Author's note: This is one of my longer chapters… I also think it's not particularly good... Anyone know how to make it better?

The blackness they had encountered when they had finally arrived in the mountain was absolute.

"I do not remember it being this dark," Elladan said to his twin in a low voice.

"That would be because the torches were lit last time," Elrohir replied.

They walked in silence for a while.

Glorfindel realised, to his horror, that they were taking the same path that four of their company had walked long ago…

'Be prepared for the worst' his second-in-command's voice rang in his ears again. He shuddered. Nothing could have prepared him for that night…

Torchlight flickered ahead, and the company picked up its pace.

They entered a large cavern.

Libran immediately sought his little brother. Legolas was on his knees, hair darkened by the dry blood in it, fresh bruises covering his face. Behind him, another Elf stood, his hands on Legolas's shoulders, keeping him down.

The other side of the cavern, an orc held a blade to an unconscious human's throat. Libren heard Elladan and Elrohir growl lowly.

In the middle of the two prisoners and their captors, stood a woman. She was smiling, her black eyes twinkling in the torchlight.

"Welcome my lords," she purred.

"Moril," was Elrond's cold reply.

"What is it you want?" Thranduil demanded.

"Me, want? I have no idea what you mean," Moril said innocently.

"You capture our sons, send us a note saying that you have them, give us a sure way of discovering where your base is, and then you do not want anything from us?" Thranduil cried in disbelief.

Moril's smile brightened, "I have everything I want right here. Durband, give the order."

"Attack!"

Suddenly, orcs came pouring into the cavern. Elladan ran towards Aragorn, drawing his sword and started to fight. Orc after orc fell to his swift blade, but more came. He felt the presence of his twin, and then felt Elrohir's back against his. This was their preferred method of fighting in orc dens.

"Where is he?" he heard Thranduil cry out.

"Elladan, Elrohir, away from Estel! The orcs are concentrating their efforts on you; you are putting him in danger!" Glorfindel's voice cried out.

Elladan pushed his right shoulder blade against Elrohir, the signal to go left. As the twins shifted, Elladan was given a view of the rest of the company.

Thranduil and Libren fought side by side, Celeblas and Amren defending their King and heir from attacks behind them. Elrond was fighting his way over to Moril, who stood watching the bloodshed, a sword in her hand. The orcs guarding Aragorn and Legolas were now dead, and Glorfindel was defending Legolas, as the latter fought, wincing from his injuries. Elladan glanced about, but couldn't see Niphredil anywhere. Nor could he see Durband…

The Orcs had cornered her, and forced her down a corridor, into an antechamber. With a feeling similar to a dagger in the gut, she realised that it was the chamber in which she had found her Mother. Stone cold dead, the crimson blood still flowing between her thighs…

Repressing the urge to vomit, she began fighting more fiercely, trying to break free. But every time she slew an orc, the next orc stood in its place.

Thankfully, although the orcs were skilled, they were few in number, and she was soon finishing off the last one. She kicked its legs from under it. As it fell, she brought her sword down in one straight plunge. It died instantly as Niphredil's sword through its chest.

Suddenly, someone slammed into her side. Her sword slipped from her fingers, and she fell to the floor.

A heavy body pinned her down. She was flipped onto her back. She stared up at Durband's face.

She attempted to dislodge herself, but only succeeded in wriggling slightly.

"Stop that," Durband growled. The ill-concealed lust in his voice only made her more desperate to escape.

"There's no need to be afraid," he paused thoughtfully, "I wonder if you are as tight as your Mother…"

Niphredil stiffened at those words. Durband took the opportunity to kiss her neck. She shuddered, repulsed at the feel of his lips.

"But then…." Another kiss, "you should be," and another, "you are a virgin, I can smell it."

"Amin feuya ten' lle" she spat.

He gave a low laugh, and his hands began to slide down to her chest…

Suddenly, something smashed into them, knocking him off of her.

Gasping for air, she sat up, and watched as Glorfindel killed Durband with a swift stroke to the neck.

She slowly stood up, her legs still shaking. Her Mother's face, contorted with pain, swam in front of her face. Celebrían's sobbing rang in her ears.

"Nymph?" A hand laid on her shoulder grounded her, bringing her back, reminding her of the present.

"Ada."

A yell from the main hall caused them both to turn.

"Tol, we are needed," Glorfindel said, slipping an arm over her shaking shoulders.

Amin feuya ten' lle- You disgust me

Tol-Come