Chapter 28

Elladan could not believe his eyes as the feral elf turned his attention upon them. His ears heard Aragorn's whispered word but his mind refused to make the connection between his lifelong friend and the snarling, gore encrusted creature rushing towards him with murder written all over its twisted face.

"Nay, nay" Shaking his head as if trying to clear the sight from his eyes the elder twin murmured the negativity in desperation, standing as if rooted to the spot, sword useless in a hand motionless through denial.

Elrohir regained his senses first. Pushing his twin out of the way he spun and brought his own sword up to meet the blade that had been intended to slice into his brother where he stood. Then found himself on the receiving end of a furious series of attacks as the wood elf spun, twisted and turned, his twin blades seemingly everywhere at once. He winced as sharp heat sliced through his left forearm but kept his eyes on his opponent so managing to avoid the lunge that may otherwise have ended up with him losing his entrails like the orc before him. Dancing away the pair warily circled each other and Elrohir's heart clenched as their eyes locked and he saw the depth of hatred held within his opponents.

"Nay! Legolas!" He shouted out as the wood elf licked his lips, as a wolf when facing its prey. "'Tis I, 'tis Elrohir. Nay!"

The face before him seemed to darken further with these words.

"I know who you are!" Venom laced each word as the elf attacked once more, raining a series of blows down upon the youngest twin without style or grace as if to batter him into the ground.

Trying to stay on his feet, Elrohir withstood the fury being unleashed upon him, parrying each and every blow with agile speed, the strength of his mixed heritage a blessing as he deflected the frenetic strikes.

"Daro! (Stop) Legolas. Daro!"

Elladan had been watching on with Aragorn, disbelief turning to heartache as he realized that his brother was in mortal danger from their friend. He shouted out as Elrohir stumbled under the onslaught then raised his own blade to slash at the enraged elf in an effort to turn him away from his brother. It worked. Legolas turned with a smile that made shivers run down the half elf's spine and for a moment all was still.

"An ngell nin, (Please) Legolas, do you not know us?" As he spoke Elladan allowed the hold upon his sword to relax until its tip rested on the ground. His left hand he held out in supplication and mute appeal for peace.

"I. Know. You." Each word was spat out in a growl. "Noldo filth!"

With the last word Legolas lunged forwards once more and it was all Elladan could do to withstand the blows rained down upon him.

"You. Threw. Me. Out." Each word was punctuated by the thrust of a knife. "You. Turned. My. Father. Against. Me." Both twins were now hard pressed to stave off the relentless wood elf. "Exiled. Me." Legolas was panting now with exertion. "Left. Me…Alone"

For a moment Elrohir thought he saw the shine of tears in the haunted eyes before him before they were shuttered once more and turned to ice.

"Legolas, please." He began.

"Legolas is no more." The wood elf broke in harshly. "He died a long time ago." The twin blades spun faster as he continued as if to underline his words. "I am Duathion. Bringer of your doom." Sudden laughter sprang from his lips as one slender blade sliced a thin line upon Elladan's cheek.

Aragorn watched transfixed from the sidelines. Strong and quick with a blade he may have been but he knew that he was no elf. He could not have hoped to keep pace with the three beings locked in combat before him. His mind went back to youthful days spent in Imladris and the wonder with which he had watched these three as they sparred, joyfully trying out new moves, each a perfect match for the other, their bodies and blades flashing before him with a speed and grace he could only dream of possessing. He looked back at the scene before him and quailed. This was no friendly sparring match and although he could tell the twins were holding back, defending rather than attacking, their adversary had no such qualms.

Another burst of laughter brought another stripe of blood, this time from Elrohir's right cheek in mirror image to that of his twin and his eyes narrowed at the sting.

"I have no wish to fight you, Legolas." He hissed out as he felt the blood well from the wound. "Please, stop, we are your friends."

"Friends!"

Legolas struck both twins simultaneously across their shoulders with the flat of his blade sending jarring shocks down their arms.

"If that is what you do to friends, I would hate to become an enemy!"

He danced out of reach, twirling as the twins swung in tandem, trying to knock the knives from his hands then somersaulted backwards over their heads to land in a crouch behind them blades snapping out in an effort to slice their hamstrings in a move as fast as the strike of a snake. The twins were just as fast however, flipping themselves out, head over heels to either side before the blades could meet their mark and turning to brace themselves for his next attack.

Faster and faster the three moved, leaping, twisting and turning, the sound of their blades coming together ringing out through the forest as the fight became even more intense. Blood droplets flew from minor cuts and scrapes from all three bodies. As Aragorn watched he felt his heart leap into his mouth with each swipe of the blades then, noticing Legolas' reaction every time someone drew blood he felt his stomach clench. The wood elf appeared to be enjoying the sight, licking his lips with each blossom of the ruby substance as if tasting a fine wine, eyes glittering and dark with lust. He closed his eyes to block out the sight but they shot open again as a sudden cry of pain rent the air, quickly followed by an agonized shout.

"'Dan!"

Elladan was kneeling on the floor, clutching his right forearm, blood streaming from between fingers desperately trying to stem the flow whilst Elrohir and Legolas circled each other like wolves waiting to attack each one shooting glances over at the downed half elf, one with eyes full of concern the other drinking in the sight with pleasurable anticipation.

"I am fine 'Roh," Elladan smiled in an attempt to reassure his brother, "'Tis only a scratch." He shrugged in an effort to appear nonchalant. "I have had worse whilst sparring."

"Hah!" The wood elf snorted contemptuously whilst ducking to swing his knives at Elrohir's ankles then jumping swiftly over his opponents own sword before twisting and aiming a slash downwards in a blur of movement.

"Arrogant Noldo!" Spinning his blades to change grip he turned and stabbed them both backwards as Elrohir leapt sideways, narrowly avoiding their deadly tips. "You will beg for mercy before I am done with you!" He parried a swing from the twin's sword, allowed his own blade to slide along its length than flicked it away with a sneer. "Both of you!"

As the pair moved away in their deadly dance Aragorn rushed over to his fallen brother, ripping at the hem of his tunic as he ran.

"Here, let me."

Grasping Elladan's wrist he lifted his hand and quickly began to bandage the, still bleeding, wound on his forearm with the torn strip of fabric, binding it as tightly as he dare to stem the crimson flow. Once finished he placed a hand upon the half elf's shoulder to prevent him from rising.

"You can not, muindor." He knew it was useless to try to prevent his brother returning to the fray but he had to try. "The wound is too deep, you will not be able to hold your sword."

"It is fine, Estel." The words were forced through teeth clenched against the pain as Elladan strove to regain his feet. "I can fight just as well with my left hand as with my right. We have to wear him down."

With a shake of his head the young man reluctantly retrieved his brothers sword from where it had fallen from his lax fingers and held it out, Elladan rewarded him with a wry smile and nod as he took it, swung it twice as if ensuring his grip was still true then raced back to his twins side with a grimly determined expression.

The fight continued and it was all Aragorn could do to watch, his heart bled as his mind raced, surely there must be something he could do to help.

The elf found himself licking his lips once more as a fine spray of red droplets shot into the air from the shallow cut opened in the smooth skin of his exposed chest. That one had been close. His body felt so alive, the sharp burn of the blade through his skin accompanied by the thrill of the fight and the iron tang in the air joining together to almost overwhelm him with sensation. Previous battles against orcs and men paled into comparison. They were not real fights, merely games, to be enjoyed and savoured for the brief pleasure they gave. But this. This was real. The pair he faced now were so much more skilled, faster, more agile and far closer matched to his ability. And, of course, this was personal. He felt his body twitch in excitement as his blade came together with one of the hated pair's swords, swept up its length, almost in a caress, before flicking away, taking a nick from an elegantly pointed ear tip as it went. Oh, yes they were good. But he had the edge.

Circling around the pair in a brief moment of respite he smiled. He knew that they were not giving their all yet. He could see the minute traces of hesitation in their eyes, the compassion, the pain. They lacked the one thing he possessed. The wish to kill. But that would change before the end. At the moment they were merely protecting themselves and their own sense of superiority. Not wishing to tarnish themselves as they had him. It would not last. At the end they would see their only option would be to become as he was and how fitting would that be. Their Noldo heritage would out eventually. Kinslaying was in their very blood. His body tingled with anticipation. And how sweet it would be to see the looks upon their arrogant faces when they finally realized what they were, as they gave in to their own urges and fought for real. He trembled with anticipation, tasting blood as he bit his lip to stop himself moaning aloud in pleasure. That would be the point to finish it. Right at that moment. Looking them in the eyes so they knew that he knew.

Like a cat playing with mice he darted forwards, flicked one blade out to tap one of the pair on his shoulder before dancing away with an agile twirl and ducking low to catch the other a sharp jab to the behind. Teasing laughter spilling from bloodstained lips.

"Come, Noldo." He taunted as he lunged forward, flicking Elrohir's sword effortlessly aside and clasping him close to his breast. "You can do better than this. Friend!" He spat the final word into the twins face before thrusting him away contemptuously. "You are not really trying."

"Please Legolas." Elrohir stumbled in an effort maintain his balance at the force of the push. "I don't understand." Confusion was etched deeply onto his face.

"And what exactly is it you do not understand, peredhil?"

The elf felt anger rising as he contemplated the identical pair now side by side again before him.

"How much it hurt?" How lost I was? How alone?"

Feelings began to surface that he had pushed deep within and the pain they brought with them was almost too much to bear.

"I trusted you!"

His vision began to blur and wiping a slender hand across his eyes he was startled when he felt the telltale moisture of tears on his fingers.

"I. Loved you!"

Wiping his hand sharply over his stained breeches he took a deep breath and gathered his anger and hatred together as his master had taught him. He would not allow this weakness to overcome him. He pictured the hooded form standing over him, whip trailing from one gauntleted hand and felt his stomach clench with remorse as he heard in his mind the disappointment he knew would lace the dark one's words if he failed. He would be lucky to ever see the light of day again. Shaking his head to clear the image he looked over at the twins to see them watching him warily, swords held by their sides in deceptively relaxed grips, eyes filled with pity, waiting to see what he would do next.

They thought him weak! They thought he needed their sympathy, their compassion! He would show them, this pair who had contrived his disgrace and laughed as he fell. His blades began to twirl in his hands, faster and faster as his ire grew. He would show them the same amount of 'compassion' as they had shown him and they would beg for release in the end. Savouring the moment he began to advance, noticing the quick, worry filled glances that passed between the two and he felt a smile tug at lips his tongue wiped lazily. Revenge was going to be so, so sweet.

A sudden violent impact on his right shoulder spun him round and for a second he felt he would fall but managed to regain his equilibrium, snarling out a curse and lifting the blade in his left hand ready to strike, until a second blow jolted him backwards and this time he could not save himself. He abruptly found that he was upon his back on the hard ground, staring up at the canopy above, white hot pain threatening to blot out all other thought. Raising a hand dazedly to clutch at his shoulder he started as it encountered a hardness that should not have been there and lowering his eyes frowned in puzzlement at the pair of arrows protruding from his body. Where had they come from? The pair he had been fighting had no bows? He looked up as a familiar face cast a shadow over his own, trying to remember where he had seen it before but his vision was growing cloudy and the memories he was clawing at were slippery as blood. A voice, soft and soothing, began to murmur somewhere in the distance and he found himself giving in to the pull of its serenity. He closed his eyes and let go.

A/N

Duathion = Son of darkness.

*Hides behind computer screen* Please don't kill me!

Thanks again for reading and to NirCele, Obsidianglasses and Karina for taking the time to review. It means so much guys :)