With Hope and Without Hope

Chapter 13: Beyond Limits

Aragorn dropped limply to the ground, his exhaustion amplified by his efforts. He had waited too long to ask for water. As they awaited their first drink in nearly three days, Aragorn looked wistfully at the trees that abruptly ended the open plains of Rohan with Fangorn Forest. Between the trees was murky and grim, but would make for excellent hiding. He had assumed the orcs would use the Forest as cover by day, rather than skirting the border as they were. Opportunities for escape were as rare as ever.

The orcs had kept a more manageable pace since Saruman's visit, likely an effort to keep their captives alive. They continued to take regular, short halts on the march, bringing a brief respite and a chance to catch their breath. The longer breaks to take a meal or rest often ended in bored orcs looking to play with their captives, as they had this morning. The torment of the orcs and their punishing trek across Rohan, both before and after captivity, strained their reserves of strength.

His fear was greatest for the hobbits, but Aragorn could do little for them as of yet. Their own thirst was sapping their stamina more rapidly than any injury. He knew his own limits and he feared he was fast approaching them. Gimli had proven his great endurance, but he, too, was tiring. He spoke less, walked slower, and had begun to stumble, needing Legolas's aid on occasion. Soon escape would be beyond their reach.

"How fares your leg, Strider?" Gimli asked, moving closer to the man that they might speak and not be overheard.

Aragorn sighed. "As it was. Our injuries will not begin to heal until we have water, though food would be better." He looked to Legolas, who sat gazing into the Forest lit by the early sun. "This is true even for Elves, is it not?"

"In time, lack of sustenance would make it so, yes," Legolas answered carefully. "Nevertheless, as of yet, I fare better than either of you."

"Legolas, do not deny what is plain to see," Aragorn said, failing to subdue a spark of anger. "Your injuries linger as ours do. Even Elves need water, if not as often as mortals do." From what he could see, Legolas bore more bruises, and his cuts were deeper, causing him to bleed more. None of these injuries healed as expected. Without food or water, even an Elf would falter.

"Regardless, I will heal," Legolas said curtly.

"But not quickly enough," Aragorn added, then lowered his voice. He was pleased the orc had opted to go for the water himself, offering the double advantage of leaving them without a guard nearby to overhear them. "I apologize, my friend. I am afraid any plan of escape I may devise relies on you—at your full strength. You are the best hope we have of any escape or survival. I regret to put that responsibility on you, but you will likely be the only one to find freedom from this."

Legolas held Aragorn's gaze but betrayed nothing of his own thoughts. "And so I am to rescue us all single-handedly?"

Aragorn allowed himself a faint smile. "I know not how we might escape on this march, bound and under guard as we are. But if we do not find an opportunity to liberate ourselves before Isengard, fate will not be kind to us."

"In that you speak truly. And you will be the first to suffer at the hands of Saruman, if he learns what destiny holds for you. But I fear they will see no further use for Gimli." He looked at the dwarf with anxiety he had not before revealed. "He must escape first."

Gimli grunted, but Aragorn interrupted any response he aimed to give. "I must disagree. While your reasoning is sound, it is also true that if we flee, they are likely to use arrows. Only you can hope to avoid or outrun an arrow—if you are strong enough."

Aragorn looked about, checking on the attention of nearby orcs before continuing. They prepared to break camp and were sufficiently occupied to not bother with their prisoners, who made no trouble. "I thought perhaps you could run into the Forest. It will make pursuit more difficult and perhaps the orcs will hesitate to enter Fangorn."

"Fangorn!" Gimli cried then quickly lowered his voice. "Of course they would hesitate! As should Legolas! Celeborn warned us of those trees. Who knows what will befall him there!"

"No worse than what will befall us here," Aragorn answered crossly. "It is not without its flaws as a strategy, but after much thought, I deem it the safest chance to take. Think you differently, Legolas?"

Legolas merely shook his head, gazing into Fangorn in the distance. Aragorn was troubled by the doubt he saw in his friend's eyes. If Legolas doubted he could escape successfully, he was more wearied than Aragorn had suspected. If he were fully hale, there would be no question. Legolas could make the eaves before one arrow fell. When he answered Aragorn, though, the man heard more hope than doubt. "Think you that we might free me of these cuffs?"

Aragorn's doubts eased a bit with the glimpse of elvish mettle. "We will try."