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Escape

I'm so so so so very sorry for not updating in a long time! You all know how life can be so I will say no more. I've been working really hard on this the last few days for you all. On a side note; as you may know updates will be slower for the next three or four weeks and then I hope to be able to get more chapters up sooner.

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Horses and men screamed as the ground disappeared from underneath their feet and they plunged into deep rift. They collided at the bottom with an almighty crash of metal against flesh and metal. Screams were abruptly cut off as the men were crushed underneath their mounts and bones snapped with and audible crack.

Illeandir and Thrilo were thrown from the old grey horse, who landed heavily on his side and did not move. The dwarf landed on Illeandir's right arm, wrenching the limb from its socket. Illeandir groaned and pushed an inebriated Thrilo off his arm and roll away as another horse came crashing down. The two narrowly avoided being flattened by one thousand pounds of horse flesh. The beast struggled to its feet, regardless of the dead man on its back and the two people on either side. A hoof caught Thrilo in the thigh. The horse reared and thundered away in blind panic.

Illeandir struggled to his feet fighting waves of nausea after taking a blow to head when he was thrown. Chaos surrounded him as men tried to reign in any horses still sound and whole. He found Thrilo sitting with his hands pressed against his thigh spitting a wild string of abuse. Illeandir grabbed his arm and hauled Thrilo to his feet.

"Come, Master Dwarf, we make for Ithilien while they are yet disorganized." He tasted blood and realized he had bitten the inside of his cheek. He winced as his tongue probed the wound. Thrilo took a moment to make sure he was still in possession of his ax. While he did that Illeandir inspection his shoulder. He could feel the hollow his joint left after coming out. He grimaced at the prospect of having to push it back later. There was no time now, already the men were beginning to rally.

With his good arm he dragged Thrilo, limping and cursing like a sailor, behind him. They traveled away from the chaos along the bottom of the rift. The din slowly faded but remained an ever present threat if they did not get away soon. Suddenly they were met with a steep wall of grassy earth that towered far above Illeandir's head. Thrilo, having recovered from his daze, slowly lifted his head and whistled softly.

"That be mighty steep." he said rubbing his bearded chin. "I be too short to make it."

"Climb up as far as you can and I'll push you up the rest of the way." Illeandir said, impatiently bouncing on the balls of his feet. He could hear the soldiers coming. Thrilo eyed the rise warily.

"We dwarves be built fer carving tunnels through hills, not climbing them."

"Then for The Valar's sake dig one with your hands! Move! Least we be caught here." Illeandir snapped.

"I don't have me tools fer diggin'."

"Then climb!" Thrilo must have sensed the urgency in Illeandir's voice because he immediately began scrabbling up the steep slope, clinging desperately to the long, slick grass growing there. Illeandir used his uninjured arm to push him up until the dwarf grasped the edge with both hands and heaved himself over the edge and lay panting in his back. Illeandir took a step back and leapt as high as he could. His chest slammed into the earth, driving the air from his lungs. His fingertips barely brushed the top of the ridge before he slid back down. He tried three more times before Thrilo grabbed his forearm and heaved with all his strength. Feet churning the earth Illeandir pushed upward and at last inched over the edge.

"You are no light elf." Thrilo gasped, sweat streamed down his face despite the cool night. Illeandir gingerly maneuvered his injured arm, gritting his teeth as bone grated against bone, and stood.

"The night is far from over, Master Dwarf, we flee to the river." Without another word Illeandir began running toward the faint sounds of rushing water. Thrilo followed closely, wondering what he had gotten himself into. All he'd wanted tonight was a cool drink of mead and a warm bed. So far all he'd gotten was a backbreaking horse ride, a knock on the head, and a nasty bruise on his thigh. On top of all that he had lost his things, years worth of scavenging across the known dwarven realms for bits of precious metals and jems. By now it was probably scattered across the inn room floor or gone.

"Blood and flames," he muttered, "bloody humans, bah!" He thumped his fist against his leg. Illeandir chuckled despite himself. He'd forgotten how much he enjoyed the blunt speech of the dwarves. Thrilo didn't seem to notice as he lamented the loss of many years of backbreaking work. He plodded along behind the light-footed elf, his footsteps seemed unnaturally loud next to Elstan's.

Elstan. Thrilo thought to himself. Where does an elf get a name like that? He wondered. He would hold the elf to his earlier promise of just how he came about such a name. "Bloody elves and their bloody secrets." he growled. He soon fell silent. Talking required too much breath to keep up with the swift pace the elf set. It soon became apparent to him that he could not keep this pace for much longer. Every step jarred the back of his head and his breath came in short bursts. He cursed the heavy meal and several pints of ale resting heavily in his stomach.

He watched the elf through slitted eyes and felt a small pang of jealousy for the easy, loping strides he took despite an immense amount of pain spreading from his arm. Thrilo harrumphed and looked away. He had never been fond of elves, though he'd met only two before this night. He hadn't likes them then with their silent aloofness and this one seemed no better. But, he recalled, this one had been the one to spare him a night in the dungeons even if he'd almost gotten killed in the process. As far as dwarves went, Thrilo was a bit of an oddity. He didn't particularly care to stay huddled away in a dwarven hall nor mine precious ores and jewels. He wanted to explore the world, see what other beauty lay beyong the glimmer of his home.

The faint sounds of rushing water slowly grew until it filled their ears. Ahead they could see trees surrounding the river. Illeandir became increasingly agitated as it drowned out the sounds of their pursuit. His head turned from side to side, eyes large and filled with silvery moonlight. He reminded Thrilo of a hunting wolf the way he searched. He found himself checking over his shoulder for pursuit every few meters. Their speed increased and they soon found themselves sprinting for the cover of trees. Thrilo barely kept up with Illeandir, whom he suspected was purposely going slower so the dwarf could keep up.

Not twenty meters from the edge of the forest a shout went up. Arrows whizzed over head. Illeandir dropped to the ground just before one could pierce him. Unable to stop he rolled over several times and came up next to Thrilo, who hadn't stopped. His face was rigid and tight with pain. He ran with his back bent over to make himself a smaller target. For a moment Thrilo thought he had taken an arrow but a quick glance told him the elf was fine.

Sprinting as fast as their legs could carry them they raced toward the forest. Never had a dwarf been so happy to see trees. Heaving great breaths he forced his short legs to go faster. Beside him the elf stumbled but quickly righted himself, never falling a step behind or inching ahead. The shouting grew more frantic as they neared the forest until suddenly they burst into the wood. Illeandir immediately pulled Thrilo toward the West while still angling deeper into the forest away from human eyes. Thrilo lost track of the number of times they changed direction and doubled back on their trail. He numbly followed Illeandir, only aware of the constant need to be moving and exhaustion.

"We are almost safe." Illeandir said as Thrilo tripped over a fallen branch and fell. It was several moments before the dwarf pushed himself up again. Illeandir wearily lead him further and further into the forest, away from the men chasing them. He didn't dare go near the river for that would be the first place they would look for him. He could only hope that somehow Ithilwen had escaped and that she would find them.

At last he stopped, not because he felt safe but because he could go no further. His arm throbbed with every step and his leg bled heavily from a deep gash received from an arrow during their mad sprint to the forest. Behind him he heard a heavy thump. He looked down and saw Thrilo sprawled out flat on his back gasping for air. Guilt flooded Illeandir and he knelt next to the dwarf.

"Are you well?"

Thrilo grunted, "I am bloody well not well!" he said and pushed himself into a sitting position. "I ain't movin' no more. Not even if orcs come after me. I be staying right 'ere."

"Rest, Master Dwarf, we leave at dawn." Thrilo looked like he wanted to argue but his eye drooped and he fell asleep sitting up. Illeandir gently laid him down and turned his attention to his own exhausted body. He stood and walked a few paces away facing the river. Steeling himself he stretched his arm in front of his chest, hissing softly through his teeth when bone grated against bone. Slowly he closed his hand into a fist and breathed deeply before quickly twisting his whole arm, forcing the shoulder joint back into its socket. With a loud pop his shoulder snapped back into place. He bit his lip in an effort to keep silent. After a moment he relaxed and stretch his arm out, relieved when it didn't pain him as much. He inspected the gash on his leg. Tearing off a strip of cloth from his shirt he bound the wound tightly. There was nothing more he could do. Ithilwen had their supplies and he had no energy to go looking for healing herbs.

Leaning wearily against a nearby tree Illeandir looked to the faint stars above through the canopy. A faint breeze lifted his hair and chilled the nape of his neck. Illeandir shivered. Change was in the air.

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Weird question but: Has anyone ever unhinged their jaw? Like to the point where you have to move your jaw around until it goes back into place and it hurts? Or you can't move because you're thinking, "crap! My jaw is gonna fall off!"

Anybody?

No?

Just me then? Used to happen all the time. *cringe*

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