She looked at the massive man that had appeared out of the greenery after she had chosen to apply her healing arts on the bear that had come to her rescue, be it intentional or not.
The man did not speak Sindarin and she had never needed Westron, but such did not seem to be important. He had led her to safety and she recognized the valley that would lead to Imladris, she had made it safely. He had all but given up on trying to explain her things through speech, though with gestures he could make her understand that is where she would find her kindred.
Pointing a finger to the path, gesturing with pointy fingers held next to the ears. She understood.
She placed her hands on her chest, then her fingers on her lips and blew him a kiss. The man did not show a sign of understanding or a lack thereof. Instead he leaned on a branch the size of an Elf. He would spare his eyes for her a little longer until he was certain she was close enough.
As she had passed the Bruinen two Elves on white steeds came running and by that time Vilmott had left and found himself with some of his brethren.
"Will he live?", Vilmott asked. "I have never seen such medicine as she produced from the plants.", his kinsman replied, "I- I think he will live. Why did you let her live?" Vilmott shrugged, "She attacked the foe, she paid toll!"
