The Twisted Web of Fate

by Sinister Sindar Sisters

Thranduil and his young son travel to a trade meeting very soon after the death of their wife and mother. Unknown to them, darkness follows them. Will they survive and make it back to their beloved home alive?

14. Chapter 14

The Twisted Web of Fate. 11?

(Gwî Norn Ned Amarth)

By the Sinister Sindar Sisters (M. Cross and B. Kennedy)

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Disclaimer: Try as we might, we still don't own any part of the wondrous world created by the genius of J.R.R. Tolkien, so we just visit it and borrow a few characters for these stories. We write them for our own entertainment and we surely don't make any money off them.

Rating: PG13 Action/adventure/angst (hurt/care)

Feedback: or on list

Spoilers: Well, surely for LOTR

Summary: Thranduil and his young son must travel to a trade meeting too soon after the death of their Wife and Mother. Unknown to them, dire danger and darkness follows them. How will they survive when they discover that the gathering evil has targeted the small Elven Prince?

WARNINGS – Lots of angst and hurt/care throughout this story.

Shell (MCross) is a stickler for medical accuracy. There are violence, graphic illness and injury descriptions here. This chapter deals with a battle with Orcs and the aftermath. It may be disturbing to some.

Tissue warning - You might want a couple close to hand. We got a bit teary in parts.

We are aware we seem to be repeating the same story to different characters, but they need to be told what is happening too. We try to mix it with lots of new stuff.

The story is Alternate Universe to begin with, though heavily structured on Middle Earth history, research and medical fact. Enjoy the show. It's all for fun anyway.

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---- Sindarin vocabulary ----

References: Dragon Flame, Thain's Book and Encyclopedia of Arda

Adar, ada - father, dad

Amarth – fate, doom

Anor – Sun

Aran, Aran-nin - King, my King

Ardhon, Arda - the world

Baw – no, don't

Carnen an gwend - Done for friendship.

Caun - Prince

DaerAda, DaerNana – (roughly) Grandfather, Grandmother

Daro - Stop, Halt

Elleth, ellith – elf-maiden, elf-maidens

Ellon, ellyn – elf, elves (male)

Estelio nin - Trust me.

Fea - soul, spirit

Gerich veleth nín - You have my love.

Glamhoth (or yrch) anglennol! - Orcs are coming!

Gwador – brother

Gwanur – 1. pair of twins 2. brother or kinsman, kinswoman

Gwathel - sister

Gwî – web

Hain dago! - Kill them!

Hannon le – Thank you

Hennad - thanks

Hir, Hir-nin - Lord, my Lord

Hithlain – 'mist-thread' a substance used by the elves of Lothlórien to make strong ropes

Iaur - old

Imladris – Rivendell

Ion-nin – my son

Irmo – Vala of dreams and visions (also known as Lórien)

Laes - babe

Meleth – (My) love

Melethron – (my) lover (masc.)

Melethril – (my) lover (fem.)

Mellon-iaur – old friend

Mellon-nin, mellyn-nin - my friend, my friends

Namarie – Farewell
Námo – true name of the Valar Mandos

Ned - of

Norn – twisted

Olórin – The Maia (Istari) Mithrandir, Gandalf, his 'true' name

Penneth – Young one

Saes – Please

Sell-nin – my daughter

Sîdh - peace

Suilad – Hail or Greetings

Úlairë – Ringwraith, Nazgûl

Yrch - orcs

/ text / indicates thought, dream or visions

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Chapter Eleven

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The Elven troop increased their pace after the skirmish with the Orc scouts and the distance passed with relative ease. They should, with luck, be at Bree soon. With even more luck, they would have met up with Elladan and Elrohir by then.

Galadriel spoke with Celeborn, mind-to-mind through their bond, to let him know that Elrond had arrived safely in Imladris, along with Thranduil and Legolas. It was good to hear from his bonded again. He had been worried about Elrond. He had hated to see his daughter's husband ride off like that so soon after the visions that he had suffered.

The large group of Orc scouts that they had encountered had caused more worries. The number of scouts indicated a very large group of Orcs somewhere in this region, and they seemed to be moving before it was as dark as they preferred normally. It was a surprise that such large groups of Orcs were moving in these lands again.

The fight had been brief and intense, but they had been lucky. After defeating the Orc scouts, they had come away with cuts and bruises only. The Orcs were apparently heading in the direction of Bree, though, and that was where his grandsons were headed.

He was pleased to speak with Galadriel through their bond. He had worried about her as well. She had looked so pale and worn when he left.

He should have had his attention more focused on the road ahead of them. He knew that, but he had needed the contact with his Bonded, needed the reassurances after the battle with the Orcs. His vulnerability during the skirmish had left him shaken. He was unaccustomed to being helpless in battle.

He was now stationed near the middle of the group as was the custom, so that if there was a problem the warriors could protect him. He hated that necessity.

They had been discussing Bree and Eirien and their hopes that Elladan and Elrohir would be safe there when it happened.

"Glamhoth anglennol!" A warning cry that orcs were attacking.

Celeborn could not have said who called out the warning. He quickly cut off from his bond with Galadriel knowing that it would worry her, but this needed his full and immediate attention. He would not be helpless this time.

He drew his bow, not with his usual gracefulness, but with a rather jerky movement and a deep furrow between his brows. Then they plunged into the fray. Celeborn's first arrow hit a charging Orc right between the eyes and the fell creature tumbled to the ground with a loud thump. Several more met the same end from his arrows.

Then the fighting came to close quarters where bows were no use. For close combat like this they needed swords. Celeborn drew his in one rapid movement and prepared to fight mounted though most of his men had dismounted to meet the enemy on foot.

One of the lead Orcs made a direct line for him. It was a rather ugly beast, with a large ragged scar that ran down the length of its face and split its lip in two. It snarled at Celeborn, its yellowed, sharp teeth enough to make anyone shiver.

"I smell Elf flesh and it'll be mine for the feasting!" It sneered at Celeborn.

He did not answer, but lifted his sword into position and waited. All around him Orcs were dying. He had not seen an Elf fall yet, thank the Valar.

Then the two of them clashed. The Orc smelled foul, even from the back of his steed.

"I will enjoy the taste of your flesh." The Orc taunted and licked his lips as it swung its wicked blade.

Celeborn did not react, but the cold smile on his normally-serene face would have been enough to give any sane foe nightmares. It seemed the Orc was not in that category and their swords met with the clash and ring of colliding steel.

Again and again they parried and slashed at each other, neither giving ground to the other. Celeborn's steed was steady and agile, helping to keep the foe at bay with flashing hooves. Celeborn saw a momentary opening in the Orc's swing and swiftly took the advantage. First blood went to him, as a deep slash appeared across the top of the Orc's shoulder. It hissed and drew back favouring the arm.

"I'll rip out your throat and drink your blood for that!" It snarled, pulling a dagger with its left hand.

Celeborn remained calm. "You could try."

The Orc snarled in fury and attacked once more.

Another swipe and more blood flowed, all of it black. It brought forth another growl as the Orc moved once more to attack. This time with vicious intensity that stunned Celeborn and drew blood from his slashed left leg.

"Not laughing now, Elf?" The sneer was back full-force.

"That is nothing more than a scratch." As he spoke, his blade arced down once more. This time the blade met solidly with flesh. The Orc gaped stupidly at the stump of what had been his left arm.

The black blood arced with a force that told of major injury. The Orc raised its sword once more, though he did not get another chance to use it. He looked up in time to see the sword of the Elf swerve down to meet his neck. It was the last thing he ever saw. The sword took his head off in one go.

Celeborn urged his horse around to see how the battle went. The Elves were winning, but he could see that they had not escaped unharmed. At least three Elves lay on the ground. He could not see whether they yet lived.

Suddenly his horse gave a mighty shudder and he felt it stumble and fall. His left leg, the newly re-injured left leg, was caught beneath the horse …again. He could not stop his pained cry as his leg was twisted beneath the horse and he felt a searing pain in his thigh. He had landed on the severed arm of the orc he had killed and the dagger still clutched in the hand had pierced his thigh on the impact.

"Hir-nin!" A voice sounded above the din of fighting.

Celeborn struggled to pull his leg free, but it was well and truly caught beneath the still body of the stallion. He soon gave up. Any further movement would only serve to make his wound larger. A shadow came over him and he looked up to see another Orc leering down at him, its sword held ready to make the fatal blow.

"Stuck, Elf?" How did the Orcs sneer like that?

Celeborn thanked the Valar that he still had his sword in hand... this time. He readied it to defend himself, if possible from his position, half-turned on his chest. He felt a pang of remorse that he had not said one last goodbye to Galadriel. He had promised that he would stay safe, that he would bring their grandsons home safely. He may never get the chance now and it pained him. He would never get to tell Galadriel again just how much he loved her.

The sword came down in a swift stroke, meant to chop through his neck. Celeborn never flinched, but raised his sword in an effort to deflect the blow. The stroke never fell. A look of surprise crossed the Orc's hideous face, just before its head fell from its shoulders.

Then slowly, as if he were watching from a great distance, the sword fell to one side and then, unbelievably, the Orc's body went with it.

"Hir-nin!" A face appeared above him, pale with worry, Captain Ivorhen. This was the second time this night that the Imladris Captain had saved him, in strangely similar circumstances.

"Are you injured, Hir-nin?" There was a slash across Ivorhen's forehead, dripping blood down his face

"My leg." That was all Celeborn could say.

"We will move the horse, Hir-nin. The Orcs are finished." Ivorhen called for more of his men to help him.

"How did we fare?" Celeborn spoke between gritted teeth.

"We have two dead, three are injured. Your horse is dead, Hir Celeborn." He sounded apologetic.

Celeborn's heart dropped. He and his stallion had been through much together, but the news of his men was truly heart-breaking.

Suddenly the crushing pain in his leg was gone as the horse's body was rolled away. He found himself clutching his thigh as the feeling returned and then the pain flared once more. "I am impaled on a blade beneath my leg."

"Let me see, Hir-nin." Ivorhen carefully turned him on his right side to remove the blade from his leg. The crude handle protruded from his leg at an angle from the front outer side and the tip of the blade showed on the back side of Celeborn's left thigh, possibly piercing nothing more than muscle "I am sorry, Hir-nin, this will hurt. I will be quick." Ivorhen grasped the knife firmly and pulled it straight out. Celeborn gasped, but did not cry out.

Ivorhen then helped move Celeborn away from the orc's body before reaching for his torn leggings once more. "Who knows what that foul creature had on its blade? We will need to clean that." He set the knife aside to check later for poison, and then drew his own sharp dagger. Not bothering to ask this time, he simply slit the left leg of the leggings almost to the hip to be able to care for Celeborn's wounds.

Celeborn did not have the chance to speak before the wounds on his leg were revealed, all three of them, the bandaged one on his calf from the last attack and two new ones on his thigh. The sword slash was deep and bled freely as did the dagger wounds.

"These will need stitching." Ivorhen blinked and wiped the blood away from his eyes that was still running from his gashed forehead.

"It can wait." Celeborn knew they had to get away from this area.

"No, Hir-nin, it cannot. Estelio nin, the bleeding is great and if either blade was poisoned..." Ivorhen was worried about that. He applied pressure to the slash to try to stop the bleeding.

"Very well, but be quick." He took a good look at Ivorhen. "Perhaps before you begin, Captain, you should let one of your men hovering over us see to your own wound. You could probably see clearer without the blood dripping in your eyes."

Ivorhen looked around surprised. Several others in their party were standing close by, anxiously watching them both. A couple of them already had their packs in hand, bringing out bandages.

"I think that may be a good idea, but just bind it for now." He turned back to Celeborn. "I can clean this while they bind my head."

That was how they worked out the care of the wounds. Ivorhen had his head wound dressed while he cleaned the leg wounds. The new wounds to Celeborn's thigh really were nasty and eventually took over fifteen stitches to close the dagger wounds front and back where it had gone all the way through and then twenty for the sword slash.

As soon as the dressings were secured around his leg, Celeborn wanted to be under way again. The dead Orcs had been moved off of the main roadway. Celeborn said a sad farewell to his faithful mount before reluctantly being helped to mount a horse that had belonged to one of their dead. They brought their dead with them. Celeborn would not leave his men to lie with the foul creatures they had just fought. They would be buried at Bree, if the Mayor allowed it.

Soon they were racing through the dark, eager to be away. They would be at Bree before moonrise. There they expected to find Elladan and Elrohir. They would also warn the Edain of the town that they must be on their guard against the Orcs. There were far too many of them gathered for it to be anything less than design. Celeborn could feel a threat hanging over the land. One need not have the foresight of Elrond to tell that something was happening. Whatever it was, it boded no good.

They had been riding for three hours when Bree came into sight. They had seen no further sign of Orcs, but remained wary. Celeborn relaxed only a little. The main gate was closed as it properly should be this long after dark.

"Halt, who goes there!" The challenge was sharp as they approached.

"We are a party from Lothlorien. We wish to speak with Eirien and Caric." Celeborn called back, his voice calm.

"Who are you?" The voice held suspicion and the light of a lamp was suddenly shone in their direction.

Celeborn urged the horse forward and lowered his hood, exposing his flaxen-light hair and allowing his inner glow to brighten.

"Celeborn of Lothlorien, a friend of..."

"Wolraven! What in the blazes are you doing? Open the gates! Hang on, Cel, we will have you inside shortly. Well, get moving lad!" Celeborn had to smile. It sounded as if his friend had not changed one bit.

The large rough-timber doors swung open with a loud squeal of rusting hinges. Framed in the middle of the opening, stood Caric, his grin wide.

"Celeborn, it is good to see you. I did not think you would let those two young hellions get away with sneaking off like that! Come in. Wolraven will firstly apologise and then see to your horses." Caric ushered them in, behaving so much like Eirien normally did that it was astonishing.

"He does not need to apologise, Caric. He was doing his job after all. Mae govannen, Wolraven, it is good to see you once more. How are you keeping?" Celeborn greeted the younger human.

"W...welcome to Bree, My Lord." Wolraven looked a little stunned. There are more Elves, here, in such a short amount of time?

"It is Celeborn, Wolraven, just Celeborn. You have raised your son well, Mellon-nin. He is a credit to you and Eirien." He greeted his old friend as well. All the time he was looking around, expecting Eirien to suddenly appear of out of nowhere as was her wont.

"Thank you, Cel. Come in. You must be tired. I am sure that Briena will have some hot food waiting by the time we get there. We sort of expected you sometime soon. Let me hold your horse while you dismount, old friend." Caric hurried to Celeborn's side and noticed for the first time the two bodies resting over the horses behind them and the wounded among them. "Celeborn? What has happened?" He turned worried eyes to his friend.

"We met with some trouble. We have injured and dead to tend to, Caric. I need to speak with your Mayor and the Captain of the Guard." Celeborn was not looking forward to moving from the horse. His leg had stiffened during the ride and he hurt in more places than he cared to think of.

"Wolraven, go, wake Cadeyrn and Thunor. Tell them it is urgent and bring them to the house. Stop and get Gytha on your way back. Celeborn has injured that need tending and she is better than Irfan ever could be." He turned back to Celeborn. "Let us get you all out of the cold. Oh, I know you do not feel the cold, but my old bones do!"

"Old? You could never be old Caric. You are one of the youngest ones here!" Celeborn could not help but joke, but the smile faded as he moved his leg. Valar, but that hurt!

Caric had been watching him and noticed the slight grimace, then he realised just how pale Celeborn looked.

"You are among the injured! Why didn't you say so? Let me help you." Caric was not even aware that he had been joined by Ivorhen. The Imladris Captain was eager to help, even if he did see two images of Lord Celeborn and his head throbbed painfully. "Thank you." Caric smiled at the dark-haired Elf with the bandaged head as they practically lifted the Lord of Lothlorien off of his horse without him moving a muscle and with no time to complain.

"There you are, Hir-nin. Get your balance." Ivorhen tried to reassure Celeborn, but he too was worried at just how wan the silver-haired Elf Lord looked.

"I am well, Ivorhen. You are injured yourself." Celeborn hissed when his leg was jarred as he was set on his feet. More pain seemed to be spreading from areas he had not been aware of.

"I have asked for the birthing woman to come and help. Bree currently does not have a healer and she is the next best thing. She has worked with Elrond in the past." Caric hurried to reassure them that she knew her job.

"If she has worked with Elrond then she has my full trust." They finally began moving as Celeborn spoke and then, to his horror and embarrassment, his leg gave way beneath him. Only the fact that Captain Ivorhen and Caric were still holding onto him saved him from falling to the ground.

"Celeborn? What is it?" Caric made them stop.

"Is it your leg, Hir-nin?" Ivorhen asked.

"Yes, but also my ankle and knee. It pains me more than expected." Celeborn could not even put the offending limb to the ground.

"Take the weight off it. Lean on me." Caric was thinking hard about how they would get Celeborn to the house.

"I will carry you, Hir Celeborn." Ivorhen would not take no for an answer.

"I can..."

"Hir-nin, I promised the Lady Galadriel I would take care of you!" Ivorhen sounded more concerned by the minute.

Celeborn wanted to laugh at the fear in the Captain's eyes. His beloved could do that; instill this fear of failing her. The fact that she would blame Celeborn and not Ivorhen was beside the point. His gentle lady could scare the innocent with just a smile. If he did not hurt so much this would be most amusing.

"Very well, I would not wish you to garner Galadriel's wrath." He was joking but it hit home to him at that moment that he had not contacted her to let her know that he was alright. She would have his head. He groaned aloud.

It was all that Ivorhen needed to hear and with one swift move he picked up a very surprised Celeborn. "Which way, Hir-nin?" He asked Caric.

"Our gatehouse is nearer but my home would be better suited to care for your wounded. Your men will follow us?" He was already leading the way.

"Aye, we will not leave Hir Celeborn."

In a low voice Celeborn spoke to Ivorhen. "You can put me down, I am alright." Celeborn blushed with embarrassment and was only thankful that it was long after dark and there were no townsfolk in the street to see this.

"No, Hir-nin, your injuries are more serious than I realised and I believe we are almost there." Ivorhen could see a small group of six people apparently waiting for them.

Wolraven waved for them to come. Ivorhen needed no urging and hurried towards them.

"Lord Celeborn?" Wolraven was concerned. He had already sent Gytha into the house to help Briena prepare beds and hot water for the injured.

"He is injured, 'Raven. I did not realise it before. In the house everyone, now!" It was not lost on the Elves that even the Mayor and Captain of the Bree Guard did as Caric ordered.

Soon they were all either standing, or lying on the beds that Briena had made ready, or sitting at the long table in the middle of the main room of the house.

Ivorhen blinked. Hadn't there been more Edain than this outside? He had seen six waiting, but where had they all gone? He shook his head in bemusement and winced as his head flared with pain once more. Briena noticed it straight away.

"You are injured as well, my Lord. Come, sit, and I will take a look at your head while Lord Celeborn is tended by our healer." Ivorhen found that he could not argue with the pretty human elleth in front of him and allowed himself to be seated on a chair pulled out from the table. He was suddenly exhausted and dizzy at the same time. He could not seem to focus his eyes, so he closed them.

Celeborn hissed as the healer pulled aside the cloak that he had managed to keep over his leg. With his leggings so badly torn, he had hoped to protect the leg and a bit of dignity. There was a murmur of shock as they saw the state of his leggings. The grey material was a darker colour where the blood had dried, not all of it his.

"I do not have time for this. I have news for the Mayor!" Celeborn tried to brush the healer to one side.

He found himself on the end of a glare from the hardy Edan woman with dark but greying hair. The glare was worthy of both Galadriel and Elrond. "I will see to this now. You can talk to the Mayor as I work, but I will tend your wounds and I will not take no for an answer."

"Very well." Celeborn knew when he had already lost the argument.

"Celeborn this is Cadeyrn our Mayor. Cadeyrn this is Lord Celeborn of Lothlorien. The two Elves you saw earlier are his grandsons." Caric introduced the two.

"And fine young Elves they are too! It is a pleasure to meet you, I have heard a lot about you from Caric and Eirien." Cadeyrn bowed low to Celeborn with an ingratiating smile plastered on his face.

"Hannon le, yes they are. They are one of the reasons I am here. I thank you for looking after them." He smiled at Caric with relief.

"You are welcome, my friend you know that, both you and Elrond have done more than that for me and mine, even Thranduil, bless him." Caric could clearly recall too many times in the past when they had aided his family, actually.

"Carnen an gwend, Caric. You are our friends. That is what friends do." Celeborn turned to the Mayor. "This is your Captain of the Guard?"

"Yes, this is Thunor." Cadeyrn jumped in quickly, stepping in front of Caric as he spoke.

"You need to call your men to arms. There are large numbers of Orcs and Wargs moving tonight. The fell creatures seem to be heading directly for Bree. We have encountered two separate groups this evening." Celeborn had to grit his teeth as the healer began to pull at the bandages that were now stuck to his leg.

"Orcs? Heading for Bree? How preposterous!" The Mayor openly scoffed at the thought, waving his hand as if shooing away flies.

"Where do you think these wounds come from? Or our dead? Yes, we have dead and if not for Captain Ivorhen's timely intervention, I would not be sitting here as we speak but would be counted among their sad numbers. Ai!" He could not help the exclamation as the last of the bandage was removed. It smarted.

Celeborn glowered at Gytha. It was lost on the healer. She was looking at his leg with shock. He followed her look and sat staring at it, a little stunned. Caric also gave a cry of shock.

"You will not move from that bed until I give you leave to. You have done some serious damage to your leg. What happened?" Gytha gently began to examine the swollen leg.

"I was caught beneath my horse when it was toppled by a Warg. Then I fought and killed an Orc, but not before he cut me." Celeborn told the simple truth. "Unfortunately my horse was then killed beneath me. My leg was trapped under it again as my horse fell. I landed on a blade, an Orc dagger." Celeborn indicated each injury as he mentioned them while Gytha continued her examination of his leg

This was just a Birthing Woman? She acted more like a trained healer and her touch was gentler than many Edan healers he had seen.

Celeborn's leg was swollen to almost twice its normal size. Bruising had risen from the knee upwards, though bruises had blossomed on other parts of his leg as well. The wounds themselves, though, were cleaner than they had been. The white skin of his leg shined where it stood out from the dark Orc blood that had dried on him. Just the thought made his flesh crawl. His knee looked red. Why would his knee look red?

Gytha gave a sigh. "You should have removed your boot at the time. Your foot is too swollen to do so now. I will have to cut the boot off." She was already reaching for the blade in her own pack. She sliced carefully, slipping a finger under the leather to peel it away from the skin and cutting in short motions so she didn't accidentally cut her patient.

Celeborn sighed with relief as the pressure of the boot was removed. That was much better. He had not realised it was part of the discomfort he was feeling.

"Caric, I need some ice, or at least something cold to get this swelling down and cushions or pillows, anything to raise this limb. The foot is too swollen and so is the knee." Gytha was still probing the ankle, yet so gently that Celeborn barely felt it.

"We have some ice." Briena spoke up. "I will get some, give me a moment. Stay there Master Elf. I am not finished with you yet!"

Ivorhen had opened his eye, the one eye that he dared to open, trying to defeat his double-vision. His head was spinning and he had found, to his dismay, that he had not helped it by closing his eyes. He could not move if he tried, the chamber was spinning too much.

His eye closed against his will.

"You have four wounds?" Gytha was undoing the incredibly mucky bandage on Celeborn's lower leg.

"Aye, the blade went through and out the back of the thigh." Celeborn winced. The wound on his lower leg was tender.

"Then, there are truly Orcs?" Cadeyrn did not want to believe this. "Orcs, heading this way?" This could be disastrous. He wasn't ready for this.

"I did tell you." Celeborn was quickly losing patience with the Mayor. He sounded like a fool.

"But how many? We have to prepare!" The mayor looked around for the Captain.

"I will call out the men. How large a force do you estimate we may face, My Lord?" Captain Thunor had little time for the Mayor either. He was useless in a crisis and tended to panic when faced with a major decision.

"The two parties had more than thirty Orcs and Wargs each. I would expect a large party. The Song is thick with warning." Celeborn winced once more as Gytha probed the swollen wound in his lower leg.

"I will go and organise the men. Thank you for the warning, My Lord. This has brought us some valuable time. 'Raven, I will need your help!" Thunor called to his friend.

"You always need my help. How many times do I have to tell you I am no longer a member of the Home Guard?" Wolraven growled, though he stepped up beside Thunor readily enough.

"But you are the best non-member of the Home Guard that I have. If you had not been so heroic and got yourself injured you would still be a member. So humor me my friend. To me you are and always will be a member, no matter what some idiots say!" He glowered in the general direction of the Mayor.

"You are the Captain." There was amusement in Wolraven's voice. Oh, he knew what Cadeyrn though about him and his family. The fact that his mother had run the nasty little incompetent healer, Irfan, the Mayor's friend, out of Bree would not help, but he was only one silly little man and they could, would (and often did) ignore him.

"Aye, and you had better remember that, or I will make your life miserable." They were laughing together as they left the room.

Caric watched them go with a wistful look on his face. He would never forget the day Captain Thunor had brought Wolraven home, badly injured. Irfan had been drunk when he attended. The useless sot told them he was not needed, the wound was not serious enough he said.

They had almost lost Wolraven that night. Only Eirien's training with Elrond had saved him. The lingering effects of that wound had ruined his career in the Home Guard and had built up tension in the already frosty relationship with Irfan. None of them would ever forgive Irfan for the lack of care and duty he had shown that night.

To see Thunor calling for Wolraven's help was both touching and sad. If he had been able to continue in his position in the Home Guard, Wolraven would have steadily risen in the ranks. Of that, Caric had no doubt.

"Does this hurt?" Gytha asked and a hiss caught Caric's attention.

"How bad is it, Gytha?" Celeborn's leg looked worse by the minute, still swelling as it was, but then it would likely heal as quickly, given Celeborn's Elven healing abilities.

"Well, he won't be putting his foot to the floor for a couple of days, Elf or no. Both the knee and the ankle are damaged. The lower wound is infected and needs a good cleaning. Whoever stitched these wounds knew what they were doing, mind." Gytha was musing to herself.

"That was done by Captain Ivorhen, Elrond taught him." Celeborn nodded to the very ill-looking Captain of the Imladris Guard.

"He learnt well, I will take a look at him once I have finished here. He looks a little green." Gytha noted almost absently.

"He has a head injury, a deep wound to his forehead." Celeborn was worried too. Ivorhen had not looked this bad earlier.

"That would be the reason he looks nauseous." Gytha went back to cleaning the wound on Celeborn's calf.

"Caric, where are my grandsons and Eirien? I would have expected her to have been in the thick of things here, helping." Celeborn needed something to take his mind off of the pain. Some pain herbs would have been a nice addition.

"They left, last evening. Eirien went with them to help as Elrohir was injured." Caric was reluctant to tell Celeborn that.

"Injured!" Celeborn lurched up in the bed, concern clearly written on his face. Gytha lightly pushed him back down.

"Aye, he had a vision and would not waken. They were attacked by Orcs, perhaps forerunners to the ones that you met. Elladan decided to get him here as soon as possible. It took some time, but Elrohir woke and took some sweetened tea and a bit of the Miruvor that Elrond had left here some time ago." A movement caught his attention from the corner of his eye. "Where do you think you are sloping off to?" His voice was suddenly hard.

Cadeyrn stopped and gulped, he had hoped that they had forgotten about him. He had things he needed to see to before the Orcs arrived, Important Things.

"I need to get back to my office and set things into motion." He pulled himself up and pushed out his chest in self-importance.

"Your office? There will be no one there. They will all be helping out with the guards. That is the Town defence plan, as well you know. Why do you need to go to your office?" Caric was suspicious and concerned. Nothing this foul little man did could really surprise him.

"There are important papers that will need to be moved to a place of safety. I thought it would be..."

"Ah, yes, you mean all your bribery and blackmail notes? Oh, you didn't think we would know about them? Everyone knows what you are up to." Caric told the stunned Mayor.

"How dare you spread such false rumors! I will have you for this, Caric! This time you have gone too far!" Cadeyrn was furious. No one could know, least of all this simple-minded gate keeper.

"Too far? Me? It was not I who declared Irfan the 'official' Town Healer and then ignored or excused his incompetence, no matter who he hurt. It was not I who blackmailed the Herbalist into providing free herbs and more bribes and threats to keep him in Bree when he protested the position. It would not surprise me if you knew more about the Orcs as well." Caric watched as Cadeyrn's face slowly became ashen.

"I will not tolerate these lies. I will not be held here in your presence or that of your foul offspring!" With that he stomped from the room.

"I have wanted to say those things for so long. Thank you Caric, for finally having the guts to do so." Gytha grinned up at him from her seat next to Celeborn on the bed.

"What is all this shouting about? We have injured here!" Briena looked angry as she stepped from the storeroom.

"That was only our illustrious Mayor leaving. Did you bring the ice?" Gytha asked over her shoulder.

"Aye, it is one thing we have stored in plenty after the long winter. The cellar is full of it. Here you are." Briena sat a wooden bowl containing several large chunks of ice next to Gytha. "How is Lord Celeborn?"

"Caric did you say Elladan and Elrohir were attacked by Orcs?" Celeborn had found the little scene with Caric and the mayor interesting, but he was worried. Why had no one mentioned they were attacked earlier?

"Attacked by Orcs? Da, what have you been saying? They were not attacked by Orcs. Elrohir was just unconscious from the vision." Briena was watching her father with sharp eyes.

"N...no Orc attack? I am sure there was an Orc attack. Why else..." Caric's eyes widened. "I did it again, didn't I?"

"Indeed you did, Da. You haven't really rested since Ma left. Not even sat down, really. You were at the gate all last night. You are exhausted and if there is going to be an Orc attack, of which I have no doubt, you need to rest." She crossed her arms and looked at her father in a pose so reminiscent of Eirien that it was almost as if his wife was there in front of him.

"I have no time and more than enough to do." He turned to Celeborn, his face red but resigned. "I am sorry, my friend. I am getting muddled with my old age. It would appear that there was no Orc attack on the two boys. They left this evening with Eirien. Elrohir was riding with Elladan, in case he had another vision when they were riding. I am sorry to have worried you."

"That is alright, Caric. As long as they are safe, that is all I am concerned about. I agree with Briena, though. You should rest. There will be plenty of time before the Orcs attack. Our group will support your fighters." Celeborn laid back again, his leg still throbbing though Gytha had applied the ice, wrapped in cloths, to various places on his leg.

"I need to get you some herbs now, my Lord. You best not move from there." Gytha stood, eyeing Celeborn meaningfully while she dried her hands. She turned to Caric. "That can be your job. If he moves one inch from the bed, I will make you regret it, Caric. That leg is too injured to take weight."

"I will do as you say, Gytha." Caric knew from old that he could not win against the healer. And sitting down suddenly seemed a good idea.

"Good, I will take a look at that poor Elf with the sore head now. Briena, have you checked him over?"

The two women moved away from the amused men-folk. Caric leaned in to whisper. "If I were you, Cel, I would not move. I would like to live to see the Orcs when they attack."

The sudden sound of someone being sick made Caric jump and they turned in time to see the sorry sight of Captain Ivorhen leaning against the table, retching.

Gytha was suddenly in charge. As soon as his retching had subsided, the older woman and Briena carried Ivorhen, who was moaning weakly, over to the bed and laid him beside Celeborn. Gytha's greying hair was not yet a sign of a weakened body.

"Someone put out some of the candles! Briena, I need hot water both in a goblet and in a bowl. I think we are dealing with a nasty concussion here. I need my bag of herbs against sickness." The other elves in the room moved to clean the mess and blew out several of the candles.

Celeborn called out. "My pack is near the door, I see. It contains an herb that will work faster than any of yours. Briena, if you will bring it, saes, I will prepare the herb for him."

"Very well." Gytha said nothing more, but bent to look in the Captain's eyes. It worried her that an Elf did not protest at being moved in the manner that he had been. No self-respecting Elf she had ever met would give in that easily and he had been so limp. The left eye was slower in reacting to the light and the pupil was a few sizes smaller than the right. "He has a very nasty concussion, at the very least." He also seemed to be on the verge of passing out entirely.

Briena reached Celeborn with his bag and he opened it to bring out the herbs he needed. He took two out. One he placed in his own mouth to chew for the pain and the other was the herb for Ivorhen. He crushed it in his hands and beckoned Gytha closer to him.

"Blow this gently in his face. It will be breathed in next time he inhales. It works quite quickly." Celeborn made certain the entire amount of the powdered herb was safely transferred to her hands.

Gytha nodded. As she turned back to him, Ivorhen moaned slightly. She quickly blew the herb gently into the pallid face. He moaned once more and she watched fascinated as the herb seemed to vanish in front of her eyes.

She brushed her hands so that any remnants were gone. She then reached to remove the blood-stained bandage around his head. The cut was raised and still bleeding sluggishly when she uncovered it.

It sent alarm bells ringing in Celeborn's head. "Poison?" It was all he could gasp out. Ivorhen had been more worried about him than about himself and did not have his wound cleaned properly.

"No, just infection I think. The blow he received must have been very hard to cause this." The wound was not only raised but jagged as if the knife had been jerked as it fell or had a nicked edge, or both.

"I believe you are right. I have some Athelas in my pack." Celeborn was already reaching for it once more.

"Kingsfoil? Good, that will help." Gytha was already washing the wound, making certain that it really was thoroughly cleaned.

"Briena, if I could have a bowl and some warm water and a knife, I will prepare this for Gytha." The two healers were already working hard at their respective chores. Caric watched worriedly. He did notice though that Celeborn was being sure not to move his leg. His lips were pulled into a thin line. Whatever Celeborn had taken, it apparently had not helped his pain much, if any.

"Do you have any more herbs for the pain in there, Cel? I can make you the tea. I can't leave you in this much pain." Caric offered.

"I will be well. The herb will begin to work soon. I wonder what is happening outside?" Celeborn wished he had an idea what was happening. He really needed to talk with Wolraven and the Captain again.

"I don't know, they will tell us eventually." As the gatekeeper, he would be one of the first to know what their plans were.

"That is not good enough. Gildor?" Celeborn looked around for the young scout.

"Yes, Hir-nin?" The blonde warrior hurried forward.

"I want you to take another with you and scout the area. I want numbers of Orcs and Wargs and location. We need to move the children and women to shelter before the Orcs can reach the town. Caric, is there a place they can go that is safe for them? Oh, and Gildor, before you leave, find Wolraven and Thunor. I need to speak with them." Celeborn was already thinking ahead.

"Of course, Hir-nin." Gildor bowed before motioning to another elf who hurriedly followed him.

"There is a sturdy barn that is rarely used for more than storage. It is far enough away from the main town for it not to be a target." Caric was thinking of the layout of Bree and this would be the best place to hide the women and children. It had been utilized in this manner before.

"Good. Do you have parchment and quill? I need you to show me how the town is laid out. We need to put plans into motion. Gytha how is Ivorhen?" He looked over at the healer as Caric moved to get the paper, quill and ink.

Gytha got right to the point. "The wound is deep, almost scored the bone. It needs suturing as well. If I did not know the circumstances, I would say that someone tried to take his head off. He will not be fit to fight anytime soon."

"He will need to be moved. All of the injured that you feel cannot fight will be moved. Is there anyone in your house of healing?" Celeborn was aware that he would be one of those who would be moved. Still, he could use his arms and his bow, if it came to it.

"Not at this moment. To be honest, most of the folks around here tried to stay away from the house of healing and the last healer as much as they possibly could." Gytha's smile was sardonic, as was her tone.

"He was that bad?" Celeborn asked.

"Worse than that." Caric had returned with the paper and sat back down beside Celeborn to begin his work. He thanked the Valar that Elrond had taught him his letters all those years ago. It would come in handy now. One day he would thank his friend once more. "Eirien ran him out of town this afternoon when he tried to bleed Elrohir without even looking at him."

"He did what!" Celeborn surged forward as anger filled him at the words. He knew of some of the Edain healing practices and they were completely and utterly barbaric. Only the pain from his leg stopped him.

"Easy, Cel, he did not get the chance. Eirien would not let him near Elrohir. As I said, he is no longer in Bree." Caric bent and began to sketch the layout of the town, muttering to himself. "If we're lucky, the Orcs will have him."

The door opened and the Imladris soldier, Mirien, entered the room and moved solemnly to Celeborn's side. "The horses have been seen to, Hir-nin, and our dead have been laid out." He swallowed. It was always hard to do that with friends and colleagues.

"Hannon-le, Mirien. I am sure that their families will thank you for doing that service. Their names will be added to the roll of honour. I will speak to Naeron's family when we return to Lothlorien. It is hard I know." Celeborn gravely thanked the warrior for his efforts.

"You knew them?" Briena looked up from where she was helping Gytha.

"Yes. We have worked together for many years." Celeborn smiled at her sadly. "I bounced Naeron on my knee as an Elfling. His parents will be devastated. Pathon was alone in Imladris. At least, he had no immediate family left this side of the Sundering Sea. The Imladris Guard was his family. We will honour and miss him." He was aware that Briena's eyes had filled with tears. "Are you alright, Briena?"

"Yes, but it is so sad that he has no family here. I am glad that he has you." She sniffed softly.

Caric had risen at the sight of her tears and crossed to his daughter's side to pull her into a comforting hug. "It is not like Wolraven, Briena, and he has us to help him."

"What happened with Wolraven?" Celeborn was surprised at this turn in the conversation. They had heard nothing about a problem with Wolraven.

"You know that he was married?" Caric checked to make certain that his son was not in the room. They did not like to speak about this with him present.

"No." Celeborn was surprised.

"Wolraven married three years ago. A wonderful young lady was Ethalyn. We all loved her." They had all paused to listen to Caric. He in turn was trying to comfort Briena as she tried to compose herself.

"Loved her? What happened?" Gytha continued to treat Ivorhen in silence. She knew this sad tale all too well.

"Wolraven was out on patrol with the Bree Guard. They were attacked by Orcs and he received a serious head injury. He was brought back here unconscious. Ethalyn often cared for some of the smaller children while their parents were ill or worked, we did not know it at the time but there was an illness doing the rounds. Ethalyn was pregnant, two months. When she saw 'Raven brought home, she collapsed." Caric trailed off as memories flooded his mind.

"Irfan came, but he was drunk." Briena's voice was hard. "He said that there was nothing wrong with him that needed his attentions and that 'Raven would wake up in his own time. It took him three weeks. The shock of seeing Wolraven brought home like that caused Ethalyn to sicken and lose the baby. Irfan actually did work to try to save her and probably would have, but infection took her." Tears were running down her pale face.

Gytha snorted at that comment. "For once, he tried, but only because she was pretty."

"Aye, anyway, by the time Wolraven woke up, we had buried both his wife and babe. Irfan hadn't treated his head injury. Though we did what we could, it left him with seizures, much like the one Elrond had here with his vision. Because of that, our esteemed Mayor declared he could no longer be trusted to be a member of the Home Guard. In one fell swoop, Irfan and his friend…" The words were hissed by Caric. "…took everything away from my son."

"That is why he did not recall who I was." Celeborn's voice was quiet and thoughtful.

"Aye, I'm afraid so. He has memory loss and he is terribly moody at times. It has been so hard to see him like this. And for them to turn around and tell him they have graciously allowed him a position as my 'helper' in compensation!" Caric was still angry at their treatment of his son.

"That is insensitive!" Celeborn growled.

"Aye, it was more like an insult, and it is all because of that filth Irfan and then Cadeyrn covered up for him, as usual."

"They covered it up?" Celeborn was getting angrier by the minute. The Mayor could condone this?

"Aye, they covered that up, and more." The opening of the door effectively ended the conversation as Wolraven and Thunor entered.

"Good, I'm glad you are back. I need to speak with you. Caric has given me a map of the town. We need to move the woman, children and injured. He has said that this barn..." Celeborn had captured their attention to give Caric and Briena the chance to regain their composure.

The door opened again and Gildor entered with Athlon close behind him. They looked both worried and urgent. Athlon immediately went to Briena's side.

"Hir-nin, the Orcs are all around the town. Their numbers must be at least three hundred, if not more. The Wargs are concentrated at the front of the town by the gates." Gildor hurried to report.

"As I feared. They will wait until they think that the town has settled for the night. I am sure they believe that they are unnoticed. That will buy us some time and give us an advantage. Do you have access to any type of blasting powder? The Dwarves use it to burrow underground." Celeborn could see the confusion on the Edain's faces. Apparently they had never heard of it. "I see you do not know that of which I speak. No matter, there are other ways. Let me think."

Suddenly, he had a new plan. "I noticed as we came in that there were houses on their own and away from the others, by the green. We need alcohol from the Prancing Pony, anything that will burn, wine, ale, oil, anything, as much as can be gathered. Thunor, the houses, are they wooden?"

"I will organise the alcohol and let the men know that the women and children need to be moved, now." Wolraven stood.

"'Raven? Be careful." Caric looked up at his son.

"I will, Da." There was more life in the brown eyes than Caric had seen in three years. It brought a flare of hope to Caric. Maybe his son was still there, the son who lived for adventure and loved working for the guard.

Wolraven left with a small wave to Briena. Athlon gave Briena a quick embrace and followed Wolraven.

"I have some of his medicine ready, Da." Briena's voice was quiet.

"That is a good idea." Caric turned to Celeborn. "Excitement like this can bring on the seizures. Elrond sent us the medicine, it helps."

"Good, I am glad that it helps. Gather all who can shoot a bow. When the alcohol arrives it is to be spread over the houses, soaked if possible. When the Orcs attack, the houses can be set aflame. That will panic the Wargs and we can pick off the Orcs in the resultant light. You have men who can shoot?"

Thunor nodded at Celeborn's words. "Aye, we do. 'Raven was one of our best marksmen. I cannot forget or believe what the mayor has done to him."

"I can shoot." Briena spoke up.

"No, you will be needed to help the injured." Caric tried to stop her before she even started.

"Would you have stopped Ma from helping?" Briena could not believe that she was hearing this.

"No, but that is different."

"What is so different? I have no babes and this is my town. I will not hide away like a scared child when I know I can do something to help defend it. I am as good a shot as 'Raven. He can still shoot. Just because that...scum decided he could not be a Guardsman does not mean he has to hide with the women. I am sure he will find some way of being out there with his men and friends tonight." Briena spoke with certainty in her voice.

"I would be happier if..." Caric began.

"No, Da, you do not understand. I will be fighting alongside you. I am going to go and change and then get my bow. I need to make certain that the arrows are good. Don't try to stop me Da. Ma will have harsh words for you otherwise. You both knew this would come." She glared at her father before leaving the room.

"You cannot prevent her from doing what she has trained for, mellon-nin. It would not be fair to her. We will make sure that she is safe." Celeborn spoke softly from his bed.

Gytha snorted once more. "You, my Lord? And what do you think you will be doing? You are going nowhere!"

"I know, but that does not mean that I cannot be armed, in case." Celeborn liked this healer.

"True. There, he is all finished." She had just rebandaged Ivorhen's head wound after suturing the long gash. "Now, you are in pain and you…" She turned to Caric. "…are exhausted. Plans are underway. We likely have at least two hours before they even begin to attack if past experience holds true. You will lie down and rest, now. I will waken you when the time is right."

"Gytha, I can't. We have too..."

"Yes you can, Da." It was Wolraven, returned from the Prancing Pony with others of the Home Guard. Their arms were laden with wine bottles and casks of ale. "We can sort the rest out. If you're going to fight, then you need rest. If not, I will knock you out myself."

Caric would and should have taken umbrage at this from his son, but this was so like the old Wolraven, he found that he could not scold him. He had wanted to see his son back like this for so long.

"Very well, I will rest, but if you do not waken me I will never let you forget it." Caric glowered at all in the room.

There was room yet on the large bed, even with Celeborn and Ivorhen on each side of it. "Here, rest with us." Celeborn smiled at his friend who nodded and did so, stretching across the foot of the bed carefully so as not to jar Celeborn's leg.

"What do you want us to do with all this?" Wolraven asked.

---

Soon, the entire town was mobilised. The alcohol and a fair amount of straw had been spread around the now-abandoned houses. The inhabitants had been swiftly moved to safety. The women and children were safely hidden away. Only Celeborn and Caric were in the gatehouse. Celeborn had asked to be moved there. He wished to be near the fighting before they expected the attack to happen.

That had not gone down well with Gytha, but they had persuaded her eventually to give Celeborn crutches so that he could be near the middle of the fight and direct their men. Her experience had led her to expect such a thing after all, but she didn't have to like it. Blasted stubborn menfolk!

The town lay shrouded in silence as they all settled in to wait.

Only one house showed signs of habitation. The Mayor's office was brightly lit as Cadeyrn made ready to leave. He had already sent his family away, two days ago to be exact, to stay with friends in the next town. He would not have them here, not now.

He had also sent a lot of his paperwork and wealth with them. But there were still some things that needed to be destroyed. He dare not risk any of it being discovered, just in case, especially when he returned to Bree, or what would be left of Bree.

With luck, Caric and his brood of hangers-on would be killed and the last of his resistance would be gone. They would hail him as a hero and welcome him back with open arms.

He walked into his office, his own inner sanctum. Pulling the chain from underneath his vest, he undid the chain and removed the silver key that sat there. Smiling to himself, he opened the locked drawer, the drawer that only he had access to.

He pulled the handle to open it, only to stop in shock. The drawer was empty. All the papers that he needed to burn were gone. His heart began thudding and he looked around wildly. Who could have? Caric! It had to be that scum. Well, he had him now. He would not get away with breaking into the Mayor's office and stealing official... He groaned aloud. There was no way he could accuse Caric of stealing these particular papers. How could he explain how he had them to start with?

"Lord Cadeyrn?" He jumped, only to relax back and push the drawer closed. It was Brennus, his own personal clerk.

"Yes, Brennus?" He made himself sound stern and official.

"I did not expect you to be here tonight, Sir. Should you not be with the Town Elders looking to the defence of Bree?" Brennus sounded puzzled.

"I have just come from the meeting. We needed to gather the Maps. I know where we keep them and could readily put my hands on them." He lied glibly.

"But the maps are not here." Brennus knew every inch of this office and not one map was kept here unless it was in 'the drawer'.

"I moved some this morning. Is your family safe?" He reached for the old parchment that he had brought with him, just in case.

"Aye, they have been moved. I will be joining the fight. I will forever be grateful for my father insisting that I be taught to shoot a bow as well as learn my letters for bookwork. I can at least be of some help." He had no doubt of where Cadeyrn would be, hiding, saving his own sorry hide.

"I suggest we get on our way then. I have the maps." They walked out of the office together. The paperwork would have to wait. There was a good chance it may just disappear with the wreck of Bree anyway.

They parted ways just as they reached Caric's house. Brennus hurried to join his friends and defend his home.

Cadeyrn waited until Brennus was out of sight and then doubled back on himself. How could these people be so stupid? He made his way for the small door that only he knew about. He had recently paid well to have it secretly added to the wall and then had the carpenter disposed of. Not even his wife knew about it.

Cadeyrn only relaxed when he left sight of the Town of Bree. He would not be there when it was attacked. He would only return when it was safe to do so.

He made for the meeting point and waited. He heard heavy foot falls that told him he was not alone. He looked around and somehow kept the disgust off his face. It would not do to irritate these things.

"Do they suspect?" The Orc was huge and smelt foul.

"No, they have no idea of what is going on. They think there is a..."

"Good, Master will be pleased with your work. Pity you will never meet him." The Orc sneered at him.

"I did not think I would, but once the Town is in his hands..."

"He will never enter here, have no fear of that. There is the worry that if you could so easily turn traitor to your own people, you would do so to our Lord." The sneer grew deeper, a dark glint growing in its yellow eyes.

"I would never... How could I...?" The urge to speak suddenly disappeared as pain flared through Cadeyrn's back. He looked down to see the point of a sword, filthy and nicked in places, protruding from his abdomen.

As the blade was cruelly jerked from his body, he soundlessly fell to the ground in a pool of his own gore. The Orcs standing over him laughed at his gullibility.

He was suddenly very glad he had not told them that the town had been warned that the Orcs were here and that they were prepared. He prayed with his dying breath that the Orcs would have a nasty surprise in store...

---

The square below was quiet and purposefully dark. Celeborn stood watching the gate below. He was leaning against the wall on his right leg to try and take the weight off his left which pulsed with a throbbing deep ache. His sword was strapped to his waist and his bow was to hand, his quiver ready and full on his back. The right hand crutch was leaning against the wall. He could get to his sword easily that way.

Caric looked over at him. Celeborn stood taught and erect. His back was so straight you could have used it to make a line. His left hand was clutched against the crutch, one of two signs that all was not well with his friend. The other was the ashen colour and the bunched muscles on the Elf's jaw. To Caric, those signs pointed to Celeborn being in a lot of pain.

"Cel, come and sit down. You look in pain and exhausted."

"We do not have time for that." Celeborn could see the men and Elves moving into position to wait. All had arrows that had been wrapped with linen and soaked with oil. Interspersed around the area were small fires that looked natural, all things being equal. The spring night held a damp chill that made Caric glad of his cloak and the small brazier nearby. The long harsh winter seemed reluctant to give up its grip on the land, even now.

"I was made to rest when I said that!" Caric pouted.

"Ah, but you, Mellon-nin, are still very young!" Celeborn could not resist the crack.

"Humph... I dread to think what that makes you. Ancient?" They both laughed at that.

"Ancient, and stubborn as any silly Man!" The voice came from behind them. It was Gytha. "I brought you this. It will help with the pain, but won't make you sleep. I will sort that out once this crisis is over." She handed the slightly steaming goblet to Celeborn then looked over to Caric. "You look better."

"Thanks, I feel it. I see you have your sword." Caric noted the presence of Gytha's weapon.

"You think that Briena will be the only woman fighting this night? I fought with you and Eirien all those years ago. I will do so now, or at least protect the women and children. I am on hand should Ivorhen need me as well." Gytha sounded smug as she reminded Caric of their joint past.

"Good, I would wish for no one better to protect them. Just get a few Orcs for Eirien if they get through that far." Caric knew his wife would wish that. Valar, he wished he knew that she and the boys were safe.

"That will not help the pain with you watching it in the goblet" She gave a small gently-derisive snort. "And you a healer!" Gytha had noted that Celeborn had not taken a drink yet. She pulled over a chair. "Sit, you can still see the gates from here, as well you know. And raise that leg! I need to get away before they attack. Stay safe, Caric, I would not like to be the one to have to tell Eirien that ill has befallen you." She loosened her sword and hurried from the Gatehouse.

"She is right, Cel." Caric's voice was soft. "If you wish to fight, drink that."

Celeborn had been quiet and pensive during their discussion of their loved ones.

"I will. Tell me, Mellon-nin, do you have any more Miruvor?" He was suddenly acutely aware that he had not been in contact with Galadriel.

"I do, brought it with me. You need to speak with Galadriel?" Caric turned to get the bottle.

"Yes, I have been remiss in contacting her again after the battle earlier. She will not be pleased with me." That drew a snort from Caric.

The tea was bitter and yet he drank it with relief as he looked around for a footstool. Caric read his mind and pushed the other chair in front of him. Though Celeborn had to use a hand to lift the swollen leg up and a groan escaped him, it was a relief to rest his leg in an elevated position. His foot was encased in the split remnants of his boot. The upper part had been trimmed away and the sides slit to fit over his swollen foot.

Once the tea was gone, he sat back with a sigh and closed his eyes.

/Galadriel/

/Cel! I was so worried! What happened? You are hurt/ Galadriel could feel his distress through their link.

/We were attacked by Orcs./

/Were you injured badly/ He could feelGaladriel's worry for him and it was heart-warming.

/Just a few cuts, nothing more. Elladan and Elrohir have already left Bree with Eirien in tow./ He moved her attention away from him.

/It is good to know that she is with them. Caric is well/

/Indeed he is. I hope it remains so. The darkness has spread. Orcs and Wargs have surrounded Bree. We are ready for them./

/I could feel the darkness growing.../ Her tone spoke of deep worry.

A new mental voice interrupted them, one they did not recognise. /The darkness may spread, but it will not avail/

/Who is this/ Celeborn demanded.

/Rest easy, old friend. It is I, Mithrandir. I have been told to advise you that Narya has a new Keeper and to make myself known to you. You may have sensed its use earlier Galadriel./ Mithrandir sounded both amused and exhausted.

/I did indeed, Mithrandir. All is well/ Galadriel had indeed been worried about the Ring's use, but had not wanted to make that plain.

/Elrond had been targeted with dire curses by a dark power. I had to use Narya to remove the curses. Even then, I believe I had the help of a higher source./

/Is he alright/ Celeborn was alarmed at the news that Elrond had been attacked in this manner.

/He sleeps now and will recover with time. Legolas will take longer to heal. Where are you/ Mithrandir was curious.

/I am in Bree. Galadriel remains in Fornost. Meleth, have you had any more dreams/ Celeborn had been too busy to ask Galadriel about the web dreams earlier.

/Just one. The web was stronger, not fully back to what it should be, but better. The dream seemed to bring hope. I do not understand the meaning./ Galadriel was still unsure of the symbolism of the dreams.

/We will understand the meaning in the fullness of time, Galadriel. We are not meant to understand it now." Mithrandir sounded thoughtful.

/You have also seen it/ Galadriel sounded shocked.

"Yes, I have. I, like you, do not understand yet, but we will. The dark power is angry this night. He has been thwarted in part of his plan./

/It has set an attack on Bree, but we are prepared./ Celeborn admitted.

/You must avail and win, Celeborn./ There was no doubt in Mithrandir's voice.

/We will do our best. The town is ready. They are massing now, I must go./ Celeborn already sounded distant.

/Be careful, Meleth. Speak to me as soon as you can/ Galadriel sounded tearful.

/I will, as soon as possible. Gerich veleth nín./

Celeborn groaned as he opened his eyes and the pain in his leg invaded his awareness once again, it had seemed to recede as he spoke with Galadriel and Mithrandir.

"Here, Cel, drink this. I must ask Elrond for more." Caric offered him a goblet full of Miruvor.

"I brought some with us. It is always handy to have." He took a sip. "What is happening?"

"They are gathering, none too quietly either. How they thought they would hide this is beyond me." Caric actually sounded amused.

"I know. They are hardly being quiet about it." The noise from outside the gate had been steadily rising as had the glow of fires that the Orcs had set.

"Better for us, mind you. Can you see anything?" Caric was peering through the mist that was steadily increasing. Indeed fell things were abroad this night.

"Their numbers are growing around the gate. The Wargs are uneasy, two have snapped at each other already. We can use that to our advantage." Celeborn allowed a pleased smile. The Orcs and their riders were hardly organised. "Wait they are... it is beginning. They have a battering ram."

"Good, we were expecting that. They are not going to like my little surprise." Caric sounded so smug that Celeborn turned to look at him in query. Caric just nodded to the gate. "Watch."

Eyebrow arched, Celeborn did just that. He was in time to see the small band of Orcs with the battering ram literally bounce off of the gate. They roared in deep displeasure.

"What, by Eru, just happened?" Celeborn was astounded. He never thought he would live to see the day...

"The last time they replaced the gates it was built to my stipulation. The Mayor was not told of the additions. We kept them from him." Oh yes, Caric really was pleased with himself.

"Additions?" Celeborn watched as the Orcs regrouped.

"Yes, my additions, sheets of iron behind the wood. We added bracing to the gateposts as well. It will not keep them out forever, they will get through, but it gives us more time."

"That is a wonderful idea. They are not happy about it." Celeborn could see that clearly, even through the misty dark.

"Good, again, that was the idea. If they are angry, they will not be as careful and then they will make mistakes." Caric drew his sword as he peered at the blurred mass in the darkness beneath him.

The next time the Orcs hit the gate, it made the chamber they stood in shudder, but the gate still held. The mumbles, growls and roars from the other side of the wall told them the plan was working.

"I think this may be a diversion. They are being too loud. I am glad we spread the men to watch. You are positive there is no other way into Bree?" Celeborn was worried. Something was niggling at his senses.

"No, no other way in. There has never been." Caric looked at him worriedly.

"I need to get a message to my warriors. Gildor?" The blonde warrior hurried to his side, his bow lax at his side, not that that meant anything. "Warn the others that all is not as it seems. I want them to be alert and ready for anything. Have someone patrol the wall."

"Of course, Hir Celeborn. I will return quickly." Another shudder shook the chamber.

Celeborn looked around the chamber. All was in place, with a large basket of arrows to one side. Several had been treated with oil and were ready to fire. The first shot to signal the men and elves to attack would come from him. He did not want the Orcs to be forewarned that all was not as they might expect.

It took ten or eleven blows until the wood of the gate gave way to reveal the now battered sheet of metal. It had been badly dented and was buckled in places. The Orcs began concentrating on places where the weakness in the metal showed. The Wargs held back, snarling and eager to go.

When the doors did fall, the Orcs stood back and let the Wargs go first. They bounded forward with yelps and roars of excitement. The laughing and cheering Orcs followed, they would enjoy the panic that they expected within.

What met them was a surprise all right. The Wargs were sniffing and whimpering. They had expected to find panicked humans. Instead they found an empty and dark town, with an odd smell about them that they did not like. It confused them.

"Wha's goin' on 'ere? Where's our meat?" One of the Orcs asked stupidly.

Not that they got a chance to answer, those behind them pushed forward and they had no choice but to move forward or be trodden under foot. The large, mean, foul-smelling Orc that had spoken with Cadeyrn grunted with surprise.

Its yellow eyes then widened as he caught scent of the alcohol fumes about him. "It's a trap..."

Before the last word was out of his mouth, a whoosh split the air and something thudded against his chest. He looked down at it stupidly. Then he slumped to the ale-soaked ground, the fire from the blazing arrow spread rapidly. The cry of "Hain dago!" rose loud and clear.

Within seconds, more arrows joined it and soon there was utter pandemonium. Dying Orcs and panicked Wargs with burning fur were everywhere. The Wargs snapped at anything that moved, including their own riders.

Celeborn stood at the window above the ruined gate-door firing off arrows faster than one could blink. Orc after Orc was brought down under his onslaught.

---

Over on the other side of Bree a small well-hidden door opened and a group of eight Orcs slipped in. They had been watching the Mayor for some time. Their Master did not trust him at all. They had been pleased to follow the stupid human's trail back to the town wall to find the hidden doorway. It would give them access, very handy.

They crept along the shadows, keeping eerily silent. They could hear the screams and yelps that signaled that the other orcs at the gate and their Warg mounts were dying in great numbers.

The Orc who led the way signaled the others, his sharp, yellow teeth gleaming in the light cast from the fires around them.

"They's gotta be 'ere somewhere." He hissed under his breath.

"I can't wait for a taste of human brat flesh!" The Orc beside him, Fletxth, stated with a grin. Drool ran unheeded down his chin.

"Ya has ta find 'em first!"

"And what is it that you are looking for, exactly?" A voice from above them made them jump and they all looked up, raising their swords to the ready.

Standing on a limb of a spreading elm tree looking at them with almost feral glee was a blonde Elf, his bow pulled back, ready to fire. The sight caused them all to growl in fury.

"Elf." Fletxth stated, spitting the word.

"You can tell?" Within a blink the Elf was gone and Fletxth was on the damp ground, his throat torn open by a single arrow.

Slet growled. Since when were there Elves in Bree? "Get that Elf! Bring him to me! I want his hair for my belt!" They were all moving, any pretence at hiding gone. He did not get a chance to say or do anything more. An arrow hit him in the back, sending him sprawling, never to rise again.

The other six Orcs never stood a chance and soon Gildor stood among them making sure they were all indeed dead, retrieving his arrows. He was impressed, he did not know how Hir Celeborn did it, but he had somehow known about this little doorway and had sent them to find and then guard it.

"Make sure there are no others around. Heh, I've always wanted to be an Orc belt." Gildor grinned sarcastically. The others with him, mostly men, laughed as they carried on their work.

---

Gytha frowned at the sounds heard through the thick door of the barn. The cries and howls were loud and frightening in the dark. The children were scared, very scared. Some of the youngest were crying, but some of the older children tried to comfort them.

She turned to look at a few of the women who were armed, as she was. They watched the windows, ready for any trouble that might present itself.

Ivorhen groaned again, taking her attention back to him. "Easy, young one. You have been injured. I am sure you have a banging headache."

All she got in answer was a fainter groan.

"Ivorhen? Can you open your eyes for me?" Gytha asked. She got no answer.

She sighed. She was beginning to get worried about this young Elf, well, she knew he wasn't young. He had accompanied Elrond on his last visit years ago. He should have awoken by now, not still be unconscious as he was.

"Orcs!" Caelie called from the window.

The door burst open before anyone could move.

"Brat flesh, and fresh!" The drool ran down the sides of the Orc's mouth as he took in the sight of children of all ages. It began to run its tongue over its lips in anticipation. "Urk!"

Caelie pulled her sword from the Orc's side and kicked it away. "Not if I can help it!"

Gytha stood. "How many?"

"A handful." She was ready for the next one, who stepped through the door too eagerly. Orcs could be so idiotic. He met the same end as the first. The sound of a window breaking followed by a scream warned them they were out of time.

Gytha whirled around, her sword in hand and ready. She blinked with surprise, one of the young lads, only nine years old, had a scythe in his hands and had coolly taken the head off the Orc that had tried to get to his little sister.

"Well done, Herrill. That was quick thinking." She did not have the chance to say more for Orcs were swarming in through the doors and windows, not stopping for anything.

A child's scream, shrill and full of fear, from behind her made her turn. One towering Orc had cornered a small dark-haired four-year-old girl, Tiera, beside the helpless form of Ivorhen. Unless she climbed over the wounded Elf-warrior she had nowhere to go.

Gytha tried to reach them, but she was too far away.

"Yummy fresh flesh. Your blood will be sweet to drink." Tiera shuddered at the words of the frightening monster, but could not bring herself to hurt the pretty Elf beside her. She had been sitting near him in the dark, captivated by his glowing skin.

The Orc laughed and reached over Ivorhen, his hand cruelly twisted her tunic as he pulled her towards him. The girl-child screamed again in fear. He halted half-way, his expression turned from gleeful to one of surprise.

"Get... your... filthy... hands... off... her." Ivorhen was panting by the time he finished, his eyes tightly squeezed against the pain. He could not let this filthy beast hurt a child, not one as pretty as her. His hand fell back as his strength left him. The sharp dagger he had felt for on his belt, stayed where it was in the Orc's chest. The Orc sank to its knees before slumping dead before the horrified green eyes of Tiera. She burst into tears and, before anyone else moved, threw herself across Ivorhen's chest. He caught her with a grunt of pain.

"How do you feel?" Gytha was determined to keep the Orcs away from the two on the pallet at her feet. After what she had just seen, she would not let Orcs anywhere near either of them.

"Bad... head." Ivorhen could not bring himself to let go of the small sobbing girl. He cradled her head against his neck so that she could not see what was happening around her.

"I'm not surprised." Gytha's reply was grim.

All around her the women, and many of the children, were fighting the Orcs using the barn's contents. It was used to store hay for winter and the farming tools they used in the fields around them during better weather. It meant that all the various tools could be used as weapons. The children were familiar with the tools because as soon as they were big enough to wield them, they were expected to help in the fields. It was just the way life was.

Gytha had just dispatched another Orc when a cry went up outside, a familiar cry. Wolraven had arrived with some of his men. She grinned. All this time since he had last served with the Guard and they were still his men. He would never feel any other way, she was sure.

It was soon much calmer in the barn. All the Orcs were dead, and no one in the barn had been killed, although there were injuries. Gytha was once more in the thick of things, taking care of the wounded while others calmed the children.

---

Celeborn finished off the orc before him with a grunt of effort and pain. His leg really was paining him. A warg, one of the last, took the Orc's place. Most of the Wargs had either taken flight at the sight of the flames or been killed.

They had been lucky. The Wargs had taken a few, Valar, a lot of the Orcs with them. Many of the Wargs turned on their riders and the orcs around them in the mayhem and panic. All they cared about was getting away from the flames, not who was before them. It saved the Elves and Men from having to face as many Orcs in battle.

At some point a light rain had started to fall. Not enough to put out the flames from the ruined houses, but enough to add to the dismal atmosphere.

The Warg was easy to finish with Caric's help. Celeborn was just about to relax when a cry of panic went up. He looked at Caric, puzzled, before he turned to see what was causing the uproar.

"Black Rider!" The cry was enough to freeze the blood of many of the men.

Black rider? Here? Then he recalled Mithrandir's words about Evil rising this night. He did not even think, just pulled an arrow, bound it with cloth and touched the flames to it. Without anyone realising what he had done, he sent the arrow unerringly in the direction of the Úlairë.

Both the Black Rider and its black mount screamed as the flames touched them where they stood, watching the attack. They had not moved nor taken part. The scream faded as they fled into the night.

That effectively ended the fighting since any Orc still standing turned and followed the Fell creature into the darkness.

Celeborn slumped, exhausted, against the tree he had backed against to fight. At some point, his leg had begun to bleed once more. He did not know when exactly, probably after he had dropped his crutches to fight unhindered.

"Are you injured, Cel?"

Celeborn looked up in time to see Caric limping towards him. He looked as exhausted as Celeborn felt.

"No, not really." A snort was the answer to that. "Are you injured?"

"A scratch is all." Caric was dismissive.

"If I believe that, Eirien will have my head. How have we done? Are there many that are injured?" Celeborn was looking around.

"We are checking now. Have you seen Wolraven or Briena?" Caric now sounded anxious.

"Not recently, no. I am sure they will be alright. Ah, Gildor, are you injured?" He had caught sight of the blonde warrior running toward them.

"Nay, Hir-nin. Wolraven is with Gytha in the barn, they are treating the wounded there. I last saw Briena at the Prancing Pony. They both looked to be unharmed. We have taken no further casualties." Gildor was pleased to see the relieved look on Caric's face.

"Thank you, it is good to know they are safe." He scowled at the look of pain on Celeborn's face. "I will need your help to get Cel here to the healer. I doubt he could move on his own and I am not sure I could help him on my own."

"I think that you might be right there, Caric. My leg is very painful." Celeborn did not think that he could move.

"Let me help you, Hir-nin." Gildor stepped forward and half-carried Celeborn through the ruined town.

The aftermath was not as bad as he had feared it would be. The remnants of the fires were being put out by the previous fighters. The rain would help keep it from spreading. Warg and Orc bodies were dragged out and piled up outside the town, to be burnt later in the day.

Caric and Celeborn were a little shocked when they came within sight of the barn. Lights burned inside and they saw that the door had been splintered and knocked from its hinges.

"They found the barn!" Caric tried to hurry, moving at a halting, limping run.

"Yes, Hir-nin, but they were repelled." Gildor called out, trying to reassure the weary human.

Caric took no notice. All he wanted was to make sure that the children were alright. He burst through the door and came to a shuddering halt. Relief made his shoulders slump and drew a sigh from him.

"Well, don't just stand there! We need help!" Gytha looked up from where she knelt tending to one of the injured men.

"Celeborn is injured." That was all that Caric could think of to say.

It earned him a sharp look from Gytha. "Caelie, take over here. It just needs dressing now. Where is he?" She stood and washed her hands in a bowl of water.

"He is coming. Gildor is helping him." Caric's eyes found Wolraven where he was helping and a little of the tension left his shoulders.

"He has accepted help? He must be hurt!" She hurried to the door, just in time to meet them coming in.

"Over to one of the beds!" Gildor picked Celeborn up and carried him to a nearby bed.

They had already brought in temporary beds for the injured and the children. Lanterns were lit and placed about. Plenty of blankets and covers were piled for making pallets in the straw as well. Braziers had even been set up and burned brightly for heat in this wet, cold night. The Orc bodies had been removed.

Gildor nodded. The minute that Celeborn was on the bed, he stood back, watching as Gytha began to check Celeborn over.

"That is the problem with you men, you have to be right and so darn stubborn! Look at the mess this leg is! You will not be moving from your bed until I say so. Until then you are under my care, do you understand?" She glowered at Celeborn.

"I understand and I will not argue with you." The walk to the barn had seemed to stretch on forever and had hurt him more than he cared to admit.

"You won't!" Gytha blinked at him in astonishment.

Celeborn shook his head, his brow creased with pain. "No. I will not. Could I have something for the pain?"

That simple request made Gytha move more than anything else could have. Even Caric looked alarmed.

"I will get you some and something to help you sleep. I think that you really need it."

Celeborn lay back against the pillow. He felt drained, more so than he had for some time. He shared a weary smile with Caric.

Caric in turn was looking around the barn, taking in who was here. One little girl was missing and his heart dropped. He stood unsteadily from where he had perched on the edge of Celeborn's bed and began to look around properly when he saw a sight to make him smile.

Ivorhen was asleep or unconscious on a bed near the middle of the barn, his eyes closed. He was not alone. For on the bed with him was the missing child, Tiera. She was snuggled close against the Elven warrior's side in the crook of his arm, her head resting against his chest. It looked as if nothing would tear her away from him. One grubby hand was by her mouth, the thumb between her pursed lips. Her face was pale and she had tear tracks down each cheek. It looked as if Tiera had been crying for some time, even now her breathing hitched in her sleep. Her other hand was wrapped so tightly around one of Ivorhen's dark warrior braids that her knuckles were white. Ivorhen himself looked content to hold the child safe within his arms.

Smiling, Caric limped back to Celeborn. Caelie had finished with bandaging the other wounded man. She and Gildor were helping make Celeborn more comfortable, removing his weapons and cloak, while Gytha was crouched near a brazier, preparing him the herb tea.

"She will not leave his side. He saved her from the Orcs." Caelie smiled at the adorable sight.

"He did?" Caric was amazed. Ivorhen looked in no condition to do anything.

"Yes, one of the Orcs had her, would have killed her, if not for the Elf."

"His name is Ivorhen." Celeborn's voice was weak and weary. He would possibly be asleep already if not for the pain.

"Thank you, my Lord, we had no idea of his name and Gytha has not had time to tell us. Ivorhen killed the Orc and then held her tightly to prevent her seeing the death around her. Many were frightened this night." She looked around at the sleeping children. A lot of them had needed sleeping herbs, as had a few of the women.

"We will need more hot water!" Gytha was back. "Caelie, can you make sure that there is a fire set up outside purely for that? Sit down, Caric, before you fall down and injure yourself!" She snapped at the Gatekeeper.

"You are injured, Da?" Wolraven was suddenly beside Caric.

"Just tired, Son." Caric did not even have the energy to look up.

"That is why you are bleeding, Da? Let me look. Sit down." There was a strength and purpose to Wolraven's voice that Gytha had not heard in three long years. She watched as he guided his father over to the bed next to Celeborn.

Caric sighed with annoyance, but let his son help him. "Are you hurt?" It actually felt good to sit down and he tried not to sigh with relief.

"Not a scratch, Da, not a scratch. That felt good!" Wolraven sounded as if he had totally enjoyed himself in the fight.

Caric looked into his son's face and a look of wonder crossed his exhausted features. "Wolraven? Son?"

"Father? What is wrong?" Wolraven was worried at his father's reaction.

"How do you feel?" There was almost a glow to Wolraven's face and his eyes actually sparkled.

"I feel good, very good." Wolraven answered. "Better than I have for some time."

"How can this be?" Caric winced as Wolraven pulled up the bloodied remnants of his breeches leg.

"He is back where he should be." Gytha's voice left no room for disagreement. "You need to drink this and rest, Celeborn. We will have moved you by the time you waken." She handed him the goblet.

"Hennad." Celeborn could feel his jaw quiver as he spoke. His teeth began to chatter as the adrenalin from the battle completely left his system. He tried to take hold of the goblet but could not. His hand did not seem to want to do as he commanded it to. In fact, his hand was shaking so much that the tea slopped over the sides. Gytha caught his hand and held it steady, preventing him from dropping the goblet.

He blinked at it stupidly.

"I will help you steady it. You are exhausted and have lost a goodly amount of blood. That will not be helping." Celeborn nodded jerkily and began to sip the tea with Gytha's help.

"Da, you said this was a scratch! That is not a scratch!" Wolraven sounded shocked. Celeborn and Gytha turned to see what had caused the outburst. Caric had a wound that ran from just about mid-thigh and all the way down to his calf. It was jagged and deep, to the point that the fat layer was visible.

"It is!" Caric sounded defiant.

"It is more than that, Caric!" Gytha snapped. "Or must I use Eirien's frying pan to make my point?"

"I can wait. Celeborn needs you first."

"Yes, he does, but I can help you too. I made more tea. Wolraven, give your Da some. Then make sure that the wound is bandaged. That will need stitches." She turned back to help Celeborn.

Caric sat glowering at her. "Stop looking at me like that! I didn't get myself in the way of an Orc blade!"

That was the last Celeborn heard as the tea took away enough of the pain for darkness to rush in and smother all conscious thought.

---

"Da!" Briena could be heard calling. "DA!"

Caric looked up as Briena burst through the door. Fear haunted her face.

"Briena!"

If it had been any other time the sight of her would have made him laugh. He had not seen his daughter in this mess for many a year. Her red hair was escaping its normally neat braid. Her face was smudged with a mixture of mud and black blood. Her leggings were covered in the foul mixture as well.

"Da, they said you were hurt!" Briena flew to his side.

"I am only scratched!" There was a round of disbelieving snorts at this protestation.

"Should I get Ma's pan, Gytha?" Briena sounded fed up to the back teeth.

"Aye that would work well. He never says anything different, no matter how bad the wound is. Caelie, I am going to need a hand here." The wound on Celeborn's leg was worse than the last time she had seen it. On top of that there was another wound, one that had not been cleaned. Gytha was glad that Celeborn was no longer awake, this would hurt.

"Of course, Gytha. What do you want me to do?" Caelie had just come back in from arranging the fire. She had a pan of hot water in her hands. She changed the pan that Gytha was using to wash her hands in, much to the healer's approval.

"Find some thread. I have some cuts that need to be sewn up." Gytha was already washing her hands prior to cleaning Celeborn's leg.

Now that Briena was here, Wolraven stepped up to help Gytha, letting his sister take over cleaning their Da's wound. To make himself useful, he removed the remnants of Celeborn's ruined boot.

"Hir Celeborn has some thread in his healer's pack. I am sure he will not mind you using that or his herbs, Gytha. Let me get it for you." Gildor hurried from the barn, heading for the Gatehouse once more.

"What's wrong with Celeborn?" Briena looked up from cleaning her father's wound. "He's shaking!" Briena was surprised. Never had she seen an Elf shake like this.

"He's in shock and exhausted. From the dark under his eyes, I do not think that he's been sleeping well for a while. Even an Elf can push their body too far. He has lost a lot of blood, the silly Elf. He would use his leg. Would he listen to me? Oh no! Well, he will not be using it for a while now." Gytha was shaking her head and muttering more to herself than to Briena. It caused the two women with her to smile at each other.

All was well with the world if Gytha was moaning about her patients. It was when she was silent and working that one began to worry. They had both seen it far too many times to be comfortable.

"Here is his pack and I found Captain Thunor." Gildor hurried back into the barn, Thunor close on his heels.

"It is good to see you relatively well, Caric." There was some amusement in his voice as he greeted Caric, but he looked rather worried when he saw Celeborn shaking and unconscious as Gytha tended him in the bed next to Caric.

"And you, how is it going?" Caric watched as Briena readied the tea for him. Very soon he would not care what happened around him.

"Wolraven, could I have some more hot water?" Gytha's voice was tense. Caric wondered momentarily what she was worried about as she worked on Celeborn.

"Of course, Gytha." Wolraven hurried from the barn. No one could miss the proud set to his shoulders as he stepped out the door.

"He did very well. I am so proud of him." Caric seemed to glow with pride.

"I am too. I have my friend back and I promise you, Caric, he will remain here. That leads me to another problem." Thunor sat down heavily.

"You can talk to Da when he wakens." Briena was glaring at him, it caused Thunor to shiver. She was so like her mother in so many ways.

"I need to speak to him about this now. It is important. We found a body."

"Just the one?" Gytha's voice was snide.

"This one was important. It was outside of Bree, which I don't understand. It was the Mayor. He was killed by Orcs." Thunor sighed tiredly. This was the last thing he needed.

"That is no surprise. I can tell you how he got there." Gildor dropped that comment out of nowhere.

"Oh? Can you share that with me?" Thunor almost rolled his eyes. Elves! They could be so odd. They almost rivaled that strange wizard, Gandalf, sometimes.

"I can do better than that, I can show you. Come, follow me." He led Thunor from the barn and across the clearing towards the hidden doorway.

"How did this get here!" Thunor was amazed. No one had known there was another entrance to Bree.

"My guess would be that it was built by the Mayor. The Orcs seem to have followed his tracks and found the door. I will never forget their faces when they realised that I was there to greet them." Gildor sounded smug.

"You surprised them?" Thunor was looking around, noting the clever way that the gate had been cut into the wall and the churned ground around it.

"Very much so. By the tracks, it appears as if the meeting was pre-arranged. I fear you will need a new Mayor." Gildor was watching the area closely. It was still possible that there were some Orc stragglers hanging around, ready to continue the attack

"Aye and I have an idea who will make an excellent replacement. He just may need to be persuaded though." Thunor smiled at the thought. They would need to have a Town meeting to discuss this.

"Caric?" There was amusement in Gildor's eyes.

"How did you know who I was thinking of?" He turned stunned hazel eyes to the blonde-haired Elf.

Gildor smiled. "I watch people. He knows more of what goes on in this town than the Mayor ever did! I could easily see that in the short time I have been here." Gildor did not bother to hide his contempt of the mayor.

"He does. It was his idea to strengthen the gates in the way that we did. We did not mention it to the Mayor. He would have been against the idea out of hand, if only because Caric was the one who thought of it. I want Wolraven back on the Guard as well. He should never have been made to leave. We have lost good men because of that bad decision." Thunor scowled.

"He is a fine warrior and a good leader. I saw how he led the men. His Adar should be pleased and proud of him." He pulled the gate closed and made certain that the way was blocked. No one could get in this way. They would have to find a proper lock for this gate to prevent another attack like the one that he witnessed this last evening.

"Adar?" Thunor asked the Elf, confused.

"My apology, his father." Gildor hurried to explain his slip. "Adar is the Sindar Elven word for father."

"Yes, Caric is very proud of Wolraven. He was devastated after his injury. Still, we will be putting that ri..." A loud cry sounded from behind them and they drew their swords as they ran back towards the barn.

The fire was still burning brightly beneath a temporary lean-to, fashioned from parts of the broken barn door to keep the rain from putting out the fire. On the damp ground before the lean-to was a rigid, trembling Wolraven. A bowl was upside-down on the ground to one side, it contents obviously spilt.

Some of the women had been tending the fire and the kettle set over it, making sure that there was a constant supply of hot water. They were trying to help Wolraven, but were uncertain what to do.

"Damn! I was sure that he would not have a fit!" Thunor ran to help his friend. He had been so certain. 'Raven had looked so well after the fight, so like his normal self.

"Here, give him this." Gytha appeared from the doorway and handed Thunor a small bottle. "Give it in small sips. Once he stops trembling, bring him in. I need to see to Caric." She was gone.

Between them they gave Wolraven the tea, if it could be called tea. Gildor recognised it as being something that Elrond sometimes used in the House of Healing.

It always worked.

It did this time as well, for within minutes of giving him the tea Wolraven was limp in their arms.

"Let us get him out of this damp." Between them, they picked him up and carried him into the barn.

"What is happening?" They could hear Caric's panicked demands before they even entered.

"Wolraven had a fit. Thunor is seeing to him. Now, sit back down and drink that damn tea!" Gytha was beginning to lose her temper with the gatekeeper. She was tempted to knock him in the head…just to simplify things.

"Not until I know that Wolraven is alright. How bad was the fit?" Caric tried to brush her off.

"A minor one, Caric. He is sleeping it off right now." Thunor helped to carry him to a bed near his father.

"Good. I'm afraid I was expecting this." Caric sounded disappointed though.

"Will you please drink this bloody tea so that I can suture your leg!" Gytha was glowering at him now. "If you don't drink it this minute, I will take this axe and make perfect use of it!" It was not an idle warning.

Caric gulped and drained the goblet of tea in one, grimacing at the taste. "Why do your teas all have to taste so awful?"

"Because they work better!" She replied as she helped lower him to the bed. "We will take care of Wolraven and Celeborn for you." The last was said gently.

Caric only blinked at her hazily and then his eyes slid shut with a sigh.

"That is better. I can help him now. So hard-headed, the entire family. Forgive me Briena." The younger woman had returned to help Gytha and was checking over her brother.

"Nothing to forgive, Gytha. Ma and I always say the same thing." Gytha had to laugh at that, she could well believe it.

"I know he was worried, but even so…" She had to give a sigh of relief when she finally saw the wound properly. It was not as bad as Celeborn's, but bad enough.

"Hard-headed and obstinate Ma calls him. How bad is it?" Assured that Wolraven was well, she turned to help with her father, pulling the blanket into place over him.

"Not as bad as I feared. He will need to rest and stay off of it, mind you." Gytha was already cleaning the wound once more. Wolraven had done a very good job as had Briena when she had taken over, but even so...

"That is going to be fun. He will not like that." Briena's voice was wry.

"Be that as it may, he will have company. Neither of these three will be moving far from a bed until I say so, even if I have to use rope."

Briena chuckled wryly at the idea. "Thunor, have you seen anything of Athlon since the attack? I haven't seen hide nor hair of him and I would've thought he would let me know he's alright." Briena was worried about him.

"The last I saw of him he was heading into the smithy. I am sure he is alright, the smithy is still standing and undamaged." Thunor tried to be helpful.

"Thanks, he must be caught up in the cleanup in that case." Briena was relieved. She had been fighting near the Prancing Pony.

"How did the fight go with you?" Thunor knew that he had to leave, but he was relieved that his friends were relatively alright.

"Very well, I think Ma will be pleased I took five of the devils." Briena grinned wickedly.

Thunor chuckled as did Gytha. Yes, Eirien would be pleased with that.

"I need to go see to my men and see what casualties we have. We know about Cadeyrn but I am sure that he will not be the only one." Thunor knew what fighting Orcs was like.

"He is dead then?" Briena asked, "There are rumors."

"Aye, he's dead. We will need to call a Town Meeting as soon as everything is settled. We need a new, more effective, Mayor."

"That should not be hard." Gytha sighed as she thought of all the harm that Cadeyrn and Irfan had done in Bree.

"We have injured!" The cry made them all look up.

Men were hurrying in helping or carrying several men and women in their arms.

One of the first to be carried in was Brennus. His left hand was hanging pale and limp. Blood dripped on the floor in spite of a hasty bandage wrapped around the arm and hand.

"Find room for them to lie down. We need more bedding!" Gytha was up and rushing to them, all the time thanking the maker that she had just finished the last stitch in Caric's leg. All it needed was the bandage.

Thunor and Briena were behind Gytha every step of the way. The Elves, under Gildor's leadership, also rushed to aid them, beating many of the humans who had been closer.

The entire barn seemed to come alive as the injured came forward to be helped. It would be quite some time before calm returned and when it did, it was to the exhaustion of all. This night seemed to be lasting forever.

They lost five patients. One died as they laid him down on the pallet. The deep head wound could not be helped by anyone. Another died in Briena's arms as they tried to help her. Briena could feel the tears running down her cheeks but was unable to brush them away. She had known the woman, had trained with Lairen. They were close in age and had been good friends.

"I am sorry, child, there was nothing that I could do for her." Gytha was just as sad, tears filled her tired eyes.

"I know, thank you, Gytha." Briena sniffed.

"What happened?" Gytha needed to know what had caused so many casualties.

"The Orcs attacked the Halfling farms. Can you believe that they were not even warned?" One of the injured, she could not see who, answered her.

"They were not warned?" Thunor, who was treating him, growled with anger.

"No warning at all. What the Valar was Cadeyrn thinking? They had no time to prepare." The man, a young farm hand, shook his head in disgust. "Three farms have burnt. One Halfling family was slaughtered outright. They should have been warned!" Was the only thing he could say.

"If the man were not already dead, I would kill him for this." Gytha had never held Cadeyrn in great esteem, but now her regard for him was lower than she felt about an Orc. The man had been nothing more than a money-grabbing slug, seeking glory, earned or not.

"He is dead?" Riencar, the farm hand, asked. His name had come to her as she worked on Brennus.

"Aye, very. The Orcs got him." Her voice was tense, this was bad. The wound ran half-way through the bones above the wrist. It was doubtful they could save the hand.

"Good, having seen what the animals did to the women and children. They were only Halflings! What had they done to the Orcs!" Riencar was crying. He had worked with these people, eaten with them, drunk with them and, although he would never admit it to anyone and definitely not his Mother, he had even tried their pipe weed and their ale. They had been good people. He would never forget the nightmare scenes that he had witnessed this night.

"Because they are just that. Animals. The Orcs got what they deserved. Briena is going to make you some tea to drink. You are cold, look you are shaking. It will help. Briena? Put lots of sweetener in it." Gytha emphasised the sweetener, knowing that Briena would know exactly what she meant.

"Aye, Gytha, I will." Briena's voice was sure and Gytha knew that Riencar would receive the sleeping herb he needed.

"Thank you. I will need your help here after that. Thunor, did Irfan leave his instruments here? I am going to need them for this." She had no choice. Brennus' left hand would have to be amputated.

"He was not given any choice in the matter." Thunor grinned, aware that Gytha had been helping with a birth when Irfan had been run out of Bree.

"Good, can someone get them, quickly?" She was rapidly tying a tourniquet around the mid-arm, just above the cut and the ruined hand. Brennus had already lost a lot of blood because arteries had been cut. The hand had no pulse. It was white and cold.

"Indeed." He called one of the watching women over from seeing to the children, Now that they were all sleeping, the women could give more help to the wounded. "Is he badly injured?"

"Yes, I'm afraid the hand will have to be removed. Luckily, it is not the hand that he favours. He will still be able to do his book work and he will be of great benefit to the new Mayor, I am sure."

Thunor finished wrapping the bandage around the Halfling girl-child's chest he was working on. It broke his heart to see such innocent children hurt.

"He saved her, Hyacinth." Riencar was still crying slightly, hugging his arms around his chest.

"Who saved her?" Gytha looked up at him critically. Small wonder he was crying, he was suffering from shock. Good, Briena was back with the tea for him.

"Brennus, he pulled Hyacinth out of the way of an Orc blade. That was how he got the slash to his arm and she got the cut to her ribs. I killed the Orc." Riencar was off crying once more.

"Was it your first kill?" Thunor understood a lot more now. A first kill was a shock for anyone. He remembered being hideously sick his first time.

"Y... yes."

"Then you have done exceptionally well." Briena hugged him one handedly as she helped him with the tea. "If it had not been for you, likely neither of them would be here. I think you are very brave." She gently kissed his cheek.

Riencar blushed deep to his roots. "Thank you." He had been startled enough by the kiss to stop crying.

"You are welcome, finish this and lay down. You must be tired, you have had a busy night." Briena helped Riencar to finish the tea and then lay down. "I am sure your Ma will soon be here looking for you."

"I hope so. My Ma will be alright? Will Da be?" He looked over his shoulder to a bed where an older Hobbit was being treated.

"I am sure that they'll both be alright." Briena tried to sound sure, but to be truthful she did not really know.

"I hope so." He yawned widely as the drug began to hit home. "Will Brennus be alright? He was magic with his bow. Is that what the Elves are like?"

"They can be." Briena had to smile at the young one. "Brennus should be alright."

"Why did the Orcs attack us? We are just farmers." The tears filled his eyes once more and Briena put the goblet down and pulled him fully into a comforting hug.

"I don't know. I wish I knew, but I don't. Hush now, no need to cry." She gently rocked him back and forth. The boy was crying again and every now and again she could feel a hiccup. They soon stopped as he succumbed to sleep.

Briena gently lowered him to the bed, brushing the dark hair from the pale face. He had a large cut across his forehead, but was otherwise unharmed. With gentle wipes she brushed the remnants of his tears away. Covering him warmly, she stood and walked back to Gytha who had just taken delivery of the bag Irfan used for his surgical tools. The outside was as nasty as the man had been. Just the sight made her want to heave. It looked like he had dropped it in a midden and not bothered to clean it. If this was the outside, who knew what the inside was like? Could she even use the tools?

It was with hesitance that she reached to open the filthy bag, already thinking of what she could use as a compromise. When she did finally get the bag open, she was in for a pleasant shock.

The tools were sparkling clean and looked to be newly sharpened. Either that or they had never been used. She thought it might be the latter rather than the former. She doubted the man even knew what half of them were for.

"We need to move. Brennus has already lost more blood than I am happy with." She removed the tools from the bag. She would not allow it anywhere near her patient. Once finished she looked up and seeing the nearest brazier to her, dropped the offending bag into the flames. It flared for a minute before catching light, but she was no longer watching, she had turned back to her patient.

She knew she had made the right decision the minute she had finished. Not even Master Healer Elrond could have saved the hand. It was a great pity, but at least Brennus was still alive.

Gytha and Briena worked together to tighten the bandage. It would need a lot of pressure to stop the bleeding and form a neat, perfect stump. She was thankful to Elrond for talking her through this procedure so long ago. This had been her first amputation, though she had watched as Elrond had worked after the battle back then as well. She recalled he had been wounded as well. It was why he had recruited her to help.

"We will need to watch him closely for any signs of bleeding. I need to know straight away, Briena. I want to make sure that Celeborn and Ivorhen are alright and then I will quickly check on the others. Are you happy doing that?" She smiled tiredly at Caric's daughter. She had been the greatest of help tonight and she would make certain that both Caric and Eirien knew about this.

"Yes, I am happy. Make sure Celeborn is alright? Da will be most unhappy..." She did not feel up to finishing the sentence.

"I will." She turned to Celeborn who was laying closest to her. He did not look comfortable. In fact that an understatement. His brow was furrowed. She gently brushed his hair away so that she could feel his skin.

It was dry and hot. She tried to think whether she had seen the Elf drink or eat since he had arrived. She could not recall seeing him drink anything other than the herbal teas.

"Briena, has Celeborn taken time to see to his own needs since he arrived?" She called over her shoulder.

Briena had to think. "I have only seen him drink tea for the pain and nothing else. He has not even visited the necessary to my recollection." She said the latter without embarrassment. Gytha was a healer after all. Forget birthing woman, she was more a healer than Irfan could ever be. She should be the town's rightful healer and Briena would be speaking to the new Mayor about exactly that as soon as she could.

"As I feared. Men! He is dehydrated and, I am sure, very hungry. I can do nothing about the hunger but I can remedy the dehydration. This is one healer I will be having a few words for when he wakens." She was already mixing water with some herbs, to help with re-hydrating Celeborn.

She gave it to him in small sips before checking his leg. There had been some bleeding onto the bandage, but not as much as she had feared there would be. Satisfied, she turned to Ivorhen and stopped with an endearing smile. The Elf had not moved an inch. He still lay as she had left him on the bed.

The same could not be said for Tiera. She had moved so that she practically smothered the Elf, lying over his chest. Even asleep, she was smiling slightly and rather than sucking on her thumb, she now sucked on the warrior braid that she had previously been holding so tightly.

This would not do, as adorable a sight as it was. Ivorhen was in need of proper rest and he would become too hot this way. Head injuries tended to play with the body's temperature. Still, she hated to move them.

Gytha gently lifted Tiera, not too high, just enough to pull her back down the long, lean body that lay beneath her. Ivorhen sighed a little as she did so. Tiera whimpered and her left hand shot out to grasp Ivorhen's tunic beneath her. No, Tiera would not be moving anywhere. She had still not let go of the hair either.

Gytha pulled her a little further down, making sure she was comfortable, but also making sure that Ivorhen was settled too. Then she placed a blanket against the girl's thin shoulder and gently brushed the dark ringlets away from the dirty face. She thoughtfully gazed down at the two.

They were very similar and, at a first with a fleeting glimpse, could be mistaken for father and daughter. Their dark hair was almost the same colour, apart from one being completely straight and the other's a mixture of curls and ringlets. Their faces were so pale they almost matched as well. One long and lean, as they always were with Elves, the other pudgy and glowing with the energy of a young child. That was where the similarity ended. Ivorhen's eyes were grey, while Tiera's were a hazel green, and then there were the ears. One could not forget the ears, no matter how much one tried.

They both undoubtedly needed the comfort and the warmth of another being after what they had both seen. She reached to touch Ivorhen's forehead, careful not to touch the wound beneath the bandage. She was right the Elf was a little warm. Not too badly, but that would have grown worse had she not moved Tiera.

Gytha gently opened the right eye to look at the pupil followed by the left. There was no change in the pupil sizes. One was still larger than the other and slower to react. He was heavily unconscious, not even really asleep. Not surprising with the deep head injury. She did not like it though. She still wondered how he had wakened to save the child.

She would need to keep an eye on both Ivorhen and Celeborn and that pain-in-the-neck, Caric. She could not let anything happen to him. She thought too highly of him. Not that she would tell him that, of course.

She really needed to give Ivorhen some water. She eyed Tiera, wondering. Dare she try and move the child altogether?

Almost as if sensing what Gytha was thinking, the small hand tightened on his jerkin. No, she would not let go lightly. Gytha decided that it would be best to wait until Tiera was awake to do this.

She decided against covering Ivorhen with the blanket too, that would not help his temperature.

When Gytha was finished with checking on her patients, Briena had not moved from her spot beside Brennus. Her hand rested lightly on the pulse of his remaining hand and Gytha nodded in approval. She had a good idea who she would be training to take her place when she became too frail to see to the birthing in and around Bree. She had seen how Briena kept her head in an emergency and she heartily approved.

"How is he?" She moved to sit beside them.

"No change." Briena was relieved at that.

"Good, I will take over here for a bit. Take a few minutes rest, you must be exhausted." Gytha rested her hand on the shoulder beside her.

"Would you mind? I want to..." There was the sound of a disturbance outside the barn and they could hear shouting. "That sounds like..."

Two men hurried into the barn, a third hung limply between them.

"We heard you are seeing to the injured here! We have injured!" The voice was urgent.

"Jowan, what happened?" Gytha was beside the blacksmith before he had finished speaking.

"Orcs, woman, what else do you think happened?" The smith looked at her as if she had just asked what color the sky was.

"Are you injured?" She looked him over for obvious wounds.

"I am well, but Ath..." He never got to finish.

"Athlon! Valar no!" Briena cried in horror and she ran to meet them. "Get him on a bed! What happened? Where is he hurt?" Her eyes were wide with horror.

"Briena, give us room to work and we will find out when we get him into the light." Gytha's voice was sharp to start with, but softened as she realised how white and scared the other woman looked. She had only ever seen her look this worried twice before, three years ago when Wolraven had been so badly hurt and earlier when she had thought that Caric had been badly injured.

"But he is..."

"Come and stand by the brazier with me while Gytha works, Briena. You can be near to him then." Thunor had hurried to Briena's side. He knew all about the engagement. Wolraven had told him in confidence, but as yet it had not officially been announced. They would wait for Eirien to return for that.

"But... but..." There were tears running down Briena's face. The last time she had seen someone carried in this way, someone that she loved, Wolraven had almost died and his wife and babe had died. To see Athlon carried in, in the same condition...

Thunor did not give her a choice, he gently but firmly moved her out of the way.

"They attacked the smithy. The last thing I recall was being cornered by two Orcs. Athlon jumped them." Jowan looked away, uncomfortable. "I fell over the harness for the donkey. We had let her go. We know what those beasts do to innocent animals. Just as the Orcs attacked, I hit my head."

"You are hurt! You silly man! What am I going to do with you? How many times must I tell you to tell me when you are hurt? I thought you had learnt your lesson when you almost lost your fingers." Gytha grumbled as they carried Athlon to the nearest bed.

As they lay him down, Athlon's head lolled towards Briena and they could all see the splayed blond hair, it was covered in red blood, a lot of red blood.

"No, Athlon! Please, Athlon, NO!" Briena was trying to get to her fiancée.

"Briena! Sit down and stay there! Gytha will help him." Thunor pulled her to him and held her in place. He expected to have a fight on his hands, but was amazed and relieved when she sagged in his arms and began to cry.

Gytha shot her a quick glance, full of worry, before getting back down to work.

The head wound was thankfully shallow. It had bled a lot, but that was the way of head injuries. Blood had run down the pale face to form a sort of crude mask. His pupils were the same size and worked together so she was not too worried about that. He would likely have a headache when he woke, but nothing more. Why, then, had he been unconscious so long?

"Jowan, help me get his clothes off. Something isn't right here." She was already undoing his leather jerkin. She was right. The back of the jerkin was covered in blood and had stiffened as it dried. There were also cut marks running the entire length of the jerkin.

His shirt underneath was ruined. The cuts were jagged and uneven. It was with trepidation that they pulled the tattered shirt away from his back. Even Jowan, tough doughty old Jowan, blanched at the sight before him.

Athlon's back was a ruin. There was barely any patch of skin untouched.

"They whipped him." Jowan growled. "Those... those... foul vermin whipped him! If I could get my hands on them they would not live long enough to boast of this dark deed."

"I like it no more than you, Jowan, but that will not help Athlon now!" She did not mean to be sharp with the Master Smith. Normally, it would be one of the last things she would do, but Athlon was still losing too much blood and the Orcs were dead and with their maker, hopefully in everlasting torment in the Abyss.

"What can I do?" Jowan had apprenticed Athlon since he was a teen, after the lad's parents had died. He liked the lad and to see him like this angered him.

"I will need warm salt water. While I make him some tea for sleep, can you begin to wash Athlon's back? I really do not want to risk infection in those wounds." That was an understatement.

"Aye, I can do that. Why tea? He is unconscious." Jowan was helped to gently turn Athlon over so that he rested on his stomach. Neither of them missed the bruises on his torso that stood out vividly against the white of the skin.

"He may be unconscious, but for how long? I don't think he would be happy if he were to wake while I was cleaning his back, would you?" She turned from preparing the tea to glare at him.

"No, I wouldn't." What more could Jowan say? This was going to be painful for Athlon, no matter what they did.

"He will also need the tea for when he does wake. He will be in pain for some time to come." Gytha regretted her words the minute she said them when Briena moaned against Thunor's shoulder. "Help me get this into him?"

It was no easy task as they did not want to put any pressure on Athlon's back, but they managed finally to get the herb tea into him.

Jowan and Gytha worked together to clean Athlon's back. It really was a mess. Some of the lash wounds were very deep. Ideally, she would have preferred to suture the wounds, but there was so little untouched skin left, there was nowhere to put the stitches together.

Athlon was still bleeding badly. Again and again they cleaned his back, glad that he did not feel the salt in the wounds. That would sting more than they cared to imagine, but salt was the best thing to disinfect the wound with.

Eventually, they had the bleeding stopped. Gytha then smothered his back with a paste of herbs to prevent infection. It smelt dreadful, but better that than an infection over such a vast area.

"I need to listen to his breathing. You noticed that he had bruising to his chest?" Between them they wrapped Athlon's back with some fine cloth before bandaging it.

"Aye, it looks like a boot mark." Jowan scowled.

"That is my feeling as well." She bent and lightly pressed her ear to Athlon's chest as Jowan gently supported him. They all held their breaths as she listened. "I can hear nothing wrong. His lungs are clear."

The entire room sighed with relief. The chances were great of bleeding in the lungs after such a blow.

Gytha began to carefully feel all along the ribs, gently probing with her fingers to make sure that they were relatively intact.

"There are two broken ribs. I can feel them give as I press. We will have to bandage his back anyway. It will help hold the ribs steady too." Jowan helped her.

Once they had finished and had gently settled him back down on the bed upon his stomach, Thunor led Briena over to the bed and pulled up a chair. Gently settling her, they watched as she groped for his hand almost blindly.

Thunor moved away and joined Gytha and Jowan. "Will he be alright?"

"Time will tell. He has lost a lot of blood and is very weak. The next few days will tell. I am sorry, I can't say more than that." Gytha suddenly sounded her age. It had been a long night.

"We will help him recover." Jowan had no doubt of that.

"Aye, I need to replenish the herbs. I have used a lot tonight. Without Celeborn's pack we would have run out. We will need more before the sun rises, I fear. There are some here who I can't move, no matter how much I would like to." Gytha rubbed her eyes without thinking.

"You will need to take someone with you. There may yet be Orcs lurking about. I would not put it past the foul things." Thunor said the name with disgust.

"I will go with her." Jowan would not let Gytha out of his sight now.

"Not before I have looked at that hard head of yours! And don't think I didn't notice that you are limping, Man!" There was affection as well as worry in her words. Thunor had to smile, they were always like this. They were well-known old friends. He had never known them to be any other way with each other.

"Stop nagging, Woman! The bleeding has stopped." Jowan was glowering back at her but if you looked closely enough you could see the affection was returned.

"You will sit and I will treat you or you will wish you had never have been born!" Gytha was already gathering her meagre provisions before her.

"I will not! We have work to do. I need to go and look at the... Umph!" He had been clouted, gently to be sure, but he had still been clouted about the shoulders by Gytha.

"Sit! Stay! And shut up!" Gytha could not help herself. She had gotten her fill of this behaviour from Caric earlier.

"Ow! What was that for, Woman!" Neither could Jowan.

"What did I tell you?" She raised her hand again, ready to hit once more if it should be needed. "Good, you are seeing sense."

Jowan just grimaced and muttered under his breath as he let her work on him. His head did ache, as did his ankle.

"That will heal nicely and won't even need stitches, you will... you have a headache." Her voice sounded snug.

"There is no need to sound so happy about it!" Jowan sounded very aggrieved.

"I am not happy about it. It's just nice to be proven right. I will make you something for it. Let me see your ankle?" Gytha tried to sound contrite.

Still mumbling and groaning, Jowan took off his boot and stocking. Gytha gently took the slightly swollen limb in her hands and looked it over.

"It is only bruised. I will bandage it and you should be fine within a couple of days." She washed her hands once more. "When we get back, I will prepare some Arnica and witch hazel. That will help with the bruising. We should get the herbs while everyone here is calm and sleeping."

Jowan nodded and pulled his stocking and boot back on. Taking up Gytha's cloak he helped her on with it. Then they gave the patients once last quick look over before they left the barn and stepped into the light rain that was still falling outside.

---

(Back to the previous evening.)

Eirien did not look back as they left Bree. She was too focused on the horse. It had been years since she last rode as an elf does, without saddle or reins. She was watching the riders beside her. It had probably not been a good idea to leave so close to dusk, but they could at least put some distance between themselves and the town before they camped.

"We will ride for a while and then camp for the night. I know of a place that will be handy and safe for tonight. We can settle before it is fully dark. I made certain to pack a few sticks of firewood. That will save some time when we do stop." Eirien turned her attention back to the trail. She had settled into the horse's rhythm and riding became easier.

"That will be good. I would like to get to Ada as soon as we can." Elrohir sounded a little stronger.

"You will both take more Miruvor when we stop. I know that it helps you."

"Aye, it does. I can understand now why Ada and DaerNana always use it." Elrohir tried to hide the yawn.

"Yes, they have used it for years, I know. Dear, you should try and rest. You are still recovering from your vision." It was not lost on Eirien that Elrohir was trying to hide just how tired he was. Just like his father, she could not help but muse.

"I am well, Eirien. I slept a lot today." Another yawn slipped through his defences.

"I think Eirien is right, Ro. You look exhausted. Besides, you didn't sleep, you were unconscious. I have you safe and I will not let you fall. Sleep." Elladan was worried about his brother. The last vision had scared him more than he liked.

"No, I can..."

"Please, Ro? What can you do when we are riding?" Elladan looked down at his brother with worried grey eyes.

"You are right, I will rest." Elrohir hated to see his brother this worried.

Elladan gave him a relieved grin and then looked up to share it with Eirien. Elrohir snuggled further into his brothers warm, comfortable arms. Soon he was asleep, he did not even notice when his eyes slid shut. It was a testament to his exhaustion. It caused Elladan to worry once more, but he kept quiet, not wanting to waken his brother now that he was asleep.

They had been riding about an hour when Elladan's sensitive ears picked up sounds of movement that should not have been there.

"Eirien, we need to get off the road NOW!" His voice was soft but carried to her by sheer force of urgency.

"There is a small copse ahead. Make for that, the trees are dense and will offer cover." They moved as quickly and silently as they could.

They had just reached cover and stilled the horses when the sound of black speech hit Elladan's ears, it made him wince as if the very words caused pain.

Soon, Orcs marched into their line of sight and Elladan thanked the Valar that the wind was blowing in their direction and did not blow towards the Orcs so they would not catch their scent. Elrohir moaned softly in his arms and he tightened his grip, whispering words of comfort into Elrohir's ear. He looked over to Eirien and saw that she was ready to fight if necessary, her sword drawn and ready.

They watched tense and silent until the Orcs were out of sight and their clattering noise could no longer be heard.

"They are heading towards Bree." Eirien hissed. She sounded angry.

Elladan could understand. He hated hiding from the Orcs instead of attacking until they were all dead, after what they had done to Naneth. But he had his brother to care for now and they would be no match for them at this time.

"Aye, something is about to happen. I wish I knew what." Elladan looked up to the sky to track the stars. Seeing Eärendil, his Daer Adar's star, always seemed to help calm him. He frowned when he saw that clouds were fast moving across the sky, barring his view.

"It is going to rain. You may want to raise your cloak." Elladan warned her.

Eirien looked up. Smelling the scent of rain on the air, she pulled her hood even closer. Elladan already had his up, trying to hide his glow from prying eyes, as did Elrohir. Still he fussed and pulled Elrohir's cloak tighter around him.

They waited until the Orcs were well out of sight before they re-joined the road. They had not been riding long, with Eirien looking back frequently, when it began to rain, just small drops at first and then steadily. This would help them. Most creatures did not like to be out in this weather.

Heads down, they kept on riding. Thoughts of stopping to camp had disappeared when the Orcs had shown up.

"Bree!" Eirien had looked over her shoulder once more to see the light of flames reflected on the clouded night sky.

Elladan looked back as well. "We cannot go back, we would just head right into them!" There was sorrow in Elladan's voice.

"They will be alright, Child. Don't you worry about that. Bree has stood for many a year and will continue to do so. The vile creatures will find they have bitten off more than they can be comfortable with." Eirien's smile sent shivers down Elladan's spine.

"In what way?"

"Caric made sure that certain defences were in place. He always feared that this day would come once again. The Mayor..." her voice was a low hiss and it was not lost on Elladan that Eirien thought of the Mayor as something even lower than Irfan and that was saying something. "…has no idea. Not that he has any ideas of his own anyway other than how to make or con people out of money. No those creatures will get a nice little nasty surprise when they arrive." Her smile was wide just at the thought.

"I am glad. I hope they will all be alright." Elladan had liked the people of Bree that he had met.

"I am sure that they will be fine. We are tough folk." She cast another look at the youngest twin. "Is Elrohir still asleep?"

"Yes, he is. I am glad. He needs the rest." Elladan fussed over his brother once more, making sure that he was dry and warm enough.

"Can we continue to ride for the time being? I really would like to get as much distance between them..." A nod over her shoulder. "…and us as possible. There may be more about."

"I agree. I do not believe that so few Orcs would attack a town like that." Elladan shook his head in wonder.

"We will stop in a while for a rest." She paused to listen. "We need to get off the road." Eirein's voice was urgent and Elladan needed no second telling, he had also heard the sounds, although perhaps a little clearer... well a lot clearer than Eirien could hear.

They had been in hiding a good few minutes before the sounds of voices cut through the air.

"Come on, 'urry up, ya slugs! We shoulda bin dere ages ago! Wats takin' ya so long!" The voice was gruff.

"Don' like da light. Unnat'ral it is, marchin' in da day. We shoulda bin sleepin'!" The second voice was definitely whinging.

"If ya'd hurried, we'da been there and coulda 'ad some sleep. Shut ya mouth and walk!" The first voice snapped.

"We 'ave walked! All bleedin' day, wen we shoulda been sleepin'!" Another voice chimed in. Eirien grinned at Elladan with grim amusement.

"Then walk some more if ya wanna fight! Move, 'fore I poke ya!" This was a growl.

"I wan' fresh meat. Nice juicy fresh meat, still warm 'n' drippin' wit' blood." The first voice was a real complainer. "I'm 'ungry, ain't 'ad a mouthful all day."

"Then ya better 'urry or we'll be too late fer anythin' but scraps! We'll be in trouble if we miss this party."

The voices faded into the distance as they made their way to Bree.

"They will never get what they want." There was surety in Eirien's voice.

"I hope not." Elladan so wanted to go after them with his bow and sword. He hated these vile creatures. The only good Orc, to his mind and Elrohir's, was a dead Orc. After what the Orcs had done to their Naneth they both vowed to hunt them down and kill as many as possible. Only Elrohir's warm weight in his arms stopped him.

"They will not. Caric will make sure of that. This is not like your Mother, Child. I promise you. Your family is safe away from here." She tried to reassure the young Elf.

"I know, but... Eirien, DaerAda will be following us. I am sure of that. What happens if they are surprised by the Orcs? Or if he is in Bree?" Elladan was suddenly terrified. What had their rash actions caused? Elrohir had already been hurt, albeit only by exhaustion following his vision-trance. They would never forgive themselves if they had caused their DaerAda to be hurt. How could they face DaerNana or Adar?

"Hush, Young One, Celeborn knows how to fight and fight well. I have seen him. If they are caught outside the town by the Orcs, the Orcs will lose and if they are within Bree? There are defenses there that the Orcs will have to breech first. Defences that will buy the town time to prepare." Eirien smiled grimly at the thought of those defences and wished she was there to see the Orcs.

"I know, but still..." Elladan glanced over his shoulder once more.

"It is easy to worry when you are not there." Eirien finished for him.

"Aye." Elladan was still worried. He just felt a little better about it.

"Come, we can leave now." They began on their way once more.

Soon the clearing where Eirien had in mind to stop for the night came into view. They both decided to stop there to rest the horses.

"Ro, wake up. We are stopping for a rest." Elladan gently woke up his brother.

"What? Where?" Elrohir was a little confused as he looked around at the growing darkness and the rain.

"Just the clearing that Eirien mentioned earlier. We are going to rest the horses and then carry on." Elladan was watching him closely for signs of distress.

"Oh, alright." Elrohir sat up, yawning, he felt better for the rest.

Once they came to a stop he slid off of the back of Saeleinior. "Hannon-le, Sael for the smooth journey." He gently stroked the horse's nose. Saeleinior nickered a response then moved off to graze with Callon and other horse.

"Come and sit, I will make a small fire while you have your Miruvor. You can have your tea then." Eirien was already reaching for the wood she had brought.

"Can I help?" Elladan felt bad, leaving her to do everything.

"Yes, you can sit with your brother and make sure he is well." She smiled at him. Elrond had certainly done a very good job at raising his sons.

"As you wish, but, please, if I can do more, let me know?" At Eirien's nod he returned to Elrohir's side.

They had both had their Miruvor and had just finished their tea when Elrohir dropped his cup and suddenly fell over on his back, eyes wide, gazing unseeingly at the clouded night sky.

"He is having another vision!" Elladan crawled to his brother's side. Eirien joined them.

"What can I do?" She felt as helpless as Elladan had felt only a short while ago.

"Nothing until it stops, other than to keep him safe."

"I will get the Miruv..."

"An' what's this we 'ave 'ere then, Boys?" Suddenly a decidedly unwelcome voice came from behind them...

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To be continued...

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We're sorry about the cliffie but it was the ideal place to end this chapter so that we could get back to Imladris and our dear little Legolas.

Please let us know what you think of this chapter, if you leave your reviews with your email address we will get back to you.

Love,

SSS