Uh, wow. What reviews! You people are amazing. This is the best response
I've had to any story I've done! Thank you so much for encouraging me.
Really, I mean it! But for you, each and every one, this story might not
have gotten this far. There's only one chapter left after this one, so we
are nearing the end. Hope you all are enjoying the ride!
Cheers, Kellen
Stolen
Chapter Seven
Elrohir rounded a bend in the trail he'd been following. He had his bow in hand. Just a few minutes ago, the uneasiness he was feeling had intensified so greatly that the elf was a little jumpy. He looked around, hoping to find some sign of Elladan. The older twin, however, chose not to make his presence known. Elrohir gave up the search, knowing that if Elladan were close by, he would have found him by now. Elrohir shook his head, suddenly regreting not taking his father's implied suggestion they bring people with them while they hunted for Rabryn. Instead, Elladan and Elrohir, after the older twin put forth his token argument and the younger had rebuffed it, went out alone. "I am such an idiot," Elrohir muttered softly.
Soft rustling sounds reached him, and Elrohir went into the trees. Crouching close to the trunk with an arrow notched, he watched carefully. He smiled, relieved, when he could make out who was coming toward him. He held back a chuckle when he saw Aragorn try to trip Legolas. Legolas retaliated by cuffing him upside the head. Even as he did so, though, the prince of Mirkwood looked up and quirked an eyebrow in Elrohir's direction.
Elrohir smiled. The prince, at least, knew he was here. Elrohir waited until the pair came closer and then quickly dropped out of the trees behind Aragorn.
And almost had his head cleaved from his shoulders. Aragorn turned quickly, sword already coming out of its sheath. Elrohir ducked. Aragorn stopped, mid swing, looking mildly chagrined. Legolas was trying to hide any sign of mirth. Elrohir glanced at him, then swung his gaze back to Aragorn.
"Little brother," he said slowly, "the point of that was what?"
Aragorn shrugged. "You should know better than to sneak up on me."
"Sneak? I?" Elrohir turned to Legolas. "Did I sneak?"
"I knew you were there."
"There. You see?" Elrohir told Aragorn. "He knew I was there."
Aragorn turned an irritated gaze on his friend. "You did, did you?"
Legolas shrugged. Elrohir took advantage of the lull to change subject. "You've been in trouble again, I see." He motioned to the bruise on Legolas' cheek. "Or did my little brother decide he'd had quite enough of you?"
Legolas rolled his eyes. "I want to keep moving," he told Aragorn.
"We were going back to Rivendell," Aragorn told Elrohir. "We've got a bit of information that Ada would probably like to know."
"If it's the slavers, he knows. Elladan and I found Rabryn's mother and took her back with us." Elrohir paused. "She was in a bit of a sorry state, but she seems to be recovering nicely. If she'd sleep, that is."
"So where are you going?"
"Fiwen lost Rabryn. We think he might have followed the two of you, or tried to, anyway. Elladan and I came out looking for him."
"Just you and Elladan?" Aragorn's voice was laced with concern. "Where's Elladan?"
"I think we can handle ourselves, Estel," Elrohir said, neatly covering up the fact he had not a clue where Elladan was. "There weren't many, according to Enalaen." Seeing Aragorn's look of confusion, he clarified. "Rabryn's mother. Her name is Enalaen."
"You don't understand, Elrohir. The man in charge wants elves." Aragorn looked to Legolas, hoping the elf would help him out here. He turned back to Elrohir. "He's convinced that an elf would bring in enough money to keep his little company afloat. More so that any man he could get."
"I thought that made sense," Legolas said, winking at Elrohir.
"Makes sense to me. Any elf is worth more than a man."
"You are not helping," Aragorn said slowly.
Elrohir smiled, then continued along his original thought. "Elladan and I came out to track Rabryn. You've seen nothing?"
"Not of Rabryn," Legolas said wryly. "Have you any luck?"
"I'm following something," Elrohir replied. "Though it could be just the heavy footed man you travel with, Legolas."
Aragorn snorted. "We'll come with you."
They had made some progress, what with three experienced trackers looking for a trail left by one who had no experience in covering his tracks. Soon they were very sure they were close. There was, however, a problem.
They were also far too close for comfort, in their opinion, to a group of men. Some, when they caught fleeting glimpses of them, were recognized as ones that Legolas and Aragorn had downed in their last encounter. Aragorn and Elrohir kept on the trail left by Rabryn while Legolas scouted for the men. The prince of Mirkwood would blend into the trees, going ahead and to the right, keeping the band of men within sight.
Legolas suddenly appeared in front of Elrohir. "Move to the left. They are shifting direction and will cross the trail you are following approximately one hundred yards ahead." Elrohir turned to relay the information to Aragorn, but Legolas caught his arm. "Not too far left, though. There is another group."
"You want us to go between the two groups?" Aragorn whispered. "Without being caught?"
"Of course without being caught." Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Lead us," he told Legolas. "We'll catch the trail on the other side."
Legolas nodded and melted back into the trees, Elrohir and Aragorn following. They jogged through the brush, leaving almost no trace of their passing and effortlessly skirting obstacles. Still, it wasn't fast enough. Legolas stopped them and pointed up. With a nod, Elrohir sprang into the nearest tree. Aragorn followed Legolas to a big oak. He looked at it wearily. It looked like the same tree they'd spent part of night in with Rabryn. Sighing, he climbed into the branches after Legolas just before the first man came into view.
Legolas glanced at the man, a slightly amused smirk in place. 'Cut it close enough, Ranger?' he thought to himself. He scanned the lines of men, his eyes suddenly lighting on something he'd hoped not to see. He caught Aragorn's attention and nodded toward the back of the group passing under them.
"Rabryn," the man whispered so low that even Legolas barely heard him.
The boy was bound and trussed, carried like a sack across the back of a horse. The horse was plodding along behind an overloaded wagon. Jamyn rode in the wagon, apparently talking to the child. Though Aragorn couldn't hear a word said, it was obvious by the look on Legolas' face that the elf heard every word.
"It's too bad we couldn't get more on this last run," Jamyn was saying. "Sold everything else. Thought we could get a quick profit by catching a few more. I haven't had this much trouble with my cargo since...well, I have never had this much trouble. Your whole family was nothing but trouble," he told Rabryn. "All trouble. Should've sold you and your mother when we got rid of your father. No. Decided to take you and her to a town where I know I'd get more from you."
Legolas narrowed his eyes as he watched Rabryn's response. By now, the wagon was almost directly underneath the tree he and Aragorn hid in.
"My father should have skewered you," the child said.
Legolas hid a small smile. The child may not have been imaginative, but he certainly got his point across. He looked at Aragorn, who, despite the situation, shook his head while an amused look crossed his face.
Legolas had a plan. He was going to wait until all the men passed and come down behind them. With Aragorn and Elrohir's help, they would have had no trouble freeing Rabryn. It was simple.
It quickly became complicated.
Rabryn's answer had incensed Jamyn. The man leaped up and cuffed the boy's head. Rabryn cried out. Legolas moved ever so slightly, silently protesting the boy's treatment. He saw Elrohir, across the way, do the same. Aragorn, though, when he moved, managed to make enough noise to attract Jamyn's attention. Legolas cast a glance at the man. Aragorn shrugged, mentally apologizing and chastising himself even as he drew his sword.
Jamyn was shouting for his men as he drew his own weapon. "In the trees! Check them all!"
Aragorn and Legolas quickly split. Aragorn went to his right, deftly jumping into the branches of another tree, hoping against hope that it would hold his weight. Legolas went left, running full tilt along the branch as arrows were shot into the branches. Appparently, the men's way of checking was just to shoot randomly and quickly into every tree within range.
Elrohir, however, took a more direct approach. Deciding he really didn't have the inclination to dodge unaimed arrows, he easily dropped out of the tree, firing a shot even on his way down. The arrow found its mark, lodging deep in the throat of one of the archers. Before the first dead man fell, another arrow went deep into the chest of another man. The dark haired elf, having gained a bit of a respite, looked around for his companions.
Aragorn had come down out of the tree. Judging by the disheveled look he now sported, Elrohir would have guessed he not come down willingly. He watched his foster brother for a moment, even as he let loose another arrow, and decided the Ranger was not in immediate trouble. Elrohir whirled, trying to find another target. He watched one of Legolas' arrows take down another archer half-hidden in the brush.
The prince of Mirkwood was still amoung the branches. Elrohir shouted a warning to him. One of the archers had tracked the elf's arrow and aiming almost unerringly for Legolas' position. Elrohir quickly brought his bow to bear, but a green fletched arrow downed the man before Elrohir could do much at all. Elrohir turned and found Legolas standing near the trunk of the tree, directly below his former position. Legolas nodded toward the dark-haired elf, silently thanking him for the warning.
Elrohir sidestepped, deftly avoiding an arrow. He looked up, bow drawn, only to find a single man staring at him. Oh, there were other men around, but none paid that much attention to the dark-haired archer. The one standing in front of him, however, grinned at the elf. Elrohir quirked an eyebrow, a bit taken back by the man's attitude.
"Watch out for him, Elrohir," Legolas called. The prince was still firing, making his way toward Aragorn. "Burly can be a problem," he continued quickly.
"Burly?" Elrohir repeated, looking over the man. Burly looked like an ox ready to charge. Elrohir fully expected him to start stamping the ground. With no small amount of amusement, Elrohir decided to see what Burly could do that was such a problem.
As a result Elrohir found himself on the receiving end of Burly's charge. Even the elf himself was quite willing to admit, at least to himself, that what happened was simply because of Elrohir's own arrogance.
Elrohir moved quickly enough to avoid the charge. It was the slope that threw him off. Or, more accurately, threw him down. With a small cry of surprise, Elrohir's foot slipped. Because of his own momentum, he slid backward, tumbling rather gracelessly down the embankment. Even as he fell, though, Elrohir noted with some satisfaction that Burly was having problems of his own.
Elrohir may have gone down the hill, but at least he still had some semblence of control. The elf had managed, for the most part, to stay somewhat upright, only falling completely when he came to the bottom. Burly had dove for Elrohir at the last second and, when Elrohir moved, found himself diving down the slope head first.
They landed nearly on top of each other, Burly's weight taking Elrohir's breath away. The elf rolled, ready to fight, only to find that Burly was already unconscious. Elrohir, still struggling mightily for breath, rolled to his knees, eying the man warily. "Problem, huh, Legolas?" he muttered. Working his jaw, where he'd taken a hard hit from a tree root as he landed, Elrohir glanced up the steep slope. Pulling leaves and twigs out of his hair, he said, "I don't see a problem. That wasn't problematic. Really." Looking around for his bow, Elrohir continued muttering. "You might have warned me, oh mighty Prince of Mirkwood. I'd love to know just what sort of problems you had with him. All I had to do was roll him down a hill. Puts him out like blowing out a candle."
Elrohir's monologue was stopped short by a sudden warning. His senses screamed, and he only had time to fall back to the ground. Rolling onto his stomach and looking up, he groaned. "Or maybe not," he muttered. "I see you found my bow," he told Burly as the elf got to his knees. The man was kneeling and already had another arrow notched and aimed unerringly at Elrohir's chest. "I would like it back now."
"Nah, I like this one," the man replied. "If you want, you can have mine." He gestured to what seemed at first look a small pile of broken wood.
Elrohir eyed it for a second, then quirked an eyebrow at Burly. "I'd rather have my own, thank you."
"Two people, one bow," Burly said, giving the words a melodramatic flourish. Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Not good." And he fired.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jamyn stalked through his small band of men that seemed to get smaller and smaller as the minutes wore on. With a frustrated sigh, he noted that most were still alive. Their attackers were showing mercy. Jamyn hated mercy. Mercy always made things more difficult. Give me a clean kill any time over a hard fought battle just to knock my opponent down, he thought as he parried a stray blow from one of his own men. In a fit of anger, Jamyn thrust the sword behind him, killing the man without a backward glance. His target was in front of him, and he didn't want to be slowed.
Aragorn spun, feeling the stare upon him. Jamyn stood there, a sword drawn. With a feral cry, Jamyn charged Aragorn, swinging his sword with all the strength that rage can give.
Aragorn parried quickly, forced back a few steps under the onslaught, but not really worried yet. Jamyn may have been strong, and good with the weapon, but Aragorn had all the tutelage of his brothers and strength of his heritage with him. Jamyn couldn't take the future king down unless something drastic happened.
Aragorn was just gaining the upper hand when the drastic did happen. He had brought his sword to bear, spinning around behind Jamyn, exposing his back for only a second to the man. His step faltered and his sword lowered at the sight before him. In a moment of startled concern for his brother, he stopped and called Elrohir's name as he watched the elf fall.
Jamyn found the moment to strike, and he didn't waste it.
tbc...Evil, huh?
Stolen
Chapter Seven
Elrohir rounded a bend in the trail he'd been following. He had his bow in hand. Just a few minutes ago, the uneasiness he was feeling had intensified so greatly that the elf was a little jumpy. He looked around, hoping to find some sign of Elladan. The older twin, however, chose not to make his presence known. Elrohir gave up the search, knowing that if Elladan were close by, he would have found him by now. Elrohir shook his head, suddenly regreting not taking his father's implied suggestion they bring people with them while they hunted for Rabryn. Instead, Elladan and Elrohir, after the older twin put forth his token argument and the younger had rebuffed it, went out alone. "I am such an idiot," Elrohir muttered softly.
Soft rustling sounds reached him, and Elrohir went into the trees. Crouching close to the trunk with an arrow notched, he watched carefully. He smiled, relieved, when he could make out who was coming toward him. He held back a chuckle when he saw Aragorn try to trip Legolas. Legolas retaliated by cuffing him upside the head. Even as he did so, though, the prince of Mirkwood looked up and quirked an eyebrow in Elrohir's direction.
Elrohir smiled. The prince, at least, knew he was here. Elrohir waited until the pair came closer and then quickly dropped out of the trees behind Aragorn.
And almost had his head cleaved from his shoulders. Aragorn turned quickly, sword already coming out of its sheath. Elrohir ducked. Aragorn stopped, mid swing, looking mildly chagrined. Legolas was trying to hide any sign of mirth. Elrohir glanced at him, then swung his gaze back to Aragorn.
"Little brother," he said slowly, "the point of that was what?"
Aragorn shrugged. "You should know better than to sneak up on me."
"Sneak? I?" Elrohir turned to Legolas. "Did I sneak?"
"I knew you were there."
"There. You see?" Elrohir told Aragorn. "He knew I was there."
Aragorn turned an irritated gaze on his friend. "You did, did you?"
Legolas shrugged. Elrohir took advantage of the lull to change subject. "You've been in trouble again, I see." He motioned to the bruise on Legolas' cheek. "Or did my little brother decide he'd had quite enough of you?"
Legolas rolled his eyes. "I want to keep moving," he told Aragorn.
"We were going back to Rivendell," Aragorn told Elrohir. "We've got a bit of information that Ada would probably like to know."
"If it's the slavers, he knows. Elladan and I found Rabryn's mother and took her back with us." Elrohir paused. "She was in a bit of a sorry state, but she seems to be recovering nicely. If she'd sleep, that is."
"So where are you going?"
"Fiwen lost Rabryn. We think he might have followed the two of you, or tried to, anyway. Elladan and I came out looking for him."
"Just you and Elladan?" Aragorn's voice was laced with concern. "Where's Elladan?"
"I think we can handle ourselves, Estel," Elrohir said, neatly covering up the fact he had not a clue where Elladan was. "There weren't many, according to Enalaen." Seeing Aragorn's look of confusion, he clarified. "Rabryn's mother. Her name is Enalaen."
"You don't understand, Elrohir. The man in charge wants elves." Aragorn looked to Legolas, hoping the elf would help him out here. He turned back to Elrohir. "He's convinced that an elf would bring in enough money to keep his little company afloat. More so that any man he could get."
"I thought that made sense," Legolas said, winking at Elrohir.
"Makes sense to me. Any elf is worth more than a man."
"You are not helping," Aragorn said slowly.
Elrohir smiled, then continued along his original thought. "Elladan and I came out to track Rabryn. You've seen nothing?"
"Not of Rabryn," Legolas said wryly. "Have you any luck?"
"I'm following something," Elrohir replied. "Though it could be just the heavy footed man you travel with, Legolas."
Aragorn snorted. "We'll come with you."
They had made some progress, what with three experienced trackers looking for a trail left by one who had no experience in covering his tracks. Soon they were very sure they were close. There was, however, a problem.
They were also far too close for comfort, in their opinion, to a group of men. Some, when they caught fleeting glimpses of them, were recognized as ones that Legolas and Aragorn had downed in their last encounter. Aragorn and Elrohir kept on the trail left by Rabryn while Legolas scouted for the men. The prince of Mirkwood would blend into the trees, going ahead and to the right, keeping the band of men within sight.
Legolas suddenly appeared in front of Elrohir. "Move to the left. They are shifting direction and will cross the trail you are following approximately one hundred yards ahead." Elrohir turned to relay the information to Aragorn, but Legolas caught his arm. "Not too far left, though. There is another group."
"You want us to go between the two groups?" Aragorn whispered. "Without being caught?"
"Of course without being caught." Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Lead us," he told Legolas. "We'll catch the trail on the other side."
Legolas nodded and melted back into the trees, Elrohir and Aragorn following. They jogged through the brush, leaving almost no trace of their passing and effortlessly skirting obstacles. Still, it wasn't fast enough. Legolas stopped them and pointed up. With a nod, Elrohir sprang into the nearest tree. Aragorn followed Legolas to a big oak. He looked at it wearily. It looked like the same tree they'd spent part of night in with Rabryn. Sighing, he climbed into the branches after Legolas just before the first man came into view.
Legolas glanced at the man, a slightly amused smirk in place. 'Cut it close enough, Ranger?' he thought to himself. He scanned the lines of men, his eyes suddenly lighting on something he'd hoped not to see. He caught Aragorn's attention and nodded toward the back of the group passing under them.
"Rabryn," the man whispered so low that even Legolas barely heard him.
The boy was bound and trussed, carried like a sack across the back of a horse. The horse was plodding along behind an overloaded wagon. Jamyn rode in the wagon, apparently talking to the child. Though Aragorn couldn't hear a word said, it was obvious by the look on Legolas' face that the elf heard every word.
"It's too bad we couldn't get more on this last run," Jamyn was saying. "Sold everything else. Thought we could get a quick profit by catching a few more. I haven't had this much trouble with my cargo since...well, I have never had this much trouble. Your whole family was nothing but trouble," he told Rabryn. "All trouble. Should've sold you and your mother when we got rid of your father. No. Decided to take you and her to a town where I know I'd get more from you."
Legolas narrowed his eyes as he watched Rabryn's response. By now, the wagon was almost directly underneath the tree he and Aragorn hid in.
"My father should have skewered you," the child said.
Legolas hid a small smile. The child may not have been imaginative, but he certainly got his point across. He looked at Aragorn, who, despite the situation, shook his head while an amused look crossed his face.
Legolas had a plan. He was going to wait until all the men passed and come down behind them. With Aragorn and Elrohir's help, they would have had no trouble freeing Rabryn. It was simple.
It quickly became complicated.
Rabryn's answer had incensed Jamyn. The man leaped up and cuffed the boy's head. Rabryn cried out. Legolas moved ever so slightly, silently protesting the boy's treatment. He saw Elrohir, across the way, do the same. Aragorn, though, when he moved, managed to make enough noise to attract Jamyn's attention. Legolas cast a glance at the man. Aragorn shrugged, mentally apologizing and chastising himself even as he drew his sword.
Jamyn was shouting for his men as he drew his own weapon. "In the trees! Check them all!"
Aragorn and Legolas quickly split. Aragorn went to his right, deftly jumping into the branches of another tree, hoping against hope that it would hold his weight. Legolas went left, running full tilt along the branch as arrows were shot into the branches. Appparently, the men's way of checking was just to shoot randomly and quickly into every tree within range.
Elrohir, however, took a more direct approach. Deciding he really didn't have the inclination to dodge unaimed arrows, he easily dropped out of the tree, firing a shot even on his way down. The arrow found its mark, lodging deep in the throat of one of the archers. Before the first dead man fell, another arrow went deep into the chest of another man. The dark haired elf, having gained a bit of a respite, looked around for his companions.
Aragorn had come down out of the tree. Judging by the disheveled look he now sported, Elrohir would have guessed he not come down willingly. He watched his foster brother for a moment, even as he let loose another arrow, and decided the Ranger was not in immediate trouble. Elrohir whirled, trying to find another target. He watched one of Legolas' arrows take down another archer half-hidden in the brush.
The prince of Mirkwood was still amoung the branches. Elrohir shouted a warning to him. One of the archers had tracked the elf's arrow and aiming almost unerringly for Legolas' position. Elrohir quickly brought his bow to bear, but a green fletched arrow downed the man before Elrohir could do much at all. Elrohir turned and found Legolas standing near the trunk of the tree, directly below his former position. Legolas nodded toward the dark-haired elf, silently thanking him for the warning.
Elrohir sidestepped, deftly avoiding an arrow. He looked up, bow drawn, only to find a single man staring at him. Oh, there were other men around, but none paid that much attention to the dark-haired archer. The one standing in front of him, however, grinned at the elf. Elrohir quirked an eyebrow, a bit taken back by the man's attitude.
"Watch out for him, Elrohir," Legolas called. The prince was still firing, making his way toward Aragorn. "Burly can be a problem," he continued quickly.
"Burly?" Elrohir repeated, looking over the man. Burly looked like an ox ready to charge. Elrohir fully expected him to start stamping the ground. With no small amount of amusement, Elrohir decided to see what Burly could do that was such a problem.
As a result Elrohir found himself on the receiving end of Burly's charge. Even the elf himself was quite willing to admit, at least to himself, that what happened was simply because of Elrohir's own arrogance.
Elrohir moved quickly enough to avoid the charge. It was the slope that threw him off. Or, more accurately, threw him down. With a small cry of surprise, Elrohir's foot slipped. Because of his own momentum, he slid backward, tumbling rather gracelessly down the embankment. Even as he fell, though, Elrohir noted with some satisfaction that Burly was having problems of his own.
Elrohir may have gone down the hill, but at least he still had some semblence of control. The elf had managed, for the most part, to stay somewhat upright, only falling completely when he came to the bottom. Burly had dove for Elrohir at the last second and, when Elrohir moved, found himself diving down the slope head first.
They landed nearly on top of each other, Burly's weight taking Elrohir's breath away. The elf rolled, ready to fight, only to find that Burly was already unconscious. Elrohir, still struggling mightily for breath, rolled to his knees, eying the man warily. "Problem, huh, Legolas?" he muttered. Working his jaw, where he'd taken a hard hit from a tree root as he landed, Elrohir glanced up the steep slope. Pulling leaves and twigs out of his hair, he said, "I don't see a problem. That wasn't problematic. Really." Looking around for his bow, Elrohir continued muttering. "You might have warned me, oh mighty Prince of Mirkwood. I'd love to know just what sort of problems you had with him. All I had to do was roll him down a hill. Puts him out like blowing out a candle."
Elrohir's monologue was stopped short by a sudden warning. His senses screamed, and he only had time to fall back to the ground. Rolling onto his stomach and looking up, he groaned. "Or maybe not," he muttered. "I see you found my bow," he told Burly as the elf got to his knees. The man was kneeling and already had another arrow notched and aimed unerringly at Elrohir's chest. "I would like it back now."
"Nah, I like this one," the man replied. "If you want, you can have mine." He gestured to what seemed at first look a small pile of broken wood.
Elrohir eyed it for a second, then quirked an eyebrow at Burly. "I'd rather have my own, thank you."
"Two people, one bow," Burly said, giving the words a melodramatic flourish. Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Not good." And he fired.
~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Jamyn stalked through his small band of men that seemed to get smaller and smaller as the minutes wore on. With a frustrated sigh, he noted that most were still alive. Their attackers were showing mercy. Jamyn hated mercy. Mercy always made things more difficult. Give me a clean kill any time over a hard fought battle just to knock my opponent down, he thought as he parried a stray blow from one of his own men. In a fit of anger, Jamyn thrust the sword behind him, killing the man without a backward glance. His target was in front of him, and he didn't want to be slowed.
Aragorn spun, feeling the stare upon him. Jamyn stood there, a sword drawn. With a feral cry, Jamyn charged Aragorn, swinging his sword with all the strength that rage can give.
Aragorn parried quickly, forced back a few steps under the onslaught, but not really worried yet. Jamyn may have been strong, and good with the weapon, but Aragorn had all the tutelage of his brothers and strength of his heritage with him. Jamyn couldn't take the future king down unless something drastic happened.
Aragorn was just gaining the upper hand when the drastic did happen. He had brought his sword to bear, spinning around behind Jamyn, exposing his back for only a second to the man. His step faltered and his sword lowered at the sight before him. In a moment of startled concern for his brother, he stopped and called Elrohir's name as he watched the elf fall.
Jamyn found the moment to strike, and he didn't waste it.
tbc...Evil, huh?