Capítulo 70: Chapter 70: Change
[General POV]
-Cabed-en-Aras, First Age 499-
"Ah." Letting out a sigh, Beleg reclined against a stone lying by his feet. His green cloak was torn, and his characteristic silver-blonde hair was stained with the dark red blood of his enemy.
"Splash."
Beside him, his comrade Turin had collapsed into the cold river, its clarity darkened by the blood that dripped from the dragon they had slain with their deadly coordination. Anglachel in his hand buzzed with satisfaction, the will inside it in a state of euphoria. With exhaustion, Turin raised his arms, carefully removing the Dragon-helm that had covered his face.
His long, raven-black hair fell onto his shoulders, and a slight moisture ran down his strikingly beautiful face, so beautiful that he could easily be mistaken for an elf. Sweat covered his brow, a clear sign of how difficult the decisive battle against the dragon Glaurung had been, an abomination created by Morgoth after corrupting one of Eru's great creations.
"You've completed your revenge against Glaurung… What do you plan to do now, Turin?" Beleg asked, his eyes reflecting concern. The empty, unmotivated look in Turin's eyes worried him.
There was no doubt that Glaurung's death hadn't fully erased the mark left on Turin. Beleg still remembered that day; if it hadn't been for his intervention, Turin would have made a grave mistake that he would have regretted.
"I don't know," came Turin's almost whispered words. There was little that motivated him to continue. Now he was sure his sister was free from the spell cast by the dragon, a spell that had also affected him. He owed his best friend, Beleg, a debt of gratitude; had it not been for him, he wouldn't have heard Finduilas's cry after the sack of Nargothrond, a mistake that could have cost her life.
Beleg's worry grew. He feared his friend might make another mistake, so he remained silent for a few moments, searching for the right words to lift Turin's spirits. "You could return to Doriath with me. You, Finduilas, and your sister can live with me. King Thingol holds you in high esteem and would not refuse your stay."
Turin remained silent, pondering whether to accept his friend's offer. His silence stretched on for several minutes until he finally shook his head. "I'm sorry, Beleg. I don't want to return there."
"In that case, I'll stay by your side until you decide what to do." If Turin still didn't know what he wanted, Beleg would follow him until he did. He had no intention of leaving him alone, even if it meant going against King Thingol's orders. Turin was his best friend, someone with whom he had formed a deep brotherly bond.
With a sigh, Turin looked up, gazing at the evening sky. He could vaguely see the sun setting, giving way to the starry night. Something in his expression changed at the sight of the sunset. "Finduilas has freed me from half of my curse. Now I must find another way to lift the other half," he explained, keeping his eyes on the horizon. "I will take them to my cousin Tuor; they will be safe with him." He paused for a few seconds. "Perhaps this will be the last time we meet, Beleg."
Beleg looked into Turin's eyes, and the emptiness was gone. There was now a glimmer of determination in his eyes, which lifted Beleg's spirits. If there was one thing he knew about Turin, it was that when he set his mind to something, he would see it through, no matter the cost. There was no longer any need to intervene.
"Then this will be our farewell, Turin. After this, I must return to Doriath." He could go back without worry; Turin was strong enough that Beleg didn't need to concern himself with his safety.
Turin smiled, a rare sight. His usual demeanor was serious and reserved, and he rarely smiled. "You've accompanied me through countless battles. You saved me from Glaurung's influence. I owe you much, my friend. I hope we meet again in the future, and if not, I hope our descendants will stand together as you and I have." He rarely showed his emotions, but this was an exception.
This might be the last time he would see his best friend. After all, his quest would take a long time, and during that time, both he and Beleg could perish in battle or by some other fate.
Beleg, ever the cheerful and emotional elf, showed his feelings more openly. His teary eyes were a clear sign that Turin's words had deeply affected him.
Returning the smile, the two shared a farewell embrace. "You can count on it, Turin. If we have descendants, they will find each other someday, I'm sure of it."
Nodding, Turin turned and walked in the direction of Finduilas and his sister Níniel, who had watched the battle from a distance. Now that the dragon was dead, they approached, only to witness Turin and Beleg's farewell.
Not wanting to interrupt their moment, they stood by, observing the beautiful friendship. Beleg walked in the opposite direction, each going their separate ways, with only the Cabed-en-Aras river dividing their paths.
-Present-
"So, do you plan to join us?" Aldril asked Tauriel, who had met him and the group of dwarves early in the day. Everyone was preparing to depart, so it was surprising for the dwarves to see an elf joining them. Particularly, Thorin was not very happy about it and planned to reject the elf, but Tauriel's next words silenced him.
"No, I plan to accompany you," Tauriel said as she approached Aldril. Her cheerful mood was highly contagious; it was clear she was eager to leave Thranduil's elven realm.
Her happiness spread to the dwarves, who, seeing her proximity to Aldril, offered no resistance to her joining them. After all, anyone who is a friend of Aldril is a friend of theirs, or at least they would not be too rude.
"Besides, I promised Lady Tindómiel that I would look after you, and if you face the dragon, I intend to help," she said with a palpable determination in her eyes. Whenever she was near Aldril, she could show her hidden emotions, something curious about how open she could be only with him; however, it didn't bother her.
Aldril smiled, raising an eyebrow. "Are you sure?" The confidence with which Tauriel spoke was pleasing to him. The more help in his fight against Smaug, the better the chances of survival. The battle might be very difficult, but he would do everything possible to come out victorious.
"I am. I'm not someone weak, and this bow can penetrate a dragon's scales," she said while showing Belthronding, the gift left by her late father. To Aldril, it was an exceedingly beautiful bow that contrasted with Anglachel due to its color.
The dwarves wanted to mock that statement, clearly not believing it. However, they remained silent out of respect for Aldril. Moreover, it seemed that this elf was enchanted by Aldril; they thought that in the future, she and Aldril might become a couple, so they maintained a tacit understanding by keeping quiet.
As Aldril approached to examine Tauriel's bow more closely, a soft humming came from behind him, catching his attention. He felt the will of Anglachel, as if it were happy to reunite with someone again. This clearly puzzled him. He looked at Tauriel to ask about her bow, but she was also looking at him with wide eyes.
She had felt the will of her bow as she had the night before; however, this time it was as if it were greeting an old friend. Both she and Aldril exchanged looks, clearly bewildered.
"It seems they know each other," Aldril said while glancing at Tauriel's bow, to which she nodded in agreement. "Yes, we can find out more later about why they convey this sense of familiarity," she responded.
Thorin, eager to leave the elven realm, interrupted their conversation. "You can talk on the way; it's time to go." He was not opposed to the elf following them, after all, he had already explained that she would only accompany Aldril.
With that said, the expedition group set off, leaving Thranduil's realm with Tauriel leading them to the harbor.
After all, she was the only one who knew the way, as Thranduil had not bid them farewell; he had already said goodbye to Aldril and Tauriel, so he did not see the need to bid farewell to the dwarves.
The journey was peaceful, without any interruptions. It took only a few minutes to leave the underground realm, being welcomed by the radiant morning light. The vegetation surrounding them showed that not all of the forest was withered; at least this part was vibrant, reminiscent of the times when the forest was full of vitality.
As Aldril observed the familiar path, he became alert. Orcs might attack them, or they might have gone unnoticed, allowing them a smooth exit without any incidents.
The path to the harbor lay alongside a river, where, without their intervention, the dwarves would have escaped with Bilbo's help via barrels. Fortunately, he avoided them escaping that way.
-Half an hour later-
A group controlling the river exit was on guard at a slatted door that prevented objects from moving beyond it. A pair of elves were vigilantly watching for any anomalies. Upon seeing Tauriel, they made a slight bow, respecting her rank as captain. Seeing her guiding the group of dwarves, they offered no resistance and let them pass.
However, on the way, Aldril stopped. He remembered this place, so he immediately activated his hawk-eye ability, inspecting the surroundings, only to notice vague figures moving through the dense forest. He had clearly anticipated what was approaching.
Aldril's behavior drew the dwarves' attention, who looked at him in confusion. However, seeing his serious face, they realized that something was going on.
The months they had spent with him made them aware that when Aldril remained silent, it meant he had seen something. Immediately, they all drew their weapons in a tacit understanding.
The elves, not understanding what was happening, also drew their bows and aimed them at the dwarves, believing they might attack.
"Shiss"
An arrow shot toward Aldril's heart, but he had already seen it coming. With a swift motion of his hand, he caught the arrow just inches from his chest. Aldril looked at the shooter. Without his enhanced stats, he wouldn't have reacted in time.
In the distance, his eyes locked onto a hideous-looking orc. A metal piece was embedded in the middle of its skull, and its crooked teeth formed a cruel grin, quickly replaced by a frown as it saw how easily Aldril had stopped the arrow.
"Bolg," Aldril whispered, recognizing the orc who had shot at him. In a provocative gesture, he crushed the arrow and unsheathed Anglachel and Anguirel, ready for the imminent battle.
"Orcs!!" Balin shouted, and his cry was the signal for the hidden orcs to charge out of the dense forest, rushing toward the dwarves, who were already prepared.
With a quick move, Aldril advanced ahead of the rest of the group, his twin swords sweeping through the orcs foolish enough to face him. Each step he took was a dance of blood and death, a single cut all it took. The deadly dance of Rellana showed its full potential.
"Shis," "Shis," "Shis," "Shis."
Arrows whizzed past him. Tauriel and the elves guarding the gate provided support from the rear, quick to respond to the orcs' surprise attack.
The dwarves weren't far behind, attacking with axes, swords, and hammers. There were many orcs, but the dwarves had already proven that when in optimal condition, numbers were no obstacle to victory.
Aldril continued his deadly dance. With a diagonal slash, he cut through the face of an oncoming orc.
A 180-degree kick snapped another orc's neck, and he slashed an X across two more that tried to take him from behind.
"Shis," "Spalk."
Another arrow flew in his direction, deflected by Anguirel. Aldril focused on Bolg, he was the target. As long as he reached and killed him, the orcs would have no leader and would scatter.
However, Bolg sensed Aldril's intentions and tactically moved to the rear, preparing another arrow, this one dripping with something dark. Aldril saw this and quickened his pace, but dozens of orcs crowded around him, slowing his advance.
Aldril noticed Borg's wicked grin. The bowstring tightened, and he released the arrow, but this time it wasn't aimed at Aldril. The arrow whizzed toward a small hobbit who had just finished stabbing an orc.
Aldril saw the direction Borg aimed. "BILBO, GET DOWN!!!" he shouted as loudly as he could. But in the heat of battle, Bilbo didn't have much time to react. He only saw the arrow coming toward him, frozen in place with fear.
"Splash."
A piercing sound echoed, and Aldril's eyes widened in disbelief. Bolg, on the other hand, grinned with glee. The arrow had hit someone.
Bilbo closed his eyes, terrified to open them, but the pain never came. Cautiously, he opened his eyes, only to recoil in shock. In front of him stood Bombur, an arrow through his chest.
"Ah, you're okay, Bilbo. I'm glad," Bombur said with a relieved smile as his eyes slowly closed. His body lost the strength to stand, collapsing backward.
"NO! BOMBURRR!!!!"
****
Nasty orcs! here you have your chapter of the day, I haven't been feeling well lately, I don't know if it's depression or something else, I already have an appointment with the therapist planned, I hope I can get out all the emotion I have inside.
Remember to support me on patreon where there are 15 advanced chapters, also where the first chapters of my next fic will be uploaded.
"p@treon.com/Mrnevercry"
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Ax_nevermay_cry
Ax_nevermay_cry Ugh, I think I'm dying, some power stones will revive me.
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