Killing Beauty

Author's note: Your in put is very valuable to me and actually influences my writing, I was originally going to let Orophin have his wish, but I promise, you will not be disappointed with the ending. And I will say no more.
And unlike you know who...I love Haldir too much to put orc blade in his back.
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Haldir stood back and watched as the females hoavered over and worked on Elrohir. The old woman Belea knew what she was doing, and there were moments when Elrohir showed signs of awareness. Tarla held a basin of water for her, while Ashva waited for her turn at the injured prince. Behind him Orophin and Rumil watched in silence.

Seeing that they weren't needed, Orophin nudged Rumil with his elbow and nodded towards the door. Haldir glanced around as they moved towards it, but he said nothing. Passing out of the house, they decided to wander over to the tavern for an ale. They were almost there when Rumil noticed a pair of horsemen riding slowly into the small village. They were dressed in dark clothes on dark horses, and the hair on their heads was shaved off. Hard men with grim faces, they didn't notice the elves at first as they made thier way towards the same tavern.

"Not Rohhirim," Orophin whispered to his brother. Rumil nodded in agreement. "Still want that drink?"

"More than ever," Rumil answered and pulled hair over his ears in imitation of his brother.

The two men were at the bar ordering ale when the brothers entered and found a table. The weatherworn barmaid, a relative of the tavernkeeper, automatically arrived with two flagons of ale for them. Orophin paid her and then engaged his brother in a wuiet conversation about the weather. Rumil agreed that it was improving. The men stood at the bar and slowly drank their brew. Although they did not have their bows on them, they carried their quivers and the arrows within were long with black flights. Swords hung from their sides, and the spurs on their feet were large and sharp and chinked when they moved from foot to foot.

One of the men, a hard looking man with a full face under a week of black stubble, glanced around at them, his eyes registering recognition. Too late Orophin realized that he and Rumil were carrying their quiver and sword in the fashion of their kind. It had not occurred to him that it would betray them. The man turned back to the bar and said nothing. Orophin caught Rumil's eye and nodded at the weapons on his back. Rumil now also realized also that they were known.

The two men finished their ale, and what turned out to be an interesting encounter, walked past Orophin and Rumil, all the while watching them intently, as if waiting for them to strike. Then before leaving the tavern, the first man turned and faced them. He didn't quite smile, although the left side of his face twitched upwards. Not a word was spoken. Then he did something odd, he pretended to draw a bow on Rumil, laughed and followed his companion outside. Orophin and Rumil hurried to the door and watched the men ride down the street and around the last building.

"This is not good," Rumil opined softly. "We need to tell Haldir."

"Wait," Orophin said quickly and grabbed his brother's arm. "They may be watching to see if we do that." Waving his brother after him, he slipped down a narrow path between the tavern and another building and came out on a back street. The two men were reined by the building watching the street before them. "See?"

"Who are they?" Rumil asked suspiciously.

"My guess is they are looking for Elrohir," Orophin replied.

"Should we stop them?"

"Not without our bows," Orophin said and looked around. "I only hope no one comes looking for us." Perhaps it was voicing his fears that led to them being materialized, but the two men suddenly rode slowly forwards. Orophin and Rumil hurried back down the alley to watch them.

"It's Tarla," Rumil voiced anxiously. The two horsemen approached her slowly and deliberately and reined in front of her.

"Is there a healer abouts?" the first man asked politely.

"My grandmother is a healer. Have you need of her?"

"I might," the man replied. "Where is her house?" Tarla pointed behind her. Orophin and Rumil both groaned inwardly as the horsemen looked at the house, studied it a moment and rode towards it. They did not stop and get down but rode around the building noting that there was only one door and a small window. As the men passed by the door again, Haldir, bow in hand, stepped out and watched them ride slowly back down the street.

Although the horsemen knew where the healer's house, Rumil and Orophin did not approach it until they were certain the men were not coming back.

"What was that all about?" Haldir asked suspiciously as they joined him.

"Haldir, does the healer have the arrow that was taken from Elrohir?" Orophin asked quickly.

Belea found the arrow and handed it to Haldir.

"Black flights," Rumil said, "just like those men."

"They will come back with more men," Orophin concluded. "We must move him."

Haldir looked at Ashva who was sitting beside Elrohir with his hand between hers. She was trying to touch him, trying to find Elladan in his thoughts. She could feel the connection, but she couldn't break into it....she didn't know how.

"Can you wake him?" Haldir asked quickly. "Make him aware?"

Ashva did not know what she could do, but Elrohir was as a man asleep. Perhaps they could wake him by just shaking him. Wasn't that what one normally did? It was so stupid, but no one had tried that yet. Shaking his arm, she called his name.

Haldir watched in amazement as Elrohir responded slowly...very slowly to the simple shake of his arm. Ashva smiled and shrugged her shoulders. Not everything required magic potions and.......Haldir's frown indicated that he had figured that out too.

"Elrohir, wake up," he said and gently shook the elf. "Wake up."

Elrohir didn't want to wake up, he didn't want to let go of Elladan. "He needs me," Elrohir moaned and swung at the hands that tried to stir him.

"Where is Elladan?" Haldir asked quickly. "Where is he?"

"In darkness," Elrohir moaned.

"Who did this to you?" Haldir continued.

"Men...Gondor. We were....ambushed," Elrohir answered, talking to Haldir interfering with the link that kept his brother in this world. "Let me go!" he hissed.

"Elrohir, we must move you," Haldir said. "The ones who attacked you will return."

Elrohir suddenly sat up, his eyes wild with fear. "We were betrayed by an elf!" he gasped. "That's how they found us!" Staring at Haldir, panic in his eyes, he hissed, "He has Elladan!"

A quick glance at Ashva told Haldir that she was thinking the same thing; Kalan was up to no good. And with all the crap coming out of Gondor's capital, that was probably where he was.

"Haldir, aren't we going to move him?" Orophin asked anxiously.

Haldir studied Elrohir, glanced at the old woman and then back at Tarla who had returned to the house with a bucket of fresh water. "Is there a place where you can hide?" he asked her.

"We have a room down there," she answered and pointed to a rug on the floor, under which was a trap door and a small hidden room.

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Ashva laid on her belly on the roof of the healer's house beside Rumil, their bows at ready. Orophin was on the ground hiding behind one of the buildings, while Haldir squatted beside the old well, his eyes on the road the horsemen had ridden down. Ashva couldn't help but notice that he was facing west where a line of mountains rose in the far distance with the sun beginning its descent in the sky. This was the wrong time for her to be thinking of things than other what was coming, but she couldn't help but see him in her mind's eye as he welcomed the sun that morning. Darkness was coming, the night. What was he thinking? She would have given anything to be in his mind right now, to witness the concentration. She wanted to get down from the roof and sit by his side, but he had told her in no uncertain terms to stay there and protect the house. If by some chance fire was used, or if fire was threatened, they were to get down and stay together and make their way towards Orophin. They were in no way to get in his way.

He suddenly stood up and glanced back at them. They were coming. Rumil rose a little so he could ready his bow. It complained loudly as he drew the string back. His beautiful face was clear and cold, void of all emotion as he waited for his brother's instructions. Ashva waited. Although she had been lucky with the dragon, she knew better than to push her chances.

The horsemen rode up at a gallop but slowed to a walk as they entered the village. No one was out, and a couple of shutters were locked and barred. The ten men were not surprised by this. Elves were not stupid, but there was ten of them and only three of them that they were certain of. The leader of the group, a big man, shaved like his companions, slowly approached the healing house, until he saw Haldir waiting for them by the well. He was the picture of calm.

Grunting at his men to stay back, he eased his horse forward until he was looking down at the elf. "Who are you?" he asked harshly, his eyes detecting Rumil and Orophin with their bows pulled.

"I am Mugwort," Haldir responded and laid a hand over his heart. "And you?"

"Your ass," the man growled. This elf was too cocky for his liking. "Where's the dark haired one?"

"Not here," Haldir answered, noticing that the nine horsemen had also seen his brothers at ready.

"And I'm guessing you're here for the hospitality," the horseman grimaced. He put his hand on the pommel of his sword.

Haldir smiled. Before the man could act on his thoughts, Haldir grabbed him and yanked him out of the saddle and acted on his own thoughts. The man never saw the elven sword coming. As quickly Rumil and Orophin dropped two more. Short savage work. Within a few minutes nine bodies were on the ground. The tenth with an arrow in his leg...Ashva's one hit, galloped off at break neck speed.