After several days of searching, the band of Orc had been found and killed. The Elves had somehow lost the trail of any that remained, if there was one to pick up. Glorfindel, his second in command Liníta, and the twins had been out with no sleep trying to find any trace of where the Orc had gone. Liníta was of the opinion something far more than Orc was at work. She could think of no other way her lead scout would be unable to find any sign at all as to what happened to the young Elf-maid and the Uruk-hai that was no longer with the Orc.
She and Glorfindel continued to have the guard work in turns to find the missing Elf-maid, or at least her body, and her Uruk-hai captor. Trusting in the guards to do as they were bid, the four Elves had returned to Imladris for a short rest before returning to the search. They were all fatigued and battle wary. Dirt covered their usually bright and prim continence.
Liníta and Elrohir rode ahead of Elladan and Glorfindel occasionally conversing over something trivial. Elrohir saying much more than the stoic female beside him. He eventually gave up, just staring ahead in a very grim manner. Like him, Glorfindel and Elladan rode in silence, looking quite unhappy about the turn of events. Thoughts of what Orc would do to any Elf played through all their minds. An unspoken thought in all their heads that the girl was likely dead.
As they grew closer to the structures of the realm, Glorfindel spotted a figure moving toward them. Taking only a moment to realize just who he saw, he turned his horse in the direction of the wondering Elf-maid. Elrohir, noticing his slightly faster pace and his change in direction, stopped his horse and turned in his saddle. "What is he doing?" He asked his remaining companions.
Liníta did not answer, following her captain. No matter where he led, she was bound by her station to follow him, at least in matters of the guard which this seemed to be. Elladan looked at his brother. "I don't know." His eyes followed the two older Elves.
Glorfindel pulled his horse to a stop as he neared the Elf-maid. "You are to be in the healing house." Was the girl wanting to get herself killed as well? Did she want to leave her father with no one? Glorfindel's blood warmed in anger at the thoughts but he stilled his reaction.
Elrohir saw just who had caught Glorfindel's attention and quickly rode forward in case she needed healing. Mirima was prone, it seemed, to trouble. At least causing it, and this time the trouble was toward her health. He made it to her side in time to hear her reply, "I am healed. I'm going to find my sister. Something which you people have not been able to do as of yet."
"Now listen here, Elfling," Glorfindel started. He did not like anyone second guessing his command or the ability of the guard. He trained each one of them personally before handing them off to their troop leaders. And, if for some reason he did not work with them, Liníta did and she was much more hard on them than he ever was.
"You think you are more capable than we are?" Liníta cut her captain off with a biting tone toward Mirima. She was tired, dirty, hungry, and angry. They did not have the time to babysit the missing girl's sister, and defend themselves in the process. She just wanted the girl to go back to where she belonged so they could do their duty.
"Well you haven't found anything," Mirima bit back. The two females had little use for one another. Mirima thought Liníta was to stickler and uppity, always duty and honor first then her life. Of course, from what she had seen, the older Elf-maid had only her duty for a life. While Liníta felt the younger Elf-maid was reckless, disrespectful, and immature. She saw little future for the other save living off her father less she straightened up. "You can't keep me in there. I'm a free being." Mirima moved forward to leave.
"Rima, don't start," Elrohir half growled. He was not much in the mood for her antics either. Usually sweet and soft spoken, this would have taken the girl by surprise if she was really listening to him. All he got for his effort was a dark glare.
"Let her go," Liníta told Elrohir. Mirima was not trained to track as well as the guards. If she wanted to get lost in the woods that was her choice. She moved her horse back and out of the way as Mirima moved around the others.
"She is not to be wandering around," Elladan, who had followed his brother, spoke up. "Father's orders," he added, figuring that would make both Glorfindel and Liníta move to stop the girl more quickly.
"Your father can stuff it," Mirima shot at Elladan as she continued on.
Liníta spoke as Mirima did. "Right now, I don't rightly care." She turned her mount toward the direction of the stables. "Her sister is likely dead or we would have found her with the Orcs." If anything would strike home to the child, that would be it. Liníta was tired of the conversation and the wasted time.
Mirima looked at Liníta with wide eyes, tears beginning to stream down her face. She quickly turned and ran toward the stables to get her mount, not believing that her sister was dead. She had to find her, even if she was. Her body could not be left to the wilds or the Orc.
Elladan turned on Liníta with a fierce glare. "Why do you have to be so cruel?" He demanded.
Liníta, having ignored the Elf-maid's reaction completely, looked to the elder twin. "Why do you have to be so naive an innocent?" She had to admit, that was not the best come back she could have thought of, but she was tired and they were all being stupid.
"I am not naive, Sarafea," he answered, not caring how she took him calling her that. He could see the reason so many did.
Her eyes grew hot as the lava in Mordor. "Your father may be the lord of this realm, but that gives you no right, child, to speak to me so." Her horse pranced in place, agitated that his mistress was agitated.
"If you acted as someone who deserves my respect, you may have it." He looked much like his father as he eyed her coolly.
"I don't want your respect. I don't need it." She looked to Glorfindel. "I'm going back out, Captain." Before Glorfindel could veto her plan, she kicked her mount away from them for the borders.
"Elladan, that was uncalled for." Glorfindel could tell they were all tired and cranky. He did his best to keep his voice neutral.
"Just because you are taken with her, doesn't mean she doesn't need put in her place." He turned his horse and rode after Mirima.
Elrohir sighed. "Well, what do we do now?" He looked to the golden haired Elf. Things could not have gone much worse.
Glorfindel, like Elrohir, felt they had gone very badly. He did not call after Elladan like he was urged to do. The boy had been wrong in his thought that Liníta's place was below his. He knew little about the lady she had been before coming to Imladris. "Eat and then go back out. She's right, you know. The maid is likely dead."
"I know, but she did not need to say it as though Tera's life means nothing." He turned and followed his brother's path toward the stables.
Glorfindel nodded, more to himself, and followed. He hoped Liníta did not harm herself. She was prone to overdoing her duties, though she rode her unit hard when they tried the same thing. She would push them harder than any of the others were pushed, but she took care of them like they were her own children. He would have to hurry with his food and rest so he could keep a close eye on her.
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Bubhoshbujar and Esterasúle had been walking for some time. Her mind on the fact that his life had become linked to hers and hers to his kept her quiet. Something she had not been since she had finally started fighting him a few days prior. He found the silence nice but eerie.
"You speak little today." He looked down at her.
"This bothers you? I thought you liked my silence." She did not look up at him, afraid her eyes would betray too much.
He sighed. "Things change, Shauzog." He used the pet name without thought before hand, wondering why it was so easy afterwards.
She looked up at him and smiled. "They do indeed."
"We will be at your home by the end of the week." Figuring that this would be good news, the dimming of the light in her eyes puzzled him.
"I know." She nodded, voice sad.
"Has the cold become worse?" He could think of no other reason for her demeanor change.
She sighed a heavy sigh, figuring he has the right to know. "It has lessened. It is still there but . . ." She faltered, voice trailing off.
"But what?" He was growing concerned, something he could not remember ever feeling for another before.
"Something fights it now," she spoke softly. She was uncertain how he would take the news she had for him.
"And that would be?" He was growing frustrated but fought to keep it from his voice. He did not want her to clam up on him.
"You." Her voice was very soft.
He gave her a slight smile despite knowing what that meant for them both. "That good, am I?" He asked jokingly, trying to lighten her mood. She cracked a small smile. He took her hand. "I . . ." He struggled for the words never having said anything like what he wanted, taking a few moments to get them to form and come out. "I am sorry I have condemned you to death." He knew as soon as he died, and he was certain his master would want to see it done, she would start to fade more quickly than she had been.
"It is alright." She wrapped his hand in both of hers. "As long as . . . Well . . . You let me fight for you."
He immediately took the defensive on her behalf. "I will not have you injured in battle."
She smiled, his wanting her safe warming her. "I have to do something."
"You will go home and be safe." He urged her on. She continued forward, silent again. "I wish for you to be safe," he told her, stopping her. He bent down and kissed her gently.
She leaned into him. "I wish the same for you."
"I will be safe. I will journey to the West after you are within your borders." He was leaving no room for her to argue. She nodded but leaned farther into him, breathing his sent instead of moving away to continue their journey. He wrapped his arms around her, knowing it was what she wanted, needed. Their moment was broken, however, abruptly.
"Let her go," Mirima stepped toward them with her sword drawn. She had heard nothing of what was said, paid no attention how he was holding her sister just that he was, and she wanted his blood.
Esterasúle stiffened and backed up from Bubhoshbujar easily as he did not fight it. "Mirima?" She looked on her sister with shock. "You're alive?" Though she wanted to race to her sister, the sword pointed at her mate kept her from leaving his side.
"Of course I live," Mirima answered as though there could be no doubt.
"I thought you dead." Esterasúle's eyes stayed on the sword. "You don't need that. Put it away."
"Of course I need this." She looked at her sister as though she were crazy. Her tone was one that she was an authorative on everything.
Bubhoshbujar remained silent. He was willing to see how things played out, knowing for the moment it was best. "No, you don't," Esterasúle insisted. "You won't be using it."
"So this THING is just going to let us walk away without a fight?" She bit out, snarling in the Uruk's direction, motioning with her sword toward him.
Without thought, Esterasúle snapped at her sister. "HE has a name, Sister." Her eyes hardened as she looked on her little sister.
Mirima was taken aback, looking at her sister in shock. She frowned after a moment. "What has he done to you?"
"Nothing," Esterasúle said, not liking her sister demeaning her mate though Mirima had no reason to trust him.
"You act as if you're friends. I know he's the one that took you from your horse." She had seen the arrow strike her sister. She could see the same style of arrow on the Uruk's back. Taking a step forward, she tightened the grip on her sword. The memories making her want the Orc's blood.
Esterasúle could see her sister's intentions and she knew the other was not alone. She turned to her mate. "Go! She is likely not alone. They will try to kill you." Her voice begged Bubhoshbujar to head her warning and run. More for his sake than her own.
"Tera!" Mirima exclaimed in shock, horror that her sister would free such a creature. "What are you doing?" Had her sister gone mad?
Esterasúle glanced at her sister. "Something you would not understand, Rima. Something none of them will." She looked back to her mate. He brushed the side of her face with his thumb before leaning down to kiss her gently. After returning the kiss, Esterasúle begged him, "For me, go before they kill you. Go West. Live."
Mirima, in shock from the kiss, took a moment to respond to the sight. "Tera, did you . . ." She looked at the Uruk. How could she have? He was an Orc, an Uruk!
"Did I what?" She turned to her sister tone defensive. "Can't you even say it?"
"You bedded him? Bonded with him?" Her mind reeled at this. Her sister had. She had bonded to an Uruk-hai!
"I did." She dared her sister with her eyes to say or do a thing about it.
Mirima closed her eyes for a moment and lowered her sword. To hurt the Uruk was to hurt her sister as well. And to kill him as she truly wanted, had wanted, was something she could never do or allow another to do. For being so smart and mature, her sister had made a mess of things.
They were all distracted as Elladan come from the trees, smiling at first. "You've found her! And alive!" Then he noticed Bubhoshbujar. He froze, and as he did so the guard that were behind him did. They all raised their bows as Elladan did his sword. He watched in wonder as both Elf-maids stepped between them and the Uruk. "What are you doing?" He looked from one girl to the other.
"Turroquen, go!" Esterasúle pleaded with her mate.
"For her, go." Mirima looked at her sister, letting her know it was only for her she said this.
He nodded and left in the opposite direction. Elladan jumped forward but they would not let him around. "What are you two doing?" He exclaimed.
Esterasúle watched him go. When she could no longer see him, she fell to her knees. Mirima moved to her side, putting an arm around her. "Once you see father you can go after him," she whispered.
"He wants me to be safe, to stay home." She looked to the ground, heartbreaking at the thought of never seeing him again. She had no idea the feelings would be so strong. The love, the loss.
"You will be better off with him." Mirima knew how the Elves of the realm would treat her once they found out, and they would. They always found out about such things, things no one wants known.
"I know." Her voice was soft and defeated, empty.
"We will find him together once father knows you're safe," she promised.
Esterasúle nodded, struggling to stand. "Let's go home."
Mirima helped her to her feet, stumbling a little herself. She had been out for a day straight, riding hard, and was not fully healed. She ignored the looks the guards were giving them, especially her sister. "We need to return home," she told them. They wanted to go after the Uruk, that was obvious, and she had to stall. He needed time to get as far away as he could before they followed. "It is your place to see us there." They had to reluctantly agree that Elrond had said their first priority was Esterasúle's return, in whatever manner she was found.
Upon returning to Imladris at the end of the next day, Mirima was tired of watching her sister stare off or at her hands. The guards looked at her in detest, and Esterasúle refused to look at them in any way. "I'll go get father," she said once her sister was on the ground from her horse. "You should be checked out in the healing house." Esterasúle nodded, turning to go, alone. "Dan, take her there."
Reluctantly, Elladan moved forward and took the girl's arm. The rest of the guards dispersed, none going near Esterasúle. He led her toward the healing house, neither saying a word.
Mirima wasted no time going to find Talcanno, who rushed to his eldest's side. He immediately pulled her to his arms, holding her tightly. She leaned against him heavily. "Sweets, what's wrong?" He could always tell when something was bothering one of his daughters.
"I dare not tell you." She stared at his chest, burrowing into his embrace.
"You know you can tell me anything," he urged.
"I . . . The Uruk that was with the Orcs . . . Adar, I bonded with him." She spoke softly, refusing to look up at him, afraid to see the disappointment and rejection she got from everyone else.
Not loosening his hold, he asked, "How . . ." Figuring that was a stupid question seeing as there was really only one true way, he tried again. "Why?"
"He was giving his life for mine. He's sweet, gentle." He was so many things she wanted in a mate. He sighed and nodded. Taking this as a sign he was, in fact, disappointed, she reacted. "I'm sorry."
"Don't be sorry if you truly care for him." He could not imagine an Elf and an Uruk, but it was apparently possible.
"I do." She nodded.
"Alright." He kissed her forehead. "Where is this Uruk?" He wanted to meet the one that was bonded to his eldest daughter, to judge him for himself.
"I sent him West. He will be safer." Much safer, she thought.
"You will go after him?" He did not so much ask as say. If she was bonded to him, her heart could not take being so far apart.
"He doesn't want me to. He wants me to stay here where it is safe, but . . . What life will I have when everyone knows? The guards already shun me."
"We will move. Away from this place." He looked down at her.
She looked up, shocked. "But this is your home." She could not force him to leave. All he had was in Imladris.
"If they cannot accept my daughter's choice then it is no home of mine," he answered.
She hugged him to her tightly. "I love you, Ada." In one way or another, both her father and her sister stuck by her. In her mind, she had one of the best families possible.