Disclaimer: I hold no claim on the characters of the Lord of the Ring, except those I have created.

A horse gallopped hard beneath the trees. The Elven warrior it bore was weary of the road, pressing his charge against him gently, so as not to hurt her. Her tear filled eyes were fixed on his face. He murmured quiet words of reassurance and set her on the saddle in front of him. She gripped the mane of the hair like a seasonned rider. The horse felt alive underneath her, much more powerful than the horses she had been allowed before.
'Of course, she would be.' He thought as he looked at the little princess. Her dark hair was all but hidden by the cloak she wore but strands of it had escaped and were whipping in the wind. All Eryn Lasgalen was fond of their princess, a sweet, thoughtful child who never caused her father grief, since the passing of her mother into the West.
Menelthir wondered how such a graceful child could have sprung from Thranduil, a king so hardened by the cares of Middle Earth and Greenwood. Of course, there was no accounting for the good influence of her mother, a lady of great beauty and gentleness.
But there was no time for that. Alas, the Orc were behind them. He had heard their cries as he escaped the confines of Eryn Lasgalen in the night. Trackers would be on their heals and there was no time to rest or dwell on the road.

Lights caught his eyes and he was wrenched from his reverie by the sight. In the distance, the lights of Imladris shone bright, a welcome sight after the long dark of the road. Soon, he would enjoy food and rest. Soon, his princess would be safe from harm in the care of the Lord of Imladris. He spurred the horse harder. Safety was at hand.

In front of him, Elwen was having quite different thoughts as she stared into the darkness encompassing her. Papa and Legolas were far far away. Just like Mama who had gone. She tried to hold back the tears, remembering the talks of her ladies in waiting.
"A lady such as yourself should never cry. You were born for the cares of this world. And crying will make your skin wane like those of the Atani..."
Those voices were so far away now, like the smile of Legolas. Elwen bit her lip, but the tears started to fall. Her big brother was not with her, despite all the promises he had made over the years to watch over her.
He had promised to show her how to shoot a bow and hunt and do grown up things like dance at the feasts of Papa, at which she had not yet been admitted.
"I promise you I'll always be by your side, Elwen. That's what big brothers are for..."
Her hand fell on the small mithril leaf against her cloak. It felt cool to her tear heated skin. 'Of course, he's always with me when I wear that.' she thought and clung harder to the horse's mane.

Suddenly, cries rang out in the dark, inhuman howls uttered from dark throats and a rain of steel and wood came down upon them. Menelthir pulled out his swords as Orcs swarmed around. He spurred the horse towards Imladris, throwing it into a gallop towards the Last Homely House West of the Sea. The darkened path was now alive with the foul breed, pawing and throwing anything they had to slow them down. The Elf kept his eyes on the target he wanted to reach. The gates of Imladris.
His cloak flew behind him in the wind as he urged his horse to ride faster. Cursing, he sped under the trees as fast as his mount could carry them.
"Noro lim! Noro lim!" He cried. For a moment, the orcs fell back but that was not to last. More of them were coming every minute and Menelthir knew that they would not reach the gates in time. He headed for the river that ran, knowing that Orcs feared the clear and pure waters as much as the sun. An arrow pierced through his armour and embedded itself deeply in his arm.

Elwen was aware of the danger from the shouts and the desperation in Menelthir's voice as he urged the horse on. Suddenly his sharp cry of pain sounded behind her. He started to sag slightly in the saddle. She clung to the horse's mane and lay flat against it, all the while praying to be saved.
"O Elbereth, Elbereth, save me..."
Menelthir was flug off the horse and Elwen's shout could not make the horse slow down to return to his fallen master. The warrior had given the horse his last command, bear his charge to safety as fast as possible. Elwen turned, only to see the Captain of the Guards stand on shaking legs, raising his sword towards the moon in defiance. A swarm of orcs overtook him.
The little girl was now crying as the horse galloped, still followed by a team of hunting orcs. Faster and faster, the tree went past her until at last the horse reached the river that ran into Imladris and around it. He prepared to spring into the waters, seeking safety in the protection of the Elves, but to no avail.

An Orc arrow took him in the leg and his step faltered. The wounded horse fell to his knees, propelling the small girl into the swift waters. Elwen's hand clutched at the saddle but found only purchase on the bow of Menelthir. Her cries were drowned in the water as she and the bow were swept away.