A/N: The trees are not Fangorn... also a little cameo from everyone's favorite Third Marshal turned King of Rohan. According to book canon, Éomer does not arrive until July 18th. However, in my little AU story, Éomer arrives a little earlier to make everything work out.

Chapter 13- Relief

Midsummer's Night- Anórien

Emlin looked about at the foul creatures slowly closing in around the horse. Their skin was black and weather-beaten, the body small in stature and completely gnarled from the warts on the end of their noses to the weird direction in which their gaunt legs stood. They hobbled closer, snarling words at them she could not understand. Dark hair was tangled and matted to the crude body armor on their bodies. Their yellowed eyes flickered hurriedly, as they moved their heads from side to side and their hooked noses sniffed the air around them. Then she noticed more come from behind some trees, but they were different than the others. These new creatures were tall and well muscled, but no more handsome than the smaller ones. One of the big ones pushed through the group of small ones, throwing them to the ground.

She had made the wrong decision. Yes, it was the very wrong decision to leave Lórien. How had she even gotten out of the city gates without others taking notice? How had she passed the borders without a warden stopping them? Surely one of the wardens would have at least seen them and kept them from leaving. After all, she and Thoron were the March Warden's children and any of the wardens would have been eager to stop them and be praised by her father later. Why had she done it? Why oh why had she so needed to go disobey her parents wishes?

"Nice elleth, do not put up a fight." One of the larger ones said gruffly.

The smaller ones cackled menacingly. "And we will not hurt you... too badly."

Her horse, Varyar, danced about anxiously, whinnying and neighing at the beasts, trying to back up, but was unable because there were more behind them. Emlin felt her stomach drop as one lunged forward and grabbed for the reins but Varyar went back on his haunches, kicking out at the creature, sending him to the ground. She held on tightly to the reins, and was able to hold herself on the horse's back, but she felt Thoron's vice- like grasp on her waist loosen. There was a loud thud and she looked down to find Thoron, looking back up at her, his face completely contorted into a look of pain and fright for what was happening around them.

"Come on Thoron, stand up!" She yelled hurriedly.

He did not move. Emlin glanced around her again. They had their swords drawn and were leering even more at the fallen elfling. Thoron must have been in such a state of shock that it paralyzed him. One of the orcs reached out to grab Thoron's arm, but Varyar quickly stepped over him, though it did not protect him very much. And then she did all she could think to do. She drew her sword, preparing herself for what she had to do to protect her brother. The creatures laughed back at her.

"Nana!" Emlin cried to herself. And for once, she thought to call to her father, but she stopped her lips from forming the words. She could not say it now. He had been right all along about them not coming, and he would only turn his back on her if she asked for his help now. And she could not blame him. She had done the most foolish thing in all the history of the world. She had left the safety of her realm, with little food, little preparation, and with no clue as to which direction she was going. And she had put her brother in danger.

Another orc lunged at the horse again, and he reared up, but this time she was not prepared for it and fell down beside Thoron. She heard his muffled crying. Oh Elbereth, what had she done?! Emlin rolled to him, holding tightly onto her sword as she did and whispered to him, "I am sorry Thoron."

"You said we would be safe!" Thoron cried.

Emlin looked away from him, Varyar now pushing past the beasts as they were only concerned on the two fallen elves. The sound of the stallion's hooves as he galloped away made her worry even more, but she could not keep her attention as to the direction he was heading as one of the large ones grabbed a hold of her hair and pulled her up by the braid. She was not facing him and he then pulled her back harshly to his chest. His breath was sour and hot as he breathe heavily on her neck. A gloved hand grabbed a hold of her wrist and he twisted it until it felt like it was going to snap, and her sword dropped to the ground beside them. He laughed manically into her ear.

He leaned down over her, take a long sniff over neck, "This one is fresh, boys!"

Fresh? What did he mean fresh? Oh Elbereth...

But before she could even ponder this, she felt the beast's body tense and fall back, pulling her with him. His grasp on her arms loosened, though she still had to struggle free, and was surprised when none of the others turned to try and grab her. There attention was all towards the outside of the circle now. Emlin rolled away and stood up quickly, pulling Thoron with her. In the back of the one that had held her was a long spear, and she heard the sound of many horses' hooves beating on the ground.

Not wishing to stay around and see if these people were friend or foe, Emlin grasped Thoron's arms harshly and pulled him along into the little outcropping of trees nearby. They ran to the nearest tall tree, and Emlin motioned for Thoron to climb up out of the way. There was a great number of Men on horseback, drawing swords and spears, fighting each of the beasts, killing them so easily it appeared to her that the group had only been so large because she felt so small around them. Thoron held onto her waist for dear life, crying unintelligibly with his face buried in her riding tunic. Emlin held him close, not wanting to let him go ever again, swearing to do any amount of atonement that would be required of her for doing something so horrible to him.

As soon as the battle had started, it was over, and the fair-haired men slowly began to collect their weapons and pilling bodies on top of each other. One of the men dropped down from his mount and removed his helm that had long white horse's hair from the top. He walked over to her dropped sword, sheathing his own in his scabbard, and picked it up. Slowly he inspected the writing and craftsmanship of it, and looked around them.

"What is it, Éomer?" One of the other men said.

"Elves." He replied quietly, and she could barely hear him.

"Are you sure, my lord?" The other questioned, walking over to man named Éomer.

Éomer looked over the sword again, nodding his head, "I remember admiring the weapons of the elves when they came to Edoras. This looks especially like one of the elf-maiden's swords."

Emlin felt her heart stop. They were friendly! Her parents had obviously been with them, because her sword was almost an exact replica of her mother's! Emlin looked down at Thoron. "I must go speak to them, Thoron."

But he stopped her moving, holding tighter. "Do not go, Emlin! Do not leave me alone!"

"Then come with me, Thoron!" She exclaimed, peeling his arms away and beginning to descend the tree. Emlin dropped to the ground quietly, adjusting her tunic over her leggings while Thoron came down from the tree. Not waiting for Thoron to straighten out and follow her, Emlin started walking out into the clearing, but was soon stopped by her brother running at full speed into her and wrapping his arms around her again. "Honestly, Thoron, we are fine. Do not be so scared."

Thoron only whimpered and kept his arms around her. Emlin sighed, and removed his arms again, but took one of his hands in her own instead. She looked up at the man named Éomer, who was now watching them closely. Her mind reeled. What would she tell him? Would she tell him that she purposely disobeyed her parent's orders and needed to get back to Lórien? Should she ask for a guide to take her to Minas Tirith?

"Who are they, Emlin?" Thoron asked.

Emlin looked down at him and was about ready to shrug her shoulders when Éomer came from nowhere to stand before them. He looked down at them appraisingly, his dark eyes trying to find the reason as to why they were out in the dark, alone, and why they had strayed so far from their land. The man looked at the blade in is hands, and offered it back to her. Emlin took it quickly, and placed it nervously back into her scabbard.

"Do you speak Westron?" He spoke slowly.

She nodded her head, "Aye, a little."

He sighed, and let his broad shoulders slump, "Good, that will make things easier. I am King Éomer of Rohan. Who are you?"

"I am called Emlin, and my brother is called Thoron." Emlin said, glancing quickly down at her brother, who was slowly calming down and moving away from her. "We are children of Haldir of Lórien."

Éomer nodded his head slowly, understanding. "Why are two children out in the open at the night?"

It seemed he already knew the answer, but Emlin still let out a long sigh. "I am going to Minas Tirith."

He let out an amused chuckle as two more rather large and imposing men stepped up behind him. "You travel from the woods of Lórien to Minas Tirith alone. Are you mad?"

"It would seem so." Emlin muttered and looked at the ground.

"My lord, what would you like us to do?" One of the men behind him spoke. "We cannot spare more men to take them home."

Éomer looked at the man with the bushy strawberry beard and hair. "They will ride with us Gamling. We go to Minas Tirith, and there they shall see their parents."

Emlin felt a wave of relief come over her, but then realized she would be facing her father soon enough. "Thank you, my lord."

He smiled again, "You are just a child. How could you have thought you could protect yourself?"

"I am fifty years of age!" She exclaimed.

"That is still short lived for any of Elvish blood." Éomer spoke again, and turned to the man named Gamling, "Make camp a way up the outcropping, Gamling. And set extra bedrolls in my tent for these children."

"Yes, my lord." He replied and disappeared to speak with the other soldiers.

Éomer turned to them, "We are not far from Minas Tirith. Only a few days ride... Come let us tend to your wounds."

"Thank you." Emlin replied again, watching the man walk off and leave them standing there. She did not recall any wounds on her body, but she looked over herself, and saw the long bloody cut in her leg.

She looked down at Thoron who was now calm, but still held tightly onto her hand. Luckily he had made it out with only a slight scratch on his face. He looked up at her with his large eyes, "Emlin, are still going to see Ada and Nana?"

"Yes, Thoron." Emlin said, cursing to herself that she had brought Thoron along. She had made it seem like such a fantastic trip across the wilds of Middle-earth, to surprise their father and mother, when in all actuality it was just her disobedience and selfishness. It was not fair that Aranel got to go and she did not.

2 Cermië 3019- Minas Tirith

For three days, Indilisse had done nothing but worry. She could not even explain what she thought happened that moment when she felt that something was wrong with her children. It had washed over her, giving her the most unmistakable feeling of utter worry and grief. It was almost like her heart had stopped for a long moment before resuming beating in her chest. Where were her children? What were they up to? And why had it happened right at that specific time? Not even her continuous walks about the Citadel had helped her take her mind off of her worry.

Haldir had tried to understand her, but he could not, and it appeared that this predicament and the fact that Indilisse had chosen to remain particularly quiet for the past three days was wearing on his nerves. All he wanted was to comfort her and know what she had felt, but it had made her so physically unwell that she could not bring herself to discuss it with him. She was sure, though, that he was convinced something had happened to the children, especially when she made a run for the stables to ride back to Lórien. He had stopped her and nearly had to keep her tied to the bed so that she did not make any more rash decisions like that one.

And it appeared to be wearing on Arwen as well, as she had tried for two days to find out why Indilisse had been in such a quiet mood. "Indilisse, mellon, please tell me what is wrong."

"I do not know what is wrong, Arwen." Indilisse replied, resting her head in her hands.

"Haldir said that you sensed something was wrong with Emlin and Thoron?" Arwen questioned.

She nodded, "Aye."

Arwen sighed and pulled her friend close. "They are probably perfectly fine in Lórien, Indilisse. No warden would let two children out past the borders of the forest."

Indilisse sighed, and looked closely at Arwen for a long while. Why had she never thought of that? They would fear Haldir's wrath so much that they would never let someone slip past them so carelessly. "Arwen, you are right. But how do you explain this feeling that came over me. It hit me like an arrow, when I was not even thinking about them. It is not like I am homesick or anything, either. Haldir and I... well we were fooling about... and my mind was not even on Emlin or Thoron."

"I cannot explain it, Indilisse." Arwen sighed, "Only my grandmother could know that, and possibly my father. What you felt was probably something going awry in Lórien, but only a minor skirmish between siblings."

"I hope that is right." Indilisse said, but knew she did not say it convincingly.

Arwen looked at her friend and then down the corridor they were now walking, "Let us go have the noon meal."

Without saying much more, they walked to the feasting hall, where most every one of the visiting elves, Gimli and Gandalf sat with Aragorn and were sharing a laugh of some kind. All of the males had been summoned into a council earlier that morning, but Indilisse had not seen Haldir until now. She and Arwen walked to the long table as Aragorn stood quickly and a servant hurriedly sat another high chair beside him for Arwen. Haldir moved over on his bench to allow Indilisse a place to slid in between him and Elladan.

Wine was poured and she had just taken a bit of bread and cheese from the platter at the center of the table when two large side doors opened up and two messengers came quickly into the room. They stood before Aragorn and bowed, one of them saying, "My lord, King Éomer has arrived on the bottom level."

"Thank you," Aragorn said, waiving them off, but they did not move. "Is there something else?"

"Perhaps I should speak of it privately, my lord." The messenger said, looking down at the guests.

"Please, tell me." Aragorn replied. "Everyone here is privy to what is said."

The messenger sighed. "Two elves of Lothlórien ride with them."

Indilisse felt her entire body freeze when this news found her ears. She slowly placed her food down and looked at Haldir, who looked extremely paled. Celeborn spoke before anyone else could. "Is Lórien under attack? Do they ride for help?"

Galadriel placed her hand over Celeborn's to comfort him. "Lórien is fine, my love."

The messenger looked down the table at Celeborn. "My lords and ladies, they are two elves. One is very young, and Lord Éomer said that his éored found them wandering about Anórien in the middle of the night. They had been ambushed by orcs."

Indilisse swallowed hardly, grabbing onto Haldir's arm and holding tightly. She had been right. Indilisse looked at the messenger, "Were they hurt?"

"I am not sure, my lady." He spoke. "I was only told to relay this news."

"Thank you," Aragorn replied and waved him off.

Indilisse looked at Haldir, but found that he was already gazing at her. "I knew something was wrong."

With that said, Indilisse removed herself from her seat and ran as quickly as she could out to the courtyard of the Citadel. They were not there yet, but Indilisse stayed still and watched the entrance to this level. Should she be mad that Emlin disobeyed her and Haldir? Or should she be relieved that they were still alive to speak of it? She did not know. Indilisse heard the sound of many footfalls on the stone ground, and noticed that Haldir was now at her side, as was Legolas and both Orophin and Rúmil. By the time she trained her eyes back on the gate, she saw the first sign of the visitors, and there was Emlin, walking alongside Éomer, her clothes torn and dirty, her hair disheveled and face smudged. Indilisse sighed heavily, finding that Emlin was not severely hurt.

Relief. It was relief that she would play on first, punishment would come later.

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Cermie- July