"Going out again?" Glorfindel called as Raven gathered several empty leather bags. He watched her from where he sat, still insatiably curious about her mask.

"Yes," came her ever terse reply.

"You know," he spoke conversationally, trying to ease whatever amount of tension that he could. "These ropes make my arms and legs awfully sore. Don't you trust me?"

"No."

"What have I done to earn your distrust?"

She paused at the doorway, pulling the hood of her cloak over her head. She cut an elegant and mysterious figure, a dark grey cloak with black tendrils of hair peeking out from behind a mask, a shift from beneath the cloak hinted at the powerful wings concealed by fabric, and those bright eyes shining by the fire light. Oh the questions he had about her.

"I have my reasons," she replied before slinking out.

Thus, Glorfindel was left alone, only the girl's strange wolf for company. Although elves are lovers of nature, they have never been known to hold a particular fondness for wolves, or even dogs for that manner. Glorfindel remembered ruefully how fond little Estel was of dogs, how he loved their high energy and boundless enthusiasm. When he was just a child, maybe ten years of age, he brought a stray dog home to Imaldris and caused quite the stir. When Erestor explained to him that elves generally did not keep dogs as pets, the young Dúnedain claimed that such was because elves were so much like cats. Glorfindel still found himself chuckling whenever he recalled the expression that Erestor, the ever sever counselor and Tudor had made upon that declaration.

Glorfindel was however beginning to believe the child's statement as he watched the way Raven's wolf glared at him. The creature seemed to be projecting aggression with its eyes. Never did it seem more suspicious than when Raven neared Glorfindel. The wolf acted as if he would launch himself forward to attack the girl at any moment. Such a protective creature.

Glorfindel was always careful to keep one eye on the wolf whenever the two were alone, but otherwise there was little to do. The fire in the hearth burned low, but enough sunlight filtered through cracks in the ceiling to keep the place fairly well lit. Despite this, Glorfindel feel incredibly claustrophobic. Elves need nature like they need air, and the cave was stifling. He had not seen the stars since his last night camping with his troops. He hadn't dared to ask Raven if he knew what became of them for she was obviously not fond of elves. Knowing that there was likely an elvish army looking for him was probably not the best thing.

As he though of the elves in his guard, he couldn't help but long for his home of Imaldris. The hidden valley had indeed become a home to him and he longed for the comfort of its halls once more. He was indeed nearly ready to go. His side had healed over enough so that movement was no longer a threat to pull his stitches, just the only problem was the moving itself. He was still rather weak and would likely not get very far if he were to try to walk home. Perhaps he could use his last several days of recovery to gain Raven's trust. He knew that Elrond would welcome the strange girl if she would only accompany him to Imaldris. She seemed so lonely with only a wolf for company.

Suddenly, the wolf's head shot up, ears twitching wildly.

Glorfindel strained his own ears and heard very faintly, the sound of a long, high pitched whistle.

Instantly, the wolf was on its feet as it shot out the exit of the cave, not even glancing in Glorfindel's direction. Try as he might, Glodrinfel could not hear what called the wolf's attention for the whistle had come from a good distance away. As time stretched he began to grow agitated. Was that Raven who called her? Why? Is she in trouble?

His mind ran through every worse possible scenario on what could be happening to the girl. Despite her being his rescuer, Glorfindel felt a strange sort of protectiveness over her. She seemed so young, so broken. Something that hurt her deeply and he knew was great pain felt like, the kind that refused to pass no matter how hard you tried to forget. Raven reminded him so much of Elenya, the strange being who saved him, that he knew that the two must be related. Everything about her was a mystery to him, but she was surly a dependent of Elenya and thus he was bound to protect her as Elenya did him.

Splash.

There was a clamoring at the second entrance to the cave, the one where Raven always went to refill the water skins. Glorfindel found his heartbeat racing and his hands itching to grab a sword. Raven and her wolf very rarely entered from that direction, and when they did they dove in and out of the water silently. They never splashed like that.

Swish. Splash. Whoosh.

He could hear sloshing, like someone unfamiliar with the route thrashing through the small waterfall and down the stream, walking directly towards him. Again, Glorfindel tugged silently at his bonds, cursing the strength of elvish rope and wondering once more why Raven trusted him so little. Spread out at he was, arms, legs, and throat bound, he was utterly helpless.

The movement paused and for a slight, shimmering moment of hope, Glorfindel thought that maybe the water had deterred whoever it was enough, maybe they would leave.

Thump. Thump.

It seemed that Eru had deemed himself generous enough though and the sound started again, whoever it was was almost upon the cave. The sloshing water turned to hard footsteps and Glorfindel knew that no elvish boot made such noise. Whoever it was was certainly a man, and one of larger statue at that.

A slight rustling, and the curtain hung over the secondary cave entrance opened to reveal a man who Glorfindel instantly knew boded poorly for him.

The man was the sort one sees in a tavern along the roadside, and instantly steers away from. He had wild eyes, rough skin, and an unkempt beard. His bulging muscles were clearly visible through his rusted mail armor and he held aloft a large broadsword of far too high a quality for him to have purchased.

"Well well well," a smile that sent shivers down Glorfindel's back split the man's face in two. "What do we have here?" The man began to approach and Glorfindel set his jaw tightly, still tugging slightly at his bonds. "An elf trussed up in a cave? Ooooh, and such a pretty one at that."

The man lowered his sword so the tip brushed Glorfindel's throat. The elf paused.

"What business have you here?" he laced every bit of practice he had in commanding troops into his voice, authority booming through the cavern. The man simply continued to grin. He was obviously one who had never bent to authority in his life.

"I think a better question is what am I to do with you," as he spoke he crouched down and saw the way Glorfindel's bonds kept him restrained in place. Deeming the elven warrior secured enough, he placed a large, heavy hand on Glorfindel's chest. His fingers splayed out possessively as his hand climbed its way up to stroke along Glorfindel's neck, admiring the knots in the rope. Glorfindel inhaled sharply, a spike of terror running through his body, causing his heart to pump blood rapidly through his veins. He had heard tales of vile men, had even witnessed the aftermath of a young maiden on a roadside years ago. Never had he imagined it could occur to him. "You see, my boys and me only meant to investigate the rather large bonfire we spotted a few nights back and I thought I'd go for a little dip in the stream. And what do I find behind it? A lovely blond elf, all trussed up and prettier than any of the whores I've seen in all my years of roving."

"Please step away from the elf," a voice, Raven's voice suddenly echoed through the cave causing the man to turn sharply and Glorfindel to exhale a sigh of relief. The relief was short lived however as he quickly noticed that she had left her twin blades behind that morning, only taking her bow and a quiver which he now saw sat empty. Her blades however, were situated on the opposite side of the cave, directly behind where the man crouched over Glorfindel.

"Aaahhh, so you must be the owner of this fine specimen. From one tradesman to another, I would like to congratulate you," he performed a large, sweeping bow. "I must say that I admire your skill for so few have ever managed to capture and contain an elf."

"He is not my slave and I will ask you only once, leave this place and do not return." Her voice was impassive and she stood, unarmed and unafraid.

"You've got quite the nerve little lass. I'll admit, I like it. And because I like you, I'll offer you a deal," his smile was predatory and his hand once again strayed to Glorfindel's chest, touching the skin where his loose tunic had come undone. "You give me your elf and these little ropes that seem to hold him, and I won't touch you or your home. Sound fair?"

"No. You've used your one warning."

The man laughed heartily, though it was not a pleasant sound. Once he seized his merriment, his grip on his sword tightened and he advanced slowly on Raven, blade gleaming in the firelight. Without warning, he lunged forward and made to cleave Raven's head from her shoulders. The young maiden however was nimble and easily dodged the blade. He roared in rage and swung again, once again hitting only empty air. At this motion, Glorfindel could clearly see that the man was of the sort used to utilizing brute strength and not much else in combat. He was unused to an opponent so nimble.

For a time the battle continued in such a manner. The man would swing his great sword and Raven would duck just in the nick of time. He was no fool however and thus carefully kept Raven from ever reaching the other side of the room where she could grab her blades.

Then, in a move that shocked both the man and Glorfindel, Raven lept forward, straight at his sword before using her wings to push herself just slightly upwards, grasping his shoulders and launching herself onto his back. Then, Glorfindel saw the slightest shimmer in her hand and a slight hiss from the man before she lept off him. There she stood, chest heaving as she caught her breath, but otherwise she did not move.

"That's the best you've got missy," he spat, a hand wiping along the back of his neck to find the slightest trace of blood. "Whatdya do? Scratch me?" He chuckled at his own joke before his face suddenly stilled. His knees buckled from beneath him and his sword clattered to the floor, falling from his limp grasp. Before Glorfindel could properly process what he was witnessing, the man collapsed face first into a heap on the ground.

"Poison," was all Raven said as she tucked away a small, black dagger. "I should assist Nightshade," was all she said to Glorfindel before pulling her blade from their sheaths and rushing out the way she came in.

Glorfindel remained frozen in mild shock for several more moments, mind processing what he witnessed. Never in all his years had he witnessed a poison so fact acting. Even the venom of Mirkwood's spiders took time to set in.

Soon enough, Raven returned, blades already washed clean in the stream. Her wolf followed shortly behind and Glorfindel couldn't help but noticed that the creature's jaws were stained red. Raven pointed wordlessly as the man's body and the wolf instantly grabbed him by his shoulder as if he were the carcass of a deer, and pulled him from the cave.

"It appears I owe you my life once more," Glorfindel spoke gently. "Although, I would have been happy to assist you in dispatching that man if only I were to be unbound."

She stared at him unblinkingly for several moments, eyes roving up and down his body as if she were appraising him. She then turned and mumbled something about retrieving her arrows before leaving Glorfindel to his thoughts once more.

Evelyn's heart was hammering in her chest as she stormed her way out of the cave. She went back to the site where the battle had taken place, where a band of bandits and slavers were poking around the charred remains of the orcs that elven soldiers had burned several nights before. As she pulled arrow after arrow from the carcasses of the men, her mind churned.

This is getting far too out of hand.

Ever since she chose to intervene and save Glorfindel's life, the elf had brought nothing but trouble. First the pack of orcs which she had to fight off to save him, then a small army of elves searching for him, and now a group of bandits kicking about to investigate the elves. All this was occurring far too close to her home. The elvish army in question was also not too far of still. They gave up on the site where the fight took place and had moved off, wandering further from her home, but still far too close to be considered safe.

At that though, Evelyn realized that she had not seen the elves in a while. She sent Nightshade to return to their home and keep an eye on the elf while she took to the skys. She decided that she would make several light altitude loops so that she had a better chance of spotting where the search party chose to gather. As of the night before, they were traveling further and further from her home. Evelyn dearly hoped that they would stick to that pattern.

In truth, Glorfindel was almost ready to travel. His wound had healed enough so that jostling would not tear the stitching and Evelyn no longer feared fever or his internal organs rupturing once more. However, he was still incredibly weak. It was unlikely that he would be able to walk far, and even more unlikely that he would be able to carry enough supplies to get back to Imaldris. And there was no way she was walking up to the doors of the elvish city.

Evelyn eventually spotted the elves in the distance. Just as she hoped, they were indeed still traveling away from her home. Relatively satisfied, she turned and did one final sweep in the opposite direction, checking just to be sure that they did not split up. Right as she was considering turning back home, she noticed a small campfire ahead, flying silently towards it she spotted two elves sitting quietly by the glowing embers. The elves were of dark hair and perfectly identical. Elladan and Elrohir, a silent voice in her mind supplied, for who else but the sons of Elrond would be wandering the wild in search of Glorfindel? She knew on instinct that it was Glorfindel that they sought out.

She carefully did a few calculation in her mind, noticing that if they were to continue on their path, they would soon hit Evelyn's home. She could not stand the thought of another invasion. Then, an idea stuck Evelyn, if Glorfindel was not ready to travel alone, then why not have him travel with the twins. If only Evelyn could arrange for the two elves to "find him," the Glorfindel could return home and Evelyn could go back to her normal life.

When she arrived back at her cave, she set her plan into motion. Acting as if nothing were out of the ordinary, she made dinner and brewed tea for the more silent than usual Glorfindel. In the tea however she did add the sleeping herb that she used to use on the elf. The dosage was much smaller and thus far harder for him to detect in his exhausted state. The elf downed the tea without a though and very soon was in a deep slumber.

Once Evelyn was certain that he was asleep, she set about packing for the journey. She could not help but notice that one of the elves in the pair was injured. Glorfindel's wounds were still rather severe and travel with him would be slow. With only one fully able bodied elf, the long trek to Imaldris would be tedious and dangerous. Evelyn deemed it necessary that she follow the party in the shadows, at least until they were safely within the lands controlled by the Ring Bearer.

It wouldn't do to waste so much time in healing him only to have him die on the journey home, she reasoned silently.

Once she was fully packed, she approached the sleeping elf. Even though she knew that he was deep in slumber, her hands shook as she reached forward for the knots. Taking a deep breath, she undid her greatest form of protection against the elf, the only thing that she knew could keep him from attacking her the second he awoke. She trembled slightly as first his hands, then his legs, then his neck were freed. She watched him sleep for several seconds, knowing that if he were to wake, he would be able to kill her, capture her where she stood.

Shaking her head to dispel the thoughts, she pulled Glorfindel's limp form over Nightshade's back and the pair took off. Walking slowly to avoid jostling Glorfindel's still fragile wounds, the pair made slow progress but eventually, just as the dawn broke, came to spot that Evelyn deemed far enough away from her hope for Glorfindel to be found. She slid the elf off the wolf's back and laid him out gently in the grass. She then kindled a small fire, but added several handfuls of pine and a few fir cones that she had soaked in water. The combined wood released a long and slow column of smoke which would surly capture the attention of the two elves who she knew would not be far away.

She and Nightshade quickly drew back until they were far enough away that they knew they could not be spotted. Evelyn knew that she would be able to easily track the trio in flight, and Nightshade was always good follow. Now she just had to wait.

"A rather large smoke stack, don't you think brother?" Elladan asked, pointing to the sky on the horizon. Elrohir, who had his eyes glued to the ground as he searched for clues looked up to where his brother pointed.

"Strange indeed... shall we check?"

Elladan nodded and the pair remounted their horses and made for an easy lope in the direction of the smoke. It had been several days since they set forth from Imaldris and they knew that by now their father would be home and furious with his sons for their disobedience. They didn't quite care however as they knew that he would be too caught up in dealing with the latest guests to worry too much about his wayward sons. They approximated about six or seven more days before they had to be worried about a search party being sent for them.

"A camp up ahead," Elladan called, already drawing forth his sword. Elrohir drew his bow and knocked an arrow for one can never be too cautious.

As the pair approached however, all caution was thrown to the wind when they spotted a familiar head of golden hair.

"Glorfindel," Elrohir called in delight, racing forward and leaping from his beloved mare before she even had the chance to stop. Elladan was soon behind him as Elrohir carefully lifted the blond's head, quickly checking for a pulse and exhaling in relief upon finding one.

Elrohir then set about conducting a full examination while Elladan stood and swept his eyes across the surroundings, searching for any sign of the ones who placed their unconscious friend near the fire.

Elrohir's hands were light but firm as she checked the ancient elf from breaks or bends his his bones. Finding none his hands strayed to the elf's stomach were he found the carefully bandaged gash, clean and in the process of healing. From the looks of it however, it was clear that the wound had been deep. A quick prod of his magic indicated to Elrohir that it was originally even deeper than he first imagined, leading him to wonder her Glorfindel even still breathed. His examination then strayed to the warrior's wrists where he noticed the unmistakable marks of ropes. He found the same on his ankles and throat.

"Mellon-nin," he heard his brother speak from behind him. "What happened to you?"

"We'll have to ask him when he awakens. I do not wish to move him now," Elrohir hid his emotions behind the healer's mask he learned from his father.

"Was he a captive?" Elladan continued to prod.

"A well cared for one if so," Elrohir mused, silently admiring the bandaging whilst also sharing his brother's concern. Glorfindel had been gone for far too long for his story to be a normal one. Something very strange had happened to their mentor.