Killing Beauty

Haldir and his brothers quickly removed the bodies to a ravine where they left them. He was going after the horseman, but he needed to put things in order first. "Orophin," he called to his brother, "if I am not back by noon tomorrow, take the others back to the wood and give Lord Celeborn one of the black arrows." Horrified by the command, Orophin started to protest. "Listen to me," Haldir stopped him, "I am counting on you to get them to safety. If I am not back it means I can not come back."

"You can not ask this of me." Orophin protested. "None of us would leave without knowing your whereabouts."

Haldir grabbed his brother by the back of head and pulled it towards him so that their foreheads touched and he could see clearly into his brother's eyes. "This time you must listen to me. I do not see any danger ahead, but I need to know you will listen to me. Promise it."

Orophin did not want to make such a promise; it went against everything inside of him. He loved his brother and would not return to the wood without him, but he could not keep gazing into his eyes, knowing he counted on him and say he would not promise. "All right," he finally broke, "I promise."

"I will be back," Haldir assured him with a smile. "But I need to know they will be safe. And Ashva knows how to tie one to a horse so he does not fall off in case Elrohir can not ride." He released Orophin and slung his bow across his back. "The man has an arrow in his leg and will not ride far. I am going on foot...quieter that way."

Orophin inclined his head and then said, "Brother."

"What?"

"I am sorry."

Haldir smiled. "I will be back," he promised and then slipped into the darkness.
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Following the trail in the dark was not difficult at all. The horses had torn up the wet sod with their hooves as they had galloped over it, and seeing no sign of a horse leaving off in a different direction, he kept to it. And he moved quickly knowing that the horse would cover many miles before the man stopped to see about his injury. But it was as he had expected, the man had pulled up and was in a sheltered grove where he was tending to his injury. Haldir couldn't supress his joy.

The man had pulled Ashva's arrow out of his leg and was panting hard in pain. He looked up in horror as Haldir appeared beside him, the cold smile on his lips just visible in the moonlit sky. "Does it hurt much?" Haldir asked curiously. "I'm sorry for that, she gets excited and her aim goes off."

"What do you want?" the man hissed in terror. Haldir had removed the bow from his back and crossed his ankles to sit beside him.

Laying the bow across his lap, Haldir replied, "Information."

"I don't know anything," the man grunted in terrible pain. Ashva's arrow had entered his knee from the outside and passed through it. Elves never poisoned or tainted their arrows, but they were quite efficent at tearing up sinew and bone.

"You know where you came from," Haldir replied patiently.

"Gondor," the man hissed.

Haldir already knew that. "But where in Gondor?" he asked.

"Minas Tirith," the man answered.

"Why would the steward of Gondor send you to Rohan, to that village?"

"He didn't," the man gasped. He was a proud, but the pain was sapping into his will and self control. "Can you help me?" he asked miserably.

"Were you one of the ones who attacked Lord Elrond's sons?" It was a cold question, one the rider understood. They had showed no compassion towards Elrohir, and now he was expecting compassion from Haldir.

"I was only obeying orders," the man gasped.

"Whose?"

"Danig's."

"Was that the man I killed?" Haldir asked dispassionately.

"Yes."

Haldir's one problem as he saw it was empathy, and as hard as he tried to harden himself against compassion, it was there. The man, although unworthy of it, had his pity. Reaching into the leather pouch that hung from his belt, he found a small bundle of herbs that he had tied together.

"Have you a water skin?" he asked.

"On the saddle," the man replied and laid his head back.

Laying his bow aside, he rose to his feet and fetched the skin off the saddle. Opening it, he dropped the small bundle into it. "It will take a few minutes to mix, but this should help," he said and handed the skin to the man. "Who in Minas Tirith sent you this way, and don't say Danig." He sat back down beside the miserable being.

The man gulped down a big mouthful of water and waited to see if indeed the elf were giving him relief or poison. The only elf he knew had a heart as black as a moonless night. And He feared that creature more than death.

"Who in Minas....."

"Lord Kalan," the man answered suddenly.

Haldir sat up straighter. A terrible cold fear settled in the pit of his stomach. "Does he have Elladan?"

"I don't know......"

"The other twin. Does he have the other twin?" Haldir repeated.

The herbs were beginning to work. "Yes," the man replied.

Haldir and the horse became aware of their presence about the same time. A pack of wargs had scented the man and were beginning to circle. Wargs were hard beasts to kill, although Haldir had killed a few in his time.

"This is just not your day," Haldir told the man and rose to leave.

The man reached out and grabbed Haldir's boot. He could hear the wargs chortling around them. "All I've got is a sword," he said.

The horse suddenly spooked and bolted off into the darkness. Haldir listened to know if the wargs moved after it or stayed where they smelled the blood. They stayed. And if he didn't slip away soon, it was possible a warg would find him a tempting treat. Haldir looked down at the man holding his foot. If he killed the man and put him out of his misery, he would not care if the warg made a meal out of him or not. On the other hand, Haldir was not a murderer. This was going to be a long night.

Wargs packs were usually led by sisters with the males being outsiders. Extremely vocal, the male wargs growled, hissed and chostled while the silent females crept up on their prey. Prey usually feld from the roaring males right into the maws of the deadly females. Haldir could see the large males standing aways back, their savage voices splitting the stillness of the night. And he reasoned if he could see the males in front of him, then the females were behind him. He glanced over his shoulder and saw the shadow of an animal slip stealthily closer. Without waiting for the attack, he set the arrow and fired. The warg bitch screamed and leaped up, almost throwing herself over backwards. A second one sprang forward..................................................................
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Orophin, Rumil and Ashva sat by the well all night and watched the trail that he had left on. At some point Ashva leaned against Rumil and felt his arm encircle her waist. They hated not knowing, of being afraid, of wanting to find him but being unable to. Orophin more than anything hated his promise. But he had given it and meant to honor it. At some point Ashva grabbed his hand and held it. When Tarla joined them, they could not say when, she sat on the ground beside Orophin and took his other hand in hers. She was kind, he thought.

They were still waiting when the sun broke over the horizon and turned the air gray. Ashva was holding tighter to Rumil, and they both reassured each other that he was all right, while their hearts told them otherwise.

Tarla left them after the sun was up high enough in the sky to see well. She promised to bring them back something to eat. Orophin wasn't hungry, but he insisted on Rumil and Ashva eating the offered bread and butter. And they didn't argue with him although they didn't have appetites either.

At some point in time Orophin dragged in a painful breath and looked up at the sky. "We've got to ready to go," he said, the words sticking in his throat.

"No!" Ashva protested. "No! We need to go find him."

Orophin felt as if his soul was being ripped a part. "He said if he wasn't back by noon...." the words trailed off. Rumil was giving him the most tragic look that he had ever seen. "We must take Elrohir back to Lady Galadriel, and we take one of the accursed arrows back to Lord Celeborn," he explained. "I gave my word."

"I didn't!" Ashva protested and jumped up. "I won't leave without him!" She was nearing complete panic, her eyes clouding up. She couldn't see, and she couldn't breathe. It was as if her heart was being cut out, cell by cell. Rumil stood and took her into his arms. "A little while longer," she pleaded.

Orophin knew what she was feeling, but he had given his word. "Stay with her," he told Rumil, "I'll go ready the horses." It was the longest, hardest chore in his life. When he had finished with the horses, he went to get Elrohir. The twin was well enough to ride, but he was still in that strange transe of his. Orophin told them they had to go, which awakened him, although it was clear he didn't want to break contact with his brother. Orophin would have given anything for such a link.

Rumil and Ashva were waiting by the horses. It was all he could do to keep her from riding off to look for Haldir, she was that distraught. He suspected that if they didn't keep an eye on her she would do just that. Orophin came out and helped Elrohir into the saddle of his horse. He would ride Haldir's.

Ashva started crying in ernest, soft and painful. She couldn't think about anything else. Rumil took the reins of her horse and led it, his own cheeks moist. Orophin steeled himself against the sorrow in his heart. He would keep his word even if it killed him. But as soon as he had his word honored, he would return.

Elrohir, his glazed eyes sweeping the horizon, softly asked, "Isn't that Haldir?"

Ashva looked up. "It's him!" she whispered and snatched her reins from Rumil. "It's him!" Kicking the gray in the side, she rode as quickly as she could towards his beloved shape. Right away she could see he was hurt, but he smiled and when she threw herself from the horse and into his arms, he held her and kissed away the fresh tears of relief that were now staining her cheeks. Her relief was almost as overwhelming as her grief had been disabling. She drew back and looked at his right arm and shoulder. "What did this?" she demanded, horrified at the many wounds that marred his skin.

"Warg," he answered as his brothers and Elrohir rode up. Rumil was leading a dark horse.

He dropped the reins of the animal, his own relief almost as great as Ashva's. "You had us worried," he said and embraced his brother. Haldir held Rumil and gazed up at Orophin who was smiling through his tears.

"You're hurt, brother," Orophin observed.

"The beast that did it is dead," Haldir mused as Ashva reclaimed her place against him. "Get mounted, we need to go," he gently told her and planted a soft kiss on her lips.

"Where are we going?" Rumil asked as Haldir mounted the dark horse.

"Minas Tirith," he said. "Elladan is there."
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Night camp was by a small restless stream that didn't seem to know which course it wanted to take as it washed away the sides of numerous little sand bars in its bed. Haldir didn't protest as Ashva fawned over him in an attempt to tend to the deep scratches the warg had given him when it had slapped him. He had already cleaned and salved it, but she was determined she was going to take care of them as well, so she did. Sitting on his tunic in front of Rumil's fire, Ashva's tender care more for her benefit than his, he smiled when he noticed her hands were trembling.

"Why are you shaking?" he asked softly.

"I thought I had lost you," she confessed, fresh tears springing into her eyes. Rebandaging his shoulder, she sniffed and said, "There."

Although it hurt quite a bit, he raised his arm and pretended it meant nothing to him. "See, all better." Then just to let her know he was truely all right, he said, "You have cried so much your nose is red."

"Is it?" she asked anxiously and covered it with her hand.

Orophin and Rumil returned to the camp with a very large bird between them. "Supper," Orophin said.

"And we scouted around a while," Rumil added. "No wargs, or men, or orcs, or trolls."

"Still we need to keep watch," Haldir said. "We'll split it between us three."

"What about me?" Ashva asked quickly. "I can stand watch." She wiped her eyes. "Even with a red nose."

"You can have first watch then," Orophin said. "Rumil can take it next, then me then Haldir."

"Then, while you prepare the bird," Haldir mused, "I am going to wash. I've been smelling of warg spittle all day and it is starting to get rank."

"Was that you?" Rumil teased. "I thought perhaps one had fallen in love with you and was loath to let you get away."

Haldir smirked at his brother as he got up. Ashva, who WAS loath to let him get away, followed him back along the stream bed. Haldir couldn't help but notice that she was fully armed. "Expecting an attack?" he asked curiously.

"You never know what might show up," she said, her heart still so tender that all she had to do was think about losing him and the tears appeared. " I can not imagine..." she almost said and stopped.

"You can not imagine what?" he asked as they stopped by a small pool that looked at least deep enough to sit in.

She did not want to finish her statement. "It looks pleasant," she said and laid her weapons on the sandy bank. She actually felt rather foolish for bringing them. It had just been an automatic response.

"Are you getting in with me?" he asked, a hint of tease in his voice.

"It was my intention to make love to you," she replied softly, her heart devouring his beloved form as he untied his leggings.

The water was cool but the day had been warm so it was most pleasant. He sat on the sandy bottom, his legs crossed, while she wrapped her legs around him and sat in his lap. There was nothing passionate about the contact, indeed he seemed more interested in watching her face while she fretted over his shoulder. Finally he asked, "What can you not imagine?" She did not want to give voice to her thought and pretended not hear him. Taking her chin gently but firmly in his hand, he turned her face to his and repeated the question.

"I can not believe you would have grieved so much for me," she answered and lowered her eyes.

He said nothing at first. Then with great emotion in his voice, he asked, "You think I did not grieve for you?"

"I do not want to talk about this," she protested. "It was a stray thought that had no place in my mind." She slipped her arms around his neck and sought his mouth, but he turned his face and eased her away from him.

"You want to know if I grieved for you?" he repeated.

"It doesn't matter," she replied anxiously. "That is over."

His face softened. He knew her fear, he had felt it himself. And he had grieved for her. Easing her back to him, he kissed her, gently at first, and then stronger as the passion's spark ignited. She clung to his neck and moaned when he sucked her lip into his mouth and caressed it with his tongue. He kissed her ear and used his wicked tongue and warm breath to send the hot blood coarsing through her veins. He pulled on the lobe with his teeth while his hands found more interesting parts of her body to torture. Just the lightest touch had her nipples as hard as pebbles. Her emotions were close to the surface, and he could easily feel the heat of her body against his growing erection. With just the slightest thrust, he was inside of her. She wanted to fuck, but he stopped her.

"No hurry," he whispered richly and kissed her shoulder. "Don't move." It was exquisite torture. He was deep inside of her, and she wanted to move, but he wouldn't let her. He continued to tease her breasts, but made no movement himself. She pinched his nipples, but he kept as still as his ragged breathing would let him. It was the most extreme self control she had ever witnessed. And all it did was make her ache grow stronger. She bit at his ear lobe, but except for turning his head, he remained still.

Then everything seemed to come undone. The deep hurting ache fanned upwards until she thought she would pass out. She came hard, harder than she could remember, and then she felt him surrender to the need. He clutched her to him and laid his head against her breast. She could feel him throbbing inside of her and his ragged breath on her skin.

When he finally raised his head, his eyes glazed from the power of his own orgasm, he confessed, "I didn't want to have sex for a year after you left me."