"Something is happening up ahead," said Aradan quietly, holding up a hand
for the Mirkwood Elves to stop. "Can you hear the twigs snapping, rustling
leaves and heavy breathing?"
"Of course we can," snapped Thranduil, nudging his horse forwards and shoving roughly past Aradan. "You are not the only Elf here."
Gandalf sighed in exasperation, and quickly followed the King through the trees. What they saw was definitely not what they expected...Two men, a Dwarf and four Hobbits were sitting on the ground, expressions of shock and disbelief on their faces.
"Aragorn!" cried Gandalf.
The Ranger slowly glanced up, and he shook his head once, before looking back down to the ground. All the Mirkwood Elves took in his dishevelled appearance, and the faded colour of his skin.
"Where is Legolas?" asked Thranduil quietly.
"He is not with us," replied Aragorn distantly. "He is...he is still with Calaen."
Thranduil's face paled and he shook his head slowly. "Then we must go to him at once. I cannot let my son suffer any longer. When did you leave him?"
"Your Highness, the Fellowship being free can only mean one thing," said Aradan gently. "Calaen would never have released them if Legolas had not agreed to help him. I know this."
"And so do you," said Gandalf, reaching across from his horse, and putting a hand on Thranduil's shoulder.
"Are you saying that I should forget about Legolas, return home, and wait patiently for him to come and kill me?" demanded the Elven-king. "Mithrandir, you said yourself that if he went to Calaen's side, it would be through no fault of his own. I know that there is no evil in my son, and I know that he can be saved. I will do this with or without your help."
At that, Thranduil's white mare snorted and reared up on her hind legs, as if to add some drama. Then her hooves came crashing back down to the ground, and she bounded away through the trees, a horse with a mane of gold following right behind.
"They will not be alone," said Aragorn quietly. "I do not know about the rest of you, but I have faith in Legolas, and I will not leave him either. Boromir? Gimli? What about you two?"
"I wouldn't leave any being at the hands of that Calaen character, so I see no reason why I should leave the Elf," said Gimli, pushing himself off the ground with his axe.
"Ah, you got your weapons back," said Aradan in interest.
"Yes, but the soldiers were generous enough to carry them for us until they dropped us off here this morning," said Boromir bitterly, also getting to his feet. "We have been starved and we are weakened, but we shall do our best."
Gandalf smiled in satisfaction, and glanced down at the Hobbits. All of them were pale and drawn, with black rings under their eyes. The lack of food had taken its toll on all four of them, for their clothes were literally hanging off their bodies.
"Hide in those bushes over there," said the Wizard gently. "You are going to see nothing more of pain and fear today. We will come back for you when the battle is over."
"Mister Gandalf, sir, they...the Ring..." said Sam in a low voice. "They took it."
"Worry not, for it shall be reclaimed," said Gandalf. Then tightening his grip around his staff, he turned to the Elves. "I trust there is no need to give orders?"
Around twenty of the soldiers had already leapt into the trees, and were running nimbly along the branches, whilst others were holding some of the spare horses still, for Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli to climb up onto.
"No, I think that I would be much better down on the ground, thank you all the same," said Gimli, nodding curtly at the Elves.
"You will hold us up," said Aragorn.
Gimli planted his feet firmly apart, and stubbornly shook his head. "Was that a slight against Dwarves, Aragorn? Might I inform you that we travel a lot easier on our own feet, than others'?"
"That may be so, but if you refuse to mount the horse, then I have no choice but to leave you with the Hobbits," said Gandalf sternly. "It is up to you, my dear Gimli."
Though he made a noise of disgust, the Dwarf allowed himself to be helped by a group of Elves, onto the horse's back. He caught hold of the mane tightly, and when they set off, almost tumbled backwards. He closed his eyes though, hoping that the animal would prove trustworthy.
.............................................................................................................
"Fire!"
"Volley!"
"Keep to the ground!"
Orders and battle cries were being shouted by Elves from both sides of the town. They had been fighting for only five minutes, but each had lost soldiers. Rivendell's casualties were greater though, for their opponents were armed with spears, and the deadly weapons were very effective.
Elladan and Elrohir were still in the middle of the clearing, both on their feet now. They were doing an admirable job of diving to the side or dropping to the ground to avoid spears; firing their own arrows at Calaen's soldiers; and using their knives to block any oncoming arrows, and send them back to the enemy.
"How much longer can you do this for?" gasped Elladan, firing an arrow in the direction of an Elf who had cut away from the pack.
Elrohir clamped his knife between his teeth, and jumped back a step, reaching behind him for an arrow. His face paled though, as he met thin air: his quiver was empty. The only defence he had now, were his knives, his reflexes and his instinct.
"Valar," muttered Elrohir, "protect my brother."
"We must get back to our side," said Elrohir desperately, pretending not to have heard the comment. "This is getting ridiculous: we cannot keep on dodging weapons, and jumping around like fools."
"We have no choice," retorted Elladan, skilfully deflecting an arrow that had been aimed his way. There were many more to come though, and the number of enemies didn't seem to change. It was as though, for every one that was killed, another two appeared.
Elrohir flung his now useless bow down to the ground, and pulled out his other knife. He twirled the two blades in his fingers, spinning swiftly, and making sure he did not even blink, in case he missed an oncoming arrow.
"Leave your positions!" Elladan suddenly yelled to their patrol. "Just charge!"
The Rivendell soldiers leapt upon their horses, and rode forwards, all the while letting arrows fly. Many of the horses were shot by Calaen's army, and some fell, crushing their riders beneath them. But others pressed on, their fierce loyalty and devotion keeping them going.
"Why didn't we just order them to charge in the first place?" asked Elrohir as he and his twin drew back behind their soldiers.
"Not a clue. Look, Calaen's lot are multiplying. I don't know how, but they are," said Elladan swiftly. "As you can see, our numbers are growing thin, and I fear we are fighting a losing battle."
Elrohir watched in despair as the two Elven armies fought closely. "If I can get into the forest and back to where the other patrols are, waiting, then we might stand a chance. Try and remain hidden, Elladan."
"I can end all this," said the other Elf angrily. "I know it is me who they want."
"Just remember our promise," said Elrohir sharply. "And remember that we both agreed to hold to it."
"Go," said Elladan spinning his brother around and pushing him forwards. "Be careful: there could be of them out in the trees."
As Elrohir slipped into the woods, the other twin pulled out his last arrow, and let it fly over the heads of his soldiers. He was rewarded with a yell of rage, but was also filled with a feeling of dread. How many were there?
"It does not matter how much I love you, 'Ro, I still think you are a fool," muttered Elladan, unstrapping his quiver and letting it fall to the ground, along with his bow. "If you think I am going to watch others being slaughtered because of me, you are much mistaken."
With that, he pushed through the Rivendell archers, straight into where the close combat action was taking place. He hacked and slashed with his knives, but so did the opposition. They hade been taught well, and their aims hit truly.
"Scum," growled Elladan, anger rising in his heart as one of his friends fell.
Suddenly, realization seemed to dawn, for Calaen's soldiers swept over to the dark haired Elf, all at the same time. In the process of spinning his knives, Elladan managed to cut someone across the chest, but it was not long before he was pushed down to the ground.
"You have me, now let the others go," hissed Elladan.
One of the soldiers pinned their prisoner's arms above his head, and another held a knife to his throat. The Rivendell army pulled up sharply at the sight of Elladan being held down on the ground, and some of them shifted restlessly, unsure of what to do now.
"Drop your weapons," said one of the soldiers dangerously. "Drop them now, or this one dies."
The Rivendell Elves immediately let their various bows and arrows fall to the ground, despite the noise of protest made by Elladan. Tolvanir, the Elf who had previously assaulted Legolas, watched coolly as his men formed a circle around their opponents, arrows notched.
"Let them go," said Elladan through gritted teeth.
"Silence!" snapped Tolvanir, kicking the other Elf. "You will be taken to Prince Calaen. They will die."
Elladan made a low growling noise, and tried to jerk upwards, away from his captors. Tolvanir hissed, and flicked a blade from his fingers. It fell down to the ground, faster than lightning, too fast, in fact, for Elladan to realise what was happening. It embedded itself in his right shoulder.
"Ai Elbereth!" cried the dark haired Elf, slamming his head back on the ground.
"I trust you will keep still now," smirked Tolvanir. His expression turned malicious then, as he turned to his soldiers, and said, "Kill them."
Elladan cursed as he heard bowstrings being drawn taut, and low laughs issued from Calaen's army. He could feel blood flowering on the front of his tunic, but as he rested his head back, he realised with a thrill, that he could hear hoof beats through the ground.
"What are you waiting for?" Tolvanir demanded of the army, as he pulled Elladan up by the hair. "Shoot them!"
"Sir, I come from Imladris originally, and I know many of these Elves," said a young soldier nervously, slowly lowering his bow. "Sir, many of these were my friends a time ago."
"And what point are you trying to make?" asked Tolvanir dangerously.
"I...sir, I cannot shoot Elves that I grew up with," stammered the soldier.
Tolvanir smiled nastily as the younger Elf was also forced into the circle with the Rivendell army. "You will die with them, then. Anyone else who cannot summon up the courage to fire an arrow can join him. Anyone else as foolish as he, can-
"It was not foolishness that stayed his hand!" came a sudden powerful voice from across the town.
Elladan looked up, and his hope was restored as he saw King Thranduil riding through the trees, with a host of eighty Elves behind him. There was also Gandalf, Boromir and Gimli. Elladan's heart nearly stopped when he saw Aragorn, weary and bruised, but very much alive.
"Release them," ordered Thranduil, "and we will not fight. If you refuse, then you go to your deaths. It is your choice."
Tolvanir growled as he took in the numbers of warriors they would be up against. His own were running out of arrows, and had no spears left, yet these Mirkwood Elves had full quivers, and hearts filled with anger.
"As you wish," he said eventually, though he dragged Elladan back a few feet. "Take that lot and leave. This one is staying here."
"Not if we have anything to do with it," came another voice from the other side of the clearing, opposite Thranduil's army.
Elrohir was standing on a tree branch, just above the patrols he had gone to fetch. Forty of Rivendell's finest warriors were now before them, sat upon steeds of gold, grey and black. Glinting were their eyes, their faces filled with intense fury.
Tolvanir cursed and looked wildly around him, heart sinking as he realised how many newcomers there were: over one hundred. Making a noise of anger, he swiftly placed his knife back to Elladan's throat. "I will allow every single one of you to leave unharmed," he said, "but Prince Calaen ordered us to capture the son of Lord Elrond."
"Yes, we will leave. But you can tell Prince Calaen that he has the wrong son of Lord Elrond," spat Elrohir. "I am the one you are looking for; I am the one who has the visions. But if you wish us to go, we will."
"Wait!" cried Tolvanir. He tangled his hand in Elladan's hair, and jerked his head up. "Tell me what your name is, and speak quickly."
Elladan looked across at the branch where his brother stood, and swallowed nervously. He understood though, what was wanted of him, and he closed his eyes when he said, "I am Elrohir. You have the wrong twin."
Tolvanir hissed, and pulling his knife away, he threw Elladan down to the ground. Then, turning to his soldiers, he gestured for them to break the circle. "Leave them and go after the one in the tree. Kill anyone who gets in the way."
Caught up in both his fury of what had just happened, and the fear of what Calaen would say and do if he found about this, Tolvanir seemed to have taken leave of his senses. There was no physical way that his army could beat the other two.
"Do not shoot to kill," ordered Elrohir, watching as Thranduil gave the same commands to his soldiers. "Kill only if necessary. All we want to do is weaken them...for the moment."
"Tangado haid!" shouted Thranduil suddenly, his horse rearing up on her hind legs.
"I may as well have stayed with the Hobbits," muttered Gimli grumpily.
"Tangado a chadad!" yelled Elrohir.
Both his army and Thranduil's drew their bowstrings taut, arrows pointing dangerously at the opposition, some of whom were nervously backing away, whilst others had their own arrows notched. Elladan had crawled a few spaces to the side and had grabbed a fallen knife for protection. Aragorn and Boromir were wielding their own swords, and Gimli had a tight grip on his axe, all the while muttering about the Elven tongue.
"Hado i philinn!" commanded Thranduil.
A volley of arrows cam flying from both sides of the clearing, swiftly finding their way into the middle. There were cries of anger and pain from the enemy, though not every Elf lived to make another sound.
"Avo dhago hain!"cried Elrohir in alarm, as he saw soldiers falling down to the ground, and not moving again. "Dartho! Dartho!"
Both the Rivendell and Mirkwood armies ceased letting their arrows fly, though they did not lower their bows. Almost in unison, Elrohir and Aragorn leapt down from their horses – or branches – and swiftly crossed to Elladan.
"I cannot leave you even for two minutes," said Elrohir, shaking his head slightly as he knelt beside his twin.
Elladan laughed softly, but it was Aragorn's eyes he looked into. "You are alive. I thought that maybe we had come to late. Is it over now?"
"No, but it will be soon," said Aragorn gently, watching as Elrohir held some cloth to Elladan's wound. "We must look for Legolas, and I am sure that Thranduil will wish to confront Calaen."
"What do you mean?" cried Elrohir suddenly. "Is Legolas not with you? But how is it that you have been freed, yet he-?"
"There will be plenty of time after to explain," cut in Aragorn. "Listen, you two must stay up here with your patrols, and guard Calaen's men. I will go with Gandalf, Aradan, Thranduil, and some of the Mirkwood Elves to look for Legolas."
"Who is Aradan?" asked Elrohir, as he helped Elladan to his feet.
"Calaen's son," whispered Aragorn. "I only recently worked it out, but I'm not sure who else knows, so say nothing about it."
Elladan raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Calaen's son? I wonder what he did to deserve such a father."
"Absolutely nothing. Aradan proved to be helpful back there, and apparently he does not follow any of his father's ideas," said Aragorn quickly. "Alright, we have spoken too much. See to any wounded, and make sure that none of Calaen's men get away."
"Yes, Your Highness," muttered Elrohir.
Aragorn shot his brother a nasty look, before turning on his heel and going back to Thranduil. He could see Elven bodies everywhere, and the thought that the Race of the Firstborn had turned against each other, sickened him no end. He only prayed that there would be no more bloodshed today.
............................................................................................................
Tangado haid.................Hold your positions Tangado a chadad............Prepare to fire Hado i philinn................Release arrows Avo dhago hain...............Don't kill them Dartho.........................Hold
Inu Lover: No, Legolas just had a dream that he killed Thranduil. Well, a nightmare I guess it would be. :)
Hiei-Rulez: Yeah, I love the twins too! And yeah, Legolas is stupid. And sure, I'll read your story!
Vicki Turner: Wow, you are so lucky that you get to see Troy. And its even cooler cos it's a midnight showing! I'm seeing it tomorrow, and I can't wait!
Legolas-gurl888: So, how was Troy? Hope you enjoyed it! I can't wait until I see it tomorrow. I'm literally counting down the hours. Only 24 hours and 20 minutes left!
Renee: You gave your puppy away? That's sad. Yeah, we are getting a puppy, but we don't mind cos they are so sweet!
Yeah, no Legolas in this, but he's definitely in it the next chapter, which is gonna be quite an eventful one. It will be up on Monday, so I'll see you then! Luv Misto x-x
"Of course we can," snapped Thranduil, nudging his horse forwards and shoving roughly past Aradan. "You are not the only Elf here."
Gandalf sighed in exasperation, and quickly followed the King through the trees. What they saw was definitely not what they expected...Two men, a Dwarf and four Hobbits were sitting on the ground, expressions of shock and disbelief on their faces.
"Aragorn!" cried Gandalf.
The Ranger slowly glanced up, and he shook his head once, before looking back down to the ground. All the Mirkwood Elves took in his dishevelled appearance, and the faded colour of his skin.
"Where is Legolas?" asked Thranduil quietly.
"He is not with us," replied Aragorn distantly. "He is...he is still with Calaen."
Thranduil's face paled and he shook his head slowly. "Then we must go to him at once. I cannot let my son suffer any longer. When did you leave him?"
"Your Highness, the Fellowship being free can only mean one thing," said Aradan gently. "Calaen would never have released them if Legolas had not agreed to help him. I know this."
"And so do you," said Gandalf, reaching across from his horse, and putting a hand on Thranduil's shoulder.
"Are you saying that I should forget about Legolas, return home, and wait patiently for him to come and kill me?" demanded the Elven-king. "Mithrandir, you said yourself that if he went to Calaen's side, it would be through no fault of his own. I know that there is no evil in my son, and I know that he can be saved. I will do this with or without your help."
At that, Thranduil's white mare snorted and reared up on her hind legs, as if to add some drama. Then her hooves came crashing back down to the ground, and she bounded away through the trees, a horse with a mane of gold following right behind.
"They will not be alone," said Aragorn quietly. "I do not know about the rest of you, but I have faith in Legolas, and I will not leave him either. Boromir? Gimli? What about you two?"
"I wouldn't leave any being at the hands of that Calaen character, so I see no reason why I should leave the Elf," said Gimli, pushing himself off the ground with his axe.
"Ah, you got your weapons back," said Aradan in interest.
"Yes, but the soldiers were generous enough to carry them for us until they dropped us off here this morning," said Boromir bitterly, also getting to his feet. "We have been starved and we are weakened, but we shall do our best."
Gandalf smiled in satisfaction, and glanced down at the Hobbits. All of them were pale and drawn, with black rings under their eyes. The lack of food had taken its toll on all four of them, for their clothes were literally hanging off their bodies.
"Hide in those bushes over there," said the Wizard gently. "You are going to see nothing more of pain and fear today. We will come back for you when the battle is over."
"Mister Gandalf, sir, they...the Ring..." said Sam in a low voice. "They took it."
"Worry not, for it shall be reclaimed," said Gandalf. Then tightening his grip around his staff, he turned to the Elves. "I trust there is no need to give orders?"
Around twenty of the soldiers had already leapt into the trees, and were running nimbly along the branches, whilst others were holding some of the spare horses still, for Aragorn, Boromir and Gimli to climb up onto.
"No, I think that I would be much better down on the ground, thank you all the same," said Gimli, nodding curtly at the Elves.
"You will hold us up," said Aragorn.
Gimli planted his feet firmly apart, and stubbornly shook his head. "Was that a slight against Dwarves, Aragorn? Might I inform you that we travel a lot easier on our own feet, than others'?"
"That may be so, but if you refuse to mount the horse, then I have no choice but to leave you with the Hobbits," said Gandalf sternly. "It is up to you, my dear Gimli."
Though he made a noise of disgust, the Dwarf allowed himself to be helped by a group of Elves, onto the horse's back. He caught hold of the mane tightly, and when they set off, almost tumbled backwards. He closed his eyes though, hoping that the animal would prove trustworthy.
.............................................................................................................
"Fire!"
"Volley!"
"Keep to the ground!"
Orders and battle cries were being shouted by Elves from both sides of the town. They had been fighting for only five minutes, but each had lost soldiers. Rivendell's casualties were greater though, for their opponents were armed with spears, and the deadly weapons were very effective.
Elladan and Elrohir were still in the middle of the clearing, both on their feet now. They were doing an admirable job of diving to the side or dropping to the ground to avoid spears; firing their own arrows at Calaen's soldiers; and using their knives to block any oncoming arrows, and send them back to the enemy.
"How much longer can you do this for?" gasped Elladan, firing an arrow in the direction of an Elf who had cut away from the pack.
Elrohir clamped his knife between his teeth, and jumped back a step, reaching behind him for an arrow. His face paled though, as he met thin air: his quiver was empty. The only defence he had now, were his knives, his reflexes and his instinct.
"Valar," muttered Elrohir, "protect my brother."
"We must get back to our side," said Elrohir desperately, pretending not to have heard the comment. "This is getting ridiculous: we cannot keep on dodging weapons, and jumping around like fools."
"We have no choice," retorted Elladan, skilfully deflecting an arrow that had been aimed his way. There were many more to come though, and the number of enemies didn't seem to change. It was as though, for every one that was killed, another two appeared.
Elrohir flung his now useless bow down to the ground, and pulled out his other knife. He twirled the two blades in his fingers, spinning swiftly, and making sure he did not even blink, in case he missed an oncoming arrow.
"Leave your positions!" Elladan suddenly yelled to their patrol. "Just charge!"
The Rivendell soldiers leapt upon their horses, and rode forwards, all the while letting arrows fly. Many of the horses were shot by Calaen's army, and some fell, crushing their riders beneath them. But others pressed on, their fierce loyalty and devotion keeping them going.
"Why didn't we just order them to charge in the first place?" asked Elrohir as he and his twin drew back behind their soldiers.
"Not a clue. Look, Calaen's lot are multiplying. I don't know how, but they are," said Elladan swiftly. "As you can see, our numbers are growing thin, and I fear we are fighting a losing battle."
Elrohir watched in despair as the two Elven armies fought closely. "If I can get into the forest and back to where the other patrols are, waiting, then we might stand a chance. Try and remain hidden, Elladan."
"I can end all this," said the other Elf angrily. "I know it is me who they want."
"Just remember our promise," said Elrohir sharply. "And remember that we both agreed to hold to it."
"Go," said Elladan spinning his brother around and pushing him forwards. "Be careful: there could be of them out in the trees."
As Elrohir slipped into the woods, the other twin pulled out his last arrow, and let it fly over the heads of his soldiers. He was rewarded with a yell of rage, but was also filled with a feeling of dread. How many were there?
"It does not matter how much I love you, 'Ro, I still think you are a fool," muttered Elladan, unstrapping his quiver and letting it fall to the ground, along with his bow. "If you think I am going to watch others being slaughtered because of me, you are much mistaken."
With that, he pushed through the Rivendell archers, straight into where the close combat action was taking place. He hacked and slashed with his knives, but so did the opposition. They hade been taught well, and their aims hit truly.
"Scum," growled Elladan, anger rising in his heart as one of his friends fell.
Suddenly, realization seemed to dawn, for Calaen's soldiers swept over to the dark haired Elf, all at the same time. In the process of spinning his knives, Elladan managed to cut someone across the chest, but it was not long before he was pushed down to the ground.
"You have me, now let the others go," hissed Elladan.
One of the soldiers pinned their prisoner's arms above his head, and another held a knife to his throat. The Rivendell army pulled up sharply at the sight of Elladan being held down on the ground, and some of them shifted restlessly, unsure of what to do now.
"Drop your weapons," said one of the soldiers dangerously. "Drop them now, or this one dies."
The Rivendell Elves immediately let their various bows and arrows fall to the ground, despite the noise of protest made by Elladan. Tolvanir, the Elf who had previously assaulted Legolas, watched coolly as his men formed a circle around their opponents, arrows notched.
"Let them go," said Elladan through gritted teeth.
"Silence!" snapped Tolvanir, kicking the other Elf. "You will be taken to Prince Calaen. They will die."
Elladan made a low growling noise, and tried to jerk upwards, away from his captors. Tolvanir hissed, and flicked a blade from his fingers. It fell down to the ground, faster than lightning, too fast, in fact, for Elladan to realise what was happening. It embedded itself in his right shoulder.
"Ai Elbereth!" cried the dark haired Elf, slamming his head back on the ground.
"I trust you will keep still now," smirked Tolvanir. His expression turned malicious then, as he turned to his soldiers, and said, "Kill them."
Elladan cursed as he heard bowstrings being drawn taut, and low laughs issued from Calaen's army. He could feel blood flowering on the front of his tunic, but as he rested his head back, he realised with a thrill, that he could hear hoof beats through the ground.
"What are you waiting for?" Tolvanir demanded of the army, as he pulled Elladan up by the hair. "Shoot them!"
"Sir, I come from Imladris originally, and I know many of these Elves," said a young soldier nervously, slowly lowering his bow. "Sir, many of these were my friends a time ago."
"And what point are you trying to make?" asked Tolvanir dangerously.
"I...sir, I cannot shoot Elves that I grew up with," stammered the soldier.
Tolvanir smiled nastily as the younger Elf was also forced into the circle with the Rivendell army. "You will die with them, then. Anyone else who cannot summon up the courage to fire an arrow can join him. Anyone else as foolish as he, can-
"It was not foolishness that stayed his hand!" came a sudden powerful voice from across the town.
Elladan looked up, and his hope was restored as he saw King Thranduil riding through the trees, with a host of eighty Elves behind him. There was also Gandalf, Boromir and Gimli. Elladan's heart nearly stopped when he saw Aragorn, weary and bruised, but very much alive.
"Release them," ordered Thranduil, "and we will not fight. If you refuse, then you go to your deaths. It is your choice."
Tolvanir growled as he took in the numbers of warriors they would be up against. His own were running out of arrows, and had no spears left, yet these Mirkwood Elves had full quivers, and hearts filled with anger.
"As you wish," he said eventually, though he dragged Elladan back a few feet. "Take that lot and leave. This one is staying here."
"Not if we have anything to do with it," came another voice from the other side of the clearing, opposite Thranduil's army.
Elrohir was standing on a tree branch, just above the patrols he had gone to fetch. Forty of Rivendell's finest warriors were now before them, sat upon steeds of gold, grey and black. Glinting were their eyes, their faces filled with intense fury.
Tolvanir cursed and looked wildly around him, heart sinking as he realised how many newcomers there were: over one hundred. Making a noise of anger, he swiftly placed his knife back to Elladan's throat. "I will allow every single one of you to leave unharmed," he said, "but Prince Calaen ordered us to capture the son of Lord Elrond."
"Yes, we will leave. But you can tell Prince Calaen that he has the wrong son of Lord Elrond," spat Elrohir. "I am the one you are looking for; I am the one who has the visions. But if you wish us to go, we will."
"Wait!" cried Tolvanir. He tangled his hand in Elladan's hair, and jerked his head up. "Tell me what your name is, and speak quickly."
Elladan looked across at the branch where his brother stood, and swallowed nervously. He understood though, what was wanted of him, and he closed his eyes when he said, "I am Elrohir. You have the wrong twin."
Tolvanir hissed, and pulling his knife away, he threw Elladan down to the ground. Then, turning to his soldiers, he gestured for them to break the circle. "Leave them and go after the one in the tree. Kill anyone who gets in the way."
Caught up in both his fury of what had just happened, and the fear of what Calaen would say and do if he found about this, Tolvanir seemed to have taken leave of his senses. There was no physical way that his army could beat the other two.
"Do not shoot to kill," ordered Elrohir, watching as Thranduil gave the same commands to his soldiers. "Kill only if necessary. All we want to do is weaken them...for the moment."
"Tangado haid!" shouted Thranduil suddenly, his horse rearing up on her hind legs.
"I may as well have stayed with the Hobbits," muttered Gimli grumpily.
"Tangado a chadad!" yelled Elrohir.
Both his army and Thranduil's drew their bowstrings taut, arrows pointing dangerously at the opposition, some of whom were nervously backing away, whilst others had their own arrows notched. Elladan had crawled a few spaces to the side and had grabbed a fallen knife for protection. Aragorn and Boromir were wielding their own swords, and Gimli had a tight grip on his axe, all the while muttering about the Elven tongue.
"Hado i philinn!" commanded Thranduil.
A volley of arrows cam flying from both sides of the clearing, swiftly finding their way into the middle. There were cries of anger and pain from the enemy, though not every Elf lived to make another sound.
"Avo dhago hain!"cried Elrohir in alarm, as he saw soldiers falling down to the ground, and not moving again. "Dartho! Dartho!"
Both the Rivendell and Mirkwood armies ceased letting their arrows fly, though they did not lower their bows. Almost in unison, Elrohir and Aragorn leapt down from their horses – or branches – and swiftly crossed to Elladan.
"I cannot leave you even for two minutes," said Elrohir, shaking his head slightly as he knelt beside his twin.
Elladan laughed softly, but it was Aragorn's eyes he looked into. "You are alive. I thought that maybe we had come to late. Is it over now?"
"No, but it will be soon," said Aragorn gently, watching as Elrohir held some cloth to Elladan's wound. "We must look for Legolas, and I am sure that Thranduil will wish to confront Calaen."
"What do you mean?" cried Elrohir suddenly. "Is Legolas not with you? But how is it that you have been freed, yet he-?"
"There will be plenty of time after to explain," cut in Aragorn. "Listen, you two must stay up here with your patrols, and guard Calaen's men. I will go with Gandalf, Aradan, Thranduil, and some of the Mirkwood Elves to look for Legolas."
"Who is Aradan?" asked Elrohir, as he helped Elladan to his feet.
"Calaen's son," whispered Aragorn. "I only recently worked it out, but I'm not sure who else knows, so say nothing about it."
Elladan raised an eyebrow in surprise. "Calaen's son? I wonder what he did to deserve such a father."
"Absolutely nothing. Aradan proved to be helpful back there, and apparently he does not follow any of his father's ideas," said Aragorn quickly. "Alright, we have spoken too much. See to any wounded, and make sure that none of Calaen's men get away."
"Yes, Your Highness," muttered Elrohir.
Aragorn shot his brother a nasty look, before turning on his heel and going back to Thranduil. He could see Elven bodies everywhere, and the thought that the Race of the Firstborn had turned against each other, sickened him no end. He only prayed that there would be no more bloodshed today.
............................................................................................................
Tangado haid.................Hold your positions Tangado a chadad............Prepare to fire Hado i philinn................Release arrows Avo dhago hain...............Don't kill them Dartho.........................Hold
Inu Lover: No, Legolas just had a dream that he killed Thranduil. Well, a nightmare I guess it would be. :)
Hiei-Rulez: Yeah, I love the twins too! And yeah, Legolas is stupid. And sure, I'll read your story!
Vicki Turner: Wow, you are so lucky that you get to see Troy. And its even cooler cos it's a midnight showing! I'm seeing it tomorrow, and I can't wait!
Legolas-gurl888: So, how was Troy? Hope you enjoyed it! I can't wait until I see it tomorrow. I'm literally counting down the hours. Only 24 hours and 20 minutes left!
Renee: You gave your puppy away? That's sad. Yeah, we are getting a puppy, but we don't mind cos they are so sweet!
Yeah, no Legolas in this, but he's definitely in it the next chapter, which is gonna be quite an eventful one. It will be up on Monday, so I'll see you then! Luv Misto x-x