You don't know how terribly sorry I am that I was so late with this, but I had a lot of school work, then college plans and graduation. All in all, it was one busy second semester. But it's here and extremely long, for me at least. Um..., I'm not so sure about the rating on this, perhaps I should make it R, tell me if you think it should be.

I'm not so sure how this will be, I've never done a battle sequence before, but please read, relax and review.

For disclaimer, see chapter 1.

Honor and Integrity

The men were confused, Yestin could see it. He weighed his options quickly. If they were to continue down to the battle, they would likely be overtaken, but if they didn't go then Bari and Geraint would be overtaken. The question was which would result in fewer deaths.

Fate, however, didn't wait on him to decide as the first of the rogues began to descend upon the back of his men and the sound of clanging metal filled the wooded landscape. But they continued to ride on until they neared the clearing when Yestin finally gave the call to turn around. In a heartbeat his men turned their horses and launched their attack on the rouges.

Yestin raised his sword, deflecting the downward slash of an axe. Before he could get the sword back into position to strike, the axe came down again forcing him to duck. His knuckles turned white as he held on the reins of his horse, trying not to fall off, yet still dodge the blow and raise his sword in attack. As he rose, he looked up at his enemy, noticing for the first time that a mixture of blood and human flesh clung to the blade.

His stomach turned as he tried not to think about who had been on the receiving end of the blow, which one of his men had died. But thinking about the death helped him for it angered him and he rose defiantly as he sat on his horse. He brought his sword back and in one single stroke, sliced the man's head off. Blood spurted out of the man's neck, splattering on Yestin's face as he moved on.

Meanwhile Strider was dueling with another one the rogues. The rogue obviously had the advantage for he was bigger and had a far more dangerous weapon. In one hand the rogue had a metal cylinder that was attached to a chain, which held a spike. The man flung it around with dangerous speed, forcing Strider to keep his distance, he'd already seen what the spike could do as it had hit his horse.

The poor creature had collapsed on the ground bleeding from several cuts where its flesh had been torn by the spike. Angered Strider had risen and slashed at the man, and had nearly been hit by the vicious orb, but had been rewarded when the man fell from his horse. Now the two were dueling on the ground, with Strider doing more retreating than advancing.

As the rogue brought the spike up again, Strider took another step backwards to dodge the blow, but instead ran into a tree. He panicked as the man smiled, showing his yellowed teeth. Strider quickly stepped to the side, as the man gleefully brought the spike down. But he was too late as the spike collided with his back, sending him flying to the ground. He slid on his stomach across the grass as pain washed over him. He could feel as the spikes sunk into his flesh and then ripped through his skin as he was sent flying.

Regaining his senses, he tried to push the pain away and concentrate on the battle before him. He had to get back up; pushing off on the ground with his hands, he quickly rose to his feet, clenching his teeth as his back protested against the movement. Turning, he ducked below the swipe of the spike. When he heard it pass over him, he rose and raised his sword. He could see his chance, the man was growing tired.

Grasping the hilt of his sword with both hands, he shoved it outwards swiftly and was rewarded with the sound of the blade splitting open the man's skin as it sunk into his stomach. Strider had turned the tables; now the rogue was in pain and soon collapsed to the ground, dropping his spike as he fell. He clutched his stomach and moaned as Strider pulled the blade out and raised it to end the man's misery.

Strider once again pulled the blade out of the rogue and quickly moved on, easily crossing paths with yet another rogue, this time bearing a more reasonable weapon: a sword and though it was long, at least it was not a spike, Strider thought. He parried and thrust in every attempt to gain the advantage, but was often forced to deflect and block most of the time. Trying to draw from the lessons learned in his previous battle, he pushed harder, desperate not to get backed into a tree again.

He quickly dodged a downward blow and thrust his blade up towards the man's stomach. The man parried, but not quickly enough and Strider was able to gain some ground. Strider raised his blade before his opponent had a chance to recover and cut a deep gash on the man's back and shoulders. Crying out in pain, the man sank to the ground losing consciousness soon after.

Raising his blade once again, Strider scanned the area for another rogue when his eyes caught hold of two men fighting on the other side of the clearing. He recognized one as Yestin and from what he could tell, Yestin was not fairing well, being knocked back repeatedly by the stronger and more powerful man. If something was not done, Strider knew that Yestin would lose the fight, if not first from a wound from sheer exhaustion.

So he took off running to where Yestin fought, but he was stopped when a rogue came across his path. The man swung his axe at Strider, who felt the slight breeze from the blade cutting through the air as he quickly dodged the blow. Lucky for Strider the man was unable to recover as quickly as he was, allowing Strider to force his sword down the man's back. The rogue cried out it pain, quickly collapsing on the ground as the sword was pulled out. Leaving the man to writhe in pain, Strider continued on to help Yestin.

When he arrived, Yestin was lying on the ground, one hand on his stomach trying to stench the flow of blood coming from the wound there and the other weakly holding his sword. The man who had made the incision stood over him, grinning evilly as he prepared to bury his sword in Yestin's chest. Strider pushed off the ground, lunging at the man with all of his strength. As he neared the still oblivious man, Strider pulled his sword back, hoping to pierce the man when he landed on him.

Unfortunately, the man turned before Strider landed and moved to the side. He was not quick enough, however, and was caught by Strider who barreled into the man's side, but was unable to hit him with the sword. The man lay on the ground, dazed for a second as Strider picked himself up and readied himself for a fight, bringing his sword into an attack position.

The man rested on his knees and fists, shaking his head to bring himself back to reality. He couldn't believe that he'd just been knocked to the ground by a kid. Newfound anger flowing through his veins, he rose and grabbed his sword as he turned to face the boy who'd knocked him to the ground. Strider stood there, an air of confidence surrounding him. The man grinned, ready for the challenge and began to approach, his sword glaring menacingly in his hand.

Strider's confidence began to fade as he realized that he was slowly backing up. He stole a quick glance at Yestin. His captain was trying to get to his feet, but the loss of blood coupled with the pain from the stomach wound was making it impossible. As he sank back to the ground and resigned himself to lying there, he met Strider's glance. Strider saw the pain and anguish in Yestin's eyes, but he also saw the courage and fearlessness earned from years of experience.

He took that courage and planted his feat firmly in the ground, thus stopping his cowardly retreat. But the man was still coming closer. Strider felt his newfound courage slipping, however tightened his grip on the hilt of his sword and prepared for the battle. As he came closer, the man raised his sword and brought it down on Strider, who raised his sword level with his head to meet it.

The swords clanged loudly overhead; the man's stroke had been powerful and made Strider's already tired arms shake as he tried to hold off the blow. Somehow he managed to and the swords fell to the side with the two racing to setup for the next shot. Strider, however, was quicker the second time and thrust his sword at the man, but the waist-level thrust was easily deflected by the stronger and more powerful man.

Taking advantage of Strider's shock, the man brought his blade down on Strider. Strider heard his bones crack as the flat side of his sword struck his right shoulder, his sword arm. His mind grew hazy as the pain from the harsh blow registered all at once. He dropped to his knees, his left hand pressed into the ground to keep himself from falling face first into the dirt and his right arm clutching his stomach to stop unnecessary movement.

As he tried to calm his breathing, he felt the man standing over him and could feel a slight twinge in his back as the sword hovered overhead, ready to strike. Time seemed to slow as he glanced over at Yestin once again. His captain was lying on the ground still, hovering between consciousness and unconsciousness. This was the man who had saved him from death, who had taken a chance on him, who had taken him on without even knowing who he was or why he was out here. Yestin had trusted him; given him hope and Strider would not allow him to die.

Steeling himself against the pain, he grabbed his sword with his right hand and rolled out from the steady gaze of the sword and just in time too as the man had finally brought the blade down to deliver the final blow. He stayed on the ground for a second longer, trying to rid himself of the shock from having narrowly escaped death. Strider tried hard not to laugh at the scene before him as he stood.

The man had put so much force into his downward thrust that his sword had sunk halfway into the ground and now he was desperately pulling at the hilt to get his only weapon out of the ground. Strider saw his opportunity and ran towards the man, hitting him on his side and slamming him into a nearby tree. Dazed and confused, the man shook his head and tried to get up when he saw the younger man kicking at the ground the held his sword.

Strider had seen this done before when his brothers... no when Lords Elrohir and Elladan were sparring once and Elladan had gotten his sword stuck deep in the ground. Elladan tried pulling at it, when Elrohir stepped in and started to kick at the ground where the sword was stuck. After just a few kicks, the ground was loosened up enough and they were able to pull the sword out.

When Strider felt the ground give a little, he reached out with his empty hand to pull the sword from the ground and tossed it beside the man who was still trying to figure out what was going on. But he didn't hesitate at the second chance, reaching for the sword as Strider backed a little, giving the man room to stand.

Wearily, the man used the sword to push himself off the ground and stand with it ready to strike Strider, who also stood ready for the second battle. As usual, the man made the first move, charging with his blade stretched out in front. Strider easily stepped aside and stretched his own sword out, slicing through the skin and muscle of the man's stomach.

Adrenalin kept the man running past until a few seconds later when his mind registered the pain from the mortal wound and he collapsed on the ground. As he concentrated on ignoring the pain and feebly tried to stench the flow of blood that was now seeping out of the long cut on his abdomen, he felt the younger man come towards him, raising his sword to deliver the mercy hit.

'Why do you do this boy?' the man asked as he realized for the first time who he had been fighting. 'Don't you know that I don't deserve mercy?'

Strider froze, the man's voice was gruff and harsh, but his words rang clear. He did not deserve mercy for he possessed no sense of honor or integrity; he did not hold himself up to any sort of standards, and nor did the men he traveled with. He invaded villages, pillaging and ransacking the homes of innocent people for the pure pleasure of it.

After a long day of fighting, he went to the local tavern where he got drunk and then took some woman to bed, not caring who she was or how much she protested. There was not a single honorable bone in this man's body. Strider glanced at Yestin, now unconscious. He could let this man suffer as he slowly bled to death and his captain would be none the wiser. It was then he remembered what his father...no he corrected himself, Lord Elrond had told him.

Begin Flashback

Estel shoved open the doors and ran in, not bothering to shut them. He left muddy tracks as he ran past Elrond, up the stone steps to his room. Bewildered, Elrond looked around at the entrance, it had just been cleaned. Sighing, he called for one of the house workers to clean up the mess and followed his son. When he got to Estel's room the door had been slammed shut and silence emanated from the room.

'Estel,' he called calmly, but there was no answer. 'Estel,' this time he was firmer, but there was still no answer. 'Estel, open this door at once, do not ignore me.' Elrond stood for a second, until he heard Estel get up and walk over to the door. Estel slowly open the door and looked up at his father.

'What happened? Why did you tear through the hallway?' Elrond asked.

'You wouldn't understand,' Estel muttered. Elrond sighed, it seemed that the older Estel got, the less Elrond understood.

'Oh, I wouldn't,' he spoke kindly. 'May I come in?' Estel nodded and turned. As Elrond stepped in, he placed his arm on his son's shoulders. 'Why don't you try me?' Estel picked up a toy from his nightstand to fidget with as he stepped away from his father. Elrond stood waiting for his son to begin.

'I was outside playing with Halmir. We were dueling, when he distracted me. He told me that there was a rabbit behind me and not to back up or I'd kill it. So I looked behind me to find out where the rabbit was and before I knew it, Halmir grabbed my arm and tossed me into the mud pit behind him.'

'And that's why you ran in here,' Elrond asked when Estel stopped, 'because your friend played a joke on you while you were sparring. I've seen your brothers do worse to you during your matches with them. I've also seen you more muddy and not upset in the slightest.'

'It's not that Ada. See I told you, you wouldn't understand,' Estel flopped down on his bed, still messing with the toy. Elrond sat next to him.

'Tell me what I don't understand.'

'Halmir's dishonest!' Estel yelled, 'He deserves to be tossed into a mud pit of his own where he can discover what fair fighting is and learn how to fight a proper battle.'

Elrond smiled, 'Perhaps he does, but that is not your decision to make. You cannot decide who is honest and who isn't. All you can do is maintain your own integrity and live up to your own standards. Then, at the end of the day, it won't matter if Halmir is honest or not because you will have been fair and fought like a gentlemen.'

'But...' Estel began.

'I know it's not easy. Sometimes the desire to deliver your own justice is overwhelming, but you must fight it and uphold your own morals. Do you understand?'

'Yes, ada.'

End Flashback

You must fight the desire and uphold your own morals; Elrond's words rang in Strider's head. He looked down at the man, who hadn't moved, and raised his sword a bit higher.

'It's not for me to decide whether you're honest or not, just to know that what I do is the right thing.' Strider pulled down on the sword with all of his strength and plunged it deep into the man's chest. The man let out one last breath before dying. Strider tiredly pulled his sword out of the man.

Adrenalin was quickly fleeing Strider, causing the pain in his back and shoulder to pulsate once again. With a great deal of effort, he forced himself to pick up his feet, which now felt like lead, and walk over to where Yestin lay. Kneeling, he checked his captain's pulse. He was still alive, but was growing weaker. Worry began to cloud Strider's mind, until he remembered Yestin's wound.

It had stopped for the most part, but was still letting out a rather generous amount of blood. Strider tore a long piece of his cloak and gently wrapped it around Yestin's stomach, placing another piece of his cloak directly on top of the wound to try to stench the flow of blood before tying the strip.

Suddenly, he felt queasy and nauseous. The last of his adrenalin left him as well. The clouds that had been threatening to overcome him earlier finally reappeared and would not leave despite his best efforts. As he lost consciousness, he dropped to the ground and lay there until Glynn found him, blood staining the forest floor and near death.