Storm Of Arrows ➝ The Lord of the Rings ✓

Part Thirty-Three

PART THIRTY-THREE ~

Four Weeks Later

Taryn hummed a soft tune as she stalked through the forest, her boots treading thickly on the withered leaves obscuring the path beneath. Strapped round her shoulder was a quiver of arrows, and in a tight grip she held her bow. Archery was now a skill of hers, after having shown her natural talents during training sessions with some of Rivendell's most talented archers.

The Uruk-hai trekking along the High Pass had been dealt with little over a week ago and Arendyll had left two days after Legolas' own departure, after avoiding Taryn for the remainder of his stay. She had felt somewhat guilty at the time, but now the thought of him hadn't even crossed her mind. Legolas had, however. Every day she thought of him; he'd have reached Mirkwood by now, and was most likely under suspicion of rescuing her from a certain death. Or perhaps not, and the entire matter was completely forgotten. Perhaps she had been wiped from everyone's mind, even Legolas'.

No, he promised he would come back for her; he still had her locket. He won't forget.

He'd never forget.

The same thing she'd been telling herself as each day passed.

Presently, however, her thoughts were solely trained on the target before her; a withered tree, it's protruding roots gnarled and twisted, coiling through the undergrowth, it's flaky bark peeling from the profoundly small trunk, it's branches deserted of any foliage. Taryn wouldn't dare harm any live organism within the forest, and this was the only target she knew of within the enclosure of trees.

Gritting his teeth and gaining a steady posture, she brought up the bow before her and deftly knocked an arrow with a fluid movement. Hovering it in aim for the trunk, she drew back the string, controlling steady breaths, and released, feeling a sense of satisfaction as it wedged itself into the leathery bark. Flakes of the trunk, chipped upon impact, sparked through the air. The resounding thwack still ricocheted through Taryn's head as she stepped forward to retrieve her missile.

But she was stopped short, her breath caught in her throat.

Voices.

Gruff voices, seemingly spoken in the common tongue with a heavy accent. To Taryn, these voices brought only dread, and perhaps hate. Yet no fear gripped her, for she was armed with a bow, and still undiscovered within the shade cast by the trees.

Orcs.

No. Even worse; Uruk-hai.

But it can't have been - they were killed a week ago! I witnessed it!

As she crept closer without a sound, she was able to discern a quiet conversation amongst the mindless chatter of other orcs.

"D'you think it's going to work, Algred?"

"What, Adahon?" Algred growled, it's beady, pig-like eye glancing sceptically at it's partner.

"Capturing the prince an' all in that Mirky-place. These Elven scum, 'ere, seemed to 'ave detected the other party before they'd even made it to their precious gates," Adahon gagged, it's mouth curving into a snarl.

Taryn recoiled in horror. Was 'the prince' referring to Legolas of Mirkwood?

"Don't be a fool! Of course it's going to work!"

"Why not aim for the biggie, though. Why not capture the King an' all?" Adahon questioned, shoulders sagging.

"Because, you stupid fool, the King is too heavily protected. The Prince is going to be easier to capture on one of his hunting rounds," Algred proceeded to explain in an exasperated manner. "Hopefully, the scouts sent ahead will deal with it before we get there."

"So why are we here?"

"Well, if he's protected, we may have more trouble on our axes than we originally thought."

Adahon frowned, obviously lost.

"To kill any elves that interfere!" Algred drawled out each word in a harsh whisper and growled impatiently.

Taryn was thankful to have chipped into the right conversation; now she had to warn Elrond of the Uruk-hai's duties.

With a flourish of her cloak, she disappeared amongst the trees, the orcs heedlessly rambling by.

"I need to speak with Elrond! It's urgent!" Taryn cried as she was intercepted on the way to Elrond's study by Lindir.

His eyebrows arched in an unasked question. "Uruk-hai are currently in the forest! They've sent forth troops to capture Legolas!"

Lindir abruptly gave a flustered nodded, though no surprise crossed his face; had he been expecting it? He strode down the corridor, and Taryn figured he was expecting her to follow, and trailed after the elf, watching his cloak trail along the floor before her.

"Ah, I sense something is wrong?" Elrond inquired the moment we set foot in his study; a circular room cluttered with books and documents and yellowing pieces of parchment.

"Taryn overheard a band of orcs discussing their attack on Mirkwood," Lindir explained, holding no obvious expression. "They've sent forth another party to capture the Prince."

Elrond nodded, his wizened forehead lining with light wrinkles as he scrunched up his face in thought. He eventually relaxed, a hard gleam in his eye. "Our scouts will be sent ahead to deal with these Uruk-hai immediately. But there is not much to be done regarding Mirkwood's protection. We'll just have to pray the orcs' attempt fails."

"But we must warn them!" Taryn protested, stepping forward defiantly, and narrowly avoiding snapping the spine of an overturned tome.

"There is no time! Nevertheless, surely the Mirkwood patrol will spot the orcs before they reach the prince." Elrond sighed with exhaustion, but Taryn still held her argument.

"Their force could be huge! What if they're planning to take out the whole palace!?'

Elrond gave a humourless chuckle. "The King of Mirkwood will not be so easily defeated, Taryn. We must only hope for the best and deal with that which we can deal with! Now, I am truly sorry, but that is all!"

And with a polite cough from Lindir, Taryn allowed herself to be escorted back to her chambers in silence.