Chapter Thirty One

Legolas noted with a deep sense of relief that he was entering a part of the river where the rapids had all but disappeared, making the surface relatively smooth. What had been roiling, white-capped waves farther back were now merely small swirls of flat water. However, the current was deceptive. It was still very strong and anyone unable to read the river or not paying proper attention to it could nevertheless end up in trouble, even here beyond the wild water.

Legolas’s shoulder had begun hurting so badly as he awkwardly clung to the tree that he had been forced to shift his body in order to hold onto the short, protruding branch with his right hand. It was a bit uncomfortable, and he had to work to keep his body from swinging around to face where he had just come from. Calmer water or not, he needed to see what was coming. Therefore, he had no choice but to struggle with his right arm across his body in order to stay facing downriver.

The energy he expended was well worth the effort, because he was able to spot what he hoped would be his ultimate salvation before he passed beyond it.

The riverbank had eroded inward a few yards, allowing a small pool to form. It was calm and still enough for a child to play in and certainly provided a safe and easy place for Legolas to make his way out of the river.

Knowing that if he waited too long, the current would sweep him past the miniature pond, Legolas judged he would have to let go of the tree trunk just before he reached the front edge of the pool, so he would be carried into it. Timing it just right, he headed for the shallow water.

Now completely ignored by the elf, whose sole attention was focused on escaping the river, the floating tree no longer had the archer to hold it steady. It hit one of the few hidden rocks in this area and bounced up and then sideways before turning back around and continuing its way downriver. It would no doubt eventually find its way to the riverbank, and lodge itself there. Over time, debris would hang up and collect against it. Several such long-trapped tree trunks could be found at various spots along the whole length of the river. Unfortunately, during their two wild rides neither Legolas nor Aragorn could get close to any of them.

This particular tree, making its way downriver at such a critical time, had probably saved the wood-elf’s life.

Dripping wet, Legolas stumbled out of the river and made his way across the sandy bank to the nearest living tree edging the forest.

Leaning his head against the rough bark, Legolas, like Aragorn had done earlier, filled his lungs with fresh, water-free air. A few strong coughs, and the elf was able to take in the amount of air he needed to stabilize his oxygen-deprived body.

After his breathing resumed its normal rhythm, the archer turned back to face the river and sat down, putting his back squarely against the tree trunk.

At first, he used his right hand to rub his left shoulder. The strain that had been put on it when he first grabbed the floating tree, was making it ache almost as bad as when he had first dislocated it. He used his fingers to probe the joint gently, not sure if he had done so again. Gritting his teeth, he raised his arm to see how far it would go. The pain was intense, but he was able to get it high enough to know it was not dislocated this time. It was just painfully swollen.

Relived, Legolas then placed his right hand on the exposed root beside his right thigh. The elf reached his weary mind out to seek comfort from the tree.

When he received no response to his plea, the elf frowned and tilted his head upward to look into the swaying branches above him. He couldn’t understand the tree’s silence at first. Then he remembered that the trees here didn’t communicate, probably due to their exposure to the constant cruelty of the trolls that lived in this land.

“I am sorry, my friend“, Legolas whispered sadly. “I cannot help you now. I have not the strength. It is your comfort I had hoped to find.”

Legolas lowered his head and closed his eyes. It made his heart ache to think that neither of them could offer solace to the other. He felt as though he had lost a friend, which in a way, he had. Even though he had never seen this particular tree before, the wood-elf felt connected to every tree that lived in Middle-earth.

A moment later, Legolas heard a noise. He jerked his head around and listened. It was not one of Nature’s variety of benign creatures. On hearing the noise again, Legolas was sure it was trolls.

Still woozy and shivering a little from so recently being submerged in the river’s icy water, the elf realized he could not stay here and rest, something both his body and mind desperately craved. He needed to find a hiding place, and he needed to find it fast.

The elven archer slowly stood and, after wishing the tree well, made his slightly unsteady way deeper into the forest, seeking sanctuary until he could gain enough strength to meet whatever came next. Whether that included battling trolls, something he wasn’t sure his body could handle right now, or whether it involved searching for Aragorn, he did not know. He only had the feeling that whatever it was could well be even more wearying than what he’d already been through.

Leaving the tree behind, Legolas continued his way through the trees. As he moved, he was trying to get the world to stop spinning. Or was it his head that was whirling around? He wasn’t sure but either way, he knew that without the numerous trees he was using to steady himself, he would have fallen several times. The very idea made him cringe for his weakness, though logically he knew the condition he was in was not really his fault. He finally decided that getting upset with himself was a waste of time. He needed to concentrate on the task at hand.

It had been a few moments after Legolas departed that the tree under whose branches the elf had rested felt a small shudder run through it, faintly rustling its leaves. It did not know that it had been touched by a wood-elf. It did not sing or call out to its neighbors, but it sensed, in some deep inner part of itself, that something different had taken place. It had become - vaguely aware.

*~*~*~*

As Aragorn made his way into the forest, he turned his head several times and looked back over his shoulder toward the river. He wanted to be deep into the trees so he could be hidden enough not to be spotted by the trolls he knew would be showing up before long and still be close enough to the river to be able to try and keep an eye out for Legolas. To his dismay, by the time he found a spot he deemed safe, he was able to see only slivers of the sparkling river through thin gaps between the trees. Anything floating by would be past and gone before it was seen, especially a blond headed elf.

Now the ranger had to make the decision which way to go: upstream or down. He had no idea whether Legolas had passed him while they were both in the river or whether it had been the other way around. Aragorn did know that making the wrong choice would not only lose valuable search time but could very well end up costing Legolas his freedom or even his life.

If the elf was still in the current upriver, it would soon bring him this way. If, however, he was hung up somewhere, there was little the ranger could do to help, though Aragorn knew in his heart, he would try to the farthest limits of his ability.

At times like these, Aragorn knew he needed all the help he could get. He closed his eyes and asked the Valar for guidance.

Convinced Legolas would eventually end up downriver, no matter how far that might be, Aragorn made up his mind that his best bet was to go in that direction. The ranger turned his horse and began moving parallel to the river.

Aragorn didn’t see the trolls, led by Tack, running along the riverbank until they were even with him. As the dark figures moved, they flashed in and out of his line of sight.

When he spotted the first one, Aragorn had halted his progress immediately. Then, to the man’s horror, he saw one of the huge creatures stop in one of the shafts of light and look toward the trees. Despite the fact that only a small part of the troll could be seen, the creature’s intent was all too obvious.

Aragorn froze, hardly daring to breathe. If he was seen now, the alarm would be sounded, and he would have to make a run for it, likely taking him farther from Legolas. That would not be good for his elven friend, who could well be depending on him for rescue. Aragorn hated it when he and Legolas were apart like this, not knowing what was happening to the other. It was nerve wracking.

The troll lifted his head and sniffed the air, hoping to catch the scent of the quarry. The only way he could actually smell the human was if Aragorn was upwind of the creature. There was no wind, not even a small breeze, and the ranger was grateful for that no small piece of good fortune.

After a moment, the other trolls had rumbled on out of sight and sound. Tack evidently wasn’t concerned with whatever this lone troll might be attempting to investigate. The leader believed their prize was still ahead of them, and he had no intention of losing any time by veering away from going after it. Tack was still determined not to lose what he believed was his to Sump and his group.

The curious troll, who had no doubt thought he could earn some kind of reward by finding the former captives, growled in frustration when he could neither see nor smell anything out of the ordinary. Disappointed and disgruntled, he turned and ran after his leader and the rest of his group.

Aragorn let out a long sigh of immense relief. He patted his horse on the neck and then leaned over and did the same to Legolas’s horse, standing quietly beside him. Both animals had easily recognized the tension in the man’s demeanor, as well as being aware of the cruel beasts who had so recently held them and their masters in very unpleasant surroundings. Thus they remained as still and quiet as Aragorn had.

Quickly recovering from his scare, the ranger resumed the hunt for Legolas. This time, however, there was even more urgency in his mission, because now, the trolls were between him and the elf, if he was right and Legolas was indeed downriver from him.

Aragorn shook his head. This was not working out the way he had hoped when he found the horses, or rather the horses had found him. He could not - would not - let Legolas get captured again. Just how he was going to keep them both out of the clutches of those horrid beasts, he had no idea - yet.

*~*~*~*

The country that Legolas and Aragorn had entered what seemed like an age ago was troll land, which was over six hundred square miles. And in that area, there were fifteen different troll groups. Most lived in the forests, some lived among the open hills and a few were nomadic.

It was one of these roving groups who was making its way through the forest toward the river. There were only eight of them, and they were smaller than the other groups like those belonging to Tack and Sump. They would seem to be at a disadvantage, however, what they lacked in size, they made up for in ferocity.

These creatures were thieves and merciless killers, necessary traits for survival, because they were constantly crossing the territory of stationary groups and often had to fight their way from one end to another. They were battles the nomads actually enjoyed. They went beyond just trying to survive. They made an effort to look for trouble.

Between them and the river a lone elf was making his way to safety. Or so he hoped.

TBC