I have finally decided to continue and complete this story. I had come to be disgusted with the way I wrote it out originally, and am now doing a complete makeover. Please enjoy and leave your reviews.

Chapter 1

Prologue:

Lindar and Bragolan walked to the glade. A battle was about to commence between the Elves and the Orcs. Some of the scouts had spotted the orcs and discovered more were on their way.

"I have a feeling this will be a bloody battle." Bragolan said with a sigh.

Lindar folded his arms across his chest. "Black blood, perhaps." He mused. His dark brown eyes looked around at the other warriors. Each stood calm, seeming to be in their own thoughts.

Bragolan looked at Lindar. "I will protect you, my brother. Just be sure to stay near me." He said firmly.

Lindar glanced at him. "I am capable of taking care of myself, but your words are a good comfort. Thank you." He said with a nod.

"Yrch!" An Elven voiced cried from a tree branch.

Suddenly the captain, Haldir, called for all the elves to prepare themselves. Bows bent in preparation and swords were drawn.

"Ready! Attack!" Haldir shouted.

Suddenly a volley of arrows rushed over the heads of the elves and struck the orcs as they tried to cross the border. As the second wave of orcs continued to run up toward them, they got their swords and slashed through the line of orcs. Their black blood was splattered across the golden leaves that covered the forest floor.

Bragolan moved his blade swiftly, he stood firmly beside his father. Both of them struck down the orcs with great finesse. Lindar began by fighting next to his brother and father, but then he found himself moving farther away as he tried to attack the orcs that seemed to swarm around the younger fighters. Lindar was young as well, though he had come of age for Elves.

Suddenly an Elf cried out that Orcs were not their only problem. Easterlings had followed these Orcs as well, or had been sent with them.

Bragolan frowned and continued to cut his way through the orcs. He didn't like the fact that he was so far away from his brother. He promised to protect him, after all.

Suddenly he heard a voice cry out for help. His head turned quickly and he saw his brother being carried away by the Easterlings. He was struggling, but it seemed that he lost his weapon and his arm was bleeding.

"Lindar!" Bragolan cried. He tried to cut his way through the crowd of orcs, but there was no way he could reach him in time.

"Ada! Bragolan! Help me! Please!" Lindar cried as loud as he could. But it was to no avail.

Battle's End

Bragolan walked among the bodies of the wounded and the dead. Hardly any Elves had fallen to the blade, but quite a few had actually gone missing. Like Lindar.

Bragolan bowed his head sadly. What did those Easterlings have in mind? Probably slavery.

His father came up behind him and put a hand on Bragolan's shoulder. His father's hand was crusted with black blood, he noticed. "Are you well, Ada?" Bragolan asked softly.

"I was not hurt in the battle." He said. Then he looked solemn. "Lindar is gone, isn't he?"

Bragolan bowed his head again. "The Easterlings…didn't you hear his cries, father?" He asked sadly.

"I did, my son. But I couldn't get to him either. He is not the only one that has gone missing." He explained. "May the Valar protect all who were lost today…and by the grace of Eru may they be brought back to us."

"I wish there was more that we could do…other than pray." He whispered.

"The Valar will heed our prayers and protect them. And if it is their fate to return to us, be sure that they will." He said.

"Is that all you can say about this, father? You just lost your youngest son…and all you can say is that you hope he returns? We should go after them!" Bragolan exclaimed.

His father sighed. "And what would that accomplish, Bragolan? We might all end up dead. We have not the numbers to run after them. Orcs might still be accompanying them as well. It's true that they retreated, but they still might have other friends nearby. This is not a wise thought, my son. This is in the Valar's hands." He said.

Bragolan knew that his father was right. All they could do was wait. But waiting seemed so futile. Lindar might be dying as they speak. Or dead. It was a horrible thought, but he couldn't stop himself from thinking it. He loved his little brother so much. He'd failed to protect him.

"Let us return home. Your mother needs to know."

Five Years Later

Bragolan was sitting on a talan watching the sky between the golden leaves. The light that filtered in was soft and glowed faintly. Bragolan sighed and stretched out. He'd been on guard duty most of the day, but it had been such a peaceful day that he was tired. He hadn't rested well since yesterday. Yesterday had been the day that five years ago he lost his younger brother, Lindar. He always had nightmares of that day when it came around every year.

Bragolan had never stopped praying to the Valar for his safe return, but nothing had happened. In fact, things had gotten worse since he was lost. His father died during a battle two years ago, and his mother had left for the West. Now he was completely alone.

"Bragolan! You should not be sleeping like this." A voice chided.

Bragolan looked over at his friend, Veryo. "I'm not sleeping. I'm just laying down for a moment." He said as he sat up again.

Veryo sat down, crossing his legs as he did. "You have sleepless nights again, mellon." He said softly.

Bragolan looked down. Veryo reached over and put his hand on Bragolan's shoulder. "My friend, I know the loss was a terrible one, but your life is hardly over. You must learn to move on, as harsh as it sounds. You have an eternity before you." He said.

"I feel guilty, Veryo. Every time I close my eyes I can see him being dragged away and I can hear him begging for help. Pleading…the pain and fright in his voice." Bragolan bowed his head. "I let him down."

Veryo sighed. "I understand how you feel, Bragolan. I lost good friends in my lifetime too. I lost friends I could call my brothers. But he would not want you to weep any longer, I think." He said.

Bragolan looked up at Veryo. "What if he's still alive and suffering?" He asked softly.

Veryo blinked. He looked as if he hadn't expected such a question to be asked. "Bragolan…the likely hood of him surviving for so long is very low. Please don't get your hopes up." He whispered.

Bragolan nodded. "I know, I know." He said.

Suddenly they heard a whisper coming from another tree. An alert. A few elves had just past the borders. She-elves, actually. Bragolan stood. "I'll see who it is." He said. Then he jumped down from the tree.

When he landed he was met with the three maidens. One was seeming to be leading the group, and she was on foot leading her horse. She had green eyes and dark hair. The other, who seemed to be the oldest, was fair haired with grey eyes, and then the third looked to be the youngest, for her eyes were filled with a youthful light. She had crimson hair, and blue eyes.

Bragolan bowed politely. "Maidens, why do you wish to pass through?" He asked.

"We've only come to rest, sir. We've had a long journey, and need to stop here on our way to Imladris." The maiden on foot stated.

Bragolan folded his arms across his chest. "How long will you stay here?"

"Only for the night." She replied.

"Then I am certain the Lady will welcome you. Please, follow me." Bragolan said with a nod. Then he began leading them deeper into the forest.