Seeing-spots: Criticism is welcome and I will try to explain some things out. I think that Elladan and Elrohir are princes because their mom, Celebrian, was Queen Galadriel's daughter. They didn't get their 'prince' status from their father. :D  2) Rúmil seems to get himself in and out of all kinds of situations. Haldir's learned to take it with a grain of salt. LOL  3) Glad you liked the common and Haldir's story. I wanted to put some comedy relief in there so it wont be all dark. :D 4) My mom and I discussed buying a farm and raising dalmations and appaloosas and calling it the Speckled D Farm. :D 5&6) I hope I prolonged this enough. Hope you got back from vacation alright!

Naomie: You will just have to see where this story goes. I think you will be surprised, my beta sure was! Lol I cant tell you whats gonna happen, you will have to watch, read, and see for yourself. :D

Lady of Light: Yes, the plot has more twists and the autobahn EG I'm trying to keep everything in balance… hurt, angst, romance, anger, comic relief, fighting scenes. It's a tiring business, but someone has to take the burden. EG Don't be surprised by what I threw in this chapter. ;)

Just Me: This story will surprise you.. at least I hope. Its gonna lead you down one path and decide it likes another. The last chapter, thirty, will put things to rest and possibly set up a sequel, that is, if there are enough responses. hint hint people

AN to ALL READERS: There will be a sequel if the need calls for it. In other words, if not a lot of people follow this through, then I will abandon it for the other ones I am currently working on. This story is FINISHED, so its not like I will not write any more for it… I will post all until it's completed, but its up to the readers to tell me what they want.

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Chapter Fourteen: Sometimes the Wrong Way Is the Right Way

Night still blanketed the land as Haldir awakened his brothers and the other elves.

"The sun has not yet rose, Brother," Rúmil yawned sleepily, "Why do we have to leave so early?"

"We want to leave before Amarah and Calorad have awakened. Now get up and pack for the journey. I do not know how long we will be away," Haldir said, turning from a grumpy Rúmil to Eremae, who was standing in the doorway, his color returning and his strength gaining by the hour. "Do you require Láiraen to remain?"

"Nay," Eremae said dismissively. "I will be safe here."

Haldir frowned and added, "If you sense danger, do not hesitate to leave. Return home as fast as you can travel. Do not linger, always keep moving."

Orophin rose unsteadily, still half asleep, "Do you sense trouble ahead, Brother?"

 "I just fear what may happen when Amarah finds that we left without her," Haldir said, biting back the urge to laugh at Orophin's tousled hair and drooping eyes. His brothers really weren't morning people.

Rúmil, still half asleep, packed some provisions for their trip, and only when Haldir yelled at him did he realize he spent the last few minutes trying to stuff his pillow in his travel bag.

When everyone was ready, or at least still conscious, Haldir opened the door, part of him expecting to see their human hosts waiting for them. Sighing in relief at the empty corridor, Haldir led the way from the house, the Elven footfalls silent on the cold floor. Eremae shut the door quietly behind his sneaking brethren and grinned as he hobbled back to bed. Rúmil grumbled in the darkness about Eremae getting to sleep in, and how he would volunteer to guard the injured elf as long as he got a few more hours sleep.

"Please, Haldir," Rúmil whispered as they crossed the threshold, "Tell me we are riding. I do not think I could walk the distance so early."

"It took nearly two hours on horseback to return," Orophin said, fighting the urge to yawn.

"If we walk, we will waste more time," Rúmil added.

Haldir knew he would get no rest from the two, so he sighed in defeat, "We take horses, but if the journey becomes too difficult or dangerous, they will be released to return home."

"That is encouraging," Rúmil mumbled to Orophin, making sure to keep his voice low so Haldir couldn't overhear.

When the Elves entered the stables, they had hoped to find it deserted, apart from the horses that lined the stalls. Much to Haldir's dismay and extreme irritation, Amarah and Calorad were helping to tackle the last horses with the help of two very grumpy and sleep deprived stable boys.

"What are you doing?" Haldir snapped in anger at the two humans.

Amarah's eyes flashed, but quickly glazed over in an expression of mock innocent, "My dear Haldir, whatever do you mean? We were making sure the horses were prepared for our departure. No harm in being prepared, that is," her eyes narrowed down in suspicion and a tone of fake shock laced her voice, "You were planning on leaving without us?"

Haldir growled low in his throat. The sheer gall of that human and how quickly she could inspire such rage and sheer exasperation had the March Warden wondering whatever made her appealing and cause him such distractions.

"Nay, we feared we would have to come wake you," Haldir lied politely.

Rúmil sleepy stood beside his brother and frowned at the humans and asked, "Were we not going to leave them behind?"

Haldir none-too-gently stepped on his brother's foot as he made his way to his horse. Though he knew the humans didn't understand Elvish, he thought they might guess from Rúmil's tone about their now deserted intentions.

Amarah gave Haldir a smug smile as she finished securing the last horse's tack. Haldir noticed each horse, minus his own, who still refused to wear a saddle, was carrying a bundle behind each of their saddles.

"What are these?" Haldir asked, pointing to the pack that seemed doubled upon Rúmil's horse (who looked just as sleepy as its rider.)

"Everyone has a bedroll and food packed into their saddlebags. Your brother's horse is carrying yours because he refused to be saddled," Amarah explained with a venomous look to the horse that nudged Haldir affectionately.

Haldir laughed and patted his mount's neck and whispered in Elvish in the horse's ear, "Gave her trouble did you? Good boy."

The horse nickered as if giggling and lowered his head.

"Are we ready?" Amarah called from the top of her horse.

Haldir nodded and easily lifted himself upon the back of his steed and called for the others to follow. When everyone was ready- Rúmil holding everyone up trying to secure his already prepared bag onto the horse and cursing when he couldn't get it to stay, Haldir finally took the pack, secured it to his own back. With an exasperated sigh, Haldir lead the group out into the predawn morning.

The group rode in silence for over two hours as they reached the place they abandoned the day before. The sun bathed the woods in its light, occasionally winking behind giant fluffy clouds. By noon, Haldir had found the right path once again. Keeping low to the forest floor, the March Warden scoured the ground for further signs of his kin. Rúmil leaned haphazardly in his saddle, holding the reigns of the other mounts and fighting the urge to yawn.

"Where did you learn to track?" Calorad asked, his boyish face alight with curiosity.

"I have learned from many over the centuries," Haldir said, his cerulean eyes followed the trail with much ease through the thickened trees.

The thought that this was too easy crossed Haldir's mind, but he quashed it, knowing that the track was indeed hidden to the untrained eye. The thick foliage instantly gave away to a sandy terrain that coiled in the breeze. The plants turned from vibrant greens to dull oranges and rust colors until no plants at all loomed ahead.

"Did I fall asleep or did all the trees disappear?" Rúmil asked from the rear of the group.

It wasn't Rúmil's sleep deprived eyes. The trees were literally gone, as was all vegatation. A vast expanse of pinkish-white sand spread as far as the eye could see. Winds twisted the fine grain, making the pearly substance shift and slither as a serpent, its weightless body skimming the sands easily.


"What is this place?" Haldir asked, his eyes rising from the path to the erratic sands.

"It is a cursed place," Amarah said with a tone of irritation. "Legend tells of a servant who defied their master and took over his kingdom. As a punishment for his actions, the land he made himself lord was turned into sand, never to support life again. He was to be the master of nothing."

"Maybe that is where your kin are!" Calorad exclaimed. "The path led here and what better place to hide someone than in a cursed land?"

"I do not know if that is for certain," Haldir said slowly. "There is a way to make sure."

Rúmil and Orophin looked curiously at once another, then to Haldir, wondering what their brother was thinking.

Haldir turned to his confused kin and explained in Elvish, "I need to see afar."

The brothers nodded, Rúmil dismounting and handing the reigns he carried to Múrendil, then followed his brothers out onto the sands several paces out. Calorad and Amarah watched with fascination.

Rúmil firmly planted his feet in the sand and held up his hands, lacing them together and waiting patiently. Orophin stood by Rúmil's side as Haldir planted his foot in Rúmil's hand an hoisted himself up, his light Elven feet standing on Rúmil's shoulders, Orophin holding up his hands to steady Haldir as he balanced himself on Rúmil. Haldir's keen eyes were able to see further and even pick through the details of the sands. With the added height and extraordinary Elven vision, Haldir could actually see the edge of the sandy abyss, noting the thin vegetation in the far distance that a normal person could not possibly perceive.

After a couple of minutes of surveillance, Haldir leapt lightly from Rúmil's shoulders, shaking his head dismissively, "No one has journeyed this way in a long time. We have been led astray."

"Another dead end?" Calorad asked dismayed.

"The ones responsible are indeed cunning. They have doubled back and covered their tracks well," Haldir said as he and his brothers rejoined the group.

Haldir wanted to growl in frustration, his brow drawn in anger, "We backtrack, looking for something that looks ordinary."

"Again?" Calorad sighed dispirited.

"If you wish to return home, then feel free to do so," Haldir said with disdain.

"And lose the chance to see a great elf tracking so expertly?" Amarah asked, sarcasm lacing her words.

Haldir didn't fight the menacing growl that escaped, "It is difficult to do such a job when one is constantly being annoyed by others."

"Being annoyed?" Amarah snapped, hands dropping her reigns and putting them on her hips in an argumentative manner, "More like possessing NO skills whatsoever and leading others off into the wilderness with no sense of direction!"

"No sense of direction?" Haldir's voice was deep, gruff and very strained as he stared hard at the human woman.

Rúmil stepped between Amarah and Haldir, placing his hand on his brother's chest and saying, "We have lost time. Move on!"

Haldir's bright blue eyes shone with anger and defiance. After a couple of deep breaths, he nodded his ascent to Rúmil and started off at a run in the direction from whence they came.

As the day wore on, Haldir remained quiet; his gaze kept on a new path. The trail that they followed before was now ignored- instead, Haldir started in the opposite direction. By late afternoon, the sky grew gray and overcast. Shadows stretched beneath the concealed sun, casting its weathered veil over the land.

After a couple hours of following no conceivable trail whatsoever, Rúmil caught up with Haldir and asked, "Haldir, there is no trail here. Are you for certain we are on the right path?"

"All of our backtracking has wasted time we do not have," Haldir said, pushing underbrush away.

Múrendil had silently fell into step with the brothers and listened to their conversation.

"I do not know how to explain it, but I feel we are on the right path," Haldir said.

Rúmil frowned, "Forgive me brother, but it appears we have lost the trail completely."

"I have concerns over the route we were taking," Haldir said, his brow knitted together in deep thought.

"Indeed," came Múrendil's voice. "We were going in circles."

"What?" Rúmil snapped earning inquisitive looks from the others that were lagging behind.

The rise in voice caught everyone else's attention, who watched the three elves in the lead with curiosity, all except Amarah, who seemed to be very agitated.

"Control your manner," Haldir said to Rúmil in a would-be calm voice. He turned his attention to Múrendil, frowning, "I had only suspicion of our pattern, but I feared it was folly."

Múrendil nodded solemnly, "I have watched the sky and found that we were focusing too much on the southern boarder of the Lady's land."

"I have noticed this as well,' Haldir said. "That is why we returned to the place I found the blood and choose the opposite direction than that of the false path."

A roil of thunder echoed through the dense trees as the company wound their way through the mossy trunks. Several minutes passed by in silence until Rúmil whispered, "How do you know we are on the right path now?"

Haldir redirected the group again, "At first I thought we were led wrong, until I found what is on the forest floor to your left, Rúmil."

Rúmil glanced down and let his surprise show. His mouth hung slack and his brow raised high as he saw the small, almost invisible to keen Elven sight, the faint drop of blood. The trail dotted sporadically along the way the Elves were following.

"You believe it of our kin?" Rúmil asked when he regained his senses.

"Of that I am for certain. I found a strange impression beside the blood a few paces back. It was the shape of the Lorien leaves. A sign by our kin to let us know they are alive and on this path."

Rúmil nodded, his heart lightening at the news, "The ones that made the false track are very clever. If it had not been for you, Brother, I fear we would have been wandering for far too long."

Haldir sighed, "I feel that I have wasted enough time following the false trail. I hope to make it up to our brethren and never allow this to happen again."

"At least we have found the right path. Everyone is relieved to know our journey to be true," Rúmil said, hoping to boost Haldir's confidence and hope.

"That is not so," Múrendil put in calmly.

"What do you mean?" Rúmil asked his surprise at the normally quiet elf showing in his flashing eyes, "We are going in the right direction."

Múrendil nodded once, "That is true." His eyes flickered ever so slightly to the others following behind, "But the woman is not happy at all."

Haldir and Rúmil favored a quick glance to Amarah, their trained eyes detecting her scowl and white knuckles on her reigns within the span of a heartbeat.

"She has remained quiet for far too long," Múrendil said casually, "And she has been forever increasing in her restlessness."

Haldir did another take and noticed Amarah apparently biting the inside of her jaw, her eyes set and stern, darting about the forest.

"Our host is wary," Múrendil turned his head to Haldir, "It is wise we should be as well."

Haldir noted the accent of Múrendil's words and sighed, wondering how in the name of Varda he got caught up in such a precarious situation.

The group traveled less than an hour in silence. Haldir, Rúmil, and Múrendil mulling over what had been said and the information they had perceived, when the sky grew too dark to continue.

Calling everyone to a halt, Haldir ordered Múrendil with Orophin so he could pass on the conversation to the Warden's brother without human ears listening. Haldir silently thanked the Vala that very few humans knew Elvish, and that he and his party could discuss anything openly without human understanding.

Rúmil went in the opposite direction, taking Láiraen with him to explain the situation.

Haldir remained with Amarah and Calorad, unpacking the horses and setting up camp.

"I take it we are lost?" Amarah asked haughtily.

"We are making camp to wait out the storm. Though we could travel through the weather, you could not without risking illness."

Amarah made to argue but conceded that Haldir had a point, "You must know humans well to know we would get sick from the rain."

"Fairly well," Haldir smiled, remembering the lessons he learned about humans were thanks to Lord Elrond's adopted son, whom he had met a couple of times years ago.

Amarah started to unpack her horse. Her bones ached, her feet ached, her mind ached. She wondered why she had wanted to come along instead of enjoying a hot meal, endless drinks, and a warm, toasty bed. Then her eyes drifted to Haldir, unpacking his brother's horse. She watched him for a few seconds, his muscles firm, moving effortlessly, lithe hands nimbly going the fastenings, his golden head capturing all the dismal light and reflecting it. She shook herself out of her reverie and secretly wondered if Elves in general looked like the ones surrounding her. She made a vow to ask later, at a more appropriate time.

By the time the horses were all unpacked and looped together around some trees, grazing on the luscious foliage around them, it was dark as night, though it was only certainly early evening. An expanse of black, gray, and purple clouds collided, sending jolts of sound and electricity, echoing all around. The distant boom startled the horses.

Rúmil, Orophin, Láiraen, and Múrendil all returned carrying long fronds and limbs in their arms. Without word or command, they piled them near the base of several trees rooted together, their boughs hanging down as if in waiting for the Elves to work their magic.

Rúmil and Láiraen leapt lightly into the branches of the bowing trees, accepting the long fronds and limbs from Orophin and Múrendil who remained on the ground. Rúmil and Láiraen's hands were blurs as they wove and thatched the fronds together, using the surrounding vines as ropes to secure their work in place. Limbs intertwined and sealed off the outside world as the Elves constructed a three-sided shelter, protecting those inside from the increasing wind. The boughs of the trees molded together, with a little help from Rúmil, who tied several vines around them and maneuvered them over the shelter, providing a nature made roof.

No sooner had they finished than the first sprinkles of rain fell.

"Under," Rúmil said in his thick accented Common, motioning for the two humans to take cover.

Amarah and Calorad stepped into the shelter just in time as huge droplets pelted the ground.

Haldir entered carrying an armful of firewood, "See if you can get a fire started. I am going to help build the horses' shelter."

Amarah watched as Haldir secured his cloak tighter about his shoulders and ducked into the rain. Rúmil and Láiraen were securing the last long fronds to the limbs above the horses as Orophin and Múrendil intertwined the leafy fronds through the sides and give some resistance against the wind and rain.

When the last bit of shelter was secured, the elves made their way to Amarah and Calorad, who had a decent fire burning. Amarah and Calorad had some food out and gestured to it. Haldir shook off his cloak and hung it on a stub of a branch that lined the inner part of the shelter. The others quickly followed suit, hanging their cloaks on the makeshift hooks to allow them to dry.

Though the Elven material prevented water from seeping into its fibers, the Elves were still soaking wet from all the movement of their quick shelter construction.

Haldir pulled his jerkin over his head, followed by a long sleeved green-gray shirt, and pulled a couple branches off of the inside of the shelter. Using them as props, he put his clothes close to the fire to dry them out. His thin, tan, short-sleeved shirt had very little rain around the collar, the other garments obviously absorbing the majority of the rain. The other Elves soon followed suit, settling their clothes next to the fire as well and stoking the embers to encourage the flames.

Amarah's eyes darted around at the form fitting shirts the elves wore and felt her throat go dry. Though the cloth was adequate in covering their bodies, it clung to every muscle and curve of their physique. Amarah busied herself with putting a couple smaller logs onto the fire to encourage more flames. Calorad had watched his friend's eyes and noted her flustered demeanor and scowled, wondering if the elves realized how much Amarah admired their forms.

When all the elves had gotten some of the proffered food, Amarah looked at them and smiled, "Thanks." Twice she caught herself staring at broad shoulders, and well-defined arms that showed the warrior status each elf possessed. She felt herself become slightly warm and wiped her brow with the back of her hand.

Haldir translated into Elvish and the others nodded their welcome as they settled down to eat.

"Where did you all learn to do this?" Calorad asked, waving his hand around to the shelter.

"We learn how to create shelters and flets when the need arises," Haldir explained through bites of dried fruit. "We are often on guard duty or traveling and need protection against the weather."

"Well, you have impressed me," Amarah said, fanning the fire and making the flames leap in a vibrant reddish dance.

Haldir bowed his head in thanks. After several minutes of silence, broke only by the clap of thunder, crackling of wood, and the constant patter of rain, Haldir noted everyone's eyes darting here and there, their bodies fidgeting. Knowing that the pent-up energy and unnerved feelings would not abate, Haldir ordered to the restless Elves, "Check your weapons. Use this time to do repairs and make notes on what you have with you."

The Elves immediately set about their tasks, thankful to be doing something. Bows were checked, strings tightened, arrows inspected and aligned, swords cleaned, their edges, shining in the firelight. Several elves broke off straight sticks that jutted from the shelter, sharpening them and using spare feathers to fletch them into crude arrows.

Amarah's eyes were wide as she watched the Elves un-sling their bows and quivers and withdraw their swords, "What are they doing?"

Haldir saw the scared expression on the young human's face and explained, "Be at peace. They are checking and cleaning. We do not want to be caught in a battle with damaged weapons. We have spent many arrows already and do not wish to run out if we encounter more orcs."

Amarah watched as lithe Elven fingers caress the weapons, easily adjusting fletchings, running nimbly over the highly polished and decorated surfaces, searching for flaws. Each Elf had his own specifically detailed weapon, honed and balanced to the individual that carried it, many and varied, yet alike and deadly in their beauty.

Amarah leaned forward, watching the Elves attend to their weapons, her eyes taking in the deft movements, training and practiced with centuries of foreknowledge as they swept through their familiar patterns.

"May I see?" Amarah asked, holding her hand out to Haldir.

Haldir paused, then held his weapon firmly in his hands and gestured to the ancient sword, "You may not hold it, but you may see it as close as you wish."

"You fear I will hurt myself with it?" Amarah smirked crawling on the forest floor and stopped before the March Warden, kneeling before him and gazing at the shiny metal held protectively in his hands.

"A warrior must never let his weapon be wielded by another than himself," Haldir said flatly. The fire reflected in his eyes. The flames mirrored a blazing internal fire, strong, confidant, which burned within the powerful elf.

"You believe the weapon will not allow itself to be used by another?" Amarah asked as her hand ran the length of the blade.

"Weapons are the extension of their wielder. When they are one, then there is no difference between them. Both are deadly, and compliment the other to create the perfect balance," Haldir said, subconsciously cradling the sword closer.

"I never thought of a cold piece of metal to be a part of a warm, living being," Amarah said softly, running her fingers over the hilt, across the engraving and down along the edge of the blade.

"It is not a cold piece of metal," Haldir said affronted. "We are one. We protect each other."

Amarah smiled up into Haldir's face, "No disrespect meant." Her eyes darted around to the others, taking in their designs and forms, and noting that Haldir and his two brothers carried vastly different swords. "Tell me, who forged the sword that you and your brothers carry?"

Haldir unnecessarily polished the ivory hilt and smiled, "Of their master I know not. Many centuries ago when we were young," Haldir motioned to his brothers and smirked at the term that defined age, "while traveling we encountered Orcs. They outnumbered us and as untrained as we were, easily overcame our party. We fled to a lake, large and sparkling like gems. Knowing that orcs can not swim, we ventured into the water."

"You were to swim away from the Orcs?" Amarah asked, her voice betraying her not fully understanding what an Orc was, but guessing it to be gruesome.

"They fear water," Haldir said. "They refused to follow and after several hours, disappeared from the shore."

"You swam all that time?" Amarah's jaw dropped and her eyes were wide. Her hand ran back down the length of the blade, feeling its coldness bite crisply down into her bones.

"Yes. Believing a trap was set; we swam to the opposite shore. As we neared, Rúmil was pulled under the water," Haldir recalled, his azure eyes becoming distant with the memory. His heart still skipped a beat when he replayed the events over; his mind easily slipping into the fear that his brother was lost.

"He was pulled under? By what?" Amarah gasped, her hand coming to rest directly over Haldir's that poised on the sword's edge.

"By what, we never knew," Haldir said softly, his eyes still unfocused. "Orophin and I dove under the water to search and saw a shimmer below, coming from what appeared to be a cave. We swam into it and surfaced in a large cavern. Rúmil was standing at the water's edge, staring at the sparkling walls."

"They sparkled? With what?" Amarah's voice was hushed as she listened intently to the story.

"It was as if the stars themselves fell from the sky and took refuge upon the walls. A thousand diamonds could not match the light and purity that shone on the surface. But what held our attention was what was before Rúmil."

Haldir glanced down into Amarah's face, his eyes still vacant but also awestruck, "A vision stood before Rúmil. Smiled at him, her body made of mist and her eyes shone like Elbereth herself. She nodded once, then disappeared into a wisp of smoke."

"What?" Amarah's eyes were so large she resembled an owl. "She disappeared into thin air?"

Haldir nodded as if speechless, but continued with his voice much softer, "A table made of water, stood where she faded. There were no legs to support it. Only a glittering pool of water hovered before us. Within the crystal water rested these," Haldir gestured to his sword in his hands, and to the two that were held lovingly in his brother's hands.

"Were you frightened?" Amarah asked breathlessly.

"Very," Haldir answered. "Though we knew not of the maiden of mist, nor of the weightless water that held the three swords, we put our hands into the water and withdrew the blades. When all three were removed, the water disappeared just as the maiden had done. The swords burned within our hands, but we could not let them go."

"They burned you?" Amarah gulped hard, her hand caressing Haldir's that rested upon his sword.

"They burned, but they did not leave a mark. Our names blazed across their hilts and an Elvish oath engraved itself across the handle," Haldir pulled the hilt into his hands and held it so Amarah could see the elegant Elvish writing upon it.

"It is most beautiful," Amarah whispered, her hand lightly caressing the hilt, her fingers running over the words and feeling their etchings. "What does it mean?"

Haldir pointed to the inscription around the top, next to the blade, "That is my name in the Elven tongue. The words mean, "My wielder embodies that which I defend: Dignity, Love, and Honor'"

"The same is written upon all three?" Amarah asked, her hand running the length of the blade once again.

"Yes. Each holds the name of the one that wields it," Haldir said softly. "Each bears the oath, and that promise is what guides our hands."

"Beautiful," Amarah smiled then blushed slightly. Her smile vanished as she cried out, her hand retracting close to her body, "OUCH!"

Haldir abandoned his sword across his lap and reached out to Amarah,"What is wrong?"

Amarah's face was screwed up in pain, her eyes fighting the tears that welled, though not successfully, as several fell down her cheeks. "It cut me."

Haldir gently pulled Amarah's hand away from her body and examined the blood stained fingers.

Calorad and the Elves were immediately standing around, alarmed and worried.

"Amarah! Are you alright?" Calorad asked, his voice turned gruff at the discoloration staining her hand. "What happened?"

Orophin automatically buried himself in his pack and emerged seconds later with an antiseptic ointment and wrap, and knelt beside Amarah. With extreme gentleness, he wiped away the deep crimson that painted her hand, inspecting the two deep gashes that adored her middle and index fingers.

Calorad was at Amarah's side, his arm draped over her shoulders and murmuring words of assurance. Amarah hissed in pain as Orophin pressed a cloth to the cuts, his other hand deftly removing the top of the Elven ointment and lathering up on his finger. After a couple minutes of applied pressure, Orophin lessened his grip and applied the salve.

Amarah gasped, "It tingles."

"It is healing the cuts," Haldir told her as Orophin ripped a thin strip of material and bandaged Amarah's two fingers. Orophin said something in Elvish and Haldir translated.

"Keep the wounds bound and clean. They should be healed by the morrow."

Amarah felt the tingling extend up her arm, past her elbow and work its way up along her shoulder. The sensation felt like armies of ants were marching along her skin.

"Thank you," she said, placing her hand on Orophin's. "What was your name again?"

"That is Orophin," Haldir said as Orophin nodded and hurried to repack his bag, ears slightly pink.

"Orophin," Amarah repeated and gained his attention. "Thank you, Orophin."

"Welcome," Orophin's accented Common replied.

"I think there has been enough adventure today. Get some sleep. We will take turns on watch," Haldir said, rising to join the others and assign the shifts.

Lightning arched across the sky, silhouetting the Elves against the electrified background. Thunder rolled overhead, bouncing from one cloud to another as rain fell heavily upon the land.

Calorad stretched his bedroll close to Amarah and whispered, "Does it still hurt?"

"I only feel a tingling sensation. There is no pain or discomfort," Amarah whispered back.

"Well, get some sleep," Calorad said, nestling himself down under a thin blanket. "I fear we may rise far too early again. I for one think it is most unnatural."

Amarah grinned and rolled over on her side, letting the tempest outside the shelter to sing her to sleep.