Chapter Thirty

As the two friends were swept out into the river, in a grim replay of the day before, Aragorn reached over and grabbed Legolas’s right forearm, wrapping his hand tightly around it. He hoped he and the elf would be able to ride out whatever was to come together. Though in reality, he doubted their physical connection would last long, he did his best to beat the odds. As he feared, it only took mere seconds for the current to start trying to pull them apart.

Legolas keenly felt the desperate hold the man had on his arm. Between splashes in his face that caused him to close his eyes, he managed to see the near panic on Aragorn’s face, as his grip began to slip. The elf knew it wasn’t fear for himself that the ranger was feeling. It was fear of losing contact with him.

Twice the two were sent down into a depression of water and then up and over a strong wave created in the wake of a boulder. Because of his superior elven strength, Legolas knew that he would be able to hold a grip firmer and longer. So, as they rode up the second wave, when they were both pushed waist high above the water, Legolas broke free of Aragorn’s grasp and quickly grabbed the man’s wrist. His hold tightened like a vise, as they slipped back down into the icy water.

Elf and ranger were moving at top speed down the river, struggling to keep their heads above the surface and the water out of their lungs. They were only winning the battle half the time.

Aragorn had tried several times to grab Legolas around the waist to keep them from being parted, but the river seemed to have other ideas. It threw them toward one of the largest boulders they had yet seen in the river, rising up in front of them. The water was being parted by the rock, whipping around on either side and then crashing back together in a churning mass behind it. It was a regular occurrence in the river, and it was very familiar to the pair.

It was obvious that one of two things was going to happen. If they stayed together, they were going to smash into the rock sideways, possibly breaking both of their arms, if not doing something even worse. If Legolas let go, they would be separated, probably for good. Neither choice was appealing, but in the end, there was really only one thing to be done. The elf reluctantly let go of Aragorn’s wrist.

Any hope the two friends had that they might also come back together behind the rock was soon dashed, as the elf, in a slightly stronger part of the current, rounded the boulder quicker and was several feet away by the time Aragorn was flung around the other side.

“Estel, swim toward me,” Legolas yelled out. It was his thought that if he swam against the current, slowing him down even slightly, and Aragorn swam with it, speeding him up, they might be able to meet up again.

Aragorn began to swim as hard as he could, slicing through the water, but again the river thwarted Legolas’s plan. If he and the elf had been able to remain in line with each other, it might have worked, but such was not the case.

Legolas was certainly doing his best to fight the current. Unfortunately, with only one arm to try and accomplish the maneuver and the river swirling strongly in various directions, the attempt failed miserably. He and Aragorn were quickly pushed farther apart.

The pair were virtually helpless to do more than bob like corks in the churning current. Whatever the river had in store for them was what would happen, and they were powerless to change it.

*~*~*~*

There were two very angry trolls currently chasing after the two beings that had gone into the river. Each was so determined to be the winner that they had come close to reaching the boiling point of rage at the other.

Anyone else might have been content to hope that they each got one of the pair in the water. But, in addition to their other unsavory traits, these two troll leaders were greedy. They wanted both of the ones they chased, partly to claim the total prize and make their planned torment more enjoyable and partly to be able to taunt the troll leader across the river, who would end up with nothing.

Tack and Sump kept their eyes on each other as much as they did on the river to try and locate Legolas and Aragorn. They were all moving as fast as they could to keep the other group from outdistancing them.

What was amazing was that the huge creatures were able to cover as much ground as they did. It was true they had long legs, but they were also bulky and incredibly heavy. Yet, instead of sinking into the soft, sandy soil along the river, they were abler to move quickly .

It was certainly evident that a competition had long existed between the group formerly led by Hatch and the one belonging to Sump. It probably had existed long before either of them were even born. Any troll not a member of a particular group was considered the enemy to all others and was to be challenged over anything and everything that would bring victory to that group.

It had rapidly become a foot race between the two groups, and it remained to be seen who would be the ultimate winner, either or both of the trolls or the escaping captives.

No amount of determination or physical speed by the trolls was a match for the swollen river’s wild current. The huge creatures were being left far behind the breakneck speed attained by Legolas and Aragorn.

*~*~*~*

Against their wills, Legolas and Aragorn were soon out of sight of each other, a fact that upset them both, though they each realized they would have to concentrate on saving themselves and, for the moment, forget the other.

It amazed the ranger that a current that was flowing at the same speed could send one friend down its length faster than the other. He was sure there was some physical reason for it, a reason that Lord Elrond would no doubt know, but the ranger did not. Had it been a lesson his tutor had tried to teach the oft times inattentive human child? Probably, but it was too late to worry about that now.

Downriver, Legolas didn’t have the time right then to think about the metaphysical aspects of the river‘s current, either. He was once again fighting for his life.

Another boulder had appeared in front of him, seemingly to pop up out of nowhere. Legolas tried to relax, counting on the current to take him around it.

By the time he was swept past the boulder into a swirling whirlpool, inside his head was spinning to match that of his body. The dizziness he had been suffering from since his head injuries, was back in full force. His head didn’t actually hurt like it did before, not yet at least, but he found it hard to concentrate, and the situation he was in demanded total concentration.

It was then that instinct for self-preservation kicked in. And Legolas kicked out, pumping his legs as hard as he could while also using his cupped right hand to help pull himself out of the swirling water.

For a while, all that was happening was that Legolas spun around in circles. Luckily, the whirlpool wasn’t a large one, so the archer was able to break free of the deadly hold it had on him. As if tired of the tug-of-war, the water suddenly spewed Legolas out and flung him outward. Legolas’s nose came close to scraping the rocky river bottom before he was jerked up and sent to the surface. The elf felt like a hapless leaf, though certainly a grateful one.

Once he was moving down the river again, Legolas looked around for Aragorn but didn’t see the man. The elf fought the urge not to do more than let the current take him at its own pace. Instead, he turned in a complete circle, risking more dizziness, in order to try and locate his friend. He did this twice before he was forced to quit the maneuver.

No Aragorn.

The elf prayed to the Valar that Aragorn had moved farther downriver while he was caught in the whirlpool, which is exactly what had happened. To Legolas, the alternative was unthinkable.

Just then, a large tree that had been uprooted far upstream floated past Legolas, as the elf continued to struggle against the current.

In a last ditch effort to save himself, Legolas reached out and managed to grab onto a small branch sticking out of the side of the tree trunk. He had to do it using his injured left arm, because that was the side the tree was on, and if he had taken time to turn his body around and use his right arm, the tree would have moved out of his reach.

The pain in his shoulder was instantaneous, but the elf did not let go or even loosen his grip a little. This fallen tree was his lifeline, and he had no intention of letting it get away from him.

*~*~*~*

Aragorn had been sent downriver almost half a mile farther than Legolas. He did his best to avoid as many rocks as he could. Fortunately, he was successful, for the most part. A few times, he hit with glancing blows but nothing like the impact that sent him into oblivion the day before.

It was inevitable that, if he met with no disasters, sooner or later he would reach a section of the river that was not as violent as what he had just been through. That time had just arrived.

Aragorn found himself being inexorably moved toward the shore. Occasionally, he would be pulled out near the center of the river, but he could tell that the river itself was becoming calmer. The current was still extremely swift, but the rapids had all but disappeared.

The ranger soon realized that he was able to drag his feet - or foot, since he was reluctant to use the bad one - against the rocky riverbed. The result was that he slowed his progress and moved ever closer to the riverbank.

To his great surprise and joy, Aragorn soon found himself on his hands and knees in barely ten inches of water, which allowed him to crawl out of the river. Once he had dragged himself onto the sandy soil, he collapsed, falling onto his stomach and breathing deeply. It felt wonderful to inhale air that contained no water.

Aragorn looked behind him, hoping to see that Legolas had made it to shore, as well, so the two of them would be reunited again. His heart sank when the elf was not there.

The ranger lowered his head down on his outstretched arm. He was certainly relieved at being on solid ground, but that feeling was tempered by the absence of his friend. He could only hope that somewhere along the river, the archer was having the same kind of good fortune he was having. He knew better than to count the elf out and would begin the search for him, as soon as he gathered his strength.

Suddenly, a sound nearby made him jerk. At first thinking a troll, or worse yet many trolls, had found him, the ranger started to roll over and grab for his sword. Then he remembered he no longer possessed the treasured blade.

A soft nicker gave him a shock he was hardly expecting. Raising his head, Aragorn looked into the large brown eyes of his horse, who had lowered his head to welcome his master. The relief Aragorn felt was so profound, his body went limp for a moment.

The animal took a step closer and nudged the human with his nose, nickering again in happy greeting. It seemed Aragorn wasn’t the only one relieved and overjoyed.

“Where did you come from?” Aragorn asked the horse, as he rose to his feet. His bad foot quickly reminded him it was not in shape to hold his weight, so he balanced on his other foot.

The horse raised his head, and he was now making snuffling noises against the man’s shoulder.

Aragorn rubbed the stallion’s velvety nose with one hand while patting his muscular neck with the other. “You’ve no idea how glad I am to see you.” He put his forehead against the warm neck he had just been patting.

Another soft nicker a few feet away drew Aragorn’s attention. It was Legolas’s horse. The animal looked past Aragorn at the river and then back at the ranger. Nickering again, he seemed to be asking where his elf was.

Aragorn held his hand out, and the elven stallion walked up and nuzzled it. The man closed his eyes, then opened them and sighed. In elvish, he whispered, “Don’t worry. We’ll find Legolas. We won’t leave him behind.”

The horse tossed his head up and down, not understanding those exact words but feeling the reassurance behind them. Because of Legolas, he had known the ranger most of his life and trusted him as he knew his master did.

Turning back to his own horse, Aragorn bent his knees, then jumped up, using his arms to pull himself across the animal’s back. He swung around to face forward and lowered his legs, easing them down on either side of his mount. There was no saddle, but at the moment, that hardly mattered. It felt so good to be on a horse again, both physically and, because of what it meant, emotionally.

He could cover a great deal more territory on horseback, not to mention being able to rest his throbbing foot. His recently-found good luck was holding, and it brought a smile to his face.

Turning toward the river, the man realized he had ended up back on the side where Tack and his group lived. At this point, though, it hardly made a difference. A troll was a troll, and being captured by either group would prove deadly.

The only question now was: How could he scour the river for Legolas without running into Tack and his group of hideous creatures? His answer was to move into the trees where the trolls running along the bank wouldn’t see him.

With luck, Legolas had either already reached this calmer stretch of the river and had made his way ashore or he would reach it soon. The man knew the elf would do all he could to avoid the trolls along the riverbank. If he could then find his friend, they would be able to use their horses to leave this accursed land.

Just before turning to head into the forest, a large uprooted tree came floating down the river. Aragorn had no way of knowing that Legolas, clinging to the far side of the tree trunk was passing unseen right in front of him.

After watching the tree for a moment, Aragorn marveled at the power of the current that such a large one could have been yanked out of the ground and moved along like a twig.

Then with a sigh, the ranger moved toward the forest. Legolas’s horse, needing no command, trailed behind.

*~*~*~*

Figuring he had gone far enough downstream to outdistance the trolls, Legolas’s plan was to abandon the tree he clung to, gain the riverbank in the calming current and then run the other way.

What Legolas didn’t know was that some of Sump’s members, separated earlier in the day from the main group, were less than forty yards from him.

TBC