AUTOR'S NOTE: I really should be doing novel study, but I'm having a writer's block.... I'm supposed to write a letter to a character in any story and say what I like and what I don't like about their personality. I've chosen to do Aragorn but I can't think of anything to say. All I know is that the last line is going to say: PS~ and for Valar's sake, take a shower.

~*Place standard disclaimer here*~

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Haldir was losing and losing badly.

Most of his men had been either captured of brutally murdered, thrown to the sidelines to watch with empty eyes as more of their comrades joined their fate. And to think it wasn't even the end. He ordered his men to surround the king, only to have one of his opponent's knight's slaughter his queen. He tried to manipulate his knight in a defensive position, only to have him brought down a second later. Haldir gave a defeated cry as they brought down his king. He had lost.

"Checkmate."

"How about the best two out of three?" the elf offered.

"That wouldn't do you much better, brother," the other elf said, beginning to clear off the pieces from the chessboard, "we've played three games and you've lost all of them. Admit defeat."

Haldir raised both hands and surrendered, "I am beaten, oh great Orophin, spare my worthless life."

"Worthless is right," Rumil answered, he was the youngest of the three brothers, although he hated to admit it. Haldir managed to turn around and cuff him on the head.

"I've admitted defeat, what more do you want?"

"I truly don't understand, why did Lady Galadriel appoint you to be March warden if you can't even win a battle of wooden warriors?" Orophin asked, thrusting his queen into Haldir's face.

"I am used to my warriors being able to think for themselves and not wait for the opponent's attack," Haldir scoffed.

"So, it is safe to say that you do nothing and let your warriors fend for themselves?" Rumil asked. "Or is it-"

"Hush, my brother, Galadriel speaks." Haldir said, motioning with his hand for his brother to remain silent. He cocked his head, listening to an invisible voice. After a few hesitant moments, he composed himself and got up to leave, beckoning his brothers to come. "Come, to Cerin Amroth, the Lady wants us in her presence."

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*

"Do you know why I have called for you?" the soft, tender yet firm and wise voice of the Lady of Lorien spoke.

"No, I do not, M'lady," the mach warden bowed.

"Were or are you aware that six elves have gone missing over the past week?" Celeborn asked.

"No, I had thought that they had perished in battle," Haldir answered, "the Orcs have become overly confident and are wandering closer to Lorien's borders more frequently."

"No bodies were found after the latest scrimmage," Celeborn offered.

"The Orcs have not attacked this week," Orophin said, coming beside his eldest brother, "you would have been informed if they had."

"That is what worries me," Galadriel whispered.

"Has the Mirror said naught?" Rumil asked.

"Its visions are blurred, clouded, unwilling to show me what the elves' fates are," she answered. "That is why I have called upon you. The mirror shows me Fentra Duen (A/N: Gosh I'm bad at made up names) I trust you're all familiar with the place?"

"Yes, the town is just less than a day's trip from Lorien," Haldir answered, "although its inhabitants are quite aloof to outsiders, especially one of our kindred."

"I have faith in the three of you," the Lady continued, "so I entrust you to solve this mystery, since one of the elves that are missing is my own daughter, Celebrain. I give you my blessing, you depart at dawn."

"Yes, M'lady," Haldir responded, bowed and left.

***

Haldir's face was a grim mask. Why hadn't he noticed the disapearances before? Surely no one could have gotten out or in the border without his knowledge. "Brother, do not let confusion cloud your mind," Orophin said, placing a slender hand on his older brother's shoulder. Haldir smiled wearily.

"Thank you Orophin," he said, cuffing his younger brother hard on the back, making the elf lurch forwards. "Where is Rumil?" he asked, Orophin shrugged his shoulders. He called his brother's name. Once. Twice. No answer. A small zing of panic shot through him, with the latest news, he did not feel as secure anymore; even in his own home.

"Rumil? Rumil!" Haldir shouted.
But there was no answer, Rumil was gone.

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AUTHOR'S NOTE: The next chapter will be longer, I promise!

I'm not fully sure whither Orophin is older or younger than Rumil, but in my story, he's older. All I know is that Haldir is the eldest.

I think.

Many people say I have the mind of a cave troll, Orc or Uruk-Hai.

I truly don't blame them. I'm not what you would call "elf like". 4 ft 10 at twelve years old. Most of my friends are 5 ft 7. The only thing that makes my somewhat "elf like" is the way I talk (strangely formal at all times), walk (No one can hear me, other than the sound of my noisy pants, until I put my hands on their shoulders and scream BOO.) and write (always writing Elvish Ss instead of English ones.)