Chapter Six

Making their way in and around the boulders safely took a lot of concentration for the three brothers from Rivendell. Some of the rocks were so close together that the two elves and the ranger had to squeeze through sideways. They also found themselves having to watch their steps as the ground was becoming increasingly icy.

Yet nothing they were forced to do could take their minds completely off of Legolas, who was making his way on the narrow ledge below them. They could only imagine how treacherous his exposed pathway was.

Several times Aragorn had called out to the Mirkwood elf and then waited anxiously for the reply that would reassure them, for the time being anyway, that he was all right.

It didn’t sit well with the ranger or the twins, when the trail they were on gradually angled to their left and began to move farther and farther away from the cliff edge. Aragorn found himself having to shout several times before he finally heard the archer’s faint, wind-whipped reply.

There was no way he, Elladan or Elrohir could visibly check up on their friend, because there was no opening at all near the cliff edge. It had been incredibly bad luck that Legolas had slipped on ice beside the only gap the rocks offered.

The brothers would have been very dismayed, if they had been able to look down on the ledge below them and see that it was angling downward and was much lower now than it had started out, when Legolas had dropped onto it.

Aragorn shook his head with a mixture of frustration and anger. Things were definitely not going the way the ranger had planned. “We are getting farther away from Legolas, and I don’t like it,” the man declared unhappily to his elven brothers.

Elladan stopped and turned to face the ranger. “I do not like it either, Estel, but there is nothing we can do to remedy the situation right now. Have faith.”

Putting his hand on Aragorn’s shoulder, Elrohir said, “We must trust that Legolas will be able to join us soon. He is very resourceful, as you well know.”

“Yes, I know.” Aragorn sighed. He knew Elrohir was right. During the many years of their friendship, Legolas had proven that fact over and over. Yet bad things had sometimes happened to the archer, as well, and there was no way to know whether or not this might be one of those times. It took him only a second to shake off that unpleasant thought. Legolas would be all right and would join them shortly. ‘Please, Valar, let that be true.’

The three brothers continued along the only pathway open to them. As Elladan had just pointed out, there was nothing else they could do right then.

~*~*~

Legolas stared a the creature that was standing not more than six feet from him on the narrow ledge. His first thought was: ‘What in Arda is this thing?’

What the elf beheld was a creature about four feet high. It had no muscles to speak of, looking like skin stretched tightly over bone. That skin was black as night and resembled tanned leather but had no shine to it at all. It was covered with a thin layer of sparse and very coarse, black hair that looked totally incapable of keeping the wind and cold off of the creature’s body, though it seemed oblivious to the current weather conditions.

The being’s head was too large for its frail-looking body Its eyes were large and black with only a thin rim of white around the edges. It was obvious this creature could see very well in the dark, probably much better than an elf.

Was this one of the howlers? It didn’t seem likely, since it would have been extremely odd to hear those haunting howls coming out of this scrawny creature’s mouth. Pathetic was the word that came to the wood elf’s mind, as he gazed at the being. though he had always tried hard not to be judgmental based on looks alone.

The beast looked starved and lacking the strength to cause anyone any trouble. It might be looking to find in Legolas an ally. Perhaps this creature was as much a potential victim of the howlers as he and his friends were. Then again, there was no way of knowing if the howlers were even the dangerous ones on this mountain.

Legolas felt compelled to at least try and communicate with this creature. “Do you understand what I am saying to you?” he asked in both Westron and Sindarin.

There was no reply. It didn’t surprise him. He figured that any creature capable of speech and living isolated on this mountain would not be fluent in any of the other tongues of Middle-earth.

“I guess not,” the elf said sadly, feeling almost foolish for even asking in the first place. He had hoped, though, that he could possibly learn something from this creature.

The tall, fair elf and the short, black creature stood and stared at each other for what seemed like hours, black eyes boring into blue-gray ones.

The wind was blowing much stronger now, and Legolas found himself having to hug the rock wall even closer, his fingers tightening around the few and all-too-small protrusions the stone offered. His hair whipped wildly about his face, but his gaze never left the creature’s face.

The elf made a sudden decision and very slowly lowered his left arm and began to reach out toward the creature, who was so spindly that even the wind did not affect it. Surely the two of them could find some common ground and help each other.

No sooner had Legolas’s arm reached its full outstretched length than the creature opened its mouth in a wide grin. Arrayed inside were twin rows of pointed, yellow teeth, complete with fangs a good two inches long.

The odd thought occurred to Legolas that he didn’t see how so many teeth could be contained within that mouth.

The creature snarled and snapped at Legolas, though he was too far away for it to be more than a display---and probably a warning, as well. It was enough.

In an instant, Legolas jerked his arm back and gripped the stone again, as a howl erupted from the creature. The piercing sound actually caused pain to the elf’s sensitive ears. He winced but did not dare let go of the rock he faced to put his hands over his ears. He refused even to close his eyes, determined to keep his attention on the beast. There was no telling what it might do next.

The look of pain on the elf’s face seemed to excite the creature, and it raised the volume of its howls.

Legolas continued to stare, ignoring the pain in his ears. How could such a resonant sound come from a throat that looked as if it barely existed? The head looked more like it had been jammed down on a stick. Yet there was no denying that the howls, like the ones he had been hearing, were coming from this leathery skeleton creature.

It wasn’t long before several other howlers appeared behind the first one. In moments the narrow ledge on Legolas’s other side was filled with the little beasts.

Every fiber of the elf’s body was screaming escape. Going up was not an option. The cliff face was too smooth for even an elf to climb, and the drop behind him was several hundred feet to certain death on the granite rocks below. Legolas was trapped with no place to go.

~*~*~

“Do you hear that?” Aragorn said. The question was asked without thinking, since his elven brothers would have heard the sound far easier than he could have ever hoped to.

“The howlers,” commented Elrohir. “They seem to be down....” He clamped his mouth shut, as the horror of what he was about to say struck him

Aragorn and Elladan didn’t need to hear the rest of the sentence to understand exactly what he had meant. Legolas was down there. And right then, down there was not the place to be.

Aragorn just stood and stared in the direction of the cliff. All that he could see was the huge, black boulder that stood directly in front of him. His heart began to pound, as he waited in vain for the elf’s call of reassurance that he was still all right. The man started forward, as if he was planning on climbing the large rock to see for himself what was happening to his friend.

“Perhaps, he is too far ahead of us to hear you. His path may be easier to travel, especially for an elf,” Elrohir remarked to try and offer comfort to his human brother‘s increasingly troubled mind.

“It is also very windy, Estel. He may not hear you,” Elladan said, adding his own touch of reassurance.

The man just stared at first one twin and then the other. “You two don’t really believe either one of those theories, do you?”

Neither answered.

“I didn’t think so.”

“They are possibilities, Estel,” Elrohir said.

Aragorn sighed and glared back at the boulder, as if that was the only thing keeping him from the archer. “I know he would stay within earshot of us.”

“Unless he wanted to surprise us by suddenly appearing on the trail in front of us.” Elladan was trying hard to convince himself that this could be a prospect worth mentioning. However, his voice lacked conviction. He felt bad, when Aragorn turned his head to look up the trail and then felt worse, when the hope on the ranger’s face disappeared.

Elladan felt the light touch of Elrohir’s hand on his arm but could not look him in the eye. He knew, though, that his twin was offering support. In turn, he put his own hand on Aragorn’s shoulder. “We will find him,” was all he could manage to get out, not realizing that his words could mean that he might now think Legolas was beyond their reach.

~*~*~

Legolas’s heart had fallen when he had seen that the path ahead of him now contained more of the howlers. He turned his head from side to side, trying to keep his eye on the two groups of creatures on either side of him.

As his hopeless situation hit home, he ended up closing his eyes and leaning his forehead against the cold rock face. There was nothing he could do to stop whatever these creatures might have in mind to do, and the admission of helplessness was not a pleasant one.

The last notes of the howls died away, or rather were ripped away by the wind. Once again the only sound Legolas heard was the fierce air currents that were buffeting him.

A moment later, Legolas heard his name come swirling down to him. He recognized Aragorn’s voice. It was the fourth time the ranger had called to him. The elf wasn’t sure what he should do. He didn’t want to tell his friends that he was obviously in big trouble. There was no way they could help him, and trying might endanger them. However, saying nothing at all might cause panic in his friends and end up producing the same results.

The decision was taken out of his hands very quickly. With Legolas’s attention temporarily diverted, one of the howlers jumped on his back and wrapped its bony, black arms around his neck with a strength that no one seeing the creature would have ever dreamed it possessed.

Legolas was so surprised that he almost lost his balance.

No sooner had the creature landed on the elf than he opened his mouth and with all those jagged yellow teeth, bit down on Legolas’s left shoulder.

At first there was merely an intense pressure, but as the force of the bite increased, Legolas felt a sharp pain. The teeth had entered the elf’s flesh and he flinched, trying to pull his shoulder down out of grip of those horrid teeth. The howler bit down harder.

Legolas reached over with his right hand and tried to push and then pull the creature off of him but to no avail. There was only one thing left for him to do. He bent his head down and bit the creature’s arm as hard as he could. It felt like he was biting into rancid leather that hadn’t been cured properly, and the taste of the liquid that ran into his mouth, though only a small amount, was disgusting.

The howler was just as surprised at Legolas’s move as the elf had been when the creature had landed on his back. Pulling its teeth out of Legolas’s shoulder, the howler tightened its grip on the elf’s neck, forcing his head back. Convulsively, Legolas had to swallow the foul liquid.

The creature put his mouth next to the elf’s ear and hissed, “Hurt me again, and you will die painfully.”

Legolas’s face reflected his utter shock. Not only could the creature speak, but it spoke flawless Westron. Of a secondary shock was the deep resonance of its speech. Again Legolas wondered how such a sound could come from this bony frame. He would have shaken his head, if the grip on his neck hadn’t been so tight.

“There is no escape for you, elf,” the creature said in the same hissing tone.

Unfortunately, Legolas had to admit that that was true. He was at the mercy of these creatures. The trouble was he had no idea whether or not they possessed any mercy.

Again Legolas’s name rode the wind down to them. “My friends will be wondering what has happened ot me. They will...”

“Do nothing,” the howler finished. “If they could help you, you would be up there with them now.”

The archer closed his eyes. It was getting tiresome having to agree with this creature, especially when it involved his own helplessness. “What do you want?” he asked sternly, not sure if he would get an honest answer, if he got one at all.

“Why you, of course. Elf flesh is very sweet, and it has been long since we have tasted it.”

TBC