I have your woman.
The voicea deep, throaty growlstopped Legolas in
his tracks. Panic had been gripping his heart (as always when
Eowyn was in danger), but something about that voice, something
about the way it gruffly caressed the words, was reassuring.
Trying to resist the lethargy that had suddenly begun to invade
his limbs, Legolas peered at the dark silhouette
An explosion of light almost blinded himhe raised a hand
to shield his eyesand, standing at its centre, he saw again
the powerful figure of the werewolf.
She is waiting for us.
Legolas frowned. That cannot be true; she
No, he whispered.
Come, elf,the growl had become a purrjoin
our sport. The creature set its clawed hands upon
its hips and spread its muscular legs. The woman is so
No, whispered Legolas.
Enjoy her with me,the growl had hardened to
a snarlor watch me enjoy her with my wolves.
The creature swept its hand past the dark shapes lurking beside
it and, one-by-one, men draped in wolf skins appeared in the sphere
No, whispered Legolas, tears running down his cheeks.
But he followed the creature into the Forest.
On and on they tramped, and Legolashis mind growing duller,
his limbs heavier with every stephad no idea where they
were going, no idea where they had been, only that, in their wake,
they were leaving the Forest empty.
At last, the werewolf brought them to a halt, and Legolas heard
its followers dump something on the groundsomething that
groaned—What? he wondered and, from the depths of his sluggish
brain, he dragged an answer.
Then another impression jogged his blunted senses.
Eowyn! Nearby! Legolas spirit reached out
One of the wolf men pushed him to his knees.
She is somewhere up above
A clawed hand stroked his face. Beau-ti-ful.
Where is Eowyn? whispered Legolas. What have
you done to Eowyn?
But the werewolf seized him by the scruff of the neck, forcing
him down on all fours; and Legolas, feeling its hands grasp his
waist, and unable to prevent what was about to happen, closed
his eyes, tightly
Eowyns anger exploded above him, like a flask of spirits
thrown upon a fire, and he heard her voice ring out, loud and
clear: SHOOT! she cried. Shoot! Shoot!
Kill them all!
And, suddenly, the werewolf was howling in pain, and its hands
had fallen from Legolas’ flanks, and at the same momentonly
dimly aware of the skirmish around himthe elf felt its curse
lift from his mind like mist in the sunlight, and his own anger
flare up, keen and bright.
And, as he rose to his knees, already looking for his bow and
white knives, he felt a beloved presence, running up behind him,
and heard her voice, shouting, Get away from Legolas! MOVE!