Part III
In truth, there was nothing Elladan and Elrohir could do; they both knew that once Glorfindel's mind was made up, there was no chance of him changing it unless ti was for the sake of something of the utmost importance.
As Glorfindel had planned, when Hérion and his twenty riders left, Elladan and Elrohir left with them, heading back towards Rivendell.
So down in spirits were the twins that they did not even try to make conversation with their riding companions, even if they were spoken to. They answered in the barest amount of words possible and were only passably civil.
The Elves did not blame them for this: the worry and the disappointment were enough to cause it without the severe case of nerves each was undoubtedly going through added onto it all.
Elladan and Elrohir had every intention of escaping at the first chance possible, but it seemed as though Hérion was expecting this and he kept a close watch on both of them. They continued this way for two days, morose and watchful.
It was not until the group was ambushed by a small band of Orcs that a chance showed itself. After seeing that the Elves had the Orcs well in hand, Elladan and Elrohir rode quietly off into the trees and rocks, weapons at the ready in case they met any more enemies.
Before their presence could be missed, they had set off at a quick gallop, back towards Caradhras. They rode hard and fast to catch up Glorfindel's party, being sure to keep out of danger of detection.
When they found signs that they were drawing close to the Elves, they left the main path and travelled parallel to them, steadily getting ahead of them, since the path Glorfindel was on was much narrower and he had to go slower with all the horses.
Before long, Elladan and Elrohir knew it was safe to return to the main path, for they were now many miles ahead of Glorfindel. They stopped for only a few hours, five at the most, every night to rest both themselves and the horses.
Before long, they were at the base of the very mountain they meant to get to: Caradhras. They camped there, in the shelter of the rocks and trees.
The next morning, after a scanty, hurried breakfast, they started the long, difficult climb upwards. Caradhras was steeper than most of the other mountains, and was often covered in a deep blanket of snow and ice.
They were still following the Orcs' tracks. The twins were now convinced that the Orcs they had seen go by the night they had come upon Glorfindel – or rather, he upon them – were at the same place that their mother was, and this motivated them to continue on.
Then, all of a sudden, they could no longer see the tracks. They were high enough now that the path was not sheltered by overhanging rocks and the almost constant snowfalls had long since filled the footprints.
Bur from the way the trees along the path had been mutilated and hacked at, it was obvious that they were on the right track. Besides, every so often, Elladan and Elrohir came across an abandoned body at the side of the path, or hung up from a chain on the rock wall. Dark blood splattered the cliffs on both sides. There was no sign of the pure red blood of the captured Elf Lady, and for this Elladan and Elrohir were thankful.
And then it came.
The bodies of Elves, Orcs and horses alike, strewn across the snow, the blood staining trees and spears sticking up out of the snow like tombstones, marking the graves of both races. All signs of the desperate struggle had been covered long ago, but in one place, an Elf sat, leaning on the rocks with a thick-shafted arrow sticking out of his heart: Threndil, one of Elladan and Elrohir's childhood playmates.
The sight of their dead friend, eyes open in death and lips parted, perhaps in the Imladris war call, drove Elladan and Elrohir to a mad fury and, after quickly inspecting the battle scene, they strode onwards, always following the signs of the Orcs.
When they stopped that evening for a meal and rest, they were about another day's walk from the Redhorn Pass. As usual, one of the slept while the other watched, and then switched.
The sunrise was just beginning to tint the sky pink when the twins set off again. Each was silent, lost in his own thoughts, as they trekked steadily up the mountainside. Again they were on a Ridge: on their right was towering rocks with overhanging snowdrifts and tall evergreens, while on their left there was a steep, rocky drop. There were many small caves carved into the rock wall, but Elladan and Elrohir did not bother to search for the marks of the injured and dead continued on by.
They walked for several hours, the knowledge that they were less than a day from where their mother was being held drove them on relentlessly. Nearing noon, the sky darkened as though from a storm, thought the weather remained clear and mild.
Suddenly there came a great rumbling noise from above. Elladan and Elrohir instantly drew back against the mountain's protecting wall. Not far down the path, snow and dust began to hurtle down. It spread towards the Elves, making them cough and choke. Finally the rockslide appeared.
Though Elladan and Elrohir were right beside each other, the noise was so great they could not have heard if the other said something.
The slide continued rapidly for several moments, seeming to grow louder and larger every moment. Finally everything quieted and, after the dust settled, the twins ventured away from the shelter of the mountainside.
Below them, everything was hazy and brown from the dust. In front of them was another mountain of debris, so high the twins knew it would be easier to get around it than over it.
After wading through knee-deep rubble to the edge of the path, they stood side-by-side for a moment, wondering how to manage to get down without causing another rockslide.
'Glorfindel shall not be able to continue past this on the path, at least,' Elladan said after a moment. 'Unless he leaves the horses.'
'Which he will not do,' Elrohir immediately countered. 'Why were we so foolish as to try to take the horses on the ridge? If we had done otherwise, Beleg would still have been alive. My heart tells me we shall regret having no mount.'
'It was unwise of us,' admitted Elladan, still eyeing the distance from where they stood to the still-settling dust at the bottom of the drop: it was a good two hundred feet.
Suddenly Elrohir gave a squeak of surprise. 'Glorfindel! It is Glorfindel!'
Indeed, Glorfindel was within sight, a little below them but steadily getting nearer.
'He will have seen the landslide; at the least, all the dust. Quick, before he sees us too!' Elladan grabbed at Elrohir's hand, but found it snatched away from his.
'Elladan, do not be a fool! We will only start another landslide if we try to go too fast!' Elrohir grabbed Elladan and pulled him from the edge of the path. 'We have to think.'
'There is no time to think, muindor. He will quicken their pace when they see the battle scene and –'
Giving no warning, Elladan leapt for the edge again, with Elrohir in tow and instinctively curled himself into a ball, covering his head with his hands, releasing Elrohir's hand so that Elrohir could do the same.
They finally stopped at the bottom. They were both unhurt and scrambled to their feet, dusty and shaken. 'You could have gotten us killed, Elladan!' Elrohir hissed at his brother, rubbing a sore knee. 'Why did you do such a thing?'
'Because of that,' Elladan said, pointing to a ways down the path.
Now the sun glinted off not just snow but also spears and armour. 'We were just in time,' Elladan said smugly. 'Hurry up before they see us down here.'
He led the way towards the hill the rockslide had created. Glancing back at the mounted Elves, Elladan and Elrohir saw that they were already turning their horses to take a detour around the blocked area of the path.
'Well, at least they will not see us now,' Elrohir said in an almost downcast voice.
It took longer than they expected to get to the other side of the blockade. By the time they did, their hands were torn and bleeding from all the times they had slipped and had had to claw at rocks and the rough-barked trees to keep their balances.
Now, though they were at the other side of the barrier, they had to climb back to the path, which proved to be even more difficult that getting where they were now had been.
The rubble was treacherously slippery, causing them to take no more than a few steps before sliding back. They finally discovered that if they took several hurried steps, flung themselves to the ground, and stayed prone for a moment while the rubble stopped shifting around them, and then slowly moved to a standing position, they managed well enough.
Even so, it took them nearly two hours to reach the path again, and they worried that Glorfindel had gotten ahead of them.
When Elladan voiced this concern to his brother, Elrohir was slow to answer. 'Glorfindel may come turn out to be invaluable in this, Elladan. How are we supposed to get Naneth home alive with no horses – and now this?' gesturing to the mountain of rocks blocking the path.
'He sent us home,' Elladan said, though he knew Elrohir was correct.
'We shall simply have to say that we sent ourselves here again,' Elrohir quipped, despite the serious moment.
Elladan could not resist the urge to chuckle. 'We should go; we have wasted much time tying to get back onto the path and now here we are, talking.'
They set off at a quick jog. It was an hour past noon now and they had about four hours before dark. They had lost precious time trying to climb the steep incline and now they risked waiting for the new day to find Celebrian or trying to find her in the dark.
They, after some discussion, decided if they did not find tracks before the sun went down, they would wait for the next day. They had not slept well for many days now, and they would have to be alert for the fight.
Indeed they had found nothing important when the sun disappeared behind the hills. They found a sheltered area of the mountain and settled down, keeping each other warm.
The next morning they rose, refreshed and filled with anxiety mixed with anger and hatred for the foul creatures which had had hold of their mother for so long.
They ran over the snow-covered path in silence, not speaking, paying attention only to the path in front of them, and watching for stray guards.
Suddenly, with no warning, Elrohir grabbed Elladan's arm and pulled him down over the side of the path. Luckily, this time they were rolling on merely snow, not rocks as well, and nothing was alerted to their presence.
'Yrch – over the opening of the cave. He would have seen us if we had turned the corner,' hissed Elrohir in his brother's ear.
Elladan looked up: sure enough, three Orcs were patrolling a cave, strutting back and forth, scimitars drawn, darting their beady little eyes back and forth.
Elladan and Elrohir were quite safe where they were, they had come to a turn in the path when Elrohir saw one Orc. They could not be seen unless the Orcs came down to the path.
'How do we get at them, then? We cannot let them see us, otherwise they will alert those in the cave to our presence.'
'Naneth is in there! Let us just do it the easiest way. Get to the top of this hill as quietly as we can and shoot them from there.' Elrohir was growing impatient as he stared at the cave where they were sure Celebrian would be.
Elladan was not sure about this plan. He did not want to gamble. If something went wrong, it could mean that the Orcs would escape with their mother, or kill her and run. He did not risk such a thing.
'They are half-witted, Elladan, they will not know what hits them,' convinced Elrohir.
'Alright, just stop talking,' finally snapped Elladan in a whisper.
They stealthily climbed to the path again, staying just low enough to be sure that the Orcs would not see them.
They did have a slight problem, though: two Elves for three Orcs. One twin would have to kill the remaining Orc immediately after the two others fell, for it would sound the alarm.
Finally, though, the arrows were nocked to the bows and knives and swords were loosened in their sheaths. 'Now!' muttered Elladan and the two arrows were released into the air, and the sun hit something shiny hurtling through the air a moment after. There came a satisfying thud and Elladan and Elrohir saw their arrows had struck home in the Orcs' throats, killing them instantly and silently. The knife, thrown by Elladan, had landed between the third Orc's eyes, also killing him immediately.
They waited a moment to make sure there were no other Orcs that they had not noticed, hiding behind the hill or the trees.
When all was quiet, they dashed across the path and entered the cave, drawing their swords as they did so.
There was the unmistakable smell of Orcs and Elladan could not help but wrinkle his nose at it. Elrohir did not seem to be bothered by it, not that he let on.
'Come on,' he cried to Elladan in a low voice, remembering the echo that would repeat his words.
All went well until they came to a branch in the cave. It branched off into three different passages, and none of them showed any sign of being the right one.
The twins knew that it would be foolhardy to separate: one of them could hardly fight the Orcs that had captured their mother, along with the company that had passed them days before. But two of them could surely not last long, either, Elrohir thought wryly. If only Glorfindel came now, he thought wistfully.
As they stood thinking, hoarse shouts came from down the left-hand passageway. Elladan and Elrohir hurriedly hid themselves in the middle one and waited.
Soon enough, Orcs came screaming through the passage, running past the Elves and down the right-hand passage. From down the left passage, there came a great sound of falling rock and rubble.
Elladan and Elrohir lost no time in making their way down the right passage, following their mother's captors. They came to a main chamber and stopped. In the dim light, they saw their mother, chained to the wall with a ring around her neck, as well as her ankles and wrists.
Her eyes were closed in torment, her dress hung on her in rags and her hair was matted with dirt and blood. And it was cut. It fell unevenly around her shoulders, some reaching past, some not even that long anymore. Elladan and Elrohir had loved playing with the silver tresses as children, weaving ribbons and flowers into it as she sat sewing or reading. Now they could imagine the strands lying trampled on the floor, or perhaps tied to the leader's belt or even fasted to his hair thong, mixing the silver hairs in with his vile ones.
Elladan caught his breath, trying to contain his anger at these creatures, who had reduced their radiant mother to this pale, lifeless person hanging from the wall.
Suddenly, as though sensing her sons' presence, Celebrian forced her eyes open and looked towards the mouth of the passage where her twins were hiding in the shadows. Too weak to make a sound, she rolled her head in distress and mouthed, 'No.'
The Orcs happened to notice this, for she continued moving her lips. They followed her gaze, but they did not observe the Elves, for they did not have Celebrían's vision. 'Something's out there,' the leader finally said when Celebrian, not noticing she had caught her captors' attention, continued mouthing words. 'Go get it.'
Before the Orcs could move, Elladan had stepped out, an arrow put to the string of his bow. 'Yes, we are here, you filth! Now come and fight us!'
The Orcs did not see Elrohir immediately; when they looked again, they saw that he also had nocked an arrow, ready to use it on the first Orc that threatened his mother or brother's lives.
The Orcs, while not intelligent, were not cowards. After hesitating only a moment from curiosity and surprise, they leapt at the two Elves, screaming. The twins' arrows had kept the Orcs at bay, but at length they ran out of arrows. Swiftly they drew their swords and continued fighting.
But there were many Orcs and they had the advantage. Before long, Elladan and Elrohir were tiring, their movements slowing. Despite this, when there remained only a couple dozen Orcs left alive in the chamber, both sides were halted abruptly by one of the larger Orcs: he had crawled unnoticed up to Celebrían's side and was now holding a knife to her throat.
'Drop yer weapons, or the she-Elf will die,' he hissed from between blood-covered teeth.
Elladan and Elrohir stopped in shock when they realised what the Orc was doing, but neither dropped his sword. 'I will drink her blood,' the Orc continued, shifting the knife to Celebrían's arm and shoving it in.
As their mother screamed in agony, the Orc withdrew his blade and ran his filthy tongue up and down the length of it. All the while, he kept a wary eye on the twins, ready for any move. 'Are you going to force me to bleed yer pretty mother, or will you put down yer nasty swords?'
Elladan and Elrohir did not let their eyes leave their mother and the Orc. The Orcs around them closed in on them and began jeering. Metal rang on stone as Elrohir dropped his blade, which was soon followed by Elladan's.
The Orcs, however, seemed to fear touching the Elven weapons, and instead the Elves were gestured over to the wall. 'Stand there and do not move,' the leader instructed. 'Move one of them there,' gesturing to the other side of the room. 'We do not want them to try anything, do we now? They just want to watch their mother!' With that, he drove the knife into Celebrían's arm again.
The pain was too much for Celebrían's severely weakened body and she sagged in her fetters, consciousness about to leave her.
'She will choke to death!' cried Elrohir frantically. 'The metal around her neck will block her airway!'
The Orcs guarding him did nothing but jeer and gurgle at his concern.
Elladan, from across the room, glared at Elrohir in worry and frustration as much as anything else. 'Be quiet, Rohir, they are looking for that reaction,' he said in Elvish. 'They will make sure Naneth will not die.' This last sentence was said calmly, but Elrohir could see that it took all of Elladan's willpower not to grind it out in his anger.
The Orc continued to torment Elladan and Elrohir by making small cuts on their mother's body, and at last they could bear it no longer.
Drawing hidden knives from their tunics, they rushed to the center or the room, standing back to back as they faced their unpleasant companions.
The Orcs, though, seemed to have expected such a movement some time, and moved so that most of them were standing in front of Elladan, leaving only four in front of Elrohir.
Both of the Elves were confused and did not move, fearing some sort of trap. The Orcs slowly stalked closer to Elladan, keeping just out of range of his knives. While Elladan was concentrated on keeping himself clear of the Orcs, the four in front of Elrohir were doing the same to Elrohir. When none of them could find an opening though, the smallest got impatient and, nocking a thick-shafted arrow, shot it towards Elrohir.
Elrohir's attention had left the small Orc for a second, but it was drawn back by the whistle of the arrow as it left the bowstring. The arrow was coming straight at him; there was no time to duck, and he had no shield. Besides, if he ducked, it would hit Elladan. At the last moment, Elrohir swung his body around, shoving Elladan to the right, causing both to fall to the ground with the force of the movement. The arrow fell harmlessly to the rock floor.
However, the Orcs attacking Elladan had not seen the Orc shoot at Elrohir, and, at the sudden movement Elrohir had made, another one had also shot.
Elladan felt a blinding pain in his left shoulder, though he did not know what had caused it. He supposed he had fallen in such away to injure his arm. Ah well, what does it matter now? he morosely thought. Surely we are going to die here.
As he and his brother waited to be yanked up by thick, muscled arms, they noted that the Orcs were still screaming, but not in anger or surprise only, also in fear. Then they were being dragged towards the wall again by a foul-smelling Orc. Elladan struggled, all of a sudden feeling terribly weak; he felt for his bond with Elrohir but there was nothing. Something solid struck his head, and he knew no more.
Suddenly most of the Orcs were gone, down one of the passageways. The remaining three fell dead a moment later, gurgling away their dying breaths, further impaling themselves on their own swords.
Elladan seemed to hear shouting from a great distance, but he paid no attention to it at first. Then he realised that it was not the harsh rasping of Orc voices, but the melodious sound of Elves.
Slowly he forced his eyes open. He found himself lying beside Elrohir in the same room where they had fought the Orcs. He supposed the Orc-bodies had been taken away to be destroyed, for they were no longer in sight. But in the dim torchlight, he saw Glorfindel's golden hair as he wove through the crowd of Elves.
Suddenly an Elf noticed him looking around. 'Elladan is awake, my lord,' he announced in a quiet voice to Glorfindel.
Glorfindel hurriedly made his way over to Elladan and his brother. As Glorfindel knelt down beside Elladan, he tried to sit up, but found himself restrained by Glorfindel's hand on his shoulder.
'Stay still; you have taken a slight arrow wound to the side,' Glorfindel said in explanation. 'It is not serious.'
Elladan refrained from rolling his eyes in frustration. He shifted his hands on the stone floor to find a more comfortable position, and his right hand landed in something wet and sticky: blood. Was it his or Elrohir's?
'What happened to Elrohir?' he asked suddenly as he noticed his pale twin lying beside him, still unconscious.
Glorfindel narrowed his eyes, as though puzzled. 'I do not know,' he answered truthfully. 'He does not seem to be injured, not physically, at any rate,' he continued. 'I think he is merely fatigued and overcome by anxiety. It is a state you shall soon be in if you do not rest.'
'Overcome by anxiety...' Elladan paused as though collecting his thoughts and remembering things. 'Where is Naneth?' he suddenly asked. 'Is she alright?'
'Your mother is as well as can be expected. We have had to start the journey with her already. The three of you could not be kept together. You could not be moved and Celebrian could not stay.'
Elladan tried to keep tears from his eyes. He had found his mother only to lose her again. The whole reason they had set out, in disobedience, was to rescue her and stay with her till she returned to their father, and now, before being able to speak with her, she was gone again.
No matter how hard he tried, the tears slipped out from beneath his eyelashes, now squeezed together tightly in a vain attempt to withhold them.
A/N: Hope you enjoyed it; please read and review!