The two walked through the woods quietly. The companions had raven black hair that fell to their shoulders, and the same hard grey eyes that held no light or love. They were the twins Elladan and Elrohir, sons of Lord Elrond. The twins walked silently through the woods; they always liked trying to sneak up on the Dúnedain camp whenever they settled in the valley of Rivendell for the month.
The reason for the visit was for the twins to ask Arathorn, leader of the Dúnedain, to come with them and hunt Orcs. They had made it their mission, after there mother had been captured and tortured by Orcs, sailing to Valinor afterwards, to destroy every one of the vile creatures and rid Middle Earth of the disease.
Arathorn, however distantly, was their relative. He was the descendent of Elros, Elrond's brother, who had chosen a mortal life. He had been raised by the elves of Rivendell, as his forefathers had since Isildur's time. For the first ten years of their life the descendents of Isildur were taught how to fight, hunt, track, and read and write.
"Elladan!" Elrohir hissed pointing to the sky with right hand while the other automatically went to the hilt of his sword.
His twin looked towards the skies and hissed as he saw the huge plume of smoke coming from the direction of Arathorn's camp. He nodded and they both unsheathed their swords.
Together they jogged cautiously towards the camp hoping their elven heritage would keep them quite, and then the screams began. They broke into a run, ignoring the twigs snapping under their feet.
When they emerged into the clearing where the Rangers had been camping, they stopped short. Nearly a hundred Orcs were running through the meadow some falling with arrows or knives in their bodies, others crying out as they died on swords. But many more were still pouring out of the woods and the twins had suddenly noticed the number of dead Dúnedain on the forest floor.
They nodded to each other and ran into a knot of Orcs, about twenty of them, and the fight began. So precise and deadly were the elves that they had been named the Duo of Death. Without even thinking, the twins got back to back and began fighting. They had trained and fought for so long that they both knew the others moves and when to duck, or dodge the others sword that was coming back. Both were scratched and cut by the Orcs, but they paid the minor injuries no regard as their adrenaline fueled their actions.
Soon the Orcs were disposed of. They continued fighting, sometimes splitting just long enough to make room for a Ranger's attack. They called out for Arathorn but couldn't find him amongst the dead or living. Soon they migrated towards the north side of the meadow where the foul creatures were pouring out, and they slaughtered everything within their reach.
"You okay Elladan?" Elrohir asked once they had finished off the last of the Orcs.
Elladan had finally been hit near the end; it was a blow to his side just below the rib cage. He was clutching his side while tearing off a piece of his sleeve trying to wrap it around his waist and stem the blood. Elrohir moved over quickly and tied the knot for his brother holding him slightly so Elladan could rest.
Once the wound had been taken care of, Elrohir began piling the Orcs on top of each other wanting to contain the amount of Earth that was subjected to the foul blood. Elladan soon followed him and after they had piled all the Orcs around him they moved away from the stench Elrohir now supporting his brother slightly taking the pain away through their connection.
"We need to help the wounded and then find Arathorn and Gilraen," Elladan winced holding his hand to his wound trying to put pressure on it and stem the flow of blood.
It took them nearly twenty minutes to round up the Dúnedain and get those who were not wounded to start healing those who had been hurt. They glanced among the Men for Arathorn but still did not see him, when they asked a healer where he was they pointed to a tree nearly eighty yards away where a shadowed figure was sitting.
"Arathorn!" Elladan shouted as the twins ran over to the figure recognizing him as their friend and relative.
The Captain of the Dúnedain glanced up and the move almost killed the elves, Arathorn's mouth had almost been slashed open on his right cheek, the pain must have been excruciating. They glanced down at his chest and saw an arrow sticking through his chest, perhaps plugging the blood that would otherwise be flowing freely.
"I'm dying," Arathorn said simply shutting his eyes to the wave of pain that crashed over him.
Elrohir, who was the more experienced healer of the two, hurried over and examined his friend. He cast a glance at Elladan who was watching curiously and his eyes moved slightly, Arathorn was going to die; there was nothing he could do to stop it.
"The Line of Kings has ended then," Elladan murmured walking over and placing his hand on Arathorn shoulder trying to comfort him while he passed.
"No," Arathorn gasped the pain not allowing the words to leave him.
The twins glanced at each other in surprise, Arathorn had already admitted he was dying, and Arathorn's father had died a few years ago in an Orc attack similar to this.
Elrohir glanced back at the captain curiously and noticed for the first time the bundle he was holding close to his chest. Elladan followed his gaze and his eyes widened as he watched the bundle twitch slightly.
"His name is Aragorn, please take him to Rivendell," Arathorn gasped the pain starting to cloud his eyes; he fought to keep conscious, knowing that when he passed out he would not reawaken.
"Gilraen?" Elladan asked slowly pulling the young child from his friend's arms startled by the weakness he felt in his friend.
Arathorn shook his head and closed his eyes taking a deep breath as he tried to refocus his thoughts and stay alive, "She died. I refused to let the healer's care for me, the others need their time, I was dying…there was nothing they could do, I wanted to be with my son," he gasped watching the bundle sadly, tears welling in his eyes, "he will grow up with no parents."
"We will care for him," Elladan comforted taking his friend's hand to rest it on his son while the light left his eyes.
"He will be safe in Imladris," Elrohir confirmed taking Arathorn's other hand strongly and laying his sword in his hand proud as Arathorn found the strength to pull it across his chest.
"He will be the Captain when he comes of age," Arathorn was whispering now barely finding the strength to pull the breath he needed in.
"Who shall be appointed as the captain while he grows?" Elladan asked trying to keep Arathorn talking, and there for alive as long as possible.
"Tathar, he shall be the Captain," Arathorn gasped his eyes winced shut in pain, his breathing coming short and ragged.
Elrohir nodded and squeezed Arathorn's hand tightly watching sadly as his friend died, suddenly he remembered something and pinched his friend's arm as painfully as possible.
"Where is she, Gilraen?" Elrohir asked quickly wanting his friend to be at peace knowing what pain he was in, but needing to know where Arathorn's wife was.
"She's in the hut; an Orc snuck up on her and slit her throat as she was putting Aragorn to sleep. I killed him before he got to Aragorn, it was an attempt on our lives and they almost completely succeeded. A huge Orcs, larger then any I have ever seen before was leading the attack. We were all fighting and it seemed he recognized me as the heir to the throne, he struck me with his bow before I could dodge, I managed to crawl back to the hut and hide Aragorn when you two came and saved us. Many more lives would have been lost if not for you," Arathorn struggled for breath a look of gratitude in his glazing eyes.
"Be at peace Arathorn," Elrohir whispered, Elladan trying to calm the child who was whimpering in the folds of his blanket.
Arathorn smiled slightly and took one last look at Aragorn, as if to imprint his form forever in his mind. His eyes glazed over and his breathing slowed and then eventually stopped, the twins felt tears sliding down their face and they both glanced down at the bundle.
"He carries a heavy burden, he is the last heir to the throne of Gondor," Elladan whispered, unwrapping the folds of the blanket so he could see the face of the King.
They both gasped as they saw the face that was looking back at them, the hard grey eyes studied them intensely and Elladan self-consciously turned so that the babe could not see the form of his father. His face was pale but very strong, like his fathers. His head was adorned with a mass of black curls that framed his face.
"We must hurry and get him back to Ada," Elladan whispered pulling the babe, who didn't look to be more then five months, closer to his chest trying to warm him up.
"So he is dead then," a voice whispered behind him. The twins turned to find Tathar watching them sadly glancing down at his dead captain.
Tathar was the oldest of the Rangers, at nearly ninety (remember they're Dúnedain) years old. He had blonde hair and hard blue eyes that showed the hardships he'd faced in his life. He was tall and slight built, although you could vaguely make out the layer of muscle under his tunic.
"Yes he has passed, and he has appointed you leader of the Rangers until his son comes of age," Elladan answered watching sadly as Elrohir closed Arathorn's eyes.
"His son, Aragorn survived then?" Tathar asked looking down hopefully at the small bundle squirming in Elladan's arms, the little boy not recognizing the tall elf and there for was feeling frightened.
"Yes, he will be brought to Rivendell to be cared for by Lord Elrond," Elladan whispered not wanting to distract Elrohir who was singing the song for the dead.
Just then Aragorn started to cry, scared when he caught a glimpse of his father an arrow piercing his chest. Elladan held him hopelessly never having any experience with someone this young, Tathar held out his arms and Elladan gratefully handed the child over to him. Aragorn's cries silenced down as he recognized Tathar's smiling face and was again blocked from the view his father's body.
"We must get him back to Lord Elrond as soon as possible, this cold and his shock will do harm if he is not treated soon," Elrohir finally said standing up and moving next to his brother watching as Tathar calmed the young boy down.
"We will give you two of our horses so you may move faster," Tathar agreed handing Aragorn back to Elladan as he went to find the horses.
Slowly the rest of the Ranger's came over and whispered words of farewell to Arathorn's body, and words of hope and courage to Aragorn. The boy seemed to cheer up as he recognized all the faces of the Dúnedain around him.
At the command of Tathar some of the men picked up Arathorn's body, making sure that Elladan turned around first so Aragorn wouldn't see, and moved him to the center of the camp where the rest of the dead were lying peacefully. Another two men ran into Arathorn's tent and came out carrying Gilraen, here throat slashed open.
"Go, ride to Rivendell as fast as you are able," Tathar instructed tossing a set of reins to Elladan and Elrohir.
Elladan handed Aragorn to a young Ranger as he mounted his horse and hugged him close when Aragorn was handed back. Elrohir glanced at him worriedly noticing that he was leaning heavily against his saddle and that he seemed to be suffering from loss of blood due to the wound in his side.
"Hand me the boy Elladan, you are almost too weak to sit in your saddle," Elrohir instructed nodding, pleased, when his twin surrendered Aragorn, allowing himself to lean against the horses neck.
With many anxious onlookers, the twins of Elrond started to gallop towards Imladris. They were anxious to get home and allow their father to care for Estel, and Elladan who was growing weaker as the ride went on.
Then just when Elrohir thought that his twins strength couldn't hold out any longer they rode into the Last Homely House. They both gazed at the beautiful city appreciatively automatically finding the large area where Elrond and they lived, Arwen having long ago left for Lothlorien not wanting to be reminded of her mother everywhere she went, and where the elves gathered for celebrations, when they needed healing, or when they had a concern that Elrond needed to hear.
They were home…
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