Chapter 2

Legolas jolted back into motion. He could not believe it. Sauron had fallen. Frodo had done it. The threat was over. But his task was not. He had a promise to keep. He looked apprehensively at the rubble from Sauron's tower. Orc corpses mingled with giant boulders and ash...

The memory of how agitated Faramir had looked strengthened his resolve. He could still hear him. "Legolas, please. I would not ask this from anyone, much less you, but we need to save them. And he has her."

Legolas made his way over the rubble into the late enemy's territory. There were still some orcs about, but without their master's will to drive them, he made quick work of any who came in his way. He made for Minas Morgul, under which the dungeons were said to be, hoping the prisoners had not been killed in the crumbling.

He picked up the sound of running footsteps over the sound of the exploding Orodriun. He readied himself for fighting. But it was not orcs appearing from behind the boulder. They were human. Only barely, though. They had been tortured. He wordlessly pointed them in the direction of the army and continued onward. He met more prisoners as he neared the place, some supporting the weakest that could not walk. He rounded a boulder and paused to take in the scene. A host of orcs had decided not to let a potential meal escape and was attacking the emerging humans. A handful still strong enough were fighting the almost two score orcs. Legolas joined the fray, preventing the orcs from pursuing those who had already escaped.

"Aronir," a female voice drifted from the fighting, "take the others; they are turning to them. Get them out of here and be quick about it."

"Commander..." a voice objected.

"Don't argue. Get them to safety."

"Yes, Commander."

Legolas saw four figures retreating and hasten over to the escapees, helping them to safety. He finished the last orc he could reach and turned towards the fighting figure of the woman. She eliminated the last five orcs with careless grace. She pulled a face as she wiped her sword on the garment of a dead orc, before straightening and making her way to him.

Legolas's breath caught. Surely this was not possible? This skeletal, bruised and bloodied creature without hair and with hollow eyes could not be... "Eylra," he choked out. He regained control of his limbs and hurried towards her. "Eylra, what in the name of..."

He stopped short when the tip of a sword was pressed against his throat. Ice blue eyes regarded him. "I am not who you think I am." Her voice was heavily accented as she spoke Sindarin.

Legolas gathered his thoughts. Of course. The resemblance was astounding, but there were subtle differences now that he looked for it. She had a stronger, more square jaw for one, and lighter eyes. The rest was covered in filth.

"My lady, I believe I know exactly who you are." She snorted. He pushed her sword away and gave an overly pompous bow. "Lady Rundil, a pleasure to make you acquaintance."

"So you are the prince of Mirkwood. Figures," she started walking to where the others had gone.

He knew his surprise showed on his face, but she ignored it. He followed her.

"Who sent you?" she asked.

"Lord Faramir."

"How is he?"

"Healing." She did not ask for details.

"Boromir?" He winced. Her features hardened. "Know anything about Eylra?"

"She should be safely in Imaldris."

"Is that where he dragged her? Will she be able to return or will I have to go and retrieve her?"

Legolas felt is lips twitch. "It Imaldris we speak of, my Lady. Not Gondolin."

"Glorfindel," she growled and threw something. Legolas heard a grunt and looked left sharply. An orc was sinking to its knees, a dagger in its throat. How had he not heard it approaching? And how had she? Rundil pulled he dagger free and wiped the blood on the creature's clothes.

They reached the field where tents were being set up and were promptly surrounded by a throng of Gondorian soldiers, all talking excitedly.

"Shut it, will you?" she grumbled.

They quieted down immediately. Her eye fell on a young soldier and she lifted an eyebrow. "Dirrion, why don't you brief me?"

He nodded and grimly gave her a summary of the battles so far, including the one in which Faramir was hurt.

She nodded. "Thank you, Soldier. Now go clean up, you smell like a pack of orcs."

"You are definitely the orc here," one of the men told her, scrunching his nose. Rundil gave him a feral grin. "Well wee human, I think I will have you for supper. Man-flesh."

The men around them hooted and laughed. Rundil punched him on the bicep. "You are on dishes tonight, soldier."

The man pursed his lips. "Yes, commander."

"Oh cheer up, I am resigning. Then you will get that promotion you have been after."

His fists clenched. Legolas stepped forward before it could escalate.

"Milady," her started. He was interrupted by chortles. He blinked at the soldiers. They quieted. "Just," one shrugged helplessly. "She is no lady."

"Her sister, now," another added, winking.

Rundil hit him upside of the head. "Don't talk of my sister like that. It's disgusting. Like she would look at the likes of you." She jerked her head to Legolas. "He is much more her type."

Legolas fought the blush rising to his cheeks. Rundil tilted her head. She was seeing far too much. He cleared his throat. "We need to get you to the healers."

That certainly got her attention. "I'd rather not."

"You should really have your injuries looked at."

Rundil snorted. "I already know what is wrong."

"The sons of Elrond have skills beyond..." he trailed off when she spun to him.

"They are here?" she hissed.

Legolas took a step back. "I... yes. Yes, they are."

"Well, then, by all means, lead the way, princeling!" she swept her hand forward imperially. In that moment she reminded him so much of his father that Legolas did not consider being offended until they were halfway to the healers' tent.

Rundil fumed as she stalked in the pretty prince's wake. As if weeks of enduring the witch king were not enough! Now she had to deal with elves in scores. And the dreadful duo decided to show up. Oh, how she would love to get her hands on those scrawny necks! How she would...

Her musings came to a halt when the blond prince did. He gestured to the tent in front of them uncertainly. Rundil swept past him and into the structure.

"Elrondion!" she yelled.

Two heads popped up. Elladan came tentatively closer, eyes narrowed.

"I will not disturb the sick," she hissed at him. "But know this," her eyes flicked to Elrohir, who she knew could hear every word. "When you leave this structure I will feed your insides to the wargs that haunt the hills and your eyes to the great spiders. Your spleens will be..."

"No." Elladan's face were dawning with horror. "No, no, no." He shook his head.

"How are you still here?" Elrohir's whisper came. "You rode with us over four centuries ago."

Rundil bared her teeth at them. "You will have no rest. Mark my words."

"Please, have mercy," Elladan said.

There was a soft cough from behind. "Erm, lady Rundil..." Legolas started.

The twins froze and then cracked up with laughter.

"Lady," Elladan chortled.

Rundil rolled her eyes. "What is it, your highness?"

"The sons of Elrond are the best healers around. They are vital to many lives. I am certain what they have done to offend you can be settled without any blood spilt?"

Rundil's eyes narrowed. "Do you have any idea what injury they have caused me?"

Legolas stepped back. "No. But," Rundil turned around to Elladan.

"Now, Elrondion, you have a choice. Either you come outside and we settle this honourably..."

"Miss Rundil, I really must ask-"

"Quiet," Rundil held up a hand to the prince. "Or, I will be forced to..."

"Surely enough blood has been-"

"Shut up!" both Elladan and Elrohir hissed. "Let the woman finish, will you?" Elrohir added.

"Thank you," Rundil said.

"Of course," Elladan said. "Elflings these days."

Rundil felt her lips twitch. Then she narrowed her eyes again. "After the grave injury you have done me, I have never been the same. I have fought off death century after century to fulfil my vengeance. You will not go unpunished. I will stalk your nights and ruin your days. Never will you find rest. Ever will you be awake, paranoid and suspicious like Finrod of old," Elrohir drew in a sharp breath. Rundil grinned, satisfied. "I will not rest until I have exacted my revenge in kind."

The genuine fear on their faces soothed Rundil's frayed temper.

"Surely not," Elladan said.

"Mercy," Elrohir pleaded. "Do you have any idea how I would look without hair?"

Elladan scoffed. "You would be fine. Me, on the other hand..." he shivered.

Legolas shook his head. "Wait. You are not planning on killing them?"

"Legolas," Elrohir said slowly.

"Yes?"

"The perianneth are behind that screen."

The prince gasped. "Sam and Frodo!" he hurried off.

Elladan shook his head. "Shame on you. They saved us."

Elrohir shrugged. "I just could not take it anymore."

Their heads swivelled to Rundil. "Now, Ardith," Elrohir started.

"I think we have been deceived, brother," Elladan said. "If I am not mistaken this is lady Eylra's sister. Rundil, is it not?"

"No!"

"Well done, Elladan. You always were the sharper one."

"Oi!"

Rundil swivelled to Elrohir. "Oh, so it was you who came up with that horrid idea?"

He shook his head vehemently. "He's the smart one, like you said. He made all the plans. Bullied me into going along. I was too stupid to come up with an argument against."

"That's what I thought."

Elladan shot a glare at his brother. "Now, Rundil, can we not let bygones be bygones?"

Rundil hissed and pointed to her head. "Do you see this? No hair. I have been hairless for four centuries!"

Both their faces turned to horror.

She listened to their stumbled apologies for some minutes before rolling lifting a hand. "I will exact my revenge. But first, draw me a bath, will you?" she pulled her tunic over her head, ignoring their scandalised protests and showed them her back. Both quieted immediately.

"Think you can fix it?"

A dark man walked in at moment, taking in the scene. "You were in Minas Morgul?" he asked her quietly.

"Indeed."

He nodded. "Come with me. I have just the thing."

Rundil lifted an eyebrow and pulled her tunic back on. "I like this one. Elrondions, I will be back for you. Do not become complacent."

She followed the man to a screen, where he motioned her into a tub with a hearty smelling herb in the water. Rundil breathed it deeply. "Well, aren't you just full of surprises."

He regarded her steadily and did not even blink when she undressed and got into the tub. "Well, at least the elves did not mess you up," she muttered.

"You are not fond of elves?" he asked mildly.

"I find most of them trying. Except Glorfindel. I love Glorfindel."

For the first time surprise flickered on his face. Rundil closed her eyes and leaned back in the tub. This day was shaping up better than she had expected.