Some Futile Hope by Luxa

| | |

Part Two: Chapter Seven

Elrond finds himself a part of a group, even as rations grow shorter.

Second Age, February 13th, 1699. 2:19 P.M.

"...And then the mortal actually saw me hiding in the tree, I swear! I've never thought they had keen eyesight until that moment. He chased me down and yelled at me to never bother his daughter again, even though I was really just chasing that damn horse...Moral of the story, never underestimate mortals."

The end of the story was met with chuckles all around, including Elrond, who was changing out of his training clothes at the end of one of the hastily-built wooden sheds they used to refresh themselves in after the daily training exercises. He was turned slightly away from them, feeling as awkward around the burly soldiers as ever. He knew that if they'd been in Lindon and he was not their commander, they would have either ignored or sneered at him. In the past few years that had changed, but still...now they were forced to respect him, and Elrond worried that they resented him.

Elrond rarely trained without Glorfindel, and without him, he felt exposed. The soldiers often told stories to distract themselves from short rations, the bitter cold, and their tight situation, but Elrond was never comfortable enough to join.

"Once," began another soldier. "My love and I were bathing in the river, you know, in the bare, and, lo and behold! Our entire regiment showed up do their laundry! We had to hide behind some bushes for ours. Our skin was wrinkled for ages!"

"You call that a story?" snorted Elrond before he could stop himself. Everyone fell silent and stared at him as he froze, fingers halfway trough unbuckling his belt. He blushed and wished he could disappear into the earth. His problems of starving and being killed by orcs weren't enough, no, he had to have eternal embarrassment added to the mix.

"You got something better, my lord?" asked one of the soldiers, learning on the wall and seemingly oblivious to his near naked state.

Elrond seemed to have lost the ability to speak, so he just shrugged. The soldier raised his eyebrows.

"You can't just deliver a challenge like that and not deliver," said another soldier. He was smiling, and Elrond was hoping it wasn't in derision.

"I have stories," said Elrond finally. "I'm just afraid-"

"They'll offend our delicate sensibilities?" said the first soldier, grinning. "If you're worried about them being about another male, trust me, we've heard them before."

Someone laughed. "Remember that time Narië got himself-"

"Shhhh," someone hissed, and Elrond blushed even deeper.

He managed to keep his face calm as he said, "I'm not sure I should divulge my stories, seeing as they all involve our High King."

There were grins all around at this statement; Elrond failed to see what was funny.

"From what we know of him, I doubt he'd mind," said the naked soldier, still leaning against the wall. Elrond wondered if he was getting splinters from the uneven wood. "Besides, you're one of us, aren't you? It's only right."

Suddenly warm for a different reason, Elrond found himself smiling too. "You're right, I doubt Erienion would mind."

"So?" prompted someone.

Elrond continued divesting himself of his training clothes as he said, "Once, on a trip to the country, our High King decided it would be a fantastic idea to drag me along on an ill-planned trip to some natural hot springs. Of course, being him, he hadn't thoroughly checked to make sure we were at the right ones, and..."

Elrond continued and, at the end of the story, when everyone was laughing, found himself laughing right along with them.

Second Age, June 2nd, 1699. 6:12 A.M.

It was no surprise to Elrond when the squire that woke him that morning informed him, with a drawn face and tight frown, that the last of their rations had been exhausted and no new game had been brought in.

Elrond took a deep breath, hating that he had to issue this order.

"Begin on the horses, then," he said, seeing his disgust mirrored in the squire's eyes.

They had to eat. He could not risk his soldiers', let alone civilian, lives just because they all had sentimental attachments to their horses. They only live thirty or so years, he kept telling himself. They die in a flash of an eye to the Eldar. There was no game being brought in, even though the weather was improving. He couldn't let people starve.

But that didn't change the bond every cavalry soldier had with his horse after they fought and survived battles with each other. Elrond knew that when he issued the order, every Elf whose horse was first chosen was doing the same.

Including Elrond. He went out to the stables, one of the first buildings made, and said goodbye to his horse.

She was very quiet when he took her out of the stables for the last time, his actions mirrored by a dozen gaunt soldiers around him, soldiers who could not find it within themselves to meet his eyes, not today. He didn't blame them.

He stroked her mane, feeling terrible. The camp would be quiet today, and the next day, and the day after that. Unless, of course, thought Elrond guiltily, for the screams of horses.

That thought broke something inside him, and he pulled his horse to him as he began to cry into her mane.

Was he just prolonging their deaths? The river to their back was leagues out of the orcs way, plus protected from large armies through natural defenses, but surely they would attempt something eventually. He was just lengthening their misery. A real commander surely have ridden his troops into battle by now, instead of foraging pointlessly for food. A real commander would be brave, and strong, and not an out-of-place scholar pushed into battle by misplaced love.

But they didn't have a real commander. They had him, and Elrond was going to give it the best he had.

Second Age, August 27th, 1699. 8:42 P.M.

The horse meat was almost gone. Elrond had known it couldn't last forever, but for all his supposed wisdom he hadn't been able to figure out what they were going to do next. Neither could any of his council. Instead they were sitting ducks starving right into the hands of their enemies.

Many of his councillors were advising him to attack, but the hidden entrance had been made to defend the valley, and it was not optimal for an offensive attack. If it was lost, the orcs would be able to stream in and slaughter the civilians that continued to place all their trust in him.

Glorfindel advised him to wait. The Valar will see us, said Glorfindel, but Elrond didn't trust the Valar. They had been content to sit idly by during the First Age, only rousing from their centuries long pledge of apathy when his father had arrived on their shores. He could not forget the songs Maglor would sing to him and his brother as a child, songs of grief about their defeat at the Battle of Unnumbered Tears. Where were the Valar then? If the Valar were really going to step in, wasn't it more likely to be when Gil-galad himself was fighting with all the forces of Lindon, not some lowly battle like his?

No, Elrond knew, it was up to them to carve their own victory, and he could not see a way for them to do it.

Elrond was distracted form his thoughts by a sudden stampeding of feet outside his tent door, noticing shouts in the distance as he looked up from the charts he was examining.

"Lord Elrond!" yelled a soldier, throwing back the front flap of his tent to reveal a startled lord. "The orcs are trying to ford the Bruinien!"

Elrond stood up so fast ne nearly knocked over his papers. The Bruinien was a huge river, so large and fast-flowing in nearly rivaled the mountains in natural defenses- or so he'd thought. The orcs must be getting impatient or desperate if they were trying to ford those deadly waters.

"They must be mad," said Elrond, his heart leaping in his throat. A battle now was actually their best hope, with the troops still relatively fed. Lead them to victory right now, they might be able to leave the valley to find food. If they lost, it would hardly matter either way.

Elrond gritted his teeth and prayed to Eru.

Chapter End Notes

Sorry I took so long! I kinda forget sometimes that this fic is on multiple sites...I'm really sorry!

Table of Contents | Leave a Comment