A Single Dream is More Powerful Than a Thousand Realities

Tumbling Down

WARNING: Depictions of Violence

The furious orc spit in her face and lunged towards her. Lyla scrunched downward, pressing herself as flat as possible against the bottom of the barrel while searching to get a hold of her sword before the pale orc managed to impale her. But, she was at such an odd angle that she couldn't quite get her sword to move.

Then another 'thump' resounded around the inside of the barrel and, to Lyla's surprise, Azog's form was pulled backwards.

She heard the shout of a man.

An elvish man.

The barrel dropped suddenly and Lyla was pitched forward as the barrel tumbled top over tail into the water. The barrel filled with the frigid crystal water and Lyla choked and sputtered, trying to keep her breathing stable.

She heard more shouts above her as the barrel twisted and pivoted, rocking Lyla's small frame from side to side, slamming it against the hard wooden sides of her temporary home.

Azog gave a low, bitter yell and then a pale white arm was reaching into the barrel. It grasped onto the back of Lyla's coat, and she was yanked upwards, clawing at Azog's grasp, kicking her feet.

The barrel rocked sharply to the left as it tumbled down the river, sending Azog and Lyla over the side, the orc's grip still firm on Lyla's jacket.

She was pulled from the barrel and into the frigid water. She gasped as the breath was knocked from her lungs as the water rushed around her pressing her body with such force, filling her nostrils, making her dizzy.

But even as she could feel Azog's grip on her coat, pulling her downwards, something snatched at her arm and tugged upward, pulling the hobbit's face above the waterline.

Lyla coughed and kicked her and gazed up into the face of Legolas, who was cocooned inside the barrel and was desperately trying to keep a hold of the tiny hobbit.

"I've got you," He murmured pulling upwards his grip firm but gentle.

Lyla reached her other arm out to grab at the wooden rim of the barrels mouth, trying to aid in Legola's rescue attempts.

But Azog would have none of it. The pale orc brought his clawed arm upwards and pulled his weight around the hobbit's neck, pulling Lyla backwards with such force that her grip on the barrel slipped. The orc hissed lowly in her ear, contempt dripping with every syllable.

Her heart started hammering.

But Legolas would not release her arm. He strained to pull her upwards, the distance between them straining Lyla's arm in a painful way.

"I'll not let him take you," he whispered to her, "I promise."

How many times had she heard that promise before?

A large wave of water washed over her head as the barrel caught a rapid and twisted violently to Lyla's left. Lyla was whipped in a circle, the force of which threw Azog backwards and off of her back, as she desperately clung to the determined elf's grip.

He head was spinning as she spun around, her fingers digging into Legolas' arm as the the water ebbed at her resolve and her grip.

They hit a bump as the current picked up, rocking the barrel to one side and then the other.

And suddenly Lyla was airborne as Legolas tugged quite forcefully, pulling the water-logged hobbit back inside the barrel, grasping her tightly to him as they continued down the river.

"Sweet Eru," Legolas gasped panting as the barrel rocked and twisted, "You attract a rather large amount of danger for someone so small."

Lyla turned her face up to gaze at the elf who had a firm hold on her. A small smile lit his face, his blue eyes sparkling in amusement. With his blonde hair sticking to his head in a haphazard way, he truly looked a sight.