Unleashed

Chapter 2: Come play with me

A deep rumbling sound without a distinct source of origin vibrated through his chest. The darkness that had held him motionless slowly made way for daylight. Where the darkness had been soothing and calming, the light was accompanied by blinding flashes of pain, sharp as the blade of his Elven knives.

His sensitive hearing was the first of his senses to return to him and he could hear leaves rub against branches in the soft wind, waves of water dash against a distant river bank and that deep rumbling sound that held some resemblance to an animal breathing.

As Legolas tried to determine where exactly that breathing animal was located, his sense of touch told him that a warm presence was lying on top of him, heavy like a ton of rocks burying him alive. He inhaled deeply through his nose to assure himself that he was not buried and could still breathe freely. A sharp, animalistic scent penetrated his nose and instantly alerted him that the unknown breathing animal was close. Far too close.

Sunlight hurt his eyes when his sense of sight slowly returned, and he blinked his eyes to rid them of the dryness that was limiting him to see his surroundings. Whirls of blurry colors shaped themselves into forms with sharp contrasts. Flashes of green and blue became the countless leaves on a tree surrounded by the bright afternoon sky.

Finally he regained control over his muscles and tried to move his head. Little sparks of pain caused by his protesting neck told him that he should be careful not to move too quickly and injure himself even more. He could feel the stinging pain of countless scratches and cuts over his entire body and his left shouldert lit like it was on fire, the invisible flames eating through his flesh. When he tried to move his legs a stinging pain so intensely that it made his eyes water shot through his right ankle.

He was hurt. Badly hurt. But he knew he could not stay there, lying on the ground helplessly, easy prey for any who would wish him harm. His senses had told him that he was not alone. An animal of some sorts was nearby and Legolas had no intention of falling prey to an unknown beast.

Despite the protesting muscles he moved his head again and tilted it off the ground so he could examine his direct surroundings. A wave of panic flushed through him when he stared into a pair of feral, yellow eyes who were watc him him intensely.

Memories of the day´s events returned to him with the force of a sword striking him down, and he inhaled involuntarily. The Orc had not lost his life in their tumble down the hill but was lying alive and seemingly well on his bruised and battered body.

The beast´s nostrils flared as it smelled the air around him while the yellow eyes kept staring directly at Legolas, holding not the slightest hint of fear repirepidation. The deep rumbling sound the beast produced while he drew his breaths intensified into a forceful growl as the Orc opened his mouth to flash his sharp teeth.

The Orc moved his blood-covered hand towards Legolas´ face and drew a single claw across the Elf´s scratched cheek. Legolas´ eyes widened as he expected the Orc to use his talons to rip through the skin of his neck but the beast did no such thing. The claw on his skin was moving inquisitively, tracing the small cuts created by branches striking against his features as he had tumbled down the hill.

Even if the Orc did not act violently at that very moment, Legolas knew he had to get away from it as fast as he could. With his weapons lost and his body injured, Legolas had no idea how he was going to fight the Orc but anything would be better than just lying beneath it and letting it rip him apart inch by inch.

With every last bit of energy he could muster, Legolas tightened all the muscles in his body, ignored the excruciating pain that ripped through him, and pushed himself off the ground, throwing the beast off. The Orc roared violently when the Elf crushed his knees against the side of the beast´s hard body. Legolas screamed out in pain when he tried to put pressure on his ankle to attack the Orc once more. Black, blurry spots invaded his sight and he feared he would lose consciousness again. Taking deep breaths to keep his grip on the reality of the here and now, he curled his hands around the Orc´s neck and squeezed.

Strong hands with sharp claws grabbed his arms, ripped them away, and pushed them aside. Legolas lost his support, tried to use his legs to keep himself steady, but fell on top of the Orc when he twisted his injured ankle.

He could feel the warm, moist breath of the Orc on his face when it exhaled sharply, as if in pain. The beast roared, exposing his teeth while his yellow eyes briefly rolled back. Legolas realized that the Orc was injured somehow, and the Elf was now determined to use those injuries for his own benefit. He glanced around, searching for any sign of heavy blood loss. When he cast his eyes downwards he found the reason why the Orc had let out its roar in pain. The beast´s right forearm was damaged badly. The sharp ends of broken, white bones stuck out of the dark flesh while black blood oozed from the hideous wound.

Legolas did not think twice about his next move, and grabbed the injured forearm with both hands. He squeezed until all the blood was forced out of his fingers, leaving his knuckles almost as white as the beast´s broken bones. His fingers dug into the flesh of the open wound, and were instantly covered with dark, warm blood.

While the Orc let out another deafening roar he used his uninjured arm to punch Legolas off him. The steel-like fist collided with Legolas´ chest and drove all the air out of the Elf´s lungs. He flew backwards, and landed hard on his wounded shoulder. The pain that ripped through him made him want to scream out at the same time his body involuntarily tried to suck air back into his lungs. He lay on the ground, panting short, raspy breaths that filled his mouth with dust and sand.

Legolas turned around as quickly as his battered body would allow him, and looked at the Orc. The beast sat on the ground only six feet away from him, his yellow eyes watching Legolas sharply. Neither of them moved. Both just stared at the other, carefully trying to determine what step to take next. Legolas studied the Orc´s features while he tried to will his own body to ignore the pain that was now a constant presence, and pulsed through him at a steady pace.

The Orc´s skin was dark, almost black, with red-brownish undertones. Muscled limps, displaying the beast´s obvious strength, and long, black hair, partially tied together to keep it out of the Orc´s face. A heavy forehead, yellow eyes, a flat nose with large nostrils, and a mouth twisted up into a sneer, displaying the pointed teeth. But it weren´t the animalist features that caught Legolas´ gaze. The Elf couldn´t take his eyes off the black, pointed ears that were visible through the abundance of thick hair. So much like his own.

“Do you want to die, Elf?”

The deep, rumbling voice startled Legolas and he redirected his gaze back to the Orc´s eyes. They were looking at him curiously, taking in every inch of his body.

“You are hurt.” The beast´s voice was like his body; dark, strong and forceful.

Legolas swallowed and tried to moisten his mouth, which was still dry from inhaling sand and dust earlier. The Orc was speaking to him. He had not expected the beast to start talking. But seeing the state of his body, Legolas decided that he might as well answer the Orc, since fighting was not an op. He. He did not have the strength left to battle this beast.

“As are you.” His voice sounded raspy, nothing like his normal, melodic sound. Legolas swallowed again.

“A scratch.” The Orc glanced at the bleeding wound on his arm, and his dark lips turned into a grin. He brought the open wound to his mouth and licked some of the black blood away lazily.

“What is it that you want, Orc?” Legolas asked, feeling incredibly insecure about this whole situation. There was his foe, his enemy, sitting too close to him, literally ing ing his wounds while he should be trying to kill him.

“I am no Orc!” The yellow eyes snapped up, and narrowed while they stared at Legolas face. “I am the Uruk-hai!”

“Fine. Uruk-hai,” Legolas snapped. This was beyond anything he had ever encountered. Legolas did not talk to his enemies. He fought them, killed them. He did not communicate with them civilly. “Tell me what you want, Uruk-hai.”

“I am the Uruk-hai, but that is not my name,” the beast said while he sat back, one clawed hand firmly on the ground to support massmassive weight of his body while resting his injured arm on his muscled thighs.

Legolas resisted the urge to shake his head in an attempt to rid it of the surrealism of this situation. Still, talking meant not fighting, and Legolas was well aware of the benefits of not fighting this Orc, no, this Uruk-hai. Talking would keep him alive, at least for now.

“Then tell me your name, Uruk-hai. Perhaps I will carve it on a headstone when I bury your dead body after I kill you.”

The Uruk-hai´s lips twitched up into something that resembled a smile and a deep, thunderous sound penetrated Legolas´ ears. After briefly wondering what exactly that unique mixture of a growl and a roar was, Legolas realized that the Uruk-hai was laughing.

“My name is Lurtz.” The Uruk-hai´s lips were still drawn up into a grin. “Tell me your name, Elf. Maybe I will whisper it into the ears of your pack mates so they will know what happened to the one they lost, right before I slice their throats.”

“Legolas. That is my name, but I doubt that you will get to speak it to my friends. Your corpse will be rotting in the sun before you will ever get the chance.”

“Legolas.” Lurtz´s pronunciation was almost measured, as if to try it out in his deep, forceful voice. Legolas shivered when the sound washed over him. It was perhaps the oddest thing he had ever heard. His Elven name spoken by a dark creature.

“Do you want to die, Lego” Th” The grin had left Lurtz´s features and he stared at Legolas with slightly narrowed eyes that held expectance.

Legolas shook his head once, more to answer the question for himself than for the Uruk-hai watching him. “No, I do not wish to die. I value my life.”

“Then stop fighting me.” Lurtz darted his tongue out and licked his lips while producing a soft, purring sound.

“How can I not fight you?” Legolas asked while he clenched his hands into fists. He felt as if he was losing control over his normally calm nature. Feelings of irritation, confusion and combativeness seeped into his mind as he took deep breaths to keep a grip on himself. “You are my foe, are you not? We are at war with your kind.”

“There is no war here.” Lurtz raised his injured arm, and waved his clawed hand through the air between them. “Our packs have moved on. All there is left is you and me.”

The cold feeling of panic wrapped itself around Legolas´ heart, and he shifted his head so he could focus on any signs of the presence of his friends. But he could sense none. No sounds of battle in the distance or footsteps made by a man, a Dwarf or a Hobbit. Had his friends abandoned him? Had they left him behind to die?

“What do you suggest?” Legolas asked, his voice now trembling even though he tried to keep his feelings of panic hidden from his foe.

“That we do not fight.” Lurtz started to lean forward as if to decrease the distance between him and the Elf, but he stopped the moment he saw Legolas shift back instinctively.

“Are you offering a truce?” Legolas asked, his feelings of irritation and combativeness now replaced with anticipation, interest and sheer curiosity. Lurtz furrowed his heavy brown and his yellow eyes dartedm Lem Legolas´ face to the ground and back. Legolas couldn´t repress a smile when he realized that Lurtz had no idea what ´truce´ meant and yet he was offering it anyway.

“I offer not to fight you, if you do not fight me,” Lurtz said, his rumbling voice filled with irritation.

Legolas´ common sense was telling him not to trust this Uruk-hai. But given the circumstances, his body injured and his friends nowhere to be found, he did not have any other choice.

“That w be be a truce.” Legolas held his breath, daring not to hope that the Uruk-hai would offer him such a valuable thing.

“Then that is what I offer,” Lurtz said slowly. His eyes reflected the sun´s rays and seemed to light up for a short moment. Legolas kept his own eyes locked with them, trying to see any sign that this offer was anything but sincere. But he could find no sign of deceit or betrayal.

“And I accept.” As soon as the words had left his mouth Legolas inwardly prayed that he would not come to regret this decision. A truce would at least keep him alive, perhaps even long enough for him to find his friends. He could then decide what to do with the life of the Uruk-hai who was currently watching him with a feral grin.