Disclaimer: See chapter 1

I apologize for any mistakes in this chapter. (See, I don't use my characters as scapegoats.)

Thea held the knife in her grasp, pointing it at the target 'Ro had created. She breathed out once and released. The weapon sailed through the air, jerking to a stop on the target- third ring from the center, almost the fourth. She sighed, her shoulders slumped.

"Don't worry." 'Ro reassured. "You'll get better. I did."

"Did you start this bad?" She accused, anger and a bit of humiliation chasing away her common sense.

"Well, no." He admitted, "But, then again, I was already a master at the bow and arrow. All I had to do was adjust my grip and get used to change in weight. Accuracy doesn't change. You have to start from scratch. It was easier for me because I had something to go on."

"I guess you're right." She said, a sigh of resignment escaping her lips.

"Come now." 'Ro said in a voice similar to a chastising one. He crouched, so that she would have to look down at him, and placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, giving her a comforting smile all the while. "You can get this. I know you can."

"Really? How's that?" She sat back, crossing her arms and looking away. Perhaps it was to hide the tears starting to form in her eyes.

"It's your eyes."

"My eyes?' She asked, turning back to him, a note of confusion creeping into her voice.

"Yes, your eyes. They have a fire in them, hot and burning. I have seen a flame like that before. In the eyes of my gwador, Legolas, as he charged into battle. Or, hidden behind a façade of calm from my little brother as he planned a strike of his warriors. Or, blazing and furious when my brother Elladan's rage was ignited. It is the sign of one who is determined, one who will not back down, not be defeated. It is the sign of one who works for a goal until they can reach, and I fear for any obstacle that stands in their way." He finished with a small laugh, but it soon died, along with his smile. It became suddenly clear that talking about his old life still felt like taking a knife to old wounds just to watch them bleed.

"'Ro? What is it?" He had sunk down to his knees without even noticing. Thea bent down gracefully and sat cross-legged in front of him. He lifted his hooded-headed. Thea had not seen his face. She had not heard his story. But, if she did, would she understand his pain?

With shaking hands, 'Ro reached up to the crown of his head and pulled down the thread-bare cowl, then reaching down and shifting the mask from his nose and face to pile up in folds around his neck. He couldn't fathom why his hands were trembling. Perhaps it was because Thea was the first elf he had told the story to. The only other people who knew it were Rubah, Diatimur, and Utara.

Thea gave a little gasp; her hands instinctively coming up to cover her mouth in shock. 'Ro didn't blame her. He had never seen an elf look like he did now. His skin was creased from a long exposure to wind and rain; his hair was cut short, ending at the top of his neck- it wasn't very clean either. It wasn't in an elvish style. His silver eyes still seemed wise, but now also dead and dark. The fire that once burned in those grey orbs like it did in Thea's now was gone, leaving only a bleakness in its wake. Her eyes also held that darkness in them, but there was also hope. 'Ro's eyes were void of that.

"As you probably guessed, 'Ro isn't my real name. It's not elvish." Thea's hands slowly came back down, and she nodded a little numbly.

"It's a fake name…" 'Ro stared into the blueish depths of her eyes.

"Yes… sort of." Thea cocked her head a little to the side.

"What do you mean, 'sort of'?" 'Ro shifted his gaze to the ground.

"It was my nickname. I am no longer worthy of my old name. Besides, it hard to pass as a human if I had an elvish name." A bit of understanding crept into Thea's eyes.

"True. That's why Ivan and I go by these names." She said, "You didn't really think that we were elves with the names Ivan and Thea?" She added at 'Ro's look, "We went by those names because… well, we were almost positive that the Pencuri Orang didn't know we were elves. They might have guessed, as we didn't seem to age, but they didn't know. We didn't want them to, either. So, we took human names to go by." She looked at the ground, "But now that we're escaped, it feels as if our old names aren't ours anymore, that we're still Ivan and Thea." She shook her head. "But enough of us, what were you saying?" 'Ro looked up at her for a second, then quickly looked back down and away from her searching gaze.

"My old name- not my real one, my old one- was Elrohir of Imladris." Thea's eyes lit up again.

"Lord Elrohir?" He nodded slightly and dejectedly. "What happened? Why did you leave?"

"I-I… I was an oblivious idiot." She raised her eyebrows and 'Ro sighed. He knew that he wouldn't have gotten away so easily. "I had been traveling alone. When I was journeying home, I was so excited that I didn't even realize that I was being followed. By Orcs." Thea inhaled sharply, and 'Ro tried to ignore it. "When I got there, they set fire to my city." He looked up and met Thea's gaze squarely. "They knew who the lords of Imladris were." His eyes hardened, and a red anger crawled into them. "And those monsters set them aflame as well." Thea's eyes widened. "I ran." He managed to croak out. "But they attacked me on the way out. Rubah found me, healed me. I thought they both died. I only learned recently that my father survived. Doesn't matter. My brother's still dead. They believe that the Orcs attacked and killed me before I ever reached the valley." He looked back down. "That's what I want. For them to think me gone. I usually go by 'Ro, but when I'm around elves, I claim to be Celebaelin of Lothlorien." Thea took a slow breath.

"My old name was Dúanga and Ivan's was Culcú." Her eyes grew darker and the light in them seemed to dim. And for the first time in the conversation, she turned her head to look down. "And I know the pain of losing a sibling." 'Ro looked at her sharply, but she didn't move.

"What do you mean?" He finally asked when she did not elaborate.

"When I was young, I had an elder sister, Brethilarien, whom we always just called Arien. As you know, most elvish siblings are about two-hundred years apart. However, our parents had wanted twins, so that their children would never be lonely." Thea shifted slightly. "Because of that, Ivan and I have only about a year between us- Ivan being the older-, making us twins in our own right. Arien, however, was about one-hundred-fifty-years older than us. When Ivan and I were about six-hundred-thirty-five, my mother's brother, our uncle Eregfalas, died on while on patrol. It was the first and only time I ever saw her cry. Ivan and I didn't know what to do. Our mother had always been so strong, so unbreakable. Yet, there she was. Arien tried to make her feel better, but, in the shared grief of our mother and father, our father yelled out her to leave. And Arien, sweet, gentle, Arien, did as she was asked. She packed her bags and left. Not out of spite, you see, but love. She thought that they didn't want her anymore and left because Arien loved a love that was so strong she would die in an instant to save another. I never saw her again. That was a little over three-hundred years ago. I accepted that… she's dead by now. No one that age could survive so long by themselves." 'Ro swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat.

"What… what about your parents?" He asked at last.

"They died in the Pencuri Orang's attack. We had been on a trip to Imladris with a few other families. We were the only survivors." She laughed a cold, humorless laugh. "If the Pencuri Orang wanted slaves, they shouldn't kill ninety-five-percent of every party they attack."

"Do you have other family in Lothlorien?" Thea nodded.

"An aunt and some cousins. But I can't go back there. Not yet, anyway." 'Ro nodded. He understood that, at least.

"How close… how close were you to Arien?" Thea gave a sad smile.

"Very close. We used to dance together. She was already a professional dancer, even though she was still about three-hundred years from being an adult. But she always said I was better than her." A blush appeared on her cheeks. "I never believed her. She was an average dancer, no one ever paid much attention to her, not more than they would to other dancers. But I, I never danced for anyone back then. Not even Ivan. Only with Arien. She said I could have been one of the greatest ever, as good as Luthien. It wasn't true, but it was a nice dream. Since then, the only person I've danced for has been my brother." 'Ro gave a soft smile, placing a hand on Thea's shoulder. She looked up at him, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Hey, gwanur?" Her eyes lit up and she nodded.

"Gwanur." She agreed. 'Ro stood and held out a hand and she took it, pulling herself up. He went over and removed the knife from the target, walking back to her. He pressed it into Thea's hand.

"Try again."

She breathed in once and faced the target. The world fell away. It was just her, the knife, the rings of the target, and the comforting presence of her new gwanur beside her.

Thea threw the knife.

And this time, it hit dead center.

Author's Note:

HELLO! Hope you like the new chapter! We'll be getting back to Erestor in the next one. If anyone was wondering, Arien would have been about twelve in human years when she left after her uncle died, and Ivan and Thea ten.

You know, I'm kind of surprised that no one asked how 'Ro knew Utara and Diatimur were coming in the chapter People Thieves: Arrival of the Riders. Anyway, you'll find out soon!

Is it to unbelievable that Thea went from hitting the third- almost fourth- ring to a bulls-eye? I hope not. You should be surprised what the power of belief and love can do!

As you find out later, 'Ro is much closer to Thea then he is to Ivan, though he is close to both and calls them both gwanur.

Translations:

Gwanur: Cousin-not-in-blood (unisex word)