2. She woke up to a world that was nearing dusk …

She woke up to a world that was nearing dusk. Opening her eyes carefully she took a while to take in her surroundings. A small fire was burning next to her, the warmth penetrating her limbs. The forest and the fog had made place for a low kind of vegetation, tough looking shrubs and boulders but no trees. A clear sky with unfamiliar stars stretched out above her. The sun had only just disappeared from the horizon. The zenit was a dark ink blue, slowly fading out to soft pastels near the horizon.

She tried to move, but the bruise on her face hurt and she groaned.

Immediately she heard shuffling next to her and warm hands helped her upright. While sitting up she noticed that her hands were tied behind her back, the rope cutting her skin.

One thought entered her mind like lightning: her katana! Where was it?

She looked frantically around ignoring the stares of the twins. She located it strapped to the saddle of a large grey stallion. She sighed. It was safe. A distant part of her was reassured that her fear of losing that sword seemed stronger than the fear for her own wellbeing. That gave her some hope that she would keep a level mind, level enough to make it out of this situation alive.

The brothers seemed to instinctively guess the workings of her brain. The one that captured her motioned to the sword and spoke, his words calm and soft. It sounded friendly, but she could not understand. After awhile he said in a slow determined voice: "Do you speak common tongue my lady?"

She was surprised that he knew English, although his accent was strange. It reminded her of something southern, soft and singing. But it was unlike any accent that she ever heard in her life. She slowly raised her eyes to meet his grey ones and nodded.

He smiled softly. "Please forgive us, my lady. These lands are full of enemies. We did not recognize your attire or weapon and almost could not decipher your accent. We thought it best to pacify you quickly until we reached a safer spot."

She stared at him, not understanding.

He tried again: "The forest is an evil place. Orcs and Wargs lurking everywhere." he spat the last words out.

"Orcs?" She felt like she was losing her mind. Orcs? That was an invention from J.R.R. Tolkien right? This was just impossible. But here she was, in an unknown landscape with two elves. Almost every bone in her body felt it: she was no longer home.

"Please, you must eat something my lady." he hesitated for a moment. "I will untie your hands, but do not betray our trust. You cannot outrun us in these lands." His old eyes penetrated hers and she looked away, nodding in aprehension.

He kneeled down to cut her ties and his smell overwhelmed her modern nose again making her flinch. He interpreted her reaction as fear and smiled to reassure her and offered her some food. She rubbed her wrists. The rope left an angry red imprint in them.

She ate a few bites from the bread but focussed on the fruit mainly. She felt like her stomach could not bear something as heavy or dry as bread. The man or Elf rather, handed her a roughly carved wooden cup with water and she drank eagerly.

When she finished, she stared at them curiously. Stuck in the wilderness with two Elves! They were just amazing to look at, their hair almost as black as that of her own. They both had it pulled backwards on top, on the side a complex pattern of braids showing off their ears. The hair fell in long tresses on their backs. The braids seemed the only thing that differed between them, the techniques were different. She guessed their hairstyle was mainly practical, since it would not fall into their eyes while riding or fighting. Their eyes were of a light grey that seemed to flicker silver when the light changed. Their features were nobel, finely chiseled, but very male; a strong jawline, high cheekbones and graceful straight eyebrows, their lips full but straight.

They were dressed in grey and black colors. Their clothing patched and worn down from travel. Each wore a heavy light-grey cape with a beautiful wooden clasp in the shape of a running wolf at their neck. There were no other adornments. Even the sheaths of their swords were made of a dull black leather.

Their movements disclosed their warrior physique. They moved with a panther-like grace. Smooth hard muscles showing through their clothes. She was attentive to detail and the callous on their hands betrayed intensive sword fighting, almost daily.

She recognized them for what they were easily: she was captured by two seasoned and highly experienced warriors. There were not many sword fighters who could take her on in her own world. But here in Middle Earth looking upon two Elf warriors, she quickly decided her experience was meaningless until she proved herself. She would do well to not underestimate them.

She wondered what they thought about her. She must look odd in her modern clothing, wearing pants and a foreign sword.

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She happened upon none other than Elrohir and Elladan, Elrond's sons. And like she suspected, they were exceedingly puzzled by this strange girl that they found in the woods. As was their habit, they were hunting for orcs and warg, cleansing the lands of their foul presence and keeping track of the movement of the Enemy.

They did not expect a girl in those woods. She was human, but strange looking. Her hair was as if dyed in ink, her eyes were dark slits almost, slightly slanted. They never saw a human with eyes like that. Her body was petite and slender but agile like a willow reed.

She carried a sword of peculiar shape and unknown origin. The design beautiful in its simplicity. It was not uncommon for she-elves to carry swords, but humans were another matter. Her hands were calloused in such a way that pointed to heavy daily sword practice. When they secured her to the horse, they noticed her hard muscled body and a fresh bruise on her right cheek.

However improbable, she seemed to be a warrior like themselves. It surprised them, there were not many women practising the art of sword fighting. But instead of judging her warrior identity as an indecency, they were eager to see her wielding that blade. They were master sword fighters themselves, not many could compete with their fighting skills in Middle-Earth and they were curious to her style. Even her clothing staved her status as warrior; male looking and made from strange black fabric, als black as her hair. They were of practical design, clearly made for moving. They secretly made up their mind: they suited her.

And then there was her peculiar attachment to her weapon. It was the first thing on her mind when she woke up. Only when she noticed it strapped to Elladan's horse did she relax. This sword was her most prized possession, there was no doubt. They thought it comforting that she only feared the loss of her blade. Her lack of fear for her own wellbeing would make their survival in the wilderness easier.

There were more strange things about the girl that they could not place: her accent was strange, harsh. It reminded them of the languages of the north of bygone eras. But those languages had died and their sound had not been heard in Middle Earth for centuries. Even her smell was strange, clean and flowery, as if she took an extensive bath in the woods where they found her. It was odd. She seemed to hail from far beyond the borders of Middle Earth. She looked and felt like an outsider to them.

Her lantern seemed a device developed by the Enemy, its source of power invisible, the light unlike anything they ever encountered in Middle Earth. They tucked it away in one of the horses' saddle bags. Afraid to use it again. It strengthened their judgement of her: they needed to bring her to their father. He would not want to let her roam the lands without debriefing her, she was too strange. She might be holding valuable information or be a spy for the enemy.

Imladris was a journey of many days still, she could not stay unconscious permanently. So they decided to treat her well to make the trip more relaxed and easy. They would catch her if she ran, they could each take turns in keeping watch. They might learn from her in the meantime. Get information from her that their father might not.

She would slow them down though. Mortals needed a lot of sleep to survive. They would have to give up on their normal travelling pace. If they encountered orcs, they suspected she could fight, but she was human, and female, her strength would be nothing compared to the northern orcs. They would have to watch over her to keep her alive.

She was a child in their eyes. She did not reach 25 years yet it seemed. She was sitting on the sandy soil stretching her feet towards the warmth of the fire. She wore open shoes, also of simple design, one strap around her ankles and one over her toes.

The brothers were wise. They deemed it improbable that she was an orc spy, but they kept room for some doubt. The Enemies workings were evil and subtle and not even Elf Lords could always discern lies from truth. The brothers were prepared for everything, but for now, they could only sense goodness in her eyes. She seemed to contain no evil. Only bitterness and pain just below the surface of her eyes. They wondered if she realised herself that it was there.

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Her angry voice tore them out of their reveries: "Where I am from it is polite to introduce yourself first to a stranger instead of hitting them."

They blinked at the crude manner in which she addressed them. Elrohir bit at her: "And where are you from, stranger?"

She deserved that. Gritting her teeth, she snapped: "Nanda yo omae-wa?* First your names!"

Elrohir merely shrugged, not impressed by her apparent cursing and accusations. But Elladan, her capturer said: "I think it not too late for politeness my lady, Elladan I am called, son of Elrond Peredhel, and this is my brother Elrohir. Please forgive us for doing you injustice."

She staggered inwardly. Elladan and Elrohir! Shimatta! She was in a Lord of the Rings story! This was not happening. NOT happening!

But it was happening. And they were looking at her expectantly. Trying to keep her face impassive, she said with a dry throat: "My name is Shimizu Rin. You can call me Rin."

"Rin?"

He rolled the word in his mouth, almost like tasting it. He said: "What a beautiful and strange name my lady. Short and simple but beautiful, like the design of your blade. Does it have a meaning?"

"It means 'severe or dignified'. Shimizu means 'clear water'."

"It seems that you carry a name that is as intriguing as strange...Rin…we are looking forward to make your acquaintance. But be warned. Do not cross us, or we will cease to be friend and turn into foe."

She held her chin up defiantly: "Am I your captive?"

He looked somewhat apologetic: "I would rather not use that phrasing. I rather see you as our guest and we will guard your safety in these lands. But we are bound to bring you to our father who resides in Imladris."

"Imladris?"

"Maybe you are more familiar with the name Rivendell?"

"And if I do not wish to go there with you?"

"I am afraid you have no choice Rin. Our chance encounter might be influenced by other forces. Our father will debrief you. If your words are true and you pose no threat you are no doubt free to return home."

"Home…." she contemplated on the concept and fell silent.

Elladan cocked his head to the side, noticing her hesitation: "Do you not wish to go home?"

She stared into the distance and said: "I do not have a home."

"But you must hail from somewhere?"

She fell silent, deep in thought. It was obvious that he tried very subtly to prie information from her, she was very tempted to just tell them her story. But she only said: "I will go with you willingly and will not break your trust." Then silent for a heartbeat and hesitantly: "Your father, if he is a wise man. Maybe he can guide me to find my home."

Elladan looked slightly confused but smiled warmly. "A wiser man than my father is not easy to find. He will offer you council if it is needed."

She nodded silently at his words.

"Rin, I must warn you. Rivendell is still many leagues from here and many challenges lie ahead of us. You must follow our directions for your own safety." Elladan spoke softly, staring at her intently. "We will take turns riding with you during the day to not fatigue our horses."

"Challenges?"

"Yes, challenges. We hunt the Enemy. That is our purpose. Your mortality is a problem. If we encounter enemies we will destroy them and you need to defend yourself. Are you experienced with that blade?"

"Only as a sport"

"Sport?" Elladan looked confused.

"Yes, sport. Practicing for pleasure and honour and to maintain physical health? Not to use in a real fight."

Elrohir looked up then, his low voice drenched with menace: "Tch...you better ready yourself then girl. If you face your enemy as a sport, your life is forfeit."

She narrowed her eyes at him, but Elladan smiled apologetic to her. "Forgive my brother Rin. He only speaks when necessary and will not concern himself with the feelings of others. It is nothing personal."

Elrohir grunted, getting up briskly, walking to the edge of the firelight. He positioned himself on a big boulder with a smooth top, pulling his cloak around him, the colour melting with the dusk.

"I vowed not to kill."

Elladan frowned at her statement. "I am uncertain why you would make a vow like that Rin. It is a vow that threatens your survival in the wilderness. Please reconsider or your safety will be uncertain."

She bit her lip, thinking of the pain of her past. She wasn't completely honest. She had vowed to not kill their enemies, but let justice run its course. This was different. If she would refuse to kill she would risk her own safety but also theirs, since it was obvious that they wanted to escort her to Rivendell alive.

"It is a special vow reserved for my enemies. I have never killed, but I understand your concerns. So I hereby promise you that I won't hesitate when I need to defend myself or one of you."

Elladan looked surprised at her last remark. Elrohir laughed out loud from his high seat. Apparently Elven ears were extremely good. She made a mental note of that.

She snapped at them: "What can I say… you have not seen me fight yet."

"I must say that I look forward to that occasion." Elladan stared at her without laughing, his eyes penetrating hers, a dark look in his features. She could not place it and she was taken aback by his reaction. They were a bit odd, those brothers, she decided.

She looked into the fire again, her mind going haywire. It was too much to take in. How did she get here? What kind of danger was she in exactly? What if she go hurt? There was no hospital here, she could die easily. While her mind was whirling with questions, she noticed Elladan's eyes resting on her. His eyes seemed to be glued to her, as if he tried to extract all her secrets by just watching her. And she had the eerie feeling that he could do just that.

Suddenly he smiled at her, his eyes soft. "Just try to get some sleep lady Rin… we have a long day ahead of us."

"Please call me just Rin. I have not earned such a title."

"Very well Rin" he said warmly.

Satisfied, she lay down on the ground. It was cold and she was shivering. Elladan seemed to notice this and offered her his mantle. "Elves do not experience cold like humans Rin. Please take it." He lay the mantle over her small form. "Are you in pain?"

"Just that bruise..."

Elladan put his hand on her cheek and she felt a lightness entering there. The throbbing pain was still there but seemed less invasive all of a sudden. She relaxed instantly despite the intimate gesture that felt just odd, since they barely knew each other.

"Is this elf magic?"

"Magic? I do not know what you mean. I am just putting my hand on that bruise."

He started to hum a soft melody that seemed to penetrate her emotions, making her feel peaceful. She opened her mouth to speak but a sudden tiredness waved over her and she disappeared into darkness.

When the girl finally seemed to be sleeping the brothers softly discussed their new companion.

"I think this child is innocent, brother. Her words ring of truth."

Elrohir shrugged. "You inherited fathers talent for detecting the truth. It is not my talent. My talent is to distrust that which seems innocent."

Elladan smiled. He knew his brother all too well. "Fine. You stay vigilant then and watch my back brother."

"Aye, I will. You will thank me if things go amiss." He sniffed the air, staring into the distance. "Can you not feel the presence of the enemy? Their strategies and the timing of her appearance might be no mere coincidence."

Elladan looked at the stars. "The enemy is moving, yes. I can feel it too brother. We need to move before light is upon us or we will be hunted down all to quickly."

"We need to reach the forest, so we have the advantage."

"Aye, the forest. I long for those trees again." Elladan said smiling.

Elrohir nodded looking upon the starry night as well. "She is a puzzle, don't you think brother? She seems other worldly. She looks like nothing we ever encountered."

Elladan grinned. "Aye, she seems alien to this world, but quite beautiful, don't you think?"

Elrohir looked at his brother sharply but couldn't help but grin. "Yes, an alien beauty. And still a child." he chided.

"She is an adult in the human world."

"That is something I will never understand of mortals. How can she be an adult being not even 25 years of age? What experience does she have in life?"

"We do not know her yet. Experience comes with living life to the fullest, with disappointment and success, sorrow and happiness. And death haunts every step of mortal live, making every choice in life meaningful and intense. Experience does not necessarily come with years."

"You are right I guess, as always." he licked his lips: "She has a fine sword, I am like to see her wield it."

Ellandan looked at his brothers saddle where the hilt was sticking out. "Yes a very peculiar blade. I have never seen the likes of it in Middle Earth. Who knows brother, you might meet your equal in the art of the blade."

"Elbereth! A sword master hidden behind the mask of an innocent child! Alas! I will be doomed!"

They shared a boyish grin and then they fell silent, enjoying the feel of the night around them and each others presence. They were not in need of words. While other twins might grow apart in adulthood, or go their separate ways, they prefered a life together.

While they did socialize with others in Rivendell, they felt awkward being apart and lived together, sharing quarters, refusing to go separate ways in life. This routine had intensified after the tragic end of their mother who was kidnapped by orcs. They saved her in a brave solo rampage into the lair of the Enemy under the mountains. But she faded nevertheless, leaving Middle Earth by ship. Their grief drove them even further together, ignoring others in an almost sickly manner that worried their father and sister. Even more troublesome was their surrender to their urge for revenge, riding out whenever they could to hunt orcs, taking unnecessary risks. For the longest time Elrond thought his sons would fade by this darkness inside them, but it seemed that embracing their urges healed some part of them, creating a strange kind of balance.

After centuries, the Elves in the House of Elrond had gotten used to the recluse twins and they earned respect for their deeds, whatever their motivation was. They monitored the borders of the North, forging an alliance with the Dunedain. They reported regularly to their father, providing him with the latest intelligence on the movement of the Enemy. The lands surrounding Elrond's House would long be trampled by nightmares, if it was not for their ever present vigilance.

They had no eye for other matters in life, like matters of the heart: elleths in search of love always met disappointment, because the brothers, in the end, always chose each other over outsiders. Within a culture where monogamy was the highest and most treasured way of celebrating love they stood out in a negative way. Elleths learned to keep their hearts away from them in danger of theirs being broken. And so, during their long lives love did not separate them.

They did not mourn love. They cherished their love for each other. Their time in the wilderness was the most precious to them. The wilderness where they could be alone with their thoughts, the wind, the trees, the animals. And their old grief. The grief that seemed to only temporarily lessen when their blades cut through orc necks and orc blood splattered on their skins.

They sat for a long time on the boulder. Listening to the life around them. They could sense the growth of the land, the longing for the warm light. It was more faint than the land of Hulst where the stones mourned loudly the passing of Elves long gone, but they could feel the life around them nevertheless. The sky stretched above them as a gigantic dome filled with stars. After some time Elladan wished his brother a good night and sat by the fire facing Rin.

She looked peaceful sleeping. Her mouth was slightly open, a drop of saliva on her bottom lip reflected the light of the fire, giving her lips a sensual appeal. Her ink black hair shone in the flickering flames. Her finely chiseled features were relaxed giving her a fragile appearance which was deceitful. She did not look like a sword fighter sleeping there. He smiled, taking her in. Then he took on a meditative pose, sitting up straight, and stared sightless into the night.

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*Nanda yo omae-wa? = Japanese: Who do you think you are?