Chapter 4: On the Borders
Summary: Feeling a little idle, Elrohir accompanies Rumil on what turns out to be anything but a normal patrol.

That was it; he had had enough. Nimriel's cheeriness was just not going to work for him today. His mood was too foul for even the bright and active princess of Mirkwood to clear the cloud lingering over him. Elrohir was idle, and in need of something to do. Escorting Nimriel around Lorien was not the task he had in mind to keep busy. He needed something to do, some excuse to get away. And, he needed it fast.

It did not help that Arondil and Celeron were spending the day with Celeborn to survey the lands, nor did it help that Elladan and Legolas had gone off to the Valar only know where. That left Elrohir stuck with Nimriel for the entire day. Unless some suitable excuse to leave the princess to her own devices presented itself before him, he had no other choice. Saying he was going to take a walk with Orophin wouldn't help; the Galadhrim had gone off with Haldir to train some new apprentices. And, Rumil was about to go on patrol soon. Elrohir was in a tight fix, and he didn't like it.

The idea of escorting Thranduil's children to Lothlorien had been a wonderful thought. Arondil and his siblings were eager to visit the wood, and Elladan and Elrohir were willing to escort their friends there. It was the perfect opportunity for the twins to get away from their duties in Imladris for a few days. But, after three days of idle time, Elrohir was getting bored. He wanted to do something, anything to occupy his body, which was starting to get fidgety. Today, he had promised to escort Nimriel around the grounds. He was not looking forward to the task though he thought of the Mirkwood princess like his own sister. But, he had promised her, and Elrohir didn't want to disappoint the she-elf.

The sound of light footsteps upon fallen leaves drew his attention. Turning, Elrohir found himself facing Nimriel as she raced up to him; behind her strolled Galadriel and a few of the Lady's handmaidens. The Lady smiled upon seeing her grandson, to which Elrohir gave her a polite bow in return. The princess of Mirkwood skipped up to the Peredhel twin, hugging him tightly as if he had been one of her brothers.

"Forgive me, Elrohir," the young princess said. "But, I'm afraid I will have to break off our engagement for today. Lady Galadriel has asked me to join her as she travels around the city today." Nimriel stared up at Elrohir with apologetic eyes, a slight pout on her rosy lips. "You are not upset, I hope?"

"Nay, I am not," he replied, laying a chaste kiss upon her brow. "I will find ways to engage myself. Please enjoy yourself today, Nimriel. There are a great deal of wonders in the city you have not yet seen. Grandmother would be a more suitable guide for you than I would be." The princess beamed, presenting him with another tight hug and a chaste kiss to the cheek before returning to Galadriel's side. The Lady smiled knowingly at her grandson as she led Nimriel and her maidens away.

"Thank you, grandmother," Elrohir whispered before rushing off to ready himself. If he was quick enough, he would just be able to catch Rumil before the Galadhrim left on patrol. Perhaps today wouldn't be so boring after all. Some steps away, Galadriel smiled as her grandson nearly ran off. Nimriel giggled at her side.

"I suppose he was rather enthusiastic about your engagement for the day being broken," the Lady commented as she began to stroll off in the opposite direction. Nimriel fell into step beside her, as Galadriel's handmaidens trailed behind them, talking amongst themselves.

"I felt awful that Elrohir was stuck escorting me around the city today," the princess commented. "My brothers all went off today, so that only left Elrohir for the task. I would have enjoyed his company, but I know he would not have enjoyed mine."

"It was a kind thing for you to release him, Nimriel. Elrohir will be very grateful towards you later. He will be much happier patrolling the borders than wandering the city."

"I know, my lady. Which is why I had to come up with some excuse to let him go." A moment's pause passed between them before Nimriel spoke again. "Do you think Elrohir will tell him today?" Galadriel smiled; so, she had not been the only one in assessing Elrohir's present emotional state. Even in the short amount of time she had been acquainted with the twins, Nimriel had developed a keen understanding of how Elladan and Elrohir dealt with their emotions differently. Galadriel accounted it to the fact that Nimriel was the youngest of four children, and the only female.

"Let us hope he will, child. But, Elrohir still has some conflicting emotions he must work out for himself. He must sort out his own feelings before he will be able to speak with Orophin." Nimriel nodded.

"I hope he finds the courage to speak of his heart soon."

"He will, child. He will." The two she-elves smiled at one another before continuing on their walk as they entered the heart of Caras Galadon. Silently, Nimriel wished Elrohir luck before striking up an animated conversation with the Lady of Lorien.

~~~~~~~~~~
"Rumil!" Upon hearing his name called, the flaxen-haired patrol guard ceased his preparations and looked up. Running deftly through the trees came Elrohir, knives strapped to his legs, bow and quiver slung over his shoulder. He wore the garments of the Galadhrim, gray cloak draped over his shoulders and over a gray-green tunic and leggings. The Peredhel twin looked as if he were ready for a hunting excursion.

"And, where are you off to this fine morning, meldir?" Rumil asked, shouldering his own bow as Elrohir stepped up to him.

"With you, of course." The Galadhrim threw him an incredulous look. "I'm bored, all right? I love Lorien, I love the company of Arondil and his siblings, but I'm bored! I've done nothing but wander Caras Galadon for three days now. Only the Valar know why I haven‘t gone insane with all this idleness."

"There are other...nightly activities you've been engaging in. With a bit of enthusiasm if I am not mistaken."

"Rumil!" The guardian grinned as Elrohir blushed furiously. "Anyway," the twin continued, fighting desperately to contain his embarrassment, "I thought I would join you on your rounds today."

"As you wish. But, I must warn you. Nothing exciting has been happening lately. I'm afraid you'll just be even more bored than you are now."

"I will risk it. Anything is better than sitting around with nothing to do. At least going on patrol rounds will keep my senses alert."

"If you say so. Let us be off then. We aren‘t due back until mid-evening." With bows in hand, the pair set off through the woods, the early afternoon sun shining down upon them. For a time they walked in silence, eyes and ears ever alert for sounds unfamiliar, or unfriendly. They kept their attentions focused on the areas around them, waving now and then to a Galadhrim they spotted in the shadows. Stealthily they moved, the Peredhel mimicking the cat-like grace of his Lorien counterpart; indeed, Elrohir and his twin had spent enough time with the Galadhrim to sometimes be mistaken as a member of the patrol.

"Rumil?" Elrohir said in a near whisper, breaking the silence around them.

"Hm?"

"Tell me something. What's Orophin like?" He flinched slightly as Rumil arched an eyebrow. "I meant, is he any different when..."

"When you're not here?" Elrohir nodded. "That's an odd question to be asking, especially since you've known him for so long. I mean, you two were friends even before I was born. What would possibly make you believe my brother is any different when you aren't here?"

"I don't know. Just something I've been wondering about, I guess." Rumil looked thoughtfully at his friend for a moment. Clearly Elrohir was disturbed by something, but Rumil didn't know the twin well enough to be able to deduce what it was. He had always believed his eldest brother and Elrond's youngest son were as close as friends could possibly be, without crossing into the borders of love. But, of course, the two had changed their relationship some years ago. Rumil couldn't say how they had changed, or what had caused it. He had merely observed that something had passed between them one day and altered how they viewed one another.

"Elrohir?"

"Yes?"

"Now it's my turn to ask you something." The dark-haired elf turned, tilting his head slightly in anticipation of the question. "How do you think Orophin feels about you?"

"Well...I..." The question had completely thrown Elrohir off-guard. He stopped walking as he contemplated the question. Such an idea had never occurred to him before, not even once. Elrohir had been wrapped up in trying to untangle the mess of his own emotions that he had completely failed to think about how Orophin felt about him. "I don't know really. He's always been there to help when I needed it. He offers his services, and himself, before I even have a chance to ask anything of him. I always thought it was because we were such close friends."

"You never thought he might be in love with you?"

"Well...at one point, yes. But, Orophin has always been the type of person to offer someone help no matter what it was they asked of him." Rumil wrinkled his nose in slight bemusement.

"Then, I'd say you are calling in some rather...unusual favors, mellon-nîn." Elrohir fell silent, understanding the truth behind Rumil's words. The guardian, in turn, used the silence to observe the mixture of emotions that crossed the twin's face. Elrohir was clearly confused about his own feelings, but knowing that Orophin might be in love with him was putting the twin's own emotions into a whole new perspective. "You never once thought he might love you?"

"No, not really...you really think he could?" Rumil sighed. It really wasn't his place to have this conversation with Elrohir. But, he had been the one to bring it up. So, there was no choice but to plunge headlong ,and hope he didn't rift apart Orophin's chances at being with the twin.

"I do think he is in love with you, Elrohir," Rumil explained gently. "Over the years you have been friends, he's taken few lovers. And, he's always admired you greatly. Orophin's always very enthusiastic when he finds out you will be visiting, or that he will be sent to Imladris. Whenever you're around, he's unusually cheery, and talks a little more than normal." He paused for a moment, allowing Elrohir to take it all in. "Something tells me, though, that you are unsure of yourself."

"Aye, I am." He couldn't help the slight slumping of his shoulders as Elrohir felt a little defeated. "I'm just confused, Rumil. "There's something there, something I feel for Orophin. I'm afraid to say it's love when it might not be. I'm afraid that if I call it love, and it's not, something horrible will happen."

"Risks, meldir. It's a risk. And, if I were you, I'd take it. It could be your only chance." His head snapped up; Rumil's words were echoing Galadriel's earlier lesson to Elrohir. They had both, in their own ways, told him to take the risk, seize the moment. He began to pick listlessly at a string on his cloak as he contemplated the course of action he should take.

/Perhaps I should. I might lose more if I keep silent and go on as is./

"Rumil, I..." Elrohir's words were cut off by the snap of a branch beneath a heavy footstep. The elves instantly armed themselves, bows drawn with arrows at the ready. They caught wind of the men before the group of half-dozen surrounded them. The men were of a rugged stock, their clothes patchy and dirty, the hairs on their face and heads bristly. Compared to the men of the Rohan and Gondor, these men were of a less mannered stock, their ways rough. Even the rugged Dunedain possessed more refinement than this group.

"Well well, we track a deer and look at what we've caught," one man said in Westron with a gruff voice. His dark eyes roamed over the elves' lean forms; the simple act caused the two of them to take an even more defensive guard.

"They're from Rohan," Elrohir whispered to Rumil in elvish, reading the accent in the man's speech. "Or were. Possibly of the race that was cast out when the horse lords settled into the lands."

"Aren't they a little far from their settlements then?" the Galadhrim answered. "And, what are they doing in the Wood anyway? Most men would not dare to enter, much less hunt here."

"Doubtless they do not realize where they have entered. Or, they are letting their stomachs control their minds."

"I don't understand a word they are saying," another man said to the first. "Maybe we shouldn't touch them. They could be casting a spell or something."

"What are they anyways?" a third man asked. "They ain't no men, too pretty. And look at them ears."

"Whatever they are," the first man answered, "we could sure use ‘em as slaves or something." Though he didn't understand a word they were saying, Rumil did not like the tone of the men's voices, or the way they were eyeing the elves.

The next moment found Elrohir and Rumil fighting off the men. Two fell swiftly to the accuracy of the elves' bows; another two fell as Elrohir drew a knife from its scabbard. He took down another man before he realized that there were more emerging from behind trees. In the heat of the fight, more men had snuck up on the elves without theirs senses alerting them. There came a crashing sound, followed by a soft thud. Elrohir's eyes widened as he watched a man approach Rumil from behind while the guardian was engaged with another. A moment later the elf fell from a blow to the head, hard enough to knock him out but not do any physical damage.

"Rumil!" With a flick of his wrist, Elrohir rip himself of his opponent, turning to help the fallen Galadhrim. A blunt, hard object struck him from behind. The blow sent stars into his eyes, his legs crumpling from underneath him. Losing his balance, Elrohir came crashing to the ground, losing his hold on his knife. The weapon went flying somewhere unseen as the men surrounded him, blackness creeping into his vision. The last Elrohir saw were the men standing over him, sneering down at the elf. The last thoughts that came to him before the darkness claimed him was of Orophin. And, then he saw and knew no more.

Translations:
Meldir-Friend
Mellon-nîn-My friend

---

Chapter 5: To Arms
Summary: Orophin, Haldir and Elladan become alarmed when their respective brothers do not return for the night. Along with the help of the Mirkwood princes, they seek out the missing elves.

All was quiet and calm within the borders of Lorien as evening approached, Arien sinking past the horizon for some much needed rest. The elves of the Golden Wood went about their business quietly as they prepared for the evening festivities. Lean figures garbed in gray seemed to glide over the grass ghost-like, as they moved to and fro, whispering to one another in hushed tones. Nothing at all seemed to be amiss...until a rather loud cursing drew the attention of nearly every inhabitant.

"Calm down, gwanur-nîn. A little backache isn't going to kill you, after all the other messes you‘ve been through."

"Says you! Would you please be a little more gentle next time you try to, so call, ‘help me?' "

"I would if you would stop fidgeting and squirming around like a child. Besides, this is all your fault. You should have paid more attention to your surroundings when you were wrestling with that apprentice. You are the March Warden after all. Falling down a hill while sparring, indeed." Haldir rolled his eyes at his elder brother, gingerly fingering his lower back as the two re-entered the city. A giggling sounded behind them; the two patrol guards turned to find Nimriel desperately trying to contain her amusement at their bickering.

"I suppose you find this all terribly funny, princess?" Haldir asked with a scowl. He didn't enjoy being the object of someone's amusement.

"Very much so," Nimriel replied. "I do have three elder brothers if you remember, March Warden. I always found entertainment in their bickering."

"Well, thank you very much for the compliment, sister dear," Celeron said in mock excitement as he appeared with Arondil and Celeborn. The eldest prince of Mirkwood and the Lord of Lorien tried to hide their smiles, which only seemed to fuel Haldir's unsettled mood.

"Personally," Arondil said, as Galadriel and her handmaidens joined them, "I always found the bickering that goes on between Celeron and Nimriel the most amusing."

"Hear hear!" The group turned as Legolas and Elladan appeared around a large mallorn to join them. "I have particularly found the arguments as of late the most entertaining," Legolas said with a grin. "What say you, Arondil?"

"I must concur. They have been more animated as of late. I do believe even Lord Elrond and Lord Glorfindel have found them of some entertainment. Why, I remember the lord of Imladris stifling some laughter just the other day. I think he surprised Lord Erestor, and I do believe that is a rather difficult task to accomplish. I must offer my congrats to the both of you." Laughter flowed freely through the gathering as Nimriel and Celeron flushed a furious shade of red.

"Has anyone seen Elrohir?" Elladan asked, looking around for his twin. "I thought he'd be back with Nimriel by now."

"Oh, I released him from our engagement," the princess explained, calming down from her embarrassment. "Elrohir seemed rather bored of late. I had thought he wouldn't be too enthusiastic about joining me today. So, I excused myself and went on a walk with the Lady Galadriel."

"I believe," Galadriel continued, "that Elrohir went off to find Rumil. They must have gone on patrol together."

"That would explain it then," Haldir commented. "Rumil isn't due back from his patrol for another hour. I wouldn't worry too much, Elladan." The March Warden quickly shot his brother a look, as if in an attempt to calm any worries Orophin might have had as well. "They'll be all right. Elrohir and Rumil are both adults, and warriors at that. They can more than take care of themselves. Let's just wait; I'm sure they'll return soon." Elladan nodded. He briefly cast a glance at Orophin, noting the slight anxiety in the Galadhrim's eyes despite his calm exterior. Orophin was clearly worried about both Elrohir and Rumil, but knew there was little he could do until they returned.

"In the meantime," Celeborn said, interrupting the uneasy silence that had settled in. "Let us proceed to the evening meal. It will do us no good to worry for now. Let us try to relax and await their return." The others readily agreed. They were eager to place their minds elsewhere as they left the clearing they had gathered in, and made for the inner parts of the city.

~~~~~~~~~~
Three hours had passed, and there was still no sign of either Elrohir or Rumil. The patrol that had gone out with them had long returned, but none of them could remember seeing either elf for the last few hours. Elladan was beginning to worry, and he wasn't the only one. Haldir and Orophin were also worried, for their brother and friend. Likewise, Elladan's rising anxiety was rubbing off on Legolas and his siblings, as well as Celeborn and Galadriel.

"I can't stand it anymore," Elladan said, nearly jumping out of his chair. "It's been too long. Even if they had been delayed, they should have returned by now. Something has happened to them. I can feel it, and I don't like it at all."

"We should begin a search for them," Haldir suggested. "Most of the Galadhrim have returned, and are in need of some rest before they are able to set out again. You, Orophin and I can set out for them right away, Elladan."

"We'll go as well," Legolas said, standing. He gently reached forward, cupping Elladan's hand in his own to reassure his lower. "Six will be better than three. More eyes to see, and more ears to hear." Arondil and Celeron nodded in the affirmative to their brother's suggestion. A faint smile of comfort passed over Elladan's face as he gently squeezed Legolas' hand gratefully. The Peredhel felt ready to fall apart at the knowledge that his brother had gone on patrol and had not come back. The twins had long vowed that if one fell, the other would shortly follow; nothing would tear their strong bond apart.

"We should leave soon," Arondil said. "The light is gone, but the moon is clear. However, if Elrohir and Rumil are taken, whoever their captors are, they have a great lead over us. The distance we must cover to retrieve our friends and kinsmen will be great. I do not wish to imagine what could have happened to them in the time spent."

"Yes, go quickly," Galadriel said as the hunters began to set off. "If they happen to return, we will send someone to inform you. But make haste, and return quickly with them." Elladan nodded before he, Haldir, Orophin and the princes of Mirkwood left to search for their missing kinsmen. He prayed to the Valar that Elrohir and Rumil were all right. If not, he swore their captors would not last long at his hands. Indeed the thoughts of Orophin and Haldir ran on a similar path, with those of the princes of Mirkwood not too far behind.

~~~~~~~~~~
It was good that Elrond's sons had spent many a year traversing the lands of Middle-earth in the company of the Dunedain of the North. The rugged Rangers knew from an early age which trails led somewhere and which didn't, which signs were genuine and which were falsified. Such skills, accompanied by the keen senses of the elvish race, had worked well in the past for Elladan. He hoped they would not fail him now.

The Peredhel searched the ground before him, crouching low to the moss to spot even the faintest of signs. Small droplets of perspiration collected at the edge of his brow as he knelt in deep concentration. He strained his senses to see and hear in the dark. Behind him, Elladan could hear the light footsteps of Legolas and Orophin as the two searched the surrounding area. Haldir had taken Arondil and Celeron a few yards ahead of them to scout the area. The search had been slow up until this point, the only signs they were able to make out were those of elves.

"Anything, meldir?" Orophin's voice whispered into Elladan's ear. It was becoming increasingly more difficult for the usually stoic Galadhrim to hide the discomfort in his voice. Elladan could sympathize. Orophin, too, had lost a brother, as had Elladan. As well, the guardian had also lost a lover, and a potential bonding partner. The dark twin could only imagine what turmoil this added distress could be causing Orophin; Elladan had always pushed the thought of losing Legolas far from his mind.

"I can only make out signs made by elves," Elladan replied in a calm voice. "Even if Elrohir and Rumil had been abducted by elves, which I highly doubt, there would be signs of a struggle. But, I cannot see one here." He sighed deeply, passing a hand over his tired eyes. A gentle hand came to rest on his shoulder; Elladan tilted his head, brushing his cheek across Legolas' knuckles. The flaxen-haired prince gave his shoulder a gentle squeeze. Up ahead, a footfall sounded before Celeron appeared in their view.

"Elladan, Orophin, Legolas," he called, his voice sounding a little grim. "You had better come and see this." Legolas frowned, disliking the sound of his brother's voice. He helped Elladan to his feet before the three elves followed Celeron back to where Haldir and Arondil waited.

It was not much further ahead where the March Warden of Lorien and the first prince of Mirkwood awaited their friends and brothers. Arondil leaned on his bow, looking out over the grounds around them; he seemed alerted, as if waiting for something. A frown creased Haldir's sharp features, the frown deepening when he caught sight of Celeron returning with Elladan and the others.

"What did you find?" the Peredhel asked, dreading the answer. He drew some small measure of comfort from Legolas' nearness at his elbow, and tried to give Orophin that same comfort. However, his face fell when he saw what Haldir presented him. The knife's edge glimmered in the moonlight as it rested in the guardian's palm; a flash of deep red showed where blood had dried on its edge and tip.

"We found it hidden in some overgrown moss beneath that mallorn," Haldir said, pointing to a tree just behind Elladan. "It wasn't taken, or damaged, so I can only speculate that it was dropped and forgotten. We also found this." Thus he produced Rumil's bow, the slender instrument intact, but its string broken, the two ends dangling from the bow tips. "It was some way up ahead, dropped likely as well."

"It's not Orc blood on the knife," Arondil commented quietly. "I very much doubt either one of them would have struck down an elf. So, then it must be..."

"Humans," Elladan finished as he knelt down, plucking a handful of bloody moss and a patch of brown fabric.

"But who?" Legolas asked. "Not men of Gondor or Rohan, and certainly not the Dunedain."

"Easterlings, maybe?" Celeron suggested. Elladan shook his head.

"Its some men from the tribes cast out by the Rohirrim. I can't imagine why they would attack elves. No man dares to walk within the woods of Lorien. Except for the Dunedain, who are elf-friends, all men seem to think the Lady of the Wood will cast a spell upon them for entering."

"Only starving men dare to enter Lorien," Haldir said. "They must have been hunting when they ran into Elrohir and Rumil. We should follow their tracks quickly, before anything happens." Elladan nodded and took the lead, searching the ground before him for more tracks. The others followed with feline grace, none making more sound than the other. Orophin kept close to Legolas, who was right behind Elladan ever step of the way. To say the Galadhrim was worried was an understatement. To say he was both terrified and enraged was closer to the mark.

/By the Valar and all that is good on Arda, please let them be alive and well./ He silently ran the prayer through his mind over and over as the search continued by the moonlight.
~~~~~~~~~~
An hour had passed since the search party had found the weapons and left the woods. They were in the open now, heading southeast. The tracks were becoming easier to read; the men left clear markings of their footsteps in the soft moss. Elladan read the signs easily, leading the others along an almost straight path. Soon, they came within sight of a thatched roof house, quickly constructed from some fallen trees and sitting near the edge of a small forest. The interior was lit by some candles, casting shadows upon the walls.

"Is that it?" Celeron asked in a whisper, as the elves crouched in the thick grass. Elladan nodded.

"How many are there?" Arondil asked.

"No more than a dozen," the Peredhel replied, glancing around the make-shift shelter. "There are seven tracks leading from Lorien. They meet up with three other tracks near the door." Gray eyes narrowed, peering into the darkness. Elladan pointed to a spot towards the left of the house. "There are three graves over there."

"Must be the three men Elrohir and Rumil cut down before they were taken." The elves perked up as their ears caught the shouts of some voices from within the house. Haldir and Orophin instantly recognized the voice of their brother, shouting out Elrohir's name. A heavy blow was heard being struck, followed by Elrohir's own voice calling out.

Silently, and with the same thought and intent, the party drew knives, swords and arrows. They crept towards the house in complete silence. Elladan motioned Arondil, Celeron and Legolas to stand guard on either side of the door to cut off anyone escaping. He nodded once to Haldir and Orophin, before the March Warden stepped forward. With a quick kick, Haldir had the door open, the force of the action blowing out the light and plunging the area into darkness and chaos.

Translations:
Gwanur-nîn-My brother
Meldir-Friend

---

Chapter 6: Nightmarish Sight
Summary: Unwanted thoughts flash through Elrohir's mind as he awaits torture from his unseen captors. Will help come in time?

He awoke slowly, and with a dull ache at the base of his skull. Elrohir shook his head to clear it, while blinking away the darkness. The inky black lingered, however, and the elf became aware of something covering his eyes. It was fastened on tightly; no amount of movement would loosen the blindfold. Likewise, his hands were bound behind him. Only Elrohir's legs were left free, though the knowledge was of little comfort. He began to wonder how many had attacked Rumil and he as the sound of shuffling feet and hushed voices came to his ears. Elrohir listened intently, catching pieces of the conversation being spoken.

"What are we gonna to do with ‘em?" a gruff voice asked. He was answered by a snort and another voice, the owner standing right next to Elrohir‘s head.

"Dun know. Gonna have to be careful with ‘em, though. They're quick, and can fight back. Had to knock ‘em both in the head before they killed us all."

"They came from that cursed wood, didn't they?" a third voice asked. This voice quivered as if in fear; if Elrohir had not been blindfolded, he would have observed the fear emanating from the man's eyes. "They say evil spirits live there. Maybe you shouldn't have taken them. We could become cursed, or worse! Who knows what'll happen to us when the spirits have found out we took two of their own. We should take them back, right now."

"Quit yer yappin'! We ain't gonna get cursed, so pipe down."

"Hey, one of ‘em is awake." There came some shuffling from next to Elrohir; he could only assume Rumil had been laid beside him. Sounds of a struggle could be heard, as well as the murmured voice of Rumil speaking some elvish obscenities directed towards their captors. The guardian was fierce, and a resourceful fighter; he was in many ways like his brothers and the Galadhrim. Elrohir could only assume Rumil also had his hands bound, otherwise the men wouldn't have stood much of a chance.

"Hold him still!" The struggle became more fierce as more men began to join in holding the single elf at bay. Rumil's curses grew more frequent as he promised much fear and death upon the men.

"He's a tough one to hold, won't stop squirmin'!" Fabric was torn away, the struggle between the elf and the men intensifying. Suddenly, a heavy blow was dealt, followed by someone gasping for air. "That should keep him still for a bit. Wake the other one." A pair of rough hands hauled Elrohir off the floor in none-too-kind a fashion. The Peredhel lifted his knee instinctively, connecting instantly with a soft mound of flesh. A yelp was heard before the elf felt himself thrown against a table top.

"Let us go," Elrohir hissed in the common tongue, suppressing the sound of pain he almost uttered as his arms crumpled beneath him.

"This one speaks our language. Ain't that a surprise." The elf moved to sit up, but the men were faster and quickly pinned him to the table. He moved his legs to kick the men off, but stopped when Elrohir felt the cool edge of a knife stroking the flesh just beneath his chin.

"Be a good boy, or else I'll have to ruin that pretty skin of yours." Elrohir cringed faintly at the voice murmuring so close to his ear; he could smell the mead on the man‘s breath. He bit down on his lower lip as the knife moved lower, skimming across his neck before resting at the neckline of his tunic.

"Elrohir!" Rumil's voice suddenly sounded. He made a sound as if to move closer; Elrohir could only assume the guardian was no longer blindfolded and was being forced to watch what was going on.

"Hold that one!" the man who had spoken to Elrohir commanded. "I'll deal with him later. I'm going to have a little fun with this one first." The words sunk in as a rough hand grabbed the front of Elrohir's tunic. He lashed out with his legs as the material was first cut then stripped away from his torso.

"Don't touch me!" the Peredhel shouted as he felt calloused hands roam over the skin of his torso; shivers of disgust swept down his spine and over his skin at the coarse touches. He twisted away from the hands, but was roughly pulled back into position. A sharp slap was dealt to his face as if in punishment; the rough abuse stung the delicate skin and turned it a dull red. Chapped lips descended upon Elrohir's neck, and coarse facial hair scraped against his pale skin. The hands never ceased their movement as they found their way down the elf's sides and to the waist of his leggings. Elrohir fought harder to get away, but his struggle only caused the man to act more roughly towards him.

He tried focusing on something, anything than what was happening to him. He could hear Rumil, shouting his name and desperately fighting against the men who were holding him. Elrohir tried concentrating on sounds outside of where they were being held as the man's lips descended onto his own, bruising them in their abuse. Alas, no sounds of comfort came from the outside night. In a desperate attempt to calm his rising terror, Elrohir's mind fled to moments with Orophin. But, the memories of the Galadhrim's gentle, soothing touch in comparison with the unseen man's rough use only drove him deeper into despair.

"No!!" Once again Elrohir felt the knife edge against his skin; this time, the blade lingered over his abdomen, just above the waistline of his leggings. He made another attempt to escape, but a pair of hands, belonging to another man Elrohir guessed, grabbed at the dark strands of his hair and forced him still. There was a quick swipe as his leggings were cut away; a thin line of blood had marred the twin's left thigh where the knife had cut a little too deeply. Elrohir swallowed hard, knowing what was coming next and dreading it.

"Don't! Elrohir!" Rumil shouted, his voice choking as he too registered what was about to happen. Elrohir squeezed his eyes shut behind the blindfold, praying silently to the Valar for help. He felt the hands skim across his torso again before moving lower. Just as the hands brushed across his thighs, forcing them apart, a loud banging was heard followed by shouts of surprise and anger. Then, chaos insured.

~~~~~~~~~~
Elladan was woefully unprepared for the sight that presented itself once Haldir had forced the door of the human refuge open. The twin gasps he heard on either side of him said without words that Haldir and Orophin were equally unprepared, but also extremely angry. There, before them, was a sight Elladan wished he had never seen, one he wanted to wipe from his memory if only he had the power. He would need Legolas' comforting words and caresses for many a night before the image would dim in his mind.

In the dark produced by the extinguishing of the candles were twelve forms. In one corner, four men struggled to hold down Rumil, who tried in vain efforts to move closer towards the center of the refuge. The brother of Haldir and Orophin was undamaged for the most part; a few still red bruises and disheveled hair indicated just how rough the men were in restraining him. Three other men stood in another corner, apparently observing what was going on in the center; they were also in charge of keeping watch out the windows, but had missed the approach of the elves.

The center of the room was the most horrifying sight to the elves. Elladan's double laid across a wooden table, his hands bound behind him and his eyes blindfolded. Elrohir's clothes had been cut from his body and discarded into a corner. One man held his shoulders firmly against the table; a second man had tangled his hands into the elf's dark hair, also holding Elrohir down. A third man was...Elladan didn't even want to think about what he was about to do. Just seeing the scene made his blood boil as he took a step closer, the silver blade of his sword flashing in the moonlight which streamed in through the windows. Elladan's gray eyes glowed an eerie pale color in the dim light.

"You are unworthy to be counted among the Secondborn of this land," he hissed, taking another menacing step forward. The men instantly backed away from the captured elves; they feared what they saw before them.

"I told you!" the smallest of the men shouted at his companions. There was great terror in his voice, as well as in his eyes as he stared wide-eyed at the elves. "I told you we shouldn't have taken them. We are doomed to die now!" His words brought more fear into the men. Two tried in desperation to flee through the door, but were stopped by the quick strokes of Orophin's sword. The Galadhrim was just as angry as Elladan, if not more so. It was his youngest brother and to-be-bonded lover that had been taken; none would make it past him alive if he could help it.

The fight began with the first stroke of Orophin's sword. Desperate to keep their lives, the remaining eight men grabbed whatever they could use as a weapon and flung themselves at the elves. Haldir made quick work of the three men who had laid hands on his brother as Elladan took care of a fourth and fifth. Seeing themselves woefully outnumbered, two of the remaining three men slipped past the elves and fled through the door. They didn't get far, however, when a volley of arrows shot them down; the men had been unaware of Legolas and his brothers guarding the door.

Seeing his comrades fall before him, the last man was growing ever more fearful of the elves, and desperate to get away. Grabbing the knife he had used earlier, he pulled Elrohir to his feet, brandishing the knife against the elf's neck. Elladan froze, as did Haldir upon the turn of events. Fear quaked within the man, but he held firm as he stared the elves down.

"Another step and I cut him a new smile," the man threatened in a menacing voice. Elladan flinched as the knife was pressed further against his brother's skin to prove the man's voice. A drop of crimson marred the blade edge as Elrohir let out a small, choked hiss.

"Let him go," Elladan demanded. "Your comrades are dead. You can't leave here alive."

"I will leave alive, or this one dies." The elder twin's gray eyes narrowed as he took a step forward. Growing more fearful from his life, the man attempted to carry out his threat as he pressed the knife further into Elrohir's neck. Elladan moved to stop the man; he froze when he saw the man's eyes roll back into his head. The knife dropped away harmlessly as the grip on Elrohir slackened, then fell away as the last man dropped dead. The hold on the elf released, the twin almost sank to his knees before another arm slipped about his waist. The touch was familiar, and the faint scent of sandalwood calmed him.

"Orophin," Elrohir whispered as a warm cloak was laid across his shoulders.

"Aye, ‘tis I, lirimaer," the Galadhrim replied, cutting away the bonds that imprisoned Elrohir's wrists before removing the blindfold. Gray eyes blinked a few times, clearing blurry vision before they focused on a kind face framed in silvery hair. A deep sigh of relief washed over Elrohir as he melted into Orophin's familiar and soothing embrace, feeling comforted now that he was safe.

"Diola lle, a'maelamin." Elrohir turned briefly to his brother; he gave Elladan a small smile to reassure his twin that he was all right. Elladan closed his eyes, drawing in his own sigh of relief. A pair of slender arms wrapped themselves about his waist, and he gladly sank back into Legolas' comforting embrace. The young prince kissed his lover's brow, hugging Elladan tightly against his own slender form.

"How did you find us?" Rumil asked quietly as Haldir helped him to his feet and freed his hands.

"We tracked you, gwanur-nîn," Haldir replied. "It took much of the night. But, at least we arrived in time."

"Aye, it was a good thing we got here when we did," Arondil replied, looking around the make-shift refuge as he ventured a step inside. "It is time we returned, I believe. I do not wish to stay in such a place any longer. I can only image how the two of you feel right now." His blue gaze fell sympathetically upon both Elrohir and Rumil. Celeron patted his brother's shoulder kindly, knowing what he was thinking and feeling the same.

"Let us go," Orophin said. Elrohir nodded, allowing himself to be steered from the place. He leaned against Orophin more for comfort that balance. The sun was just beginning to rise as the elves made their journey back towards Lothlorien. Their hearts were lightened in knowing they had retrieved their companions without any harm done.

Glancing back once, Elrohir hoped the refuge would never been used again for such a purpose as it had been utilized for that night. He turned away, sinking deeper into his lover's embrace. Sensing the twin's need for comfort, Orophin tightened his grip about Elrohir's waist, now and then whispering comforts into the twin's ear. They would be home soon; he hoped all would be well.

Translations:
Lirimaer-Lovely one
Diola lle, a'maelamin-Thank you, my beloved
Gwanur-nîn-My brother

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