The following chapter contains graphic violence: Read at your own risk.
As the two elves embraced upon the balcony, a set of glowing eyes watched from the shadows. Like two fireflies they flickered as the being they belonged to blinked, adjusting his eyes to the darkness. Though Galadriel's garden was beautiful, it was also full of concealed positions that the one who the eyes belonged to could take advantage of.
"Lurkai, there!" He hissed silently, his voice slightly muffled by a grievous scar that deformed his mouth. "It's the raven-haired elf that killed our men!"
Another set of eyes appeared beside the first, these ones fiery orange and filled with cold hate.
"Ah... And he's unarmed. Gormok, lend me your bow." The aforementioned orc, a short, deformed little creature, handed his weapon to Lurkai with a snort that sounded vaguely like a laugh.
Lurkai fit an arrow to the string and drew back slowly. He bared his sharp teeth slightly as he felt the string against the side of his cheek. The feeling was familiar to him, for he had trained extensively with bows and almost preferred them to swords.
He carefully lined up the shot, aiming directly at the dark-haired elf's back.
"Wait," Maugash said, a wicked grin spreading across his face. "Shift your aim to the she-elf."
Lurkai joined in the grin, his fiery eyes glowing with anticipation. He wanted to see the elf suffer, for in his eyes elves were a plague upon Middle Earth that must be eradicated. They had hunted his people for too long, driven them to the verge of extinction even once, long ago. He remembered it... Hiding in the mountains, fighting for scraps while the bright-eyed elves roamed about freely outside. It was a time that would not be repeated.
Their pristine, sickeningly perfect cities, their flowing hair and vibrant eyes, their smooth, weak skin... it all made Lurkai want to retch. They did not belong in Middle Earth.
His fingers tensed, the rough horsehair of the bowstring digging into his calloused skin. He breathed in slowly, methodically, his eye running down the length of the arrow to the silver hair of the she-elf.
He narrowed his eyes, his breath catching slightly as he prepared to release...
Suddenly a bright blade flew through the darkness, sending the head of the orc next to him sailing through the air until it bounced off of his shoulder with a sickening crunch. Lurkai wiped an arm across his eyes to clear the blood from his vision, just in time to see an elven warrior swinging his curved blade at him. Lurkai dodged the blade and grabbed the elf's arm, immediately breaking it and throwing the elf to the ground with enough force to crack his ribs. The elf just had time to let out a cry of pain before the massive orc stomped an iron-hobnailed boot down on his head, ending his life. Lurkai let out a primal growl as he looked up. Around him were dozens of elves that had appeared out of seemingly nowhere, fully armed and engaged in battle with Lurkai's orcs. He glanced back toward the balcony, but neither of the two elves that had been there before were anywhere in sight.
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"How???" Taliel asked as Caledorn quickly slammed the door behind them. Both elves were breathless, the sudden panic of the previous moments tiring them. Caledorn's eyes immediately began to rove across the room, searching for the armor that he so desperately needed.
"I do not know. If the orcs have entered the Golden Wood, circumstances are more dire than they first seemed. Some dark magic would have to be at work to allow them passage."
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(PTII)Defenders of Middle Earth: A Middle Earth Story(Book 4)
FanfictionWith Sauron's advance in the West temporarily halted, the Lastborn and his companions travel East over the Misty Mountains to aid the dwarves of Erebor. But more than just orcs and Easterlings await them there. One of Sauron's most powerful servants...