Chapter 3

Disclaimer: JRR Tolkien owns Middle-Earth. In case you were wondering. And nope, I'm not him. If I was I would be richer and far more dead. And male. And not writing this story, which is all in fun and not meant to legally harm anyone.

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"Daro!"

Merrie blinked at the tall, lithe figures as they appeared in the cave entrance. She wondered how long they had been standing there- they were difficult to see, blending in with the night. Even now she had difficulty seeing them silhouetted against the dying light of the setting sun.

They stepped forward and at last she could tell that they were dark haired, their builds were identical… as were their faces she realized a moment later. The identical faces were almost too pretty, though from the legs in their leggings they were definitely male. Still, she could tell no difference between the two of them, save that one held a bow and the other a sword.

Identical twins? She frowned as a memory skirted the edge of her mind, but before she could concentrate one of them spoke and she was distracted by the words. They were no language she had ever heard before, she was certain.

As they moved closer, Merrie found herself mesmerized. They moved like dancers. No, more than that. They made every dancer she had ever known look like a klutzy teenager, and a drunk klutzy teenager at that. No human could move like—No human. Oh god, elves? Twin elves?

Elf twins- didn't that Mean Something? There were elf twins in the books…

"Sioux!" Merrie turned to Sioux, only to find Sioux was not there. "SOUIX!" Merrie shrieked, looking around frantically.

There! She lay unmoving on the cave floor. Merrie leapt over a few dead goblins to kneel beside her friend. Sioux's red hair had escaped from her pony tail to spill around her in a fiery halo, her green eyes were closed, but her breathing was even. Distantly Merrie recalled having seen the redhead wrapped around a large goblin, throttling him, recalled the goblin banging into the cave wall…

Merrie prayed that Sioux had just gotten stunned from the impact.

"Sioux, wake up!" Merrie urged, the hot and graceful duo forgotten in her worry. "Please, please wake up…"

The forgotten twosome had not forgotten her. They watched her run to her fallen comrade and the one lowered his sword. He did not, however, sheathe it.

Merrie looked up in time to watch them move toward her, weapons out, but not appearing particularly inclined to kabob her. Still, Merrie stood up again and very nearly stepped away before she remembered to be brave. After all, this was an Adventure, apparently. Being brave always helped someone survive Adventures.

She held out a hand to keep them back.

"Who are you?" her voice was hoarse and trembled nearly as much as the hand she held up. One of them spoke, but again, she could not make out the words.

Damn it, JRR, you had to be a linguist, she reflected, annoyed at this turn of events. Frantically she searched her brain an elvish word or two and wished that Sioux would wake the hell up.

"Mellon?" she asked at last, hoping she hadn't screwed up the pronunciation too badly.

Slowly the twin on the left lowered his bow, though Right still didn't put his sword away. The thing gleamed eerily in the fading light. To Merrie the gleam looked uncomfortably hungry.

Left spoke rapidly. She shook her head at the string of unfamiliar syllables until one word leapt out at her.

"Imladris?" she caught at the familiar sound. That meant Rivendell didn't it? Maybe they were going the right way after all. Both of the elf twins looked intrigued as she parroted the word anyway.

Right spoke now and she realized it was yet another language. This one though… Merrie frowned, trying to wrap her brain around the syllables. Here and there she caught familiar or near-familiar words but just as she thought she might catch the meaning it fell away.

Three sentences in she very nearly screamed.

"Stop!" she implored, shaking her head and giving Right a helpless shrug. "I don't get that one either."

The twins fell silent, regarding her with odd looks. Merrie began to feel an uncomfortable kinship with the pandas in the LA zoo.

She shifted her weight and turned to look at Sioux, willing her to wake up. As she looked back at the twosome, a nervous cough escaped her. Followed by another.

It felt as if she was ripping her own lungs out. Merrie choked on the pain and grabbed her side, which felt surprisingly wet. And sticky. And warm… Oh hell, was that blood? Her blood?

In the near darkness of the cave she couldn't make out much, but she knew her tank top should have been white. It wasn't white now. White wasn't that dark. She could see the other side faintly reflective in its whiteness, but this side…

In the interim between the fall of the last orc and the miscommunication with the double mint elves, Merrie's survival instincts had had time to slip back into the dark genetic cave they came from. Now, staring at the wet, sticky, dark stains, smelling the strange coppery blood smells from the orc bodies no longer echoed through her like the call for pizza. Now it felt like the morning after she'd hoped would never come.

She lifted a trembling hand, staring hard. Her blood. Her blood, bleeding out… Sioux. Sioux was bloody… Ohmigod. Blood!

Merrie turned toward the double McHotties, who were now talking to each other in low voices, using the pretty first language.

"This sucks," she prounounced, just as she felt the world narrow down to the point of light at the cave mouth. Her knees buckled. She didn't fight the fade to black.

If life made any sense at all she would soon be waking up in Egyptian cotton sheets, safe in the arms of Colin. Or Anton. Fabrizio. Carl…

Sioux wasn't exactly sure what the bloody hell was going on, but she knew someone was going pay for it.

Her head hurt… Dear god, what had been in that smoothie? Some new kind of acid, her rational brain decided. Which explained the headache. Acid hangover.

It was a good explanation: more or less logical, explaining that which needed explaining, and did not involve fictional creatures or locations. It was reassuring, simple, and allowed her the luxury of righteous indignation at the nameless café patron who had slipped her acid.

She was just warming up to the idea when she opened her eyes and found herself staring at the extremely hot young man with pointy ears and medieval regalia that was kneeling over her.

Sioux's brain had just enough time to wonder what kind of conditioner he used in his shiny dark hair before it went off to a short break to the Andromeda galaxy.

"Wha-I—Um..?" she managed.

He smiled, perhaps attempting reassurance. Her hormones kicked into overdrive, and she stared mutely at his offered hand for a full minute before she realized he meant to help her stand.

Grateful more for the chance to touch him than for the assistance, Sioux returned his smile and took the hand.

He was hot, he had pointy ears, but he was male. Male she could work with. Her timid smile widened just a little as she gained her feet.

"Thank you," she told him, politely releasing his hand.

"Glass nín." He said it slowly, in a tone she had last heard from her Spanish teacher.

"Glassnin?" She repeated.

He smiled, as if to say "Close enough" but before any further language lessons could ensue, a sound off to the right drew her attention.

Sioux blinked rapidly, wondering if she was perhaps slated for a second waking-up session. There he was over there, bending over Merrie.

Twins, she realized belatedly. The thought took a back seat, however, as she hurried toward her friend.

The elf twin tending Merrie stood up as Sioux ignored him. Her attention was all for Merrie, who was laying still, her breathing ragged. Bandages had been wrapped around her middle, but it looked as though they were already soaking with blood.

The image of a goblin holding a rusty spear flitted through Sioux's mind.

Oh God, no. This could not be happening. Tetanus? Did they have tetanus here? Well, did it matter when they had bloody damned goblins?

"Merrie," she whispered desperately. "Merrie, wake up! You have to wake up. You cannot leave me here. Please? Please, come on, get up lazybones…"

She would have continued, but a hand on her arm startled her tirade out of her head. She turned to glare at the offender, only to make a startling discovery: It was physically impossible to glare at the elf twins.

Something about the serene and glowing hotness, probably. Like trying to stay unhappy while staring at Orlando Bloom.

Sioux stood up to save her neck from craning up to see the beautiful if ridiculously tall elf.

"Im Elrohir," her language teacher informed her. "Elladan," he added, gesturing to the other.

Looking between the two of them, Sioux deduced that this information would be helpful for all of ten minutes, or until they moved closer together. There was no difference that she could see. Tall, lithe, dark hair, gray clothing, lots of weapons, dreamy. Nope, no differences.

I wonder if twins look alike everywhere? She laughed at the thought, and wondered if she might get the chance to find out. Well, not with these two, she remembered. Elves didn't do sex. She'd always thought it was silly idea, and looking at these two she decided it was a complete waste.

"Sioux," she said, pointing at herself. "Suilad, Elrohir," she added, hoping that she got it right and that it really meant hello. She thought it did, but she'd probably gotten it from a fanfic, in which case who knew if it was right… other than the elves…