All through the night, Kurt heard them coming – the heavy footsteps of Orcs travelling at speed along the shore of the river, and they seemed to be headed directly their way. Kurt kept his ear to the ground and a weather eye on their swords. His and Blaine's swords were both ancient Elvish blades. Forged by the Elves of Gondolin, they would glow blue when Orcs came near.

For now, they remained a cold, shimmering steel lying dormant and still beneath the starlit sky, with no alarm to raise.

Kurt extinguished the campfire and kept close to Blaine, hoping that the approaching army might change direction or simply pass them by.

With each moment that passed, the Orcs came closer and closer, and the chances of the army passing them by seemed unlikely. Kurt roused Blaine with hushed explanations and sincere apologies, and helped him gather his gear. Blaine's eyes grew wide when they saw the glowing blue blades of the swords, but Kurt shoved them back in their scabbards. He hung Blaine's over his shoulder, adjusting the leather straps properly to keep the blade from bouncing against his legs the way it already had for their entire trip. They made all haste, with Kurt pulling the sleepy Dwarf behind him before Blaine was even fully awake. They traveled along the recess of the overhanging rock ledge, their bodies pressed flat against the stone. Kurt wanted to find a way back to the Forest of Lothlorien, but with the Orcs flooding into the meadow, blocking their only path, they couldn't even make the reckless move to turn and flee for the relative safety of Fangorn.

The slight wood in the Field of Celebrant was their only escape, and with any luck they could make their way to a point on the riverbank past the oncoming mob and slip away unseen. As they retreated, Kurt heard the Orcs gathering – fighting amongst themselves, arguing over scraps of food, complaining about this and that. Several brawls had begun to break out, and the sludge of black Orc blood was already being spilled, tainting the ground, killing the grass where it touched. The rank stench of it offended Kurt's senses, and he had to hold his breath. For all of their bickering and squabbling, Kurt wasn't sure exactly why they were suddenly there. Orcs were always a danger once you left the borders of the Elf-lands – that much Kurt knew. But this was different. This army of Orcs was vast in number, and they moved with a purpose, which Orcs rarely did.

Lord Elrond's words echoed in Kurt's head as he led Blaine away from the disquieting swarm.

“Take heed, Kurt,” he'd said, “for a great Evil grows past our lands. I fear a mighty spirit of doom is collecting beyond our borders. Whatever you do, do not fall victim to it.”

And Kurt had tried, but here they were, with Evil converging around them on all sides.

They had not gone looking for danger, but danger had definitely found them.

Kurt knew from the pieces of conversation that he could hear clearly enough to understand that this dark army was not aware of their presence. That was a point in their favor. Kurt and Blaine were not a part of the Orcs' plan, but Orcs weren't particular beasts.

They would attack whatever had the misfortune of stumbling in their midst.

“We must keep to the trees,” Kurt whispered to Blaine once they reached the border of the Forest. “They are our only chance. We must move swiftly and make it to the other end in case the Orcs decide to enter the wood.”

Blaine nodded, too focused on Kurt's instructions to speak.

“Then we go…now!”

Kurt shot off like an arrow but Blaine could not keep up, and many times Kurt found himself doubling back to retrieve the Dwarf and retrace his own steps. From here, the bank of the river rose, and then what was once flat, sandy land suddenly became a rocky cliff. Kurt cursed, but he continued, keeping the cliff to their left, hearing the roar of the river dropping miles below. He abandoned his original plan and steered for a clearing up ahead. Even with Blaine drawing up the rear and threatening to slow them down, there was a renewed vigor in Kurt's step, and hope in his heart. The more they ran, more of the clearing he could see. He stared out through the break in the canopy to the cool, cloudless evening sky. His eyes panned down and scanned the land stretched out ahead – a swath of grassy plain leading out toward the river…and not an Orc in sight.

He breathed a sigh of relief.

They were going to make it.

Kurt heard the moment when the Orcs entered the wood, but it didn't matter. They had gained a considerable lead and would be out of the wood and heading down river above the final phalanx. They would disappear and become one with the night.

The sound of horses' hooves pounding the ground filled the air, and suddenly their way was blocked by a regiment of Men on white horses.

The Rohirrim.

“What?” Kurt exclaimed, watching as the horses filled the space that was their only exit. “No! Not now!”

Kurt grabbed Blaine's arm and yanked him quickly into the shelter of a twisted, overhanging tree, and let the horsemen pass. Kurt kept one eye on the Men as they rode by and wondered for a moment if his brother rode with them, but the onslaught of white horses and riders seemed to divert the Orcs straight to them. The creatures burst out of hiding, eager to start a fight.

“We have to stay out of the battle,” Kurt said, searching frantically for a way out. They couldn't make their way back through the wood, and going forward was no longer an option, as that seemed to lead to the thick of the battle. Their only hope now was to make it to the river, to an area where the cliff was not too far from the water. Then they could perhaps take their chances and jump.

Kurt only hoped that Dwarves could float.

“Okay, new plan,” Kurt said, his voice hushed and urgent, “we're going to make a break for the river.”

Blaine looked around the far side of the tree and his face went white.

“Uh, Kurt? There are an awful lot of Orcs between us and the river.”

Kurt heard the twinge of fear in Blaine's voice, and his heart hardened against it. He had to be emotionless. He had to be strong for both of them if they were ever going to make it out of this alive.

“I know,” Kurt said. “But it's our only chance.”

Blaine nodded.

“Pick a direction, Master Elf,” he said, trying to sound brave, “and I'll follow you, wherever you lead.”

Kurt closed his eyes and swallowed hard. This Dwarf trusted him to keep them safe.

Blaine trusted him to keep them safe.

Hopefully, Kurt could manage that.

“On the count of three we make a break for the cliff,” Kurt explained. “Dodge and evade. Don't get caught up in an attack. Maybe we can use the cover of the battle to keep from being ambushed.”

“That's…that's a good plan,” Blaine muttered. “Yes…that should work.”

Kurt let Blaine continue to convince himself for a moment longer, and then he began his count.

“One…”

A white rider flew by with an arrow lodged fletching deep in his chest.

“Two…”

An Orc, beheaded by a Man-made sword, stumbled blindly, and then fell to the ground.

“THREE!”

Kurt grabbed Blaine's hand and they broke free from their hiding place behind the tree. They ran headlong into a grouping of Orcs tussling with two armed Men, but Kurt was prepared for them. He stopped short and spun around, propelling Blaine past them. He followed behind, pushing the Dwarf by his shoulders. An Orc confronted them, but Kurt's sword was ready to free the monster's head from its neck. Blaine turned his face away as the spray of black blood hit his leather vest. Kurt ran past him again, pulling the Dwarf along behind him.

Dodge, evade…dodge, evade - the bobbing dance continued as Kurt slingshot Blaine through the harrowing battle. The Orcs and the Men didn't expect the appearance of an Elf and a Dwarf, so for the most part Kurt and Blaine made their way through the battle mostly ignored.

Kurt kept his eyes fixed on their exit as he maneuvered Blaine through the crowd. Only a handful of times did Kurt need to employ his sword – just seeing the glowing blade was enough for many Orcs to simply clear a path for them - and for the most part Blaine's axes remained clean.

Unbeknownst to Kurt, an Evil eye caught sight of them two barreling through the battle unscathed. A silent alarm rose up. A foul voice penetrated the air. Kurt heard it when the Orcs did, and without any more warning than that, Orcs from the trees nearby abandoned their fight with the horse lords and advanced on the Elf and the Dwarf.

Kurt pushed Blaine behind him, spinning him around.

“Keep your back to mine,” Kurt commanded, “and head for the break in the two large trees.”

“Where?” Blaine called over his shoulder. “Which two trees?” Blaine's voice shook. Kurt cursed beneath his breath, realizing that even though they were close to the arms of freedom, from here, the break Kurt was aiming for was beyond the reach of Blaine's eyes.

“Just…just go!” Kurt roared, pushing Blaine to get him started, “and head straight, whatever you do!”

Kurt heard Blaine's axes slice through the air, heard the screams as they connected with Orc flesh and severed limbs from bodies. He kept his mind locked to his own task, pushing Blaine forward and defending him from the rear.

“I can see it!” he heard Blaine yell over the clash of metal and the pitiful whining of dying Orc. “I can see the opening!” Instantaneously, Kurt stumbled backward, and he wondered if Blaine shot away toward their egress and left him behind.

Kurt spun on his companion and saw the Dwarf pulled away, now facing a slew of Orcs alone, swinging his axes indiscriminately at the thicket of black limbs pawing at him. Kurt rushed to get to him, but more Orcs came from out of nowhere to block his way. He swung his sword left and right, fending off more Orcs than Blaine but still not fairing much better. The horsemen seemed to have disappeared - retreated or defeated, Kurt didn't know for sure. He didn't hear a call or the blow of a horn. The riders simply seemed to evaporate into the shadows of the trees.

Kurt swung and swung his glowing sword, not even beginning to tire, but the farther he was pushed from Blaine, the more panicked he felt. He knew at once that the Orcs were deliberately trying to separate them. He found a fury within him he had never before felt. It wasn't a need to save his own life. It was a need to keep his promise to Lord Elrond…and to Blaine.

He would fight through this horde and rescue Blaine. He had to keep Blaine safe, no matter what the cost. He needed to protect this Dwarf, who had gotten under his skin with his shining honey-gold eyes and his warm, caring smiles.

Kurt had to get Blaine home to his mountain.

***

Blaine watched Kurt through the curtain of fighting and he couldn't help his confusion. He didn't know much about Elves admittedly, but he had heard stories that Elves were almost at one with their bow, as if it was a natural extension of their arm. Kurt and his bow should have been one like Blaine with his axes, but Kurt rallied on with his sword, and as good a swordsman as he was, exceptional even, it did nothing to stem the tide of the reigning death rising through the Forest to meet them.

“You can't take them all with just your sword, Kurt,” Blaine called out to him, swinging his axe and swiftly beheading another Orc. “Draw your bow!”

Kurt locked eyes with Blaine, reaching a hand behind him as if he was considering it, swinging again with his sword and gutting an attacker. He had gotten so far as to put a hand on the limb, but then faltered, retreating again to the use of his sword. Blaine shook his head in frustration.

“Well, can you not stab them with your arrows then?” he yelled, trying to find any way possible to turn the tide, but two fighting against what looked like a thousand seemed impossible odds. Blaine was astounded that they had been able to last this long.

Kurt took Blaine's advice, pulling the arrows from his quiver and gouging at Orcs left and right while his sword arm blurred about his head at lightning speed, dispatching the rest. Blaine beamed as he watched Kurt, blindly swinging his axe after aiming for a particular Orc among the flood of foul faces ceased to make any difference. Blaine realized this was probably not the best time to admire the cunning of his friend (a term he didn't feel wrong in using since ‘friends' is what they seemed to be fast becoming) but it couldn't be helped. Kurt fighting the Orcs was a sight to behold. He seemed to glow from within with an ethereal light. He was lithe and powerful - a reflection of the great Elf legends that even he, a Blue Mountain Dwarf, had heard others of his kind revere, from battles long past, when Elves and Dwarves were allied.

So focused was Kurt on his task at hand, that he took no notice of a much larger Orc using the battle as a distraction to aim a black arrow straight at the Elf's heart.

“No!” Blaine screamed, his mouth going dry with alarm. “No! Kurt! Look out!”

Kurt seemed not to hear him from this distance, with the clamor of the battle all around him, or maybe he had not the ability to heed Blaine's warning with the Orcs bearing down upon him. Blaine's axes spun out wildly, striking leg and torso and arm alike until he could sprint away from the melee and make his way to Kurt. He heard the twang of the bow string as the arrow was loosed from its bow, and Blaine cursed and prayed together that he could make it to Kurt in time.

Out of the throng of Orc scum Blaine flew, leaping quickly through the air with an ability he never dreamed he possessed. He tackled Kurt in an effort to push him out of the way, but the archer's aim was true and the arrow hit its mark…or a mark close enough. Instead of piercing Kurt's heart, it lodged itself happily into the next best thing – Blaine's right shoulder, almost shattering the bone. Blaine bellowed in agony and Kurt, nose to nose with the injured Dwarf, saw clearly the twist of pain distorting his features. Toppled backward on the ground, Kurt saw past Blaine's shoulder to the long arrow plunged deep, the wound weeping with thick, black poison. From the direction of the arrow's owner, Kurt heard an eerie wail of satisfied laughter.

“Foul luck, my Elf friend!” the Evil Orc cried. “Once that poison reaches your friend's heart, he won't be long for this world, or any other for that matter!”

Kurt watched Blaine's eyes sink in, his face going frighteningly pale. He sheathed his sword and wrapped his arm around him, scrabbling with his free hand through the trees that turned up the embankment, pushing his heels in the earth to propel them along. Orcs howled with laughter when they saw him, others regrouped and rushed after them, but the horsemen returned and the Elf slipped beneath them, a bit quicker than his distracted Orc pursuers. Crawling between the clamoring hooves of horses, he broke through the trees, finding the cliff closer than he originally estimated. With not a thought of what might happen after they hit the water, Kurt hurled himself and Blaine off the edge of the cliff, plummeting to the dark water below.

“Watch him go!” Laughter echoed after him. “The Elf and the Dwarf have taken a little tumble off the cliff!”

“They're goners now,” another voice chortled.

Orcs continued to jeer even as the battle began anew, and the clashing of swords replaced the choking guffaws.

Kurt pushed the voices and their grim taunts out of his mind as he and Blaine fell. Kurt shifted positions in the air so that he and his pack would hit the water first and absorb the majority of the impact, praying that whatever bones he broke in the process would not be ones that were all too necessary to save their lives.

Oh, Blaine, Kurt cried in his mind. I failed, you. Please, forgive me.