Chapter 10 - Daylight

"Behind me! All of you!" Faramir shouted, grabbing Pippin by the shoulder and yanking him backwards. He turned back to the enemy and the arrows that were badly aimed at the six members of the fellowship. Shielding his friends with his body, he drew his own bow and fitted an arrow, well aware that he was the only one armed. The first goblin that appeared around the corner was felled by an arrow to the throat before it had time to raise its axe.

Faramir heard a gruff exclamation from behind him before Gimli barged past him, shoving him into the wall.

"Gimli! What-?"

"My axe!" the Dwarf shouted, "I will not leave without it!"

Faramir heard a muttering of Elvish behind him and before he knew it Legolas was pushing past him as well.

"Get back here you foolish Dwarf! What do you think you're doing?" Legolas' voice was strong but Faramir noticed the Elf was swaying on his feet as he pulled himself along the wall towards Gimli who had disappeared around the corner.

Faramir clenched his teeth in frustration at the two friends, matching each other in their stubbornness they were managing to put the quest in grave danger.

He slung his bow on his back and drew his long tapered sword, "stay here," he said to Sam, indicating for him to tell the others.

Before Legolas had reached the corner, Gimli appeared at the bend in the path, grinning broadly and holding his axe in one hand and Legolas' bow and quiver in the other.

"No one touches the axe of Gimli the Dwarf!" he declared proudly, before a Goblin arrow almost took his head off.

"Make haste!" Faramir yelled.

Gimli strode forwards, thrusting the bow at Legolas who was leaning against the wall. The Elf's hand faltered and the bow crashed to the ground. Faramir could wait no longer, he rushed forwards, scooped up the bow in one hand and thrust his other under Legolas' uninjured arm. He half supported, half dragged the Elf away from an astonished Gimli who ran after them on his short legs.

To Faramir it seemed like hours until they reached the circular room and started down the passage to the fresh air.

"Why are we running?" Gimli yelled, outraged. "Those creatures need to be taught a hard lesson for what they did to us! Look at the Elf, they must pay!"

"Gimli, please-" Faramir panted. He was finding it extremely difficult running while holding the Elf. Legolas had lost a lot of blood and was barely conscious. Although he was light, Faramir found it awkward and could do without Gimli's constant need for revenge. He was surprised when Gimli, showing his true character, carefully grabbed the Elf's right side and helped Faramir to drag him forwards.

The circle of light grew closer and closer. The hobbits reached the exit and disappeared into the pink sunlight. The evening light exploded around him as Faramir emerged from the dark tunnels. He closed his eyes against it and felt someone take Legolas' weight. Faramir dropped to his knees and breathed the cool fresh air.

He felt a hand on his shoulder and someone helped to his feet. Squinting in the brightness, Faramir's eyes fell upon Aragorn's calm face.

"You have done well, my friend," Aragorn said, admiration clear on his face. "Yet there is still more to be done. The enemy has not been destroyed and with Legolas injured, there are but three of us."

"Do not forget us!" Pippin said, waving the small sword Gimli had retrieved for him.

"We may be small," Merry said, "but we may be of some help."

Aragorn smiled at Faramir, marvelling at the hobbits' bravery. "So be it."

Three bodies lay on the grass outside the tunnel mouth, too far away for the goblins to tell whether they were alive or dead. They advanced, noting one body as an Elf and two as the small, half-men creatures. Unsure at first, the goblins crept slowly out into the darkening twilight towards the figures on the grass.

A yell broke the quiet of the evening and a flock of dark birds erupted into the sky from their resting place amongst the trees. Two goblins were crushed under the weight of the Dwarf who had jumped them from the rocks behind and several more fell with arrows to their hearts. Faramir noticed he only had two arrows left in his quiver and after firing one at a newly arrived Goblin he drew he sword and jumped down from the rocks.

He and Aragorn fought side by side for a time, driving the goblins backwards towards their darkness. Faramir was amazed at the skill with which Aragorn fought. He had held high expectations for the lost King of Gondor, but the real thing exceeded even his imagination. Andúril swept through the air before them, a deadly weapon that acted both as an attack and a defence, preventing any enemy coming close to the one who wielded it.

The way Gimli used his axe also amazed Faramir and he began to realise the reason for Gimli's love of battle. The energy the Dwarf seemed to suddenly posses was astounding after the exertion of their escape.

As he fought, Faramir's bright sword darted skilfully between enemies, his kills instant. But all to soon fatigue began to weigh down on him and he felt the burden of too many sleepless nights finally taking their toll.

Less than fifteen goblins remained standing and Pippin and Merry began checking each fallen body for signs of life. Frodo and Sam still lay by Legolas, pretending to be dead, ready if any of the goblins broke though and decided to make sure if the hobbits and Elf were really dead. Before they had prepared for the attack on the goblins, Aragorn had done what he could for Legolas' shoulder but he was weak from loss of blood and would take a few days to fully recover.

Faramir tried to keep an eye on the Elf and the hobbits, staring through the mass of black goblins. Although he and Aragorn tried to force their enemy between themselves and the cave they were gradually pushed back by the superior strength and the sheer weight in numbers of the enemy. Gimli and Aragorn were soon trapped between the cave and the enemy, unable to provide any help to their friends on the ground.

Faramir tried to force his way through the line of goblins to give Gimli and Aragorn a break in which to turn the battle around. He found himself confronted with a giant Goblin who held its rusty scimitar in readiness before him. Faramir dodged the first blow with an effort but his enemy was quicker than he had given it credit for. Another lethal swipe with the scimitar and Faramir only had time to stumble backwards, falling to the ground. The Goblin raised its weapon and Faramir struggled to his feet. He raised his sword to parry the attack and his arm jolted as the heavy weapon struck with the crash of steel against steel.

The Goblin struck at him over and over, forcing him backwards. His arm trembled as, with each terrible blow, he struggled to avert the attack. The Goblin brought a last crushing blow down upon him and finally Faramir's arm gave way and the sword flew from his hand. He was knocked backward with the impact and fell on his back, unable to reach his sword. The Goblin raised the scimitar above its head and Faramir's eyes fixed on the weapon that would destroy him.

His arm moved up almost without conscious thought, his hand closed around the shaft of his last arrow and snatching it from his quiver he lunged forwards, plunging the sharp metal into the Goblin's neck.

He wrenched out the arrow and scrambled out of the way as the Goblin toppled forwards. He lay on the grass for a moment, breathing and taking in the battle. The goblins were closing in on Aragorn and Gimli who seemed to have been wounded. Faramir saw a great gash on the Dwarf's leg and began climbing to his feet.

Pippin was bending over one of the largest of the goblins, checking to see if the creature was alive. The Goblin had managed to get disturbingly close to the three on the ground and Faramir did not remember killing him. Perhaps Aragorn had, he thought, stumbling wearily to where the others were fighting. No, it could not have been Aragorn, he never moved from . . .

"Pippin!" Faramir yelled, praying he was wrong, "Pippin, run!"

Merry looked up at him, startled. He turned back to talk to Pippin when Faramir saw the Hobbit's face change from confusion to horror.

The giant Goblin's yellow eyes flashed open and his great hand wrapped around Pippin's throat. The look of terror on the Hobbit's face burned in Faramir's heart. If only he had realised more quickly!

The look on the Goblin's face clearly expressed its threat.

Faramir swallowed with difficulty, "Aragorn! Gimli! Put down your swords!"

He heard a grumble of anger from the Dwarf, followed by a grunt of exclamation at the sight of Pippin. The Hobbit was being held a long way from the ground and his face was beginning to turn blue. Merry beat against the Goblin's leg and pleaded with it to leave Pippin alone, which only made the creature laugh and kick Merry away.

Faramir never took his eyes of Pippin but he knew the others had dropped their weapons because the sound of battle had ceased. He shook his head in disbelief as one of the goblins grabbed his arms and pulled him back towards Aragorn and Gimli. In his mind he cried out for Gandalf, anyone . . . The fate of Middle Earth had been placed in their hands and they had failed.

"Take them inside," the Goblin growled, "tomorrow we march to Isengard."

"Saruman..." Faramir heard Aragorn mutter beside him. Pippin had stopped struggling in the Goblin's grasp and was slipping into unconsciousness.

"Put him down, Goblin, or there'll be nothing to march to Isengard with!" Gimli's voice rose in anger over his friend being hurt. The Goblin laughed and shook the poor Hobbit, causing Merry to shout.

Faramir closed his eyes for a moment, desperately trying to think of a way out of the situation. A cry from Merry brought his eyes darting open and he looked just in time to see Pippin fall from the Goblin's hand and roll on the ground. Merry grabbed the almost unconscious Hobbit and dragged him away from the giant Goblin. A dark liquid suddenly spurted from the creature's mouth and nose and it swayed, turning its head to look behind. It toppled forwards, an Elven arrow still embedded in its lung.