1Another story from my feanorian series. Can be read separately, but I use OCs I created in earlier stories.
Chapter I
The day was already close to its end, but the group of elves travelling through the forest didn't intend to slow down. The winter had been long and hard, and though they had returned to the fortress with reduced forces after the unsuccessful attack on Doriath, their supplies had grown thin. The lands north to Amon Ereb were full of the Enemy's servants, making them desolate and dangerous. Amras had decided to travel east, but it soon turned out that they had to go farther from home in hope for a better prey. The scouts had been sent to find the best place.
One of the elves sent for the patrol returned hastily, signalling from afar that he had urgent news. Amras moved to the front of the group and joined him. He listened to the short report and nodded in thanks.
"It seems our plans for today have just changed," he hissed. "We are going to hunt something else first."
The hunters' behaviour changed at once. Sharp smiles appeared on some faces, the bows and spears were replaced by swords. The few remaining archers made sure their weapons were ready.
"W-what?"
In the silence of the forest the question seemed loud and out of place. Dinessel, who accompanied the group, moved forward. She blushed under the gazes of the hunters, though most of them were friendly and treated he like a nice change in their normal patrol.
"Orcs," someone said indifferently.
This one word was like a dark spell. Dinessel stiffened and glanced behind her shoulder, as if expecting danger. Amras caught her pleading gaze and sighed inwardly. Some things didn't change.
"We will hunt later," he explained impatiently, but then thought better of it. He came closer and placed his hand on the girl's shoulder. "Keep close to the archers and stay away from the direct fight. Shoot only when you have a clear shot," he reminded her sternly. "But don't hesitate. Shoot like we taught you."
"I will..." Just like the other elves, Dinessel made sure her arrows would go out easily from the quiver and that her arm brace was well fastened.
One of the archers smiled encouragingly, inviting her to join them. Amras turned back to the scout to ask about more details, then divided his elves into two groups and they moved on.
xxx
They fell on the orcs like a storm, using full impact. The orcs were few and the elves had the element of surprise and the protection of the archers, so the enemy didn't stand a chance.
Though Amras was as skilled with a bow as he was with a sword, he chose the latter this time. The anger boiling in him since the defeat in Doriath finally found a way out. The steel shone in precise movements and orcs fell under the elves' attack. Morgoth's creatures scared away the animals and came closer and closer, so the elves were eager to clean their ground, if just a bit.
What nobody said aloud was that everyone was glad to face an enemy that was not an elf, one that could be eliminated with satisfaction and the feeling of doing the right thing. Each killed orc was a small victory over Morgoth; a desperate one, but a victory nonetheless.
Soon it was over.
"This group was too small to have come this far alone," said Amras and sashed his sword. "Once we are back in the fortress, we will have to increase patrols. We cannot let them any closer."
"No one will object," someone replied, still bent over an orc he had just killed.
Amras nodded and asked louder. "Anyone's hurt? Anything worrisome?" he looked around his elves. "Dine-"
"She ran away," replied the archer who was supposed to look after her. "I saw her shooting with us, but then I told her to stay behind. This must have been too much for her."
"Orcs?"
"None left alive, my lord," someone reassured him. "Nothing that could harm her."
"And here I thought it's over,' Amras sighed in annoyance. "Well. Find her and bring her back to the camp," he ordered and chose the elves who were supposed to look for the child. The other, smaller group was to return and collect the spears. He went with the first one.
xxx
Bregnir walked through the forest, searching for places a scared girl could have picked as a hideout. He could see that Amras's elves did not take well the prospect of searching for a child in the woods; the case of Dior's abandoned sons was still too fresh.
He was alone. If he wanted, he could have walked away and never see the Kinslayers again. Theoretically. Whatever he thought of the sons of Feanor, he had to admit they were right. In many miles around Amon Ereb there were only few Noldor settlements and the way to Sirion was one he would probably not manage alone. There, as he had heard, his kinsmen had fled from Doriath.
There was no point in deluding himself. He didn't know these lands and even if he had managed to evade the enemies, he would probably get lost.
Bregnir sighed and picked a trail that could have been Dinessel's. So far he had enjoyed freedom in this captivity; greater than he had expected. He had thought he would be held prisoner, yet he had simply become one of the dwellers of the fortress. He had been given duties, easy at first, and when he had recovered from his wounds, one of Amras's scouts had brought him weapons and said they were leaving for a hunt the next morning at dawn. Bregnir had probably failed to hide his surprise, for the Noldo had warned him not to do anything stupid. It was easy to add the rest. If you want to escape, then go. But try to use that weapon against any of us, let alone our lords, and there will be no healer around to keep you alive this time. You are a part of our group now, deal with it and make yourself useful.
As he walked, he could feel his frustration growing. Even though Dinessel had stayed away from him since their first unfortunate encounter, Bregnir, like all the others, wished her to be safe. Even if in that case it meant living with the Kinslayers.
He found her. There was a visible trail leading from the stream to a clump of young spruces growing nearby. He could see small shoes under the lowest branches.
"Get out from there," he said harshly. "Dinessel, did you hear me? That's enough." The hunter crouched impatiently, for the girl didn't move. A bit worried, he moved the nearest branch aside, and when it caused no reaction either, he grabbed the legs and pulled.
The girl yelped as if he had hurt her. She tried to kick and tossed, but the elf pinned her to the ground.
"Calm down, Dinessel! You are safe!" he growled, for she had almost kicked his chin. He turned her on her back and grabbed her wrist when he noticed a knife in her small hand.
Dinessel choked when she realised it was an elf who prevented her from attacking. She ceased struggling.
"Let me go," she sniffled. "It hurts."
Bregnir loosened his grip and retrieved the knife. Dinessel sat, miserable, and stared at the ground. She had a stripe on her cheek where a branch must have hit her.
"Have you gone mad?" asked Bregnir sharply. "You are safe with us, not on your own. Are you hurt?"
"N-no," muttered the girl and rose stiffly. As soon as she was up, the elf grabbed her arm.
"Back to the camp. You'd better not run away again, your lord is furious," he warned her and led her hastily between the trees, indifferent to the tears running down her cheeks.
xxx
Everybody was back in the camp within an hour. The commander was one of the last to return; he and his companion came with a deer, which they passed along to be prepared for dinner.
Amras glanced at the girl who had caused them so much trouble. Dinessel was sitting to the side, covered with a cloak, with her knees dragged up to her chin. Her tussled, half-dried braids were full of needles and she had a nasty weal on her cheek, but seemed otherwise unharmed. When she noticed him, she stopped staring at her feet and moved, but Amras motioned her to stay seated. He temporarily ignored her scared eyes following him and made sure that everybody was back and that the guards had been appointed. Only then did he come back to his ward.
"Look at you."
Dinessel, left alone by the rest of the group, sprang on her feet at his disapproval.
"Go, make yourself presentable," Amras told her and pointed at the stream. "Just don't go too far, nobody wishes to search for you again."
"Yes, my lord." Dinessel nodded and went hastily to the water. It seemed that the hint of annoyance in her favourite guardian's voice was enough to almost make her cry.
Amras gave her a moment to wash away the dirt, making sure that she stayed close. They still had some time before the dinner would be ready, so he intended to use it to settle certain matters. He joined Dinessel as she was trying to comb the needles from her hair. He wasn't really surprised to see that her eyes were wet.
"Now, that's much better," he spoke calmly and sat beside her at the edge of the stream. He pulled a twig from her silver hair and tossed it to the water.
Dinessel nodded and dragged her knees to her chin, wiping her wet hands against her trousers. She stared at her boots again.
"Can you tell me what was that?" Amras quickly came to terms that she would not speak willingly. "Why did you run? It was foolish."
"I was scared." Dinessel sniffled and shuddered at the memory. "I'm sorry, I just wanted..."
"Hush." Amras stopped her. "My intention was to take you hunting and teach you, not to confront you with fighting orcs," he admitted. "The problem is, as you can see, that we cannot predict everything. When you come with us, you have to be prepared for any situation. None of us can promise you that we won't meet the enemy. But the important thing is that you have to obey orders in such cases."
The girl rested her chin on her knees and muttered something. Amras suspected she would have clang to him, had she dared, but clearly she thought he was cross with her, for she didn't move.
"You had every right to be scared, you are but a child." Amras spoke again, deciding that some matters had to be cleared. "When we were your age, Celegorm wouldn't even hear of taking us hunting," he added unexpectedly, more to himself than his little companion. "And we were safe there..."
"We?" Dinessel asked quietly and Amras immediately cursed his comment.
"My twin brother and I," he replied shortly. "Ambarto died long time ago," he explained dryly. The dark sky illuminated by the fire appeared before his eyes and was soon replaced by the corridors of Menegroth. Since Amras had first seen what fire could do to a body, he was grateful he never had a chance to say farewell to his twin.
"I didn't know..."
"It was a long time ago." Amras cut off the matter. He had taken the girl to distract his dark thoughts with teaching, not to dwell on memories. "Right now I am interested in your running away."
Dinessel just nodded again and was silent for a while, and when she finally spoke, she would not look at her guardian.
"It was the first time I saw them since..." The girl worked up the courage and moved closer. Not long ago she would have climbed on Amras's knees without even asking. "They told me to hide, my mum..."
"You have every right to be afraid of them," repeated Amras. "But if you are scared, come to us. To me, to Himeleth, to anyone. We are safer together. Your running forced me to split our forces. It is easier to trap and catch a lone elf. You cannot act like that."
"I won't."
"I cannot promise you that one day we won't run across a party we won't be able defeat," Amras admitted grimly. He wasn't going to promise impossible things. Knowing how desperately they needed more warriors hurt like a strap rubbing against the skin. Each fight now was only prolonging the inevitable end.
Dinessel must have sensed his grim mood, for she shuddered and moved even closer. Amras let her lean against his shoulder and remembered Caranthir, who would purposely drop her on his knees when she was smaller.
"Why are you so wet?" he asked suddenly as the girl's braid rubbed against his wrist.
"I slipped on the stones and fell into the stream," Dinessel admitted in embarrassment. "I didn't look, I just wanted to run away..."
"Then go back to the fire, help with the dinner and dry your clothes," Amras told her. "And first of all, dry your shoes, or you will be very unhappy tomorrow with sore feet."
"Tomorrow...?"
"What did you think?" Amras snorted in amusement. "You won't learn much if you just look after the fire."
The girl's eyes livened and brightened with small hope. Amras felt good when he reached to his belt and retrieved the knife Bregnir had given him back.
"This belongs to you, I guess," he said and returned the weapon. Dinessel grasped the knife and hid it like a treasure.
When he had given her that knife before they left, he had only said that it had been made by Curufin. He had asked his brother once to prepare such thing for his little ward, but Curufin never made it. Amras picked from his forge one that he knew had been made by his brother. Dinessel didn't need to know that.
Thank you for reading. What do you think?
