A Mysterious Disappearance, A Broken Home

by Elfwarrior96

While on a journey to Rohan, Elrond goes missing. After over two years go by with almost no sign, and there are those that think he is dead. But then a horse, the horse that disappeared with him, finds its way back to Rivendell. Does this mean Elrond has returned? If so, what happened to him? Can the twins lead Rivendell without him and still have hope they will find him one day?

14. Chapter 13: Searching and Seeking

A/N: Hi everyone! This chapter is a bit longer than my usual chapter length, but it is important for it to be so long. Sorry if it seems a bit too long. The next one is just as long, but even more important. We are almost there! We are almost in Rivendell! In the meantime, please read, review, and enjoy. Things get better after this, I promise! I promise with all my heart that things get better. See you next time!

---

Spring had come to Rivendell, yet it did not feel as such. The air was bleak and heavy, the green of the trees and the blueness of the water dulled and lifeless. The inhabitants of Rivendell hardly fared any better: their grief over their lord's death draining their energy and driving away their purpose. They had lost hope, and the valley was suffering for it.

At least, that is what Thranduil thought as he entered the valley, followed by his warriors. He watched those he passed carefully, seeing how life seemed to have drained out of the valley without its Lord. Rivendell was broken, it's spirit dead, and not even Elladan and Elrohir together could fix that.

Thranduil sighed, knowing that not even revenge could help the valley. It was suffering without it's Lord. Reaching out with his senses, he felt the power of one of the Three; the burning energy of Narya, the Ring of Fire.

So...Gandalf was here, giving the valley protection and trying to lift the hope of all there. But Thranduil knew it would take more than that to restore the Valley's life and spirit. Only Elrond could do that, and he was gone beyond the White Harbor, where those that went never returned.

Thranduil was drawn from his thoughts by the sound of galloping hooves and a call of, "Veryafion, come back here!" He looked up and only the lightning-fast reflexes of the Sindar enabled him to catch the rope dangling from the mare's halter as she ran past him. She jerked to a stop, nearly wrenching his arm out of its socket, and yet he did not let go. She wheeled around to face him, teeth snapping the air in challenge. Her ice-blue eyes flared and her ears were pinned in anger. She reared in challenge trying to intimidate and get him to let her go, yet Thranduil was unfazed. He knew she would not strike him. He was one of the few she actually liked enough to not bite or kick when she was angry.

She landed, pawing the ground in anger, and Thranduil only said, "It is good to see you too, Veryafion. It seems you are still a master escape artist," he looked closer at her, seeing her desire and conflict, and raised a hand to her cheek. He rested it there, asking quietly, "What do you know? What are you searching for?" opening his mind as he said so.

Veryafion only kept eye contact, not revealing anything for a moment. Then she opened her Song to him and he heard far, far away a beautiful soprano. Closer still was a Song similar to Veryafion's that Thranduil knew belonged to her sister who wandered Middle-Earth as she desired and...that was all. The very weak, thin tenor was drowned out by the Song of Gwaereneth. There was nothing else Thranduil could hear. Coming back to his own mind he opened his eyes to Veryafion looking at him imploringly, asking him to let her go. He did not, saying, "Your sister needs to wait, Veryafion, and you cannot leave the valley. Asfaloth and your children need you."

The mare's stare was one of disbelief and outrage as she realized he would not let her go. Not even snapping the air with her teeth near his face made him blink, and she would not kick his elk-mount because of his huge rack. And since she usually liked Thranduil she allowed him to lead her back to the stables, only slightly resisting. Thranduil knew he could not stop anywhere else as she would try to escape again. Behind him, waiting silently as he dealt with Veryafion, came one hundred of his finest hunters and warriors, ready and able to fight. All were mounted on horses and all were heavily armed. They were ready for whatever might happen in the pursuit of revenge.

They reached the stables quickly, Thranduil handing Veryafion over to Laeron whom she promptly bit, who said afterward with a wince, "My thanks, hir nín, for catching her. She has become a master of escape. This is the fourth time this week. Every time she uses a new trick that we do not know and is halfway out of the valley before we can do anything to stop her. The only reason she is still here now is that patrols find her and bring her back, usually biting and kicking the entire way. Not even the Lady Edhelvain can calm her now and can not go near her until she has had a chance to run around her pasture. She is aggravated about something, and we do not know what. It is only getting worse," wincing again as she bit him on the arm again, somehow managing to get the same place as before. Another groom approached carefully with a bandage and wrapped it around his arm, watching Veryafion warily the entire time, not wanting to get bit. He retreated as soon as he could, her ice-cold glare somehow more terrifying than Glorfindel in a temper if that was possible.

"She wants to go to her sister, and I do not think you will be able to stop her for much longer, Laeron," Thranduil said as he dismounted from Suldal his elk. Behind him his warriors did the same; tending their horses and securing their equipment before awaiting instructions.

Laeron nodded as he began to lead the mare inside the stables, having to pull much more than usual as she resisted every step of the way, "I know, but Lord Glorfindel does not want her to leave the valley. He is worried she is willingly looking for death, and he could not forgive himself if that happened."

Thranduil arched an eyebrow, "What do the twins say to that?"

Laeron shrugged, "Considering they were doing the same when they were given the chance, not much. Glorfindel has had to go after them more than ten times in the last few months and bring them back. Elrohir has about given up, but Elladan refuses to stop looking. I do not think he will ever stop. Something is driving him, and it is not revenge. He refuses to believe his father is dead and will not stop looking. Nothing anyone says can convince him otherwise."

"Then I will not try," Thranduil said, "It would be counterproductive and anger him unnecessarily. I will only give what support I can," he then turned to the groom waiting to tend Suldal, "He is fond of blackberries if you need him to do something he is unwilling to do. Please turn him out into a pasture, his rack is too large for the stables."

"Yes, my lord, it will be done," the groom said before taking the reins and leading Suldal away. Laeron left with a bow, leading a furiously snorting Veryafion away, who clearly did not want to go with him, but was too well-mannered to actually pull away from him again when she knew she would not be able to get away with all the elves in the stableyard.

Thranduil shook his head at the sight of her resisting as best as she could before making his way to the main courtyard, not wanting to keep his hosts waiting any longer. When he arrived with his captains only the twins, Glorfindel and Erestor were there. They all bowed when he arrived, with Elladan saying, "Aran Thranduil, it is good to see you. I hope the journey was uneventful and safe?"

"It was, Lord Elladan," Thranduil replied, "There were one hundred of us, the orcs dared not attack."

"You have brought many with you, my lord," Erestor said neutrally, face blank.

Thranduil nodded, eyes grim and determined, "They are my finest and stealthiest. We are here to help in any way we can," he gestured behind him at the two captains, "You already know Galion," the elf bowed his head and Thranduil nodded to the other, "and this is Tauriel. Neither wished to be left behind."

Elladan nodded, "We know of Tauriel, from the message you sent over a year ago. Thank you, Tauriel, for learning what you did. We are grateful."

Tauriel bowed her head, "I wish it could have been more, my lord."

"It was more than enough," Elrohir said with a slight smile that did not reach his eyes, "But come, you must be tired after your journey. We will show you to your chambers, my lord, and Merilinel will tend the captains," nodding at the she-elf who had appeared from nowhere as was her wont.

Thranduil nodding, knowing his warriors would be tended by Glorfindel and not be left to their own devices. He followed the twins while Glorfindel left to tend the warriors with a bow at the king and Erestor disappeared back to his office, trying to distract himself from his grief with paperwork.

Once alone he asked, "Has anyone else arrived yet?"

"No," Elladan said bluntly, "Lord Círdan is expected in a month or so, as are Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel. Our sister is coming as well, and they are bringing the girl Eafled from Rohan."

"Where is Gandalf?" Thranduil asked nonchalantly then murmured quietly, "I know what your father carried and I can sense what Gandalf carries protecting the valley. And I know what Galadriel carries."

The twins, who had stopped, turned to him in surprise, "How?" Elladan asked.

Thranduil returned that with an unblinking stare, "I sit on the same council when I so desire, and I am a king and a Sindar. I can sense the protections the Three offer the realms they protect."

"Oh," was all Elladan said, while Elrohir said, "Our apologies for saying nothing. We are forbidden to do so to protect the Bearers," Thranduil nodded, understanding easily, "Gandalf is trying to find Vilya and Avorneth, but Narya was not created for such things, so he is waiting for the Lady to try again. He has taken to secluding himself and we have no desire to endure his wrath if we were to interrupt him when he does not wish to be disturbed."

"I see," Thranduil said by way of response, and was silent as they continued on their way to the chambers set aside for him. When they arrived Elladan said, "Here are your chambers, my lord; if you have need of anything please ask one of the servants or aides and they will help. If you will excuse me, I have much to do still today," without waiting for an answer Elladan bowed and left without another word.

Thranduil turned to Elrohir who was opening his mouth as if to apologize for his brother's behavior. Thranduil placing a hand on his shoulder stopped him and the king said, "There is no need to apologize young one, I understand the burden and grief you share," Elrohir lowered his eyes, a tear sliding down his cheek and Thranduil smiled gently, understanding the pain he was in. He had felt the same pain when his mother and brothers had disappeared without a trace. He had been younger than the twins, and without Elrond and his father to help him, he would have been utterly lost in his grief. Thranduil gently raised Elrohir's head with a finger under his chin, looking into his tear-filled eyes. He drew him into a quick embrace before saying quietly, "Go ahead, go after him. I know my way around Rivendell well enough. I will see you at dinner," drawing away from Elrohir and gently pushing him down the hall after his brother.

Elrohir nodded and left, walking after his brother with his head bowed. Thranduil watched him go, knowing the pain he was in would never truly stop or heal, before opening the door and entering his chambers. It was the one he always stayed in when he visited Rivendell, and not much had changed if anything.

Looking around, Thranduil saw that the only difference was that Legolas was waiting for him. He smiled, which Legolas returned, rising from his seat and going to his father. They embraced for a long moment, having not seen each other for a long time and Thranduil rejoiced in being able to hold his son close once more. The letters between them had not nearly been enough over the years.

Legolas pulling away brought him back to the present and they settled into chairs in front of the hearth. After a few moments of silence, Legolas said, "I wanted to greet you in the courtyard, ada, but thought better of it. The twins are in so much pain right now," eyes closing tightly as he said this, trying to keep his own tears at bay. He was not entirely successful as one tear slide down his cheek, but his father pretended not to notice, knowing his son felt he was too old and mature to cry in front of his father.

Never mind the fact that his father did not seem to mind crying in front of him when he was upset or grieving about something truly upsetting.

Thranduil nodded, holding his son's hand tightly, "I know, ion nín, I know. All we can do is be there for them and give them help when they ask for it."

Legolas nodded, and silence followed for a long while. A silence that was broken by Legolas saying, "I am glad you are here, ada," he turned to his father, tears in his eyes, "because I honestly do not know what to do."

Thranduil smiled slightly, "I will help you, my son. You do not need to ask. Always I will help you."

"Always."

---

As Legolas and Thranduil spoke to each other of anything and everything that came to mind; many miles to the south, in the heart of the Enedwaith, Gwaereneth watched in anger as Elrond was again pulled from his horse and branded. The previous brand was not even slightly healed; they were only doing this to torture him and ensure that the brand would always be there even if he was rescued and healed. He was so weak he did not fight or resist when he was chained, hands behind his back, and then soundly beaten. Even a whip was used a few times.

The two Men that traveled with him looked as bad as he and were also being beaten with fists, and it was clear the horses were suffering; even the chestnut mare was showing signs of breaking down, her usual prancing and fiery temperament dulled by exhaustion and pain as she was beaten as well. As they were being beaten Gwaereneth was close enough to hear the woman say, "You know, I do not think you are actually following the rules of the hunt about not eating or sleeping," Gwaereneth's blood boiled in anger at her words, and the woman continued, "So, we are going to keep you in the camp for the day, until tomorrow, and make sure all three of you stay awake and not eat, just to make sure you are following the rules. The same will be done with your horses. And...just to make sure none of you try to alert anyone nearby of our presence..." she trailed off as the two Men were cruelly gagged, cloth stuffed into their mouths and then another strip tied around their mouths to hold them in place.

The same was done to Elrond, and he was too weak to fight off the giant as the same treatment was done to him. Once the giant finished the woman smiled cruelly and kicked Elrond in the stomach. His eyes flew open and he let out a muffled yelp as he tried to curl in on himself. He was too weak to move much though and the chains stopped him. The woman smiled and walked away to disappear into her tent while the giant dragged Elrond over to the others. He dropped the elf carelessly, not caring that he landed on his stomach and yelped in pain again. The two men were too tightly trussed to help him and they remained there the rest of the day and all night, with hunters constantly harassing them and their horses and keeping them awake. They were also tortured with food, and all three were starving.

Even though Gwaereneth noticed that Elrond had no interest in food and turned his head away, even the smell seeming to make him nauseous.

Elrond lay there and did nothing, but Gwaereneth noticed that he seemed to be struggling to breathe for a few minutes before it eased again and he tried to swallow again, but his throat was too dry. But she was surprised to see that his face was flushed and his nose was running. He was also coughing around the gag and seemed to be slightly delirious with a fever. Gwaereneth was reminded then that he had mortal blood, and it was completely possible for him to contract human illnesses if he was weak enough.

And he clearly was.

Morning came slowly, and the woman approached her victims after a leisurely, filling breakfast that she tortured them with. She looked them over like a butcher inspecting a choice cut of meat. She smiled before kicking Elrond again in the stomach. He yelped again in pain and her smile widened, always enjoying the pain that caused him, her insane mind loving the pain she caused him. The two bound Men only looked furious at her treatment of him, but then the woman said, "Well...I guess you do follow the rules, so it is time for you to go," she jerked her head at her men and they began removing gags and untying ropes.

As they did so one of the hunters was untying the cloth from around Elrond's mouth, but when he forced his mouth open nothing was there. He frowned, then turned to the giant standing nearby, "You did put a rag in his mouth, right?"

The giant nodded with a grunt, and the hunter turned to the captain, who only said dismissively, "He must have swallowed it in the night. He is still alive though, so he should be fine for now. I am sure he will not live for much longer, so what does it matter what is in his stomach? Just finish with him and let's go before our lady comes back," glancing at the woman who was speaking to her son and the nobleman's son who was hunting the Gondorian. The hunter nodded, and Elrond was unchained and forced to his feet once more but unable to stand, his feet had almost no feeling in them. The manacles around his ankles had cut off nearly all circulation to them. The Gondorian had to come and half-drag, half-carry him to the filthy black stallion and help him mount, the half-elf too weak to help in any way. Once certain he would not fall the Man went to his own gelding, now a muddy brownish-black with no visible sign that he had been a light-colored buckskin. Even the black stallion was an ugly brown, his distinguishing star and socks hidden under many layers of dirt and mud and sand.

Gwaereneth, looking closely and observing Elrond carefully, could see that he was also completely blind now from his exhaustion and lack of food, as he did not react to anything around him. His eyes, almost completely closed from exhaustion, stared straight ahead and did not focus on anything. He was only awake because of the pain in his stomach, still extremely tense as it seemed to be the only way to keep the pain at bay, and he was still hunched over with an arm around his stomach. Gwaereneth knew this was now a habit that he had to try and ease the pain. He ignored everything, his mind in shambles and his body failing.

He only had a few months to live now or he would be beyond all aid. This Gwaereneth knew, yet she could do nothing as she was suddenly forced back to Aman by Oromë who needed her help getting her herd to new pastures. Her and Nahar's herd was several thousand horses, and it took months to get them to new pasture. Nahar had been able to do it alone for the last year, but now with hundreds of new foals, he needed as much help as he could get. And she was the only one the mares would listen to when they were being unreasonable. Nahar had no sway with them at all at times, especially when they had new foals.

And Gwaereneth could not contest Oromë's will; it was by his grace that she was allowed to go between Aman and Arda when she desired. So she could only sigh and submit, promising herself she would return as soon as she could. She let her sister know what was happening and then got ready to give Nahar a piece of her mind when she returned about not being able to get mares to listen to him when he needed to and wanted her to do it.

Behind her, Elrond and his companions moved on, all too exhausted to notice Urelais' limp was getting even worse. Soon he would fail completely, and when that happened who knew what they would do?

---

A month after Thranduil's arrival saw Círdan entering the valley from the west and Celeborn, Galadriel, and Arwen entering from the southeast, bypassing Redhorn Pass completely. Eafled was with them, riding her own mare that Galadriel had given her. The mare understood she was blind and constantly looked for anything that might hurt the girl that she could not see that was at her height.

Eafled, despite being blind, listened carefully and smelled everything new and different in this valley from Lothlórien and was pleasantly surprised. The roar of the water was always present, and she could hear it everywhere, all around her. She could smell flowers everywhere and felt the sun on her face and the open air. Rivendell, even when she could not see it, was a beautiful place to be.

And yet, there was a sadness to it that even Eafled could sense. She could feel it in the air and she knew it was because their lord and her friend Arwen's father was dead. Galadriel had told her this and she felt sad for the Lady. Her son-in-law had been well-loved in Lothlórien and even more so in Rivendell, and it was clear even to Eafled that he was greatly missed.

Her mare lowered her head and Eafled leaned forward, ducking underneath a tree branch that had been about to hit her in the face. Next to her, Arwen smiled slightly, but it did not reach her eyes. Standing there in the courtyard were her brothers, Glorfindel and Erestor. Gandalf was nowhere in sight and neither was Legolas. In front of her her grandparents drew their horses to a halt, and so did she, Eafled's mare stopping of her own accord.

Celeborn dismounted first, going to help Galadriel dismount from her stallion, then walking to their grandsons. The twins bowed low, saying nothing until Galadriel said, "Now is the time to act and do what must be done. There can be no distraction, or hopeless seeking, for that which is lost," Elladan looked up quickly at her words but still said nothing.

Arwen dismounted then, followed by Eafled as the warriors that had come with them went to tend their horses and find lodging under Captain Dimethor. Haldir and his brothers had stayed for the winter to get everything ready for when they arrived. As Laeron and a few others took their horses to the stables Arwen approached, Eafled next to her.

Elrohir smiled sadly at her, "Mae govannen, gwathel, I am glad to see you."

Arwen only nodded before saying, "I would not miss this for anything. I have missed you," she turned to Eafled, "This is Eafled of Rohan; she wanted to come and explore Rivendell for a time and see what trouble she could cause," smiling slightly as she said this.

Elladan said quietly, "It is good to meet you, Eafled. I hope you like Rivendell. I want you to know every effort is being made to find your brother."

"Hannon lle, hir nín," Eafled said formally in flawless Sindarin, "I am grateful."

Elladan nodded, while Erestor said, "My name is Erestor, Eafled. It is a privilege to meet you; Galadriel has told us much about the girl from Rohan who is not afraid of a warg," Eafled smiled and blushed slightly, and Erestor continued, "I think Merilinel is here to get you settled, Eafled. If there is anything you need do not hesitate to ask."

"Thank you, I will," Eafled said, following Merilinel as Arwen and her grandparents stayed behind. As she left Círdan arrived, along with Galdor, and their troop of warriors made for the stables as well. By the end of this gathering together there would be almost three hundred warriors from three different realms staying in the valley, alongside the valley's warriors as well.

All in the courtyard bowed their heads as Círdan dismounted, Galdor continuing on his way to the stables with Círdan's mare. Círdan only looked at them before saying, "Are all here?"

Glorfindel nodded, "Yes, my lord, they are. Lord Thranduil arrived a month ago with a hundred of his best warriors and is waiting in the council room. He did not want to intrude."

"I see," Círdan said, "We should not keep him waiting then."

Everyone nodded, but Arwen stayed behind, deciding to change out of her travel clothes and show Eafled around Rivendell. Once in the council room greetings were exchanged between Thranduil, Legolas, and the others before they settled down to business. Gandalf arrived a moment later, looking slightly bothered. He was the first to speak, even before Galadriel could voice the question he was answering, "Vilya has not regained her power and reached out to be retrieved or renew the bond that was severed. She is not there and until she does so it means we cannot find her."

"What about that woman or stronghold?" Thranduil asked.

Gandalf shook his head, "That is not what Narya was crafted to do. She cannot find someone. Elrond was able to do so by combining his foresight and Vilya's command of the winds. Narya cannot."

"Neither can Nenya, only Vilya was capable of such a thing, and only with Elrond guiding her in doing so," Galadriel said angrily, "We must wait for Vilya to become stronger and reach out."

"What does it mean that she has not?" Elladan asked suddenly, surprising them, "Does it mean that she has another reason for remaining weak and drained? Why is she doing this?"

"It does not mean your father is still alive, Elladan," Celeborn said gently, "It could just be that Vilya is consolidating her power before reaching out."

"If you say so, Daeradar," Elladan said curtly and said nothing else for the remainder of the meeting.

Celeborn only glanced at him sharply, which Elladan ignored, before Círdan said, "So now we wait for Vilya to send us a sign? What about the two men that you reported traveling with Elrond, Gandalf? Is there a way to find them?"

"Perhaps," Gandalf said, "But I would need the Lady's help," turning to Galadriel who nodded.

"But only Vilya would know where to go to find that stronghold, and we would still be stuck in the same place until she is stronger," Legolas said.

"Maybe, but we would be able to get Eafled and Tordag home where they belong, and return Cendar to Gondor and his family," Gandalf said, "And perhaps in the process of finding them we would find that woman."

Legolas nodded, understanding what he meant by that while Glorfindel said, "We certainly have enough angry warriors on hand. All we need do is give them a place to go and a mission to complete."

"Maybe we should bring Veryafion along as well," Erestor muttered under his breath, "Laeron is getting tired of getting bit every day. It would be a good channel for all that volatile energy. It is like Mt. Doom getting ready to explode."

None laughed at that, knowing that Veryafion would likely never accept that Elrond was gone. Galadriel only said, "I will seek her out, perhaps I can calm her."

Elrohir was quick to shake his head, "I would not do that, daernaneth, she is very unpredictable right now. And it is never good if she is biting and kicking Laeron."

Glorfindel nodded in agreement, "It would be best if you stay away, for now, my lady. She will calm, eventually."

Galadriel sighed, "Very well, I can wait to speak to her if you think she is so volatile right now."

Elrohir and Glorfindel nodded, and the meeting adjourned soon after with everyone leaving to prepare for the feast that would be held later in the night. It was not a feast of celebration as there was nothing to celebrate, but only a feast to welcome all those that had journeyed to the valley.

Finally, only the twins remained, and Elrohir said, "You will be expected to host the feast tonight, Dan."

"And I will," Elladan said shortly, "But if anyone expects me to give up on my belief, then they have another thing coming," rising and leaving the room.

Elrohir stared after him a moment before also leaving, shaking his head in wonder at his twin and his stubborn refusal to believe he might be wrong.

If only he could do the same, Elrohir thought mournfully as he made his way to his chambers.

---

Arwen, with Eafled in tow, made for the stables knowing Edhelvain was there tending Veryafion. Eafled kept up easily using her clicking to find her way and not accidentally walk off a bridge or walkway into the Bruinen below. When they arrived they went straight to Veryafion's stall, where the mare was cross-tied to keep her from lashing out at passing elves. It did not stop her from trying, though, and more than one elf barely missed her teeth and her hooves. Her fillies were completely weaned from her and had their own stall now, which they shared together to keep their separation anxiety at bay until they could be put into stalls next to each other. Now that they were gone Veryafion was more than willing to exercise the more unpleasant side of her personality.

Edhelvain was there, grooming the mare and humming sadly to herself. Listening close Arwen realized she was humming the Lay of Nimrodel that all elves knew, especially the elves of Lothlórien.

Eafled knew it too, and waited for Edhelvain to stop before saying, "That is a very pretty song."

Edhelvain turned to her, eyes widening slightly, before bowing her head to Arwen and saying, "Thank you, little one. You are Eafled are you not?"

"I am," Eafled said, "And you are Avorneth's sister. I am really sorry that she is not here right now. She would love Rivendell, I think."

Edhelvain's voice caught for a moment before she said, "Thank you for your words, Eafled, I appreciate them more than you know."

Eafled smiled, then turned to Veryafion who was watching and listening and was very tense. She stepped forward boldly, not afraid of the mare, and placed a hand on her shoulder. Veryafion only looked at her and then returned to staring straight ahead, refusing to look at anyone and angry at everyone. Eafled frowned, "She is very tense, like my brother's mare whenever she wants to run. And she is angry too, I can feel it. It is not a good combination for a horse."

Edhelvain smiled sadly, "Veryafion was Lord Elrond's mare, Eafled," the mare let out a kick, splintering the back of her stall and Edhelvain sighed, "And she has not accepted his death yet. If she ever will," the mare kicked again.

Eafled only said thoughtfully, "Maybe you need to let her run, and perhaps find what she wants to look for. She will not calm down until that happens. And until then, she will keep biting and kicking. She is too wild for walls and fences. One day she will be gone, and you won't be able to find her ever again until she wants to be found. If she wants to be found."

Eafled walked away after that, and Edhelvain turned to Arwen who looked as confused as she. Sometimes Eafled seemed older than she actually was, and Arwen could not be sure if she could blame living with elves for that.

---

The feast that night was solemn with no laughter to be had or music to be sung. Elladan hosted, but he only said what was expected of him and nothing more before the feast started. As it was going on Círdan and Gandalf spoke closely.

"How are you doing, old friend?" Gandalf asked.

Círdan sighed, "Not that well, I am afraid," he looked down at his plate before meeting Gandalf's concerned gaze, "Galdor is a gift from the Valar, he has kept the Havens going for the last months so that I would not be bothered," a tear suddenly sliding down his cheek as he remembered another son he had lost, violently.

Gandalf placed a hand on his forearm before saying, "Both are at peace now, Círdan, never forget that. And you will see them both again. Just be patient."

"Aye, I will," Círdan said, before asking quietly, "But what do I tell Celebrían when I see her? I promised her when she sailed I would look after Elrond and I failed, utterly."

Gandalf had no response to that, only gripping his forearm tighter for a moment before returning to his own meal.

Eafled had decided to eat with Edhelvain, Faelher, and Dimethor that night. Faneth, Merilinel, Quildolorë and their husbands shared a table with them and listened to the girl about her adventures in Lothlórien and the trouble she got into in her village in Rohan. They all listened, and sometimes laughed, at her stories.

This left Arwen more or less alone, until Glorfindel turned to her, "How are you, penneth?" he asked quietly.

Arwen only said, "I am trying, Glorfindel, trying to keep going and keep having hope that things will be better, but I cannot. It is just too hard. And Elladan's hope does not help me with my pain," glancing at her brother across the table and down a ways.

Elladan was eating quietly, not paying anyone any attention and seemingly lost in his own thoughts. But Glorfindel knew he was still hoping, even going so far as to refuse to sit in the High Chair reserved for the Lord of the Valley.

Glorfindel sighed as he turned back to Arwen, "His hope keeps him going, Arwen, and nothing you or I can say will change that. Not even Elrohir has been able to change his mind. He does not mean to make things harder for you."

"I know Glorfindel, but it is still hard. First Naneth, now Adar. I just do not know how much more I can take," bowing her head to hide her tears.

Glorfindel only gripped her hand tightly saying, "You will endure, Arwen, you will find your way again. We are all here to help you. Just believe in yourself and the love everyone has for you and your family and you will be alright, in time."

Arwen nodded shakily, but it was clear she did not fully believe it.

Glorfindel stayed with her for the rest of the night after all moved to the Hall of Fire. The great hearth had been lit, yet there was no celebration or dancing or music. Elrond Half-elven's presence was clearly missed and none of his children had the heart to stay long. Once they left, not many others stayed and soon the hall was deserted, the fire burning low before going out completely in the dead of night.

And in the dead of night Galadriel, Gandalf, and Celeborn met in seclusion, in the gazebo above the valley where none could overhear them. They were all part of the White Council, along with Thranduil, but Thranduil had offered to help Laeron with Veryafion when she broke her stall door in her anger. They now needed to reinforce it, and only Thranduil was strong enough to hold Veryafion still and not get bit or kicked while they worked on her stall. And Veryafion respected him too much to lash out at him.

And so the council met, with Galadriel and Gandalf combining their power together to find Vilya and the fortress. They tried for hours, with the same results.

They failed.

Both wizard and elf-woman finally stopped, and Celeborn said, "Vilya is still severed from you, and the fortress is beyond where you can see," it was a statement, not a question.

"Yes, to both," Gandalf said, while Galadriel was frustrated and said as much, "I do not understand Vilya's actions, she should have some power back and be reaching out."

"The Rings often choose their Bearers, Galadriel," Gandalf said, "Perhaps Vilya is mourning in her own way. And she is the most powerful of the Three; she can ignore us for as long as she wishes."

Galadriel sighed, "I know, Mithrandir, it just does not make it easier to find Avorneth, or Eafled's brother, or Vilya herself. If only there was another way."

"I cannot think of any, Galadriel," Gandalf said, "All we can truly do is wait for Vilya to respond to us when she wants to," the two elves nodded then Gandalf said, "I think I will go and rest now. It is late, and these joints always ache this time of year."

The elves smiled slightly and Gandalf left, leaving them alone. Galadriel watched him leave, then turned and climbed the stairs to the outcropping looking over the valley. Celeborn joined her a moment later, waiting for her to speak. Eventually, she did, voice breaking as she said, "I was never able to tell him, Celeborn," swallowing hard, "I was never able to tell him how much he reminded me of Fingolfin, but also Thingol. And Glorfindel said he was starting to see more and more of Turgon in him as the years went by. His quiet strength, the unbreakable will, the wisdom of the Ages that is not taught through books and lore but through experience. I never told him how much of a king he was," Celeborn looked at her sharply, but Galadriel waved her hand, "I know he did not take the kingship of the Noldor, and I know it was because Gil-galad told him not to. But he was a king in all ways that mattered. Kind and gentle when he needed to be, but unbelievably fierce when his people were threatened. Just like Thingol. Just like Fingolfin. Just like Turgon. Imladris grieves for a king now, not a lord. All those that have followed him so faithfully never saw an orphan raised by Kinslayers or a prince without the title of a prince," she turned to her husband, "they saw a King and now he is gone and Imladris suffers. Indeed, all realms suffer now. Raised by Círdan, the closest friend to the Elvenking of Mirkwood, and our daughter's husband. He touched all realms, and now he is gone. Just like that."

Celeborn nodded, gathering her into his arms before saying, "But we are still here, Galadriel, and just like Elrond made sure the sacrifice of Gil-galad is never forgotten, we will do the same for him. And you are right, he did remind me of Thingol, Fingolfin, and Turgon. But he also reminded me of Beren. Beren was an unbelievable man, and Elrond was unbelievable in his own way. There was never any doubt in my mind that he was a king of elves and men in his own right. He had the respect and love of all, even the dwarves. He was definitely a unique person who opened his home to all, without asking anyone why they needed shelter."

Galadriel smiled at that, saying, "He will never be forgotten, not by elves or men, not by trees or water or earth. Always he will be remembered, until the End of All Days."

Celeborn drew her closer still, staying with her there the remainder of the night, drawing comfort from the quiet trickling of the water and rush of the wind and the shimmering stars above them. Above them, Eärendil was dim, almost invisible, in his own grief. But it was not grief over his son's death.

It was grief over something far worse.

---

Arwen, as her grandparents mourned above her, had decided to go to her favorite bridge hidden deep in the gardens for quiet and solitude. She had just finished getting Eafled settled for the night and needed some time away from her brothers and family. Glorfindel and Círdan had watched her leave, she knew, but they both respected her need for solitude and did not follow. And she was much safer in Rivendell then she was in Lothlórien, with so many soldiers and paranoid border guards jumping at every little sound.

And so Arwen was alone at her favorite place. It was here that she and her father would go to talk and enjoy the stars and the water. Here the trees were close and the bridge spanned a small offshoot of the Bruinen that disappeared down into a gorge below. Here she could be alone with no fear of anyone overhearing. And it was here that she had first met Maglor.

She had been a young child that had slipped away in the night to watch the stars, alone, and knew that this bridge was almost always empty of everyone once evening fell. She had made it there undetected and was watching the stars when she sensed someone in the shadows deeper in the gardens. She had let her curiosity get the better of her and had felt safe moving deeper into the gardens, the shadows giving her no fear. Not once had she been afraid of the dark when the stars were out, and that still had not changed. Following the path had led her so deep into the garden the House disappeared, and when she finally emerged from the trail into a clearing she saw him.

Maglor Fëanorion, even though she did not know who it was at the time, sat there on a large rock, harp in hand, strumming gently and humming to himself. He was gazing at the stars as he did so, his mind a world away, and only stopped when she had been there for many long minutes. He had looked at her and smiled, saying softly, "Are you not supposed to be in bed, child? It is rather late and your father will be worried."

"I came to watch the stars," she had replied boldly, not afraid of this strange elf, "I did not know you were here," turning to leave.

Maglor had sighed, "No, do not leave child, I was not chasing you away. You may stay with me if you like, and watch the stars with me if you want."

"Really?" she had asked, and Maglor had nodded with a smile. She went to him and sat at his feet, gazing up at the stars as he continued to strum chords gently. His humming resumed and he continued on for many long minutes before it died down again and he had said, "You should return to bed now. You need your sleep."

Arwen, who had been slowly falling asleep as she listened to his beautiful music, immediately jerked awake and sat upright. He smiled slightly and said, "I can remember an elfling I once raised doing the same when he was young and did not want to stop listening to my music. In the end, I would just wait for him to fall asleep and then take him to bed. His brother was the same way. It was the same every night for years on end."

Arwen was immediately curious, "Who was the elfling? Do I know him? And who are you; I have never seen you around the valley before."

Maglor only smiled mysteriously, "Ask your father in the morning, Arwen, those questions and relate that little tale to him as well, and he will likely answer. In the meantime, would you like a gift from me to remember me by? I do not think I will be coming to the valley again anytime soon, but perhaps you can remember me by this?"

Arwen had nodded, curious about the gift and wondering what it could be. She gasped with delight and smiled at it when Maglor handed it to her, overjoyed at its beauty. It was a carving of wood out of oak, but in it was carved the entire Valley from one of the mountains that overlooked it. Every building and house was there, every field and pasture, every stream and tree. It was like Rivendell now fit into the palm of her hand and it was amazing. She had looked up into the minstrel's sad gray eyes and then surprised him with a hug that he returned after a moment's hesitation. Afterward, he had said, "Go home and go to sleep child, and when you wake up, do not forget to ask your father about that elfling. You may be in for a surprise."

Arwen disentangled herself from the strange elf's arms and went home, her gift held securely in her hands. When she had woken up the next morning the gift was there where she had left it on the table beside her bed, where it had stayed for years on end, and she had known it was not a dream. She had found her father as quickly as she could and showed him the carving while telling him the story and he had stared at it in wonder for a moment before asking her to show him where the elf had been. Arwen had taken him there quickly, and it was there that her father had told her that the elf was the same one that had raised him and his twin many years ago before Gil-galad had become his father. And it was there that Elrond had told his daughter that Maglor came to the valley sometimes, but never let anyone, not even Elrond, see him. He did not want to cause tension or be the cause of more strife amongst elves. Maeassil knew he would come there and leave clothes and food for him to have, but he still would not have contact with anyone. He did not want the curse he still believed he lived with to touch anyone else, especially after all the bloodshed because of him. Arwen had been much too young to know about the bloody slaying Maglor and Maedhros had led, and it was not until years later that she understood why none in the valley spoke about. It was still very painful for her father to speak about.

A shadow moving in the distance, beyond the bridge, caught Arwen's eye, and she looked at the shadow that did not move with the others. She did not think it was any other elf, and there were no humans currently in the valley. And none that would bother her knew where she had gone. She looked back to the House for a moment and then went deeper into the gardens, following the shadow that stayed one step ahead of her and was always out of reach. Finally, she made it to the rock where she had first met Maglor and at first, there was nothing there.

The shadow was gone, and the moon was hidden. Arwen looked around closely, starting to think that her mind was playing tricks on her. And it was only when the moon came out did she see that someone had left another carving on the rock. And only one elf knew she would know who had carved it; Arwen coming closer and staring in shock at the carving as she gently picked it up.

It was the ship of her grandfather Eärendil, Vingilot, carved in exceptional detail from a piece of white wood. Even the masts were there, small pieces of white cloth and ropes holding them to the rigging and beams. It had been polished to pure white, and it was beautifully painted. Eärendil was there too, standing tall and proud at the tiller with the Silmaril bound upon his brow. His hair was windblown and he was staring at something in the far distance that only he could see.

Arwen turned it over in her hand, and it was then that she realized that there was something unique about the carving; the words "Savo amdir" were carved into the side and she realized that not even an elf as badly damaged and destroyed as Maglor had given up hope. He had hope that things would improve and that things would change for the better, and if he could do that then so could she. She stood up, looking deeper into the gardens. She saw nothing but still nodded and smiled before making her way back towards the House, the carving in hand so that it could join the other that was still on the table beside her bed, a reminder that there was always someone out there watching out for her.

Behind her, deep in the gardens, she could just hear over the rush of the waters the sound of a harp, caring hope and light with it. Behind her, deep in the gardens, Maglor watched her go while strumming his harp, watched as his foster-son's beautiful daughter found the hope she needed that none had been able to give her.

A hope that still lived in him, he realized as he turned away and disappeared into the gardens where none wandered and none looked beyond that which they could see. It was here that he had been for the last years, waiting and watching for his foster-son to return to the valley. Only when he did so would he leave to continue his wandering again.

Until then, he would stay, until his foster-son was home and all was as it should be in the valley once more.

---

A week and a half after Galadriel, Celeborn, Arwen, and Círdan arrived, the Dúnedain came to the valley again. Only this time, they were not there to coordinate the protection of the North.

They were there for revenge.

When they arrived, Arahad was immediately escorted to the council room while his son looked after their men and horses. After being granted permission Arahad entered, taking the room in at a glance. He had never seen the Lord and the Lady before and he almost did a double-take when he saw Círdan.

Almost, but not quite.

The twins and Glorfindel were there, as well as many others that were clearly captains and lieutenants and commanders. Judging by the appearance and clothing, elven warriors and leaders from all realms were there, ready and willing.

All this passed through Arahad's mind in an instant, and then he was beckoning the other Ranger behind him into the room. This man was heavily scarred, an eye patch over one eye, and an ear was missing. Deep scars covered half his face, and the other half was weather-beaten and lined. He was also missing an arm and walked with a limp.

The twins knew him though, smiling and nodding at the veteran Ranger which he returned. Arahad only bowed before saying, "My lords, my ladies," as Galadriel and Tauriel were there, "I am Arahad, Chieftain of the Dúnedain and Captain of the Rangers of the North. I am here to offer what aid I can," his Sindarin flawless even if accented.

"And we are glad for that aid, Arahad," Elrohir said, "The Dúnedain are always welcome allies. How many have you brought, my lord?"

"I am afraid I could only spare twenty from the defense of the North," Arahad said, "And my son will be returning to our camps to lead the Rangers while I am away. But he insisted on coming to Rivendell before we left."

"Twenty Rangers, a hundred Rangers, I do not care," Elladan said with a smile, "It is always good having warriors of your skill and experience with us."

"Thank you, my lord," Arahad replied, "We are eager to help," he turned to the Ranger standing next to him, "I trust you remember Buioron, my lords?"

"Of course," Glorfindel said, "I remember Lord Elrond saying he did not think he could save you after what the orcs did. I am glad he was wrong."

"As I am, my lord," Buioron said, "I owe him my life, and am eager to repay the debt however I can."

"Buioron, once learning of what was happening, insisted on traveling south to Near Harad and listening and watching at the more unpleasant taverns and inns and towns, saying that the woman responsible for this would have to find rather unsavory people to employ and those were the best places for them," Arahad said, "And he learned several interesting things while there."

"And that would be?" Thranduil asked.

Buioron smiled, but one of the scars near his mouth pulled one side down so it was more of a grimace, "I learned much about the hunters the woman you spoke of hires," that caught everyone's interest and Buioron continued, "They are, for the most part, former soldiers of the Haradrim and Easterlings and some Corsairs. They are paid well for their skills, and healers are what they are always looking for. This "business" they run is mostly hired by lords of the Haradrim and Khand, and some Easterling chiefs as well. These men, if they are hired, sign a contract saying they have to kill themselves, by poison or by blade, if they are captured by anyone. If they do not, they are killed by professional assassins their lady employs. They are hidden in many major human cities like Minas Tirith, Osgiliath, and Aldburg. And that woman starves a warg to keep prisoners in line. And sometimes she feeds her prisoners to the warg for no reason other than that it is fun for her," he stopped for a moment to catch his breath.

"How did you learn all this? You have discovered more than Gandalf and others that have had contact with these hunters," Círdan said.

Buioron smiled again, "I look like someone they would want to hire: battle-scarred and experienced, and extremely intimidating. One of them approached me in a town in Khand with the offer and told me everything he thought would interest me in employment. The fact that I floated the idea I was looking for that kind of work likely helped as well. In the end, when I said I had no interest but many questions he tried to kill me, and did not live to regret that action, I am afraid," he shifted, revealing the left-handed sword on his waist, and the twins smiled. After he had healed from his wounds and their father had said he would be strong enough to fight again, they had trained him to fight left-handed so he could continue to fight and defend the North. Their father had helped as well, as he had been trained by Maedhros to fight left-handed in his youth.

"What else did he tell you, Buioron?" Celeborn asked.

Buioron immediately looked uncomfortable, "It is more what he did not say and then he began coding his language. He made it clear that the majority of their prisoners used to keep the hunted in line were women and girls and that their lady allowed them to...have their way with them if they so desired, whenever they desired. And he said that the she-elf they had captured was their biggest challenge yet since she was so unyielding," all there immediately became angry, understanding the implications, and Buioron continued, "He had not had a chance at her yet, but he made it clear he would when he returned. I think that infuriated me more than anything else, my lord. It was soon after that that he tried to kill me and I killed him. I was not thinking very clearly, such was my anger. And before you ask, there was nothing on his person or in his equipment or clothing that gave a clue where he was from or who he was. He did not even give me his name."

His words were met with silence for many long moments, then Galadriel said quietly but with fury in her voice that Buioron knew was not directed at him, "Is there anything else you learned about the woman? Or anything else about the hunters?"

Buioron thought a moment before saying, "He did not say much about his employer, other than she was willing to hunt her husband to death without him realizing, implying that she was incredibly intelligent. And apparently, she is someone who has the trust of the Steward of Gondor and is liked by him. As for the hunters," he paused and thought a moment, "they are disciplined and organized, and dirty fighters with no honor. They are from many different backgrounds, but the one thing they have in common that stuck with me is that they were all rejected by the societies and countries they came from. Apparently, the things they did were not tolerated by even the Haradrim or the Easterlings. Other than that, I cannot think of anything else, my lady."

"Thank you for getting this information, Buioron," Círdan said, "We are in your debt."

Buioron shook his head, "No, my lord, you are not. I owe Lord Elrond my life; because of him, I was able to return to my family and home and life. That is a debt I will be repaying every day for as long as I live, and if this is one way I can, then I will until I have no breath left in my body," he gave a rather regal bow to all there and then left.

Arahad watched him leave, then looked to the twins, "I think that is the most he has ever spoken in his entire life. He has never been one for conversation," moving to and sitting in the chair Elrohir motioned him to.

"No, he is not," Elrohir said, "But we still do not know where to go yet. Hopefully, we will have a location soon though."

"The Dúnedain are willing to wait for as long as necessary, my lord," Arahad said, "My son Aragost needs the experience of leading without me, as it is something that will happen one day, and he must be ready when that time comes. The only way he can learn is through experience and real-life situations."

Elrohir nodded, while Elladan looked tense for a moment, but then the meeting was moving on and all focus was on housing all the warriors and where they would be staying. Thranduil offered his people to help watch the borders while Celeborn and Círdan both agreed that sparring sessions would be a good idea. As Rivendell warriors were under the command of Glorfindel it was decided that all warriors would report to him for the time being to simplify things.

The meeting adjourned after that, everyone leaving for their different tasks and responsibilities. Arahad went to see his son off and the twins disappeared for a long while and only reappeared when Glorfindel was clearly looking for them. He did not want them leaving to seek revenge until they had a place to go, knowing that meaningless seeking would only drain their energy.

Neither seemed overly apologetic when Glorfindel glared at them, and it was only Arwen saying that she and Eafled had met them and talked with them for hours that made him relent and leave them be. He did agree to send them on patrol in a few months to give them a chance to get out of the valley for a time. Both twins had inwardly smiled at that, knowing only Arwen could have convinced him.

They had been asking the same for months and had been denied each time. Now they were finally getting a chance to get out of the somewhat stifling atmosphere of the valley for a while.

---

Avorneth was still fighting the men with everything she had whenever they came into her cell. The fact that other Gondorian Rangers had joined her made it slightly easier, they fought the men too.

She had learned that these Rangers had been captured just like her and that they would stay there a while until someone paid enough to hunt them. Avorneth had told them about Magron and his treachery, and they had been surprised. All but one, who said, "He was always a slippery one, and I never fully trusted him. And now I know why. Some brother I have. Worse than orcs, and now dead to me in all ways that matter."

The other Rangers had nodded in agreement, and things settled into a routine as the worst of summer came and it was unbearably hot. Even Avorneth felt a little discomforted by the heat, and the Rangers felt it worse. Even in the dank dungeons, it was hot, and there was no reprieve from that heat.

And yet, despite everything that had happened, Avorneth still had hope that she would be found. Perhaps it was because she had constantly felt someone reaching out to her through the Song, or because she still believed Lord Elrond would come back for her as he promised, but she still had hope.

And Avorneth knew that Lord Elrond always kept his promises, no matter what. She just needed to keep faith and hope alive, and things would turn out alright in the end.

---

His leg hurt, it hurt so badly it was unbearable. Urelais was miserable, in pain, hungry, thirsty, and tired. He just wanted to lie down and sleep, and then eat until he had his energy and strength back.

And he wanted his leg to stop hurting. His foreleg hurt so badly, but he knew his rider was in no condition to notice. His rider was in as bad a straits as he was and they were both suffering together. All Urelais could do was keep walking, and hope they made it home before his leg gave out. Mounted on his back, his rider was tense and awake, in too much pain and too ill to notice anything or try and sleep. In front of him, the other two riders and horses were there, keeping pace with him so that he was not left behind.

And behind them, he could sense the hunters following them. Always following and never relenting.

Urelais could only hope this would end soon, and he would be home soon, with a warm blanket and Laeron taking care of him again. The elf was so attentive and gentle, and he always knew what he needed to feel better and be well taken care of. And his favorite groom was the best, always ready with an apple and a grooming just the way he liked it.

He kept walking with those hopes in his heart, while behind him the hunters still pursued. Always following, never stopping, no matter what.

---

Autumn had come again to the valley, and there was still no word on when the warriors would leave or where they were going. Vilya was still quiet, and so Galadriel and Gandalf were resigned to doing nothing and waiting for word from Vilya.

Edhelvain knew none of this. Her focus was on Veryafion, who was standing still in the entrance of the stables, refusing to move. Her ears were forward and she was clearly listening to something intently. No amount of pulling on Edhelvain's part could get her to move, and no one was willing to get near her rear. Veryafion was back in shape and did not look as though she had just had twin foals. She was ready and fit, strong and fast.

"Come now, Veryafion," Edhelvain said as she pulled again, "You are blocking the way and your pasture is waiting."

Veryafion ignored her, listening carefully to the Song. She wanted to make sure – yes! That was it! He was nearby, her rider was close! So close she knew where to go and how far away. He was so close, and nothing was going to keep her away from him. She turned her attention to Edhelvain, and something about that look in her eye immediately had Edhelvain shaking her head, "No, Veryafion, not this time. I am not falling for that trick again."

Veryafion only snorted and whuffled her lips, before deciding there was only one thing for it. She could only hope Edhelvain did not hate her afterward. She lunged forward, moving so quickly the grooms could not react. Edhelvain's eyes widened in fear, likely thinking Veryafion was about to run her down, but Veryafion only tossed her head.

Edhelvain's hands had locked around the rope, and all she could think to do was cry out in surprise as Veryafion tossed her head; the mare was so strong and literally threw Edhelvain onto her back with just the muscles in her neck. Edhelvain immediately, instinctively, gripped her sides with her legs, and then Veryafion was galloping out of the yard, dodging right and left with the agility of a cutting horse. Once in the clear she hit her stride and sprinted out of the valley. When this happened none could catch her until she slowed.

They raced past the patrol led by the twins, with Glorfindel, Heledhon, and Belegon leading alongside them. All were shocked to see Veryafion loose, and then Idhrenor yelled, "Edhelvain!" panic in his voice. The patrol immediately raced after them.

Edhelvain could only hold tightly to the mare, Veryafion following her rider's Song to where he was; true north her rider and her on an unerring course straight to him. Not even the fallen tree across the trail at the height of her withers stopped her; leaping it with ease and continuing on. Behind her the patrol would have to go around, none of their horses brave enough to jump it.

As this was happening and as Veryafion got closer and closer, Elrond was being held to the ground again, the brand being pressed to his neck. He was so weak though, he had no strength to fight back. Not even being kicked by the woman in the stomach elicited much of a response, his body too weak and his mind slipping from lack of food and rest.

The woman was getting ready to deliver another kick when a sentry raced into camp. "My lady!" he called, "There is a rider approaching. They are making straight for us."

"Who is it?" the woman asked.

The man shifted, "An elf, I think, the horse was moving too quickly to be sure. They will be here in five minutes."

"Not enough time to get them on their way," the woman muttered, looking at Elrond, Cendar, and Tordag. The two Men were bound and gagged, but Elrond was not gagged.

The woman really wanted to hear him scream.

"Alright, get them," pointing at the three, "inside my tent and keep them down. If one of those two makes a sound, kill the elf," she kneeled down, looking the elf over and ignoring the two men as they were forced into her tent, the largest tent there. She only said, as the elf's eyes were wide and he was listening carefully and seemed aware at the moment, "One sound from you, one call for help, and I will kill the rider that is coming. And then I will kill the boy."

She stood up, and Goliath dragged Elrond into her tent, her captain going with him to gag and control the elf. Urelais, Gledswith, and the buckskin were forced out of sight deeper into the trees, and the fire was banked to help hide the hot iron amongst the branches and logs.

Edhelvain saw none of this when Veryafion charged into the camp moments later. She reared high, whinnying shrilly, and inside the tent, Elrond raised his head as much as he could against the knife to his neck and the man holding the strip of rag in his mouth. He knew that whinny.

Outside Veryafion landed from her rear, and Edhelvain looked around in fear. She had never been this far from Rivendell alone, Veryafion having run over thirty miles in one day, and she was afraid. There were men here, and they were all looking at her in surprise. She looked around frantically, not understanding why Veryafion brought her here and desperate to leave.

She pulled at the rope and squeezed her leg against the mare's side, trying to turn her. Veryafion ignored her, looking around the camp before beginning to walk deeper into it, reaching out with her Song. Edhelvain pulled back, trying to stop her, but without an actual bridle, Veryafion had no intention of listening to her.

At that moment a woman exited one of the tents, and Edhelvain looked at her. The woman was beautiful; with slightly curly, long black hair and blue eyes. Her figure was petite and she was dressed simply for the road. That she was surprised to see Edhelvain was an understatement, then her eyes were drawn to Veryafion, taking in the mare's beauty. Veryafion only glared at her, ears pinned and pawed the earth. She knew this woman was pure evil, she could feel it.

"Are you lost, my lady?" the woman asked, and Edhelvain still said nothing. She was too afraid of men, knowing her sister had been taken by Men. Even though she knew the Dúnedain were kind and so were some men of Gondor and Rohan, she did not know where these men were from and was instinctively afraid of them.

Seconds later galloping hooves could be heard and the patrol entered the clearing. The twins were in the lead closely followed by Glorfindel and the captains. Inside the tent Elrond listened closely, adrenaline giving his mind the clarity it needed. The elves looked around the clearing, taking stock of the thirty or so men and the one woman standing or sitting around several fires. At least fifteen tents were set up as well, a rather large one that was clearly the woman's set up a little ways away from the fire and partially hidden by two others.

They finished their quick survey, and then Elladan asked, "Are you well, Edhelvain?" She nodded shakily, and inside the tent, Elrond raised his head a moment, overjoyed to hear his son's voice again, before it was forced back down by the man holding the gag taut. The captain next to the man only held the knife closer to his throat, the threat clear even though Elrond could not see it. Near him Cendar and Tordag were listening as well, knives also at their throats. Elrohir was speaking now, speaking to the woman they absolutely loathed.

"Our apologies for barging into your camp, my lady," Elrohir said, "This horse is a master escape artist and we could do nothing but follow when she escaped this time. I do not understand why she stopped at your camp, though," looking at her curiously.

The woman shrugged, "Perhaps she smelled the oats we have for our horses, my lord, that might have caught her interest," Veryafion only snorted in disgust, and began trying to walk into the camp again. This time, another elf came forward and grabbed the rope tied to her halter. He spoke in Elvish to the she-elf and inside the tent, Elrond raised his head again before it thumped back onto the blanket as weakness stole over him when he heard Idhrenor speak. A little ways away from him he heard Belegon ordering his men to stay silent and watch carefully for orcs, a tear coming to his eye when he remembered Heledhon was dead.

Outside, Edhelvain climbed on behind Idhrenor while he pulled a resisting Veryafion away to begin the long journey back to Rivendell. She kicked and bucked, reared and pawed the air, unwilling to leave when her rider was so close she could smell him. Eventually, with help from others, Idhrenor was able to lead Veryafion away and back home, she fighting him every step of the way.

As this was happening Elladan turned back to the woman, "It seems we are remiss in our manners today. I am Elladan, son of Elrond Peredhil of Rivendell, and this is my brother Elrohir," Elrohir nodded politely, and Elladan beckoned to Glorfindel, "And this is Glorfindel, Seneschal of Rivendell and Commander of her forces," the golden-haired elf nodded his head as well.

"A pleasure to meet you all," the woman said with a nod of her head, "I am Arielle, formerly of Bree, but my husband and I travel so much for trading we no longer truly have a home."

"Is your husband here, my lady?" Glorfindel asked, "We know of some orcs in the area he may wish to be cautious about."

Arielle smiled sadly, "He is here, but was wounded fighting off those same orcs you just mentioned."

"That is ill news," Elrohir said, "Perhaps we can help? We are trained healers."

At that moment elven hearing heard a slight groan, somewhat muffled for some reason and Elladan said, "It sounds as though he is in pain, my lady. Perhaps we can take a look? Mayhap we can help."

Arielle replied, "I would not want to bother you, my lords, and it is only a minor wound. And we travel with a highly-skilled healer who is with my husband now. I assure you, your aid is unnecessary."

Inside the tent, Elrond closed his eyes, willing his sons to press the issue and come and open the tent and find him. Or maybe Glorfindel, who would likely slaughter all the humans there at the sight of him. The knife pressed against his throat bit in a little harder, cutting the skin slightly and Elrond opened his eyes, not that it mattered. The blackness was complete whether his eyes were open or not.

Outside Elladan was insisting as politely as he could, "You are certain you do not need our skills, my lady? We would be remiss as healers if we neglected to help someone in need of aid."

"I will check with our healer my lord," Arielle said, "and see if he needs help. If he says not, will that be satisfactory for you?" the twins nodded, and the woman walked to her tent and disappeared inside. Well aware of the keen hearing of the elves she kneeled down and asked, "The elves want to know if you need help tending the wounded?" at the same time she signed with her hands to her captain, "What happened?"

As the healer spoke about what he was doing and how he did not need help, her captain signed, "He groaned, and I could not stop it. He has been paying close attention ever since the elves came to the camp."

Looking down the woman saw her captain was right; the elf was tense and aware, the gag tight in his mouth and cutting off all sound again and his sightless eyes were wide and bright. The woman only smiled cruelly before leaning over and putting her head close to his and running a hand across his cheek that he shied away from as best as he could. She glared at her captain and signed, "I will deal with you later," before she stood and left, the elves still there and waiting patiently. The captain only watched her leave warily, wondering what she meant by that. He had not failed at any tasks she had given him recently as far as he knew.

Arielle smiled slightly, "My healer has assured me he does not need your aid, but it is appreciated all the same. We are only staying here a few days more before continuing on our way."

"Perhaps you would like to come to the Last Homely House for a few days?" Glorfindel asked, "Your wounded could recover there without fear of orcs."

"We would not want to intrude, my lord," the woman said, "And it is out of our way, I am sorry to say. It would also be too much hassle to move our camp so soon after setting up here. So, I hope you do not think me rude by declining your invitation. Perhaps another time."

"Perhaps," Glorfindel said, then Elladan said as he looked to the sky, "If there is nothing else we should be on our way. It is getting late and we will need to make sure Idhrenor and the others got Edhelvain and Veryafion home safely," he turned back to the woman and said, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Arielle of Bree, I hope we have the chance to meet again."

"And you, my lord," Arielle said, and inside the tent, Elrond's hope began to die. Lying next to him, Cendar and Tordag watched him begin to give up, while also listening closely to what was happening outside. The elves were beginning to leave when Arielle asked, "I hope you do not mind my asking, my lord, but why did that horse come here? Is it because we had grain and there were other horses here?" sounding confused.

Glorfindel answered while the twins looked at each other, "Veryafion is a rather interesting horse. She is from the Undying Lands and is incredibly intelligent and capable of understanding speech and languages and also puzzling her way through complex problems. She belonged to our Lord and is still completely devoted to him, even though he is gone from these shores," the woman looked sympathetic, while inside the tent Elrond's hope finally died, realizing his people thought him dead. He sank into the blanket beneath him, body limp with no hope, and no more sound came from him.

Outside Glorfindel continued, "Veryafion was Lord Elrond's horse for almost three Ages of this world, and has a deep understanding of the world. It is hard to fully understand, even knowing her as long as I have, what she truly knows and sees and hears from the world."

"I see," Arielle said, then asked, "I am assuming asking if it would possible to trade for her it would be impossible?" the elves immediately stiffened, and Glorfindel's eyes hardened, as was the woman's intent. She wanted these elves gone soon, and this was the best way to do it.

Arielle put her hands up in surrender, "I did not mean to upset you my lords, but I am a trader, and while I do not know much about horses, I can see she is of powerful, well-bred stock. You cannot fault me for trying."

"Apparently we can," Elladan said curtly, "We have no intention of selling or trading Veryafion. She is family, and we will not part from her until we are in the Undying Lands as well and she is reunited with our father."

"Of course, my lord, I did not mean to offend," Arielle said softly.

The twin stared at her a moment, then left after his brother and the golden-haired elf, their warriors in front of them. Once out of earshot Heledhon muttered under his breath, "The nerve of some people!" before continuing on.

The twins and Glorfindel could not agree more, and the return to Imladris was quick and without incident. When they arrived at the stables Laeron was waiting on a barrel in front of the doors, a healer binding his hand while another stitched his leg. He only said, "Veryafion," indicating the stall with two half doors that could be closed. Both were shut, and Laeron said, "She went crazy when she returned, and I do not think it is safe for unsuspecting elves if she is constantly kicking and biting," he looked at the twins, "I did not want to do this, but there was no other option that was strong enough to contain her."

"We understand, Laeron," Elrohir said, "It is for the best right now."

Perhaps by spring Veryafion would be calm, but then there was a kick on the door and everyone immediately doubted it.

Elladan only stared at the closed door in thought for a moment before going to tend his horse. Their patrol would not be leaving again anytime soon, not with winter coming and them being needed to make sure there were enough supplies to last the winter. As he was doing so Glorfindel came up to him, "Why did you press when Arielle said her healer did not need help? It was rather rude."

Elladan stared at his horse's mane for a moment before saying, "Something told me she was hiding something she did not want us to know. Something told me to investigate the camp thoroughly and not stop until every tent was searched. I do not understand what pushed me to do so, but it was there all the same. I would like to go back, and ask her some questions that she likely does not have answers to."

"Not now, Elladan," Glorfindel said firmly, "We must get ready for winter and prepare the valley."

Elladan only sighed in frustration as he continued to tend his horse before heading back to the House to get ready for dinner, determined to find a way to question the woman somehow.

---

Once the elves were out of sight of their sentries the woman had ordered the three out of her tent before they permanently stunk up the blankets and pillows. Only this time things were different and not for the better.

She immediately rounded on her captain when he came out, the last to leave the tent, "You had one simple task today, and you failed, just as you have failed at several other tasks these last couple years. I just received word, before the elves arrived, that those Rangers from South Gondor have all survived," Cendar let out a quiet sigh of relief when he heard that, "And your assassins failed to kill the wizard! The only thing you did right was killing his sister!" jerking her head at Tordag, who looked as though he had been punched in the stomach and was about to cry," And that she-elf is still not broken! I may have to feed her to that warg anyways!"

The captain wisely said nothing, as did the rest of the hunters, none of them wanting her deadly attention focused on them. The woman narrowed her eyes, "I am demoting you. Your failures are unacceptable, and this business relies on there being no mistakes," the now-former captain nodded, seemingly glad the punishment was not worse, and the woman's eyes narrowed even more. Faster than a snake she lashed out, a knife suddenly in her hands. The former captain's hands immediately went to his throat, a rasping gurgling sound coming from his mouth as blood flowed from his cut neck as he tried in vain to stop the bleeding and breath. He fell to his knees and then collapsed limply to the ground, his life leaving him with his last, gurgling breathe.

Tordag stared in shock, unable to believe what he had just seen and what had just happened, having never seen anyone murdered before, while Cendar was too busy trying to keep the elf upright. It was clear he wanted to lie down and take the pressure off his legs and ankles.

The woman noticed none of this, staring dispassionately at the dead human before looking at her lieutenant. She only said, "You are my captain now. Get rid of this," nudging the body. He nodded quickly, and immediately the body was carried away to be left far away for the orcs after taking his weapons as prizes. As that was happening the woman looked at the elf for a moment before grabbing his chin and forcing his head up. She smiled then slapped him, saying, "We both know you are about to die, and I think it will be a very easy fight for me when it does finally happen. But I think you can go a little farther still. But first..." she trailed off and nodded at her new captain when he returned.

He immediately grabbed the elf and dragged him to a tree with a low hanging branch just as another man threw a rope over the branch. Elrond's hands were released, only to be chained in front of him and tied to the rope. He was hauled to his feet by his hands, blood flowing from his wrists as the manacles were pulled where the skin had almost completely grown over them. He only groaned again, unable to bend over to relieve the pain in his stomach and chest, his face flushed with fever under the sweat and grime.

The woman had walked over with him, Tordag and Cendar being dragged over to watch. Once the men were finished and the elf was suspended by his wrists the woman tore the gag from his mouth and said, "I think it is time for you to be punished for your little infraction of the rules earlier today. You nearly gave us away after all, and it was only luck that your sons and friend bought that little lie of mine. It is a shame that they think you dead, but now you have no reason to try and return home. And this little punishment will make up for all the time's elves have caused wrong and in particular you. Perhaps for the next hunt we do with elves we will use your sons, it would be interesting to see how long they last," Elrond gave no reaction, the pain in his body too intense, and the woman continued, "If you scream the pain stops," she said ominously, and then she was stepping away as a man came forward with the brand once more. The rest of the hunters had gathered in a loose circle around the tree to watch, a few holding torches to light the area. They all enjoyed this kind of thing and always looked forward to it. Cendar and Tordag only watched in disgust, until Tordag had to look away. Cendar did not, knowing he owed the elf that much at least.

The man did not brand Elrond on the neck again. He just pulled what remained of his shirt and tunic off and pressed the brand to his back, then his legs through his trousers and then the left side of his stomach. Elrond tried to get away but Goliath held him in place, forcing him to stay still. He only groaned; a dry, raspy sound that Cendar could not begin to understand. It was a sound of complete agony, just not of the body. It was agony of the heart, and it came from knowing that his people believed him dead and there was nothing he could do to change that.

That was not enough for the woman, unfortunately, as she sighed and shook her head, turning to and nodding at another man as the first stepped back along with Goliath. This man held a whip, which he unfurled with skill before pulling back and snapping the whip across Elrond's shoulders, leaving a wide welt. He did it again...and again...and again...not stopping until Elrond's back was a bloody mess crisscrossed with open, deep lash marks, making sure to hit the brands several times.

Elrond still did not make a sound, and the woman finally had the man stop, knowing that there was nothing else that could happen to make him scream then, and well aware that he needed to stay conscious to obey the rules of the hunt. She walked over to the hanging elf and pulled his head up by his heavily matted hair. It was starting to smell from all the mud and dirt and sweat and blood caked into it, and it was greasy with oil from his head, but she did not care. She only said, "One day...you will scream, and then I will kill you," dropping his head, where it rested against his chest until he was cut down. He landed in a heap, yelping slightly as he landed on his stomach and chest.

Cendar came and pulled his shirt and tunic back on while Elrond lay still, trying to control the pain in his back. Urelais, Gledswith, and his gelding had been returned by then, and he saw that all three had fresh lash marks. That woman must have had them beaten as well, Cendar realized angrily before helping Elrond onto the stallion. Elrond only leaned forward and said nothing, as usual, trying to control his pain.

Cendar mounted slowly, feeling the weakness in his body more than usual, and waited for Tordag, who moved dazedly. He had been like this ever since he had been told so callously his sister was dead, and Cendar did not fault him for that. It would be a long time if it ever happened until he got over the shock.

Behind them the hunters packed camp, leaving no trace before following their prey north once more, not realizing that their prey was about to give them the slip.

Ahead of them, in Rivendell, a young elf looked to the stars from his balcony, knowing there was something that woman had been hiding but unable to figure out what it was. And the guards outside his living area door and below the balcony meant he would not be able to leave to seek her out and ask her more questions.

At least, not yet, the elf decided determinedly, unwilling to back down in his belief.

Above him, Eärendil winked a bit, seemingly coming alive with hope once more as his son made his way home.

---

Translations:

hir nín – my lord
Aran – king
Adar/ada – Father/daddy
ion nín – my son
Mae govannen, gwathel – Well met, sister
Hannon lle, hir nín – Thank you, my lord
Daeradar/daerada – Grandfather/grandpa
Daernaneth – Grandmother/grandma
penneth – little one
Naneth/nana – Mother/mama
Savo amdir – Have hope