Thanks everyone who reviewed. There will be one more chapter after this one- it's evil to keep you waiting during the time I'm gone, so I started writing like crazy. I will have the last chapter posted before I leave. I hope you all like what has become of it…

Disclaimer: I don't own them, just wish that I did… sigh. They belong to the wonderful professor named J.R.R Tolkien…

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Chapter 9

Elladan, Elrohir and Glorfindel had prepared themselves, strapping their bows to their backs and wearing either swords or knives at their belts, while discussing things on the hunt. They had walked towards the stables, saddling their horses and meeting the other warriors; all prepared for battle and grim faced.

Looking at the elves, Elrohir recognized some as friends of Estel. A smile formed on his lips as he remembered the trouble Estel had had to endure before he had finally gained the trust and respect of some of them. While not everyone was happy with a human in their midst, they were civil. Yet the ranger had become friends with some of the others. Handil was one of them and together with Legolas the young human had had quite some adventures- much to the chagrin of their fathers sometimes. They were trouble magnets, those three.

"You all know why you have been summoned." A voice said. Elrohir looked up and saw Glorfindel speaking to the party. "A band of orcs was spotted some distance away and we believe it to be the one that attacked Strider. You know what to do when we get there. Have no mercy for them, for they will not show you any. Be swift!" With that, the blonde elf mounted Asfaloth, the others following his example and soon they were off…

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It was several hours later when Glorfindel halted the party. He held up his hand and tilted his head- listening. He signed some orders to the rest, indicating for them to ambush the beasts. Before they took their positions, he indicated by pouting his lips that when a whistle was heard, they were to attack.

Asfaloth silently reared his head when everyone was in position, seeming anxious by the nearing of the orcs. Elladan and Elrohir were restless, readying their bows- trusting their horses not to let them fall.

Soon, the band of orcs was spotted by the keen eyes of the elves. They held still, keeping to the cover of the woods. When the band was near enough, Glorfindel released a whistle.

More than a dozen arrows flew in only the first few seconds, hitting their targets dead on. Taken by surprise, the other orcs took some time to figure out they were under attack and started charging at the sources of the arrows- wielding their scimitars in the air while others let loose arrows of their own.

Glorfindel aimed his own arrows at the beasts, when all of a sudden a black feathered arrow flew only inches past his face followed by another that touched his hair. Startled, he fell of his horse and scrambled to his feet, drawing his elven knives and preparing for hand to hand battle.

Elladan and Elrohir, seeing their friend down, whispered to their horses before jumping down and joining the hand combat. The horses started running towards the orcs and reared; hitting some orcs with their front legs and sometimes kicking with their hind legs.

The other warriors remained hidden as long as they could, firing arrows and each time hitting their targets. There were so many orcs, but swiftly their number was decreasing. When the orcs came too near, the elves dismounted and entered the fray on the ground.

The battle went on for some time, the elves more skilled and remaining uninjured- here and there a scratch or a bruise, but nothing serious.

Glorfindel had just struck down one of the few remaining orcs and turned his head to see how the others were doing. He saw Elladan holding off three orcs, rage showing through on his face. First Celebrian, now Estel… He has every right to be angry. Seeing that the older of the twins could handle himself, he focussed on the younger one. Elrohir was fighting one big ugly looking orc, but then, I have yet to see one that looks not foul, if it was even possible, the dark haired elf showed even more anger than his brother as he listened to the taunts of the orc. Glorfindel frowned- he would lose if he couldn't get his anger under control.

The blonde elf ducked as another orc came at him with his scimitar, rolling over the ground and coming up behind the orc- striking him in his back with his sword. He then hurried to Elrohir, focussing on the taunts of the orc when he came near.

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"O yes, nice elfy. Zuka will take good care of you. I will make you scream with pleasure and pain. 'Twould be so much fun in so little time!" 

Elrohir parried one of Zuka's thrusts with his twin blades. "I will make you scream with pain!" He hissed between his teeth.

Zuka stepped back as he dodged Elrohir's knives. "Brings back memories of only a few days ago." He smirked as he quickly took the time to stroke a piece of fabric with blood on it.

Elrohir's eyes fell on the piece of fabric, examining the designs on it and the kind of fabric before his eyes widened in recognition- it was from Aragorn's shirt. He lashed out again, hitting Zuka's scimitar and immediately trying another strike.

Zuka's eyes showed glee in them as he saw the recognition in his eyes. "What business did an elf have with a man? Obviously he meant something to you, or you wouldn't be this angry. Was he a good friend perhaps? Did he give you the same pleasure as he did me? Are you sad that he won't give you this pleasure anymore?"

"Speak no more, you foul creature!" Elrohir shouted, not intending to tell him that Aragorn was still alive.

"He enjoyed it, you know. Screamed he did- with pleasure and pain. I made him forget all about the fact he was dying. He was stubborn, you know; refused to speak to us. Even when we ~ played ~ with him. I even thought he might not be able to speak, but eventually he started screaming. Put up quite a fight he did… Perhaps I will have to visit what's left of his body when I'm finished with you, I wouldn't mind taking pleasure from him again."

Elrohir was readying to strike again, when all of a sudden, the orc's eyes grew large. Its mouth fell open, blood trickling down the sides as he looked to his chest- a sword was sticking through it.

Glorfindel pulled back his sword and cleaned it on the shirt of the fallen orc. He looked Elrohir in the eyes, but the elf was not looking at him. Instead, he bent near the orc and tugged the piece of fabric free. His hand closed tightly upon it as he stood up.

He looked around, noticing that the others had taken care of the last orcs. They were dead.

"This gives me no satisfaction." He said to Glorfindel. "No matter how many Elladan and I slaughter, it will never be enough for what they did to Amme… and Estel."

Glorfindel gripped Elrohir's shoulder and gave it a gentle squeeze. "I know, little one. Estel will recover and your mother's at peace now, you must keep faith in that. Perhaps one day you will see her again."

"And perhaps not." He said as he handed Glorfindel the piece of fabric. Then he went to the others who were preparing to go back.

Glorfindel looked down at what he held, recognition dawning in his eyes. A Elbereth…

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TBC