The twins were to lead a party of elven hunters out to find the orcs and destroy them before Rivendell was endangered further. Aragorn insisted on coming with them. His own skills as a healer were nothing like as good as Elrond's, and he wanted Eltha to have the best treatment available. It was hardly surprising that Legolas had offered to come.
"I can't have you enjoying all the excitement," he said. Aragorn returned the smile weakly, but it was clear he was still worried about Eltha. Humans were such frail creatures, Elrohir thought, watching his former brother ride beside him.
There were fifty in the group, not including the four at its head, all hardened warriors. The elves rode swiftly, following the tracks Eltha had left. She had obviously been too weak to attempt at disguising her tracks. Even if she had, she would have had a difficult job hiding the blood that so frequently splattered the ground. The amount that had been spilled, Elrohir was amazed that she had had any left in her body when she arrived at Rivendell. Even in the darkness, with only a thin moon for light, they were able to see where they must go easily enough.
It wasn't long before they heard the orcs, moving off to their right. They were in a wooded area and the undergrowth hid any other creatures. Even on horseback at such speed, elves were extremely quiet, and it might be that the orcs had no knowledge of their presence yet.
Elladan stilled the movement of the party with a gesture, indicating that two elves should go and spy out what was happening. The two in question swiftly leapt from their horses into the branches, moving through trees. They returned just as quickly and told the twins in low voices that perhaps a hundred orcs were moving through the woods towards the main dwellings at great speed.
"Hoping to reach the Last Homely House while it's still dark, no doubt," Elrohir commented. Elladan nodded his agreement, then began signalling for the others to spread out. The numbers might not sound very comforting, but neither of the twins doubted that the elves would be able to hold their own against a company of orcs twice their size.
If the elves spread out, they would be able to come at the orcs from all directions, before they could prepare themselves for the attack. The archers would do what they could first, then they would all ride into the battle. The horses would allow for much greater speed than the orcs could manage, allowing any injured to escape. The orcs would, hopefully, be surrounded and easy to eliminate.
The instructions were quickly spread through the company of hunters by gestures, since they didn't want to risk voices and alerting the orcs to what was about to happen. Legolas had his bow off his back and strung in a heartbeat, making Elrohir glad that their was a Mirkwood archer in the group. He had never seen Legolas in combat, but had seen him training often enough to know his formidable skill.
At a nod from Elladan, they began moving, riding swiftly and skilfully through the trees. Elrohir's own bow was ready and he began firing the instant the first orc helmet came in sight. Beside him, Legolas' expression of calm concentration was juxtaposed by Aragorn's fury. His aim and speed weren't up to Legolas' standard, but the orcs were falling in front of him nonetheless.
The orcs were in chaos. Arrows were coming at them from all directions and they were only now getting their first glimpse of the elves. Perhaps a quarter of them had fallen, either dead or injured, before they gathered themselves enough to start returning fire.
Elrohir saw someone fall from his horse across the battle, and then another closer at hand. He kept firing though, reloading as quickly as his hands could manage. The orcs were still falling like leaves in autumn, but they were starting to make the elves pay for it.
Elrohir felt something change, and it took him a moment to notice what it was. Legolas had stopped firing. Elrohir glanced at the Mirkwood prince and saw that his quiver was empty. That brief glance away from the battle was all it took, and he paid a heavy price for that moment's inattention.
An orc-sword slashed at his horse's front legs, which gave out. The horse went down, and even elven balance couldn't stop Elrohir from rolling off, tumbling down the neck. He was on his feet in a swift movement, but he was still shaken and it took half a second for the sword to find a new target. Pain cut through his side, burning into Elrohir's flesh.
He drew his own sword in a movement slightly slower than usual, but was able to parry the next blow. He quickly slew the orc, but the armour proved tough. As the orc toppled, Elrohir's sword was caught and Elrohir was pulled on to his knees by his grip on the hilt. His side was bleeding alarmingly and the burning pain made him worry if the sword had been poisoned.
Certainly his vision started spinning dizzyingly as he tried to wrench his blade free. It refused to yield and so he was left defenceless as another orc decided he was a good target. He dodged the first blow, but the second would have killed him, if Aragorn had not intervened.
The human seemed to come from nowhere, blocking the blow and taking off the orc's head with what appeared to be half a sword. Elrohir's vision grew darker and he could barely make out Aragorn's face in front of him.
"No you don't," Aragorn said, "I did not come back only to have you die now, brother."
"You. . . you called me brother," Elrohir managed.
"I guess I did," Aragorn replied, then his face vanished into the swirling blackness.
Arwen walked through the halls of Rivendell towards the healing wing. She'd watched Aragorn ride away, because of the girl. She was human! She wasn't as beautiful as Arwen! She didn't have elven grace or skill! She didn't have Arwen's wisdom! Why should Aragorn choose her?
Arwen found the room easily. Her father had just left, but Arwen had ducked out of sight as he passed her. He seemed locked in his own thoughts and didn't even notice. No one seemed to notice. Aragorn had. Then he had betrayed her, for this pathetic, human girl, who didn't even dress as a proper woman and clearly was no good as a warrior, or she wouldn't be here.
Arwen stepped inside the room, and saw the girl lying asleep in a clean bed. It was more than she deserved. She looked practically wild and belonged in the wild. Arwen looked down on her, her face almost as pale as she sheets amid a tangled mess of dark hair.
Arwen couldn't recall ever hating anyone. She may have disliked in the past, sometimes mistrusted. But she had never hated anyone the way she hated this girl now. This girl she didn't even know, who had taken away the one person who meant most to her. Arwen had almost died when Aragorn vanished and had lost her child so soon afterwards. It had nearly destroyed her.
Aragorn's recent betrayal had been too much. Arwen had lost the thread of hope she had been clinging to, that one day Estel would return and fulfil his promises to her. Now that would never happen and without it Arwen was tumbling away into despair, her life slipping away with each breath she took.
Because of this girl.
Why should she be allowed to have Aragorn when Arwen couldn't? Why should she live when Arwen wouldn't?
When Arwen had come here she wasn't quite sure what she was planning on doing. She just knew that she had to come. Now she knew why. She had already reached this decision before she even guessed she was considering it. Aragorn would understand what it felt like to lose the one person he cared most about, the one person who made his life worth living. And this girl who had stolen away Arwen's life would suffer the same.
"I love him," Arwen whispered to the sleeping girl, tracing the tousled hair with her fingertips, "I loved him and he betrayed me. Why should he have happiness now that he has destroyed my life?"
She reached beneath the girl's head and yanked the pillow out from under it. The girl woke when her head hit the mattress and she looked up at Arwen with confusion that quickly turned to fear as Arwen pressed the pillow down on her face.