With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 6: The Nightmare of Waking

After his arms had numbed to the painful position, Gimli had fallen blissfully asleep. Hours later, he moaned as a return to consciousness brought back to him the many hurts of his body, aggravated by the constant bouncing of the jogging orc. For a few moments, he held onto sleep enough to deny what had befallen them. He cracked open his eyes to find the sun shining brightly, high and warm, in sharp contrast to their plight. As his wits returned fully, his thoughts turned to escape. All plans that came to mind were desperate at best. He could not see a way out. Forlorn, he laid his head down against the back of the orc and drifted away again.

The world came back to him suddenly as he hit the ground solidly on his back. Struggling for a breath, he stared up at the clear sky, where the sun was sliding behind the mountains to the west. With a groan, he attempted to roll to his side and stand. It was some time before he made it to his knees and he decided to be satisfied with that. After Aragorn's disengagement from his carrier, he called to him, "Ar—Strider. How do you fare?"

As he waited for an answer, Gimli looked about. The trees of Fangorn were decidedly nearer than when he had last seen them. Orcs milled about scattered fires or huddled together in various levels of conflict, but none yet stood guard over them.

Gimli was about to ask his question again when Aragorn rolled over. "I live yet," he said in a hoarse voice. "Though I do not look forward to feeling my arms again."

Gimli nodded. His throat was too parched for even that much speech. As soon as a grumbling orc dumped the elf beside them, Gimli staggered over to him with an eye on the crowd. He tuned his ear to their grumblings as well, to be better prepared for a sudden change in their mood or for when opportunity might show herself.

"Water," Aragorn whispered, his cracked lips barely moving.

"Strider?"

"We need water. And soon. It has been long since we had any." Aragorn struggled to sit up, favoring his injured leg. With a heaving sigh, he asked, "And how fare you, Gimli?"

Gimli shrugged. "I am likely no worse than either of you. I ache and I am weary, but I shall live. I believe those dreadful creatures were unsure of my health, for I expected poorer treatment."

"Legolas? How do you fare?" Aragorn asked quietly.

Legolas was quiet for a time. He breathed deeply and finally sat up without support before speaking. "I live yet." Aragorn waited, clearly wanting more. "You are correct, Strider. We are in great need of water. This will be our second day without any, and we went with little the two days before our capture. For you both it has already been too long."

"Yes, but for now, we can do nothing for it. And aside from your thirst?"

"As well as can be expected," Legolas finally said.

"Ai! Hush you! No talking or I'll show you what I mean!" They stilled themselves and Gimli glared as the orc stomped away, apparently not intending to enforce his own threat.

"They are testy," Gimli whispered. "And they seem uncertain why we have halted. Naturally, they are quarreling again, though it seemed we had provided enough distraction to quiet some of that. Do you think their plans change?"

Aragorn shook his head, turning away from the troops to avoid notice. "It seems we have marched far. This is not a pause for the daylight. I would expect the coming night to be cause to push farther and faster." He looked at the crowd again. "They are tense." He turned back to them once a pair of orcs passed them. "I cannot do much for your hurts, yet still I would know what wounds you have suffered. Do you feel any bones broken, unease in your stomach or head? These are very important." Gimli sat stubbornly mute beside a silent elf. Aragorn's tone became stern. "We must do all we can to survive this. Or have you forgotten why we are here?"

"Ai! Who said you could talk?" a new orc said and grabbed Aragorn by his worn tunic. "No talking!" Throwing Aragorn down, he stomped over to two orcs talking nearby and assigned them to guard duty.

"I could not forget!" Gimli muttered, as the orcs argued among themselves over the new task. "I have tried to spy the hobbits through the crowd with no success."

After some time under watch, the orcs once more drew themselves into an argument, and Aragorn continued in a whisper as if not interrupted. "If we perish, there will be none to find the hobbits. We must take care and look for the first signs of afflictions that put us in grave danger. So I ask you again, is there aught that you suffer?"

With a sigh, Legolas quietly yielded to Aragorn's questions. "I have no broken limbs. But my head does swim." His voice drifted, as if speaking to himself. "I have never felt such weariness."

Aragorn frowned with one eye on the orcs. He shuffled closer to Legolas and laid his bound hands on his brow, though Legolas only permitted it for a moment before pulling away. "You do not burn with fever." He then reached over and felt Gimli's brow, but he scurried away, unable to bear the attention. "Peace, Gimli. I only wish to be sure."

"Worry about the elf! I am well enough." Gimli found Legolas's lack of focus alarming, and he thought it best that Aragorn do what he could for him while the orcs' attention wandered.

Aragorn reached for Legolas, but a bark from an orc told them their attention had returned. "Ai! What're you doing? No tricks! No talk! No nothing!" He pulled Aragorn away from Legolas roughly, yanked on his bindings, and threw him to the ground, where Aragorn wisely remained.

Gimli tried to look as small and inconsequential as possible and so drew no attention from the orc, who glared at Legolas, shook him for no apparent reason, then stomped back to his post. Gimli watched as Legolas slowly righted himself, cataloging the cuts and bruises Aragorn had aimed to check. They were much like the injuries Gimli sported and that he saw on Aragorn, but more numerous. There was dark bruising around an eye that spread to his temple. Now Gimli could see a knot growing there. That blow might have been what sent the elf into unconsciousness. Gimli understood Aragorn's concern, though he wondered what the man could do for them with bound hands, even if not under this half-hearted scrutiny. He could not even clean their wounds. The dwarf felt despair creeping in on him and concentrated on following the location of the orcs.

When the orc finally relaxed and began conversing once more with his partner, Gimli looked back to Aragorn, who sighed with frustration. "It makes no difference. I have herbs that would aid us, but most are of no use without water. And before healing any hurts, we must ease our thirst. Water is what we need most of all."

They were silent for a while, each in their own minds and worlds of worry. Soon, Aragorn turned to Legolas. "I suggest we rest while we are able." Aragorn shut his eyes and lowered his head to his knees. As Legolas moved stiffly to stand, Gimli wondered what would become of them.

"I will not sleep, not amongst these. You sleep, as you must. I do not need it."

Gimli frowned at Legolas, but the elf stopped him before he spoke. "Sleep, Gimli. You have perhaps only minutes before we are put to march again. I will try to wake you before they come."

"If minutes are all we have, I would rather spend it on watch," Gimli said and stood. "You rest, for you were abused the worst. And do not argue!" he added as Legolas opened his mouth. "Or do you seek to prove that Elves are indeed more stubborn than Dwarves after all?" Legolas's mouth remained open at the unexpected challenge, giving Gimli time to take a few steps and assume his watch. Hearing no response from Legolas, Gimli scanned the crowd. He would be alert for any surprise. But surprises are those events one does not expect.