Battlefield

Disclaimer: I own nothing apart from Eleniel, Feredir and my other OCs (basically anyone you don't recognize). Everything belongs to the amazing J.R.R Tolkien :)

(If you haven't read Rivendell's Star: Eleniel is my OC. She is Lord Elrond's youngest child and Elladan, Elrohir, Arwen and Estel's little sister. For this fic, she is the equivalent of an 17-year-old human, and Estel is 22).

"I cannot believe you!"

A few birds scattered out of their trees at the shout that echoed through the forest, shaking the branches and leaves.

Eleniel stood, head bowed, in front of the most angry elf she would probably ever come to face. Her sticky hands were held behind her, and her blonde hair had almost freed itself from its braid. Her sword hung loosely at her hip, the end of it covered with black blood.

She didn't know what to say.

What could she say?

Sorry? As if that would help.

"Eleniel Peredhel, look at me this minute or I swear to Eru…"

The elleth slowly lifted her head to face the source of the shouts. He looked terrifying, and she couldn't remember a time he'd ever been this angry before. He stood tall and menacing in front of her, his own blond hair having come loose sometime during the battle they had just been in, but his sword was still in his hand, his fists clenched so tight around the hilt that she was sure they'd be as white as snow soon enough.

Slowly, her eyes looked into his, but she found that the usual mischievous spark had been replaced with a dark, raging fire.

"Fin…" she murmured, but was quickly interrupted.

"Do not say a word until I have asked for it," the balrog-slayer told her, putting up a hand to silence her. It worked, the elleth too scared to say anything more.

"I cannot believe you would disobey me like that. I can't believe it, Eleniel. How could you do such a thing? I am so disappointed in you, elfling, and I cannot tell you what your father will think once he hears about this! You could have gotten everyone killed! What do you think you were doing?!"

Eleniel flinched as Glorfindel stepped forward in anger, raising the sword slightly and glaring at her with so much fury that she didn't know what to do. She turned her head somewhat and caught sight of the other warriors who were respectfully keeping their distance over on the far side of the forest.

"Look at me!"

The elleth's head snapped back around to look up at the fuming balrog-slayer, her eyes immediately going down to stare worriedly at the sword still being held in his hand.

Glorfindel saw what she was looking at and dropped the sword to the floor, realizing he must have been raising it in anger. He turned his head to look back at Eleniel, and noticed her head was dropped, blue eyes staring at her boots. He stood still for a moment, eyes wide and face red with exasperation as he tried to calm himself by slowly breathing in and out.

A small noise caught his attention, and his eyes flicked up to look at Eleniel's bowed head. He saw something fall and land on her boots, making a small watermark, and realized she was crying.

His face fell. The image in front of him of his little Eleniel - who was almost at the age of an adult – stood there, shoulders slumped and hands held behind her back, with tear marks streaking down her cheeks and a remorseful expression on her face, made her look like a small elfling; a little girl who would have known nothing of the battles she now fought in. It made him realize just how close he had been to losing her. To losing someone he loved with every last bit of his heart.

With a sigh, Glorfindel shut his eyes tight and breathed in, running his hands through his blond hair. He turned around and walked over to a conveniently fallen log, sitting down and placing his elbows on his knee while resting his chin in his hands.

Everything was silent for a moment.

Suddenly, the elleth heard someone take in a few shuddery breaths, and her head snapped up, eyebrows furrowing as she looked at the warrior in front of her.

Was he- was he crying?

"Fin…?" she asked hesitantly, stepping forward the slightest bit.

The balrog-slayer looked up at his name, and glanced at the elleth, who saw tears streaming down from his red eyes. "Eleniel," he said, wiping them quickly from his face, "come here."

Eleniel tilted her head slightly before slowly walking forward. She reached the balrog-slayer, and wasn't surprised – though admittedly a little nervous – when he gently pulled her down to sit on his lap and wrap his arms around her.

"I am sorry I shouted," he whispered into her ear.

Eleniel turned to look at him. "You had a right to."

Glorfindel smiled sadly. "Maybe, but I let my anger take over, and I regret that I shouted too much."

Eleniel stayed silent, head bowed as she leaned into Glorfindel's chest, hiding her blood-covered hands.

"I'm sorry," she said quietly after a while, not moving.

Glorfindel looked at her. "Eleniel," he said, "do you know why I was angry?"

"Because I disobeyed you."

"No."

The elleth turned at that, frowning as she looked at the balrog-slayer.

Glorfindel continued. "I was not angry with the fact that you disobeyed me. Disappointed, yes, but not angry. However... the fact that I almost lost you… that you could have died…" he paused for a moment, taking a deep breath. "That is what made me mad. You could have killed yourself. You endangered your life, and that angered me the most, because I do not know what on Middle-earth I would do without you. I was scared, Eleniel."

Eleniel sniffed, taking all of this in. She regretted everything she had done, and if she could go back now and change what happened, she would. But she knew she couldn't, so for now, she'd have to live with the balrog-slayer's disappointment and her father's probably unbearable punishments when they got back home…

"Feredir, you and Istuion will attack the ones by the lake once I give the signal, alright? I will take Eleniel and Rainion. Is that okay? Good. The rest of you will stay. Watch the horses, guard the camp, and kill any who approach you. The others should be back soon."

Everyone listened intently to Glorfindel's whispered commands. They were on a patrol, and they had just come across some orcs. There weren't a lot – Eleniel could only see six in front of them, and they had seen about four down by the lake – but they were still orcs… nasty, dirty, foul creatures who wanted nothing but death.

There were eight elves, including Glorfindel, hiding behind the cluster of bushes on a hill in front of the orc camp below. Another nine had gone off earlier to scout the surrounding parts of the forest, ensuring it could be a good place to set up camp and sleep for the night. So far, Glorfindel's small group had found nothing, except this band of orcs. He believed they were survivors from the last attack his second-in-command had carried out a few months ago on their previous patrol, so he wasn't worrying about the minor fact that there may be more of them somewhere near. However, he silently vowed to himself that none of these monsters would survive this attack…

Feredir and Istuion, both highly-trained and experienced warriors who would have absolutely no trouble at all fighting and killing these orcs, made their way down to the lake, while Glorfindel, Eleniel and Rainion, stayed hidden behind the bushes, watching as the orcs moved below them.

"Right," the balrog-slayer said, readjusting his grip on his sword. "When I say go, Eleniel, I want you to take those ones over there. Do you see them? The small ones with no weapons or armour. Yes?"

Eleniel rolled her eyes. Of course he would give her the easiest ones to kill. Nevertheless, she nodded. "Yes, I see them."

"Good. I want you to stay as close as you can to me, alright? They may be the smallest there but they are still orcs and I do not want you getting killed, believe it or not. Rai, you see those two by the tree…?"

Eleniel didn't pay attention to anything that was said after that, keeping her blue eyes focused on the orcs who would soon die by her hand. She didn't care. These creatures may have had ancestors which were responsible for the torture of her mother, and the reason for her nightmares...

Suddenly, she felt a new-found anger slowly rising. These monsters were the cause of her mother's wanting to sail. These creatures were why she grew up with only her father and her brothers as family. These orcs were the reason she didn't have a mother.

Not thinking twice, Eleniel gripped her sword as tight as she could and leaped out of the bushes, charging at the orcs.

Glorfindel looked on with an expression of complete shock and confusion, before he realized what had just happened and stood up. "Eleniel, daro!" he called, knowing full-well she was close enough to hear him.

But it was too late.

The orcs could see her.

"Rhaich!" he all but screamed, patting Rainion on the shoulder and running after the elleth, the other warrior close behind.

Eleniel went straight to the orcs Glorfindel had assigned her, raising her sword and screaming as she brought it down again on the terrified creatures. They hadn't expected to be sat there, happily enjoying a meal of rabbit and something else their leader had cooked up – probably elf – and then suddenly see a madman – or madwoman – racing out of nowhere, coming straight for them!

The smallest one quickly rolled out of the way as Eleniel's sword came down on him, standing up again as he reached the floor.

"Wha' you doin', elflin'?" came the rough voice, and Eleniel's eyes narrowed even more, screaming again as the weapon in her hand stabbed forward, sinking itself into the orc's leg.

The orc screamed. He had no weapons and nothing to defend himself, but the feral smile on his gnarled face stayed there, despite the obvious pain he was in, showing the elleth that he was still confident and unafraid.

Eleniel stepped forward quickly, her sword flying in all different directions, each time missing her target.

Suddenly, she felt a sharp sting in her arm, and she dropped her sword, grabbing her aching limb as she gasped in pain.

A deep chuckle could be heard behind her, and she looked back to see the other orc stood there. She had completely forgotten about him.

She wanted to call out for help. She wanted to scream to Glorfindel, who was fighting the other more experienced orcs side-by-side with Rainion, to come and help her, but she found that no words could come out of her mouth. She fell to her knees, still clutching her arm, feeling the red blood ooze out between her fingers, and looked up at the monsters. Her vision was blurred with tears, and she suddenly felt defeated.

"Wha' you doin', elflin'? Fightin' by yourself, bein' all brave, and now wha'? You gonna die, elflin'!" said the orc who had sliced her arm, now raising the dagger he had in his hand and preparing to bring it down on the elleth in front of him.

"Not on my watch," Glorfindel's voice came from behind her, and suddenly, two blades had embedded themselves in both of the orcs' chests, right where their black hearts were.

The look on the blond warrior's face as he helped Eleniel up – not very gently at all – and pushed her forward, telling her he needed to speak to her immediately, would never leave the elleth's mind. No punishment that she would receive would ever be as bad as knowing that she had disappointed Glorfindel…

"I'm sorry," she said for the third time that day, and immediately turned around in the balrog-slayer's lap, wrapping her arms around his neck and hugging him with all she had left in her.

The warrior returned the hug, closing his eyes and breathing in. However, the smell that reached his nose wasn't the beautiful scent of grass and lavender that the elleth usually carried around with her, it was of blood.

Glorfindel wouldn't have paid much attention to it - the both of them having just been in a battle - had it not been the smell of elf blood that reached his noise.

Carefully, he drew back from the hug, and looked into Eleniel's pained eyes. "El, are you hurt?" he asked.

Eleniel looked at him, and her eyes briefly flicked to her arm. The pain had almost completely gone… but she was quite sure it was only because the blade had been poisoned and her arm was now horribly numb…

"No," she said, not wanting to cause any trouble. Eleniel hated being injured. She was terrified of anything that had to do with broken bones, stitches, or her Ada's special (disgusting) healing tea, and so she made the decision there and then that it didn't matter too much if her arm fell off.

Unluckily for her, however, Glorfindel had known the Peredhel since way before the twins had been born, and so the amount of experience he had when one of them was lying…

Eyebrow raised, he stared intently into her eyes. "Eleniel."

"Yes?"

"Are you lying to me?"

"No…"

Glorfindel nodded, before turning his head to the group of warriors further up in the forest at their make-shift camp. They were all there now, the other party having come back a while ago after making sure there were no other threats.

"Feredir!" he called.

Eleniel groaned as she rolled her eyes and dropped her head forward, placing it on Glorfindel's chest. "Why, Fin?" she mumbled.

The balrog-slayer ignored the question, instead waiting patiently for his best friend to reach them and keeping a firm hold on the elf in his arms.

The raven-haired warrior walked over. His hair had been tied up, and his sword was now clean of the black blood that had covered it before. His clothes were still spattered with the thick substance, but he didn't seem to mind, being used to this kind of stuff.

"What is it?" he asked, coming to stand next to the log his captain was sat on.

"I need some help. Eleniel insists she is unhurt, but I don't quite believe her, so I am in need of your assistance to find out what is wrong."

Eleniel groaned, lifting her head up to glare at Feredir. She knew all too well that Feredir's 'assistance' would include him holding her down while Glorfindel checked her over.

Feredir raised an eyebrow. "Do not glare at me, Eleniel Peredhel. You can save us all the time and trouble if you just tell us now where you are hurt."

"I'm not hurt!"

"What is this blood, then?" Glorfindel asked, taking hold of one of the elleth's red hands and lifting it up slightly. "This is not orc blood."

"Tell us, Eleniel," Feredir said, a warning in his voice that everyone knew was not something to mess with.

The youngest Peredhel sighed, twisting her head to look at her arm. For some reason, the blood that she had felt seeping out of the cut earlier hadn't stained her clothes. Maybe it had closed up. Or not. She didn't know much about wounds.

Glorfindel immediately let go of her sides and pushed her sleeve up, slowing down slightly when he felt her hiss in pain. He continued to push the sleeve up until a long jagged cut starting from her shoulder and running right down until just below her elbow came into sight.

Eleniel looked over when she heard both Feredir and Glorfindel make noises of concern.

"Does it not hurt?" Feredir asked, taking a closer look.

Eleniel shook her head. "Only when I move my arm or someone touches it. But… I can't exactly feel the rest of my arm… is that bad?"

Both warriors glanced at each other.

Glorfindel leaned forward, using one hand to keep the elleth steady and the other to gently probe along the wound. His heart beat faster with every symptom he found.

Hot skin, a deep red rash beginning to form around the wound, and when he pressed down slightly, a thick black substance rose to the surface of the cut...

He looked at Feredir, expression grave. "Poison, Fere."

Eleniel turned her head, staring at Glorfindel. Her suspicions had been confirmed. "Am I… am I going to die?"

Glorfindel's face turned into one of great sadness, and he swiftly wrapped his arms around Eleniel's small body and brought her closer to him. "Valar no, my little warrior! I will not let that happen. We do, however, need to get you home as soon as possible. Orc poison is deadly, you know that, and you need to have that cut stitched up and seen to-"

"No! Fin, I don't want to," the elf said, gradually starting to panic, but Glorfindel ignored it, hurriedly standing up with Eleniel in his arms. He and Feredir walked over to the group of elves who had been patiently waiting for quite some time now.

"Alright, listen up, everybody! Eleniel is ill, and we must get her home quickly. Feredir and I will ride ahead. I trust you all to pack up this camp and follow as soon as you can," Glorfindel said, whistling for Asfaloth.

He helped the elleth onto the white stallion, who now had tears rolling down her cheeks, and mounted behind her, wrapping his arms around her waist to keep her steady. Looking behind him, he noticed Feredir was on his own horse. He nodded at him, and together they set off towards Rivendell.

Glorfindel had been on countless patrols in his lifetime, and never once had it led to something like this.

He was now racing home, a sick elf in his arms, who, as much as he hated to admit it… was slowly dying.

Elvish used:

Peredhil - Half-elven

Elleth - Female elf

Daro - Stop

Rhaich - Curses

This was originally meant to be a one-shot… but something happened XD Should I continue this and make it into a story? Tell me what you think! ~ Gre3nleaf