Nearer to the Stars

Part I - The Struggle Without

Amon Lanc, 86 Fourth Age

"You always sit here looking west at sunset." Elrohir remarked as he dropped himself by Orophin's side with a heavy thump. The breaking of the silence had sounded harsh, bordering on crude, but it was not entirely inappropriate for their somber setting. The unhallowed ruins of Dol Guldur still begged for awareness, regardless of what power Galadriel might have imprinted on them. Elrohir took pleasure in settling as noisily as possible, perhaps defying the darkness that still lingered in the crannies and corners of the fallen stones, but more probably to annoy his companion. Orophin did not make an effort to reply, not even with a simple shrug.

"I'm tired of East Lórien," Elrohir proceeded, ignoring that he was not been acknowledged and welcomed. In the distance, the golden woods of Lórien shone, but he had seen them painted with brighter shades of gold, reminding him of the sad state of abandon currently reigning in Imladris.

This time Orophin shrugged, the tiniest movement, more as an indication of utter indifference for Elrohir's feelings than of the nature of his own.

"Now this is where you should make some comment on our mutual disgust for this Eru forsaken land," Elrohir chided, amused.

"Why should I do that?" Orophin did not bother to look at his companion. He sounded bored, not curious. Boredom was a small deterrent for Elrohir.

"I see you staring into the west every day at the same hour. The best hour to see the gold of Lórien come alive."

"Maybe I'm trying to see further."

"Come on. Admit it."

"Admit what?" Orophin's question sounded devoid of curiosity.

"That you are as miserable here as anyone else."

"Your grandfather does not appear to be miserable, quite the contrary, despite that his spouse abandoned him." Bold words delivered with a careful tone... Elrohir wondered if he was finally breaching Orophin's reserve.

"Fool yourself if you'd like," he quipped, trying to ignore the gibe at his grandmother's behaviour and his sudden willingness to show Orophin better.

"Likewise," came the swift answer, not so indifferent now, but rather aggressive.

"You are insolent, you know that?"

"Why, thank you, my prince. Only that you are not a prince and certainly not mine. I owe you no special deference."

"Feisty!"

"So they say. You can quit your flirting attempts – your style does not seduce me."

Orophin rose and left his watching point without another word to Elrohir. Torn between his reluctance for remaining any longer in a place he loathed and his bruised pride, Elrohir chose to wait a few more minutes before following Orophin. Later, as he stumbled through the fallen rocks in the dusk, he cursed his pride and vowed to quit his attempts to befriend Orophin. This effort had certainly not been the first, but it had been the clumsiest to the date. His amusement at Orophin's aloofness was starting to wear off. Yes, he would let the little twit remain alone and friendless if that was his heart's desire. He certainly deserved it.

~~~~~~

Orophin had thought that his last display of utter rudeness had finally warned Elrohir off. At least it had worked like a charm in the previous weeks. But once again Elrohir was back. For the last hour Orophin had stoically ignored remarks on his aim, his stride, his flexibility... His practice for the day was completely ruined. He valued the peculiar silence of the training grounds: there was clashing, swooshing, brawling, huffing, but no needless words and that was the best kind of silence Orophin knew.

Finally, when Elrohir had the nerve to offer to teach him a few sparring tricks, he exploded.

"You see, you have the wrong elf. I'm neither young nor impressionable," he said, hoping to sound cold enough to push the meddlesome half-elf away.

Elrohir grinned. "Maybe you got me wrong."

"Hardly," Orophin puffed. "Everyone knows who you are and what you are up to. Choose another prize – I am not interested."

"You presume a bit too much. Has it crossed your mind that perhaps I might not find you attractive enough to seduce?"

"You're bored, you said so yourself. And you have a reputation for not caring too much about the look of your lovers. They even say you have bedded men," Orophin added with a vicious smirk.

"Aye," Elrohir grinned back. "Most satisfyingly so. But that's hardly your business."

"I'm quite selective and you are definitely lacking for my tastes. I am not interested. Period." Orophin turned his back but Elrohir refused to admit defeat.

"Oh, yes, I have heard about your selectiveness," he added with a low sneer in his voice.

Orophin was still cleaning and packing his weapons, cursing Elrohir for forcing his company. He prepared for the worst, but Elrohir surprised him.

"Let us not talk of things past, you and I. I don't really know you and neither do you know me. Let's not assume or judge. How about it?"

"Truce, eh?" Orophin was not impressed, but he turned to face Elrohir. "Fine. But pray do tell me why you should have this unseemly interest in a humble marchwarden, then? Surely it's not my brilliant intellect, my kind heart and perhaps not even my dazzling looks." Orophin crossed his arms and waited for an answer, defiant.

"You are hard. All right, I admit that I wanted to bed you at first. But-"

"Ah, but now it's true love. Give it a rest, I've heard that before."

"That was not what I was going to say."

"Then what was it?"

Elrohir frowned and averted his eyes. "I doubt you'd believe me."

"You're right, but do try."

"I may eventually, but right now you are too hostile. I'll just tell you why I came down here today."

"So there was a motive not related to my buttocks?" Orophin pushed.

Elrohir sighed. "Yes, as much as I love taunting you, there is, and I wanted you to hear it from me."

"You sound serious."

"We have news of Orc movements north, near Rhosgobel. I am to travel there with a small party and investigate. We may need to attack and clean the area. You were selected by my grandfather to be in that party."

"You manipulated this."

"No. Trust me, I am not that crass nor desperate. Frankly, I prefer to travel and battle with those who trust me, but my grandfather is convinced that you are good enough to go."

Elrohir turned and left Orophin to his thoughts. While he was certainly honoured that Celeborn would think of him, he was not entirely convinced that Elrohir had not manipulated the choice in the least. In any case, he missed fighting. He had acquired a taste for blood during the War of the Ring, when the borders of Lórien had come under heavy attack and later when they had cleared Dor Guldur. He had discovered a rage inside that burned bright when he unleashed it, cleaning the world from foul beasts and cleansing him of dark thoughts. In the battlefield he was perfect and whole. Yes, he would enjoy his little trip. Elrohir and his intentions would be nothing but a distraction he could avoid.

~~~~~~

They had been riding North for a fortnight, keeping Mirkwood's dark tangle to their right, the Anduin to their left and the Valacirca ahead. They had travelled mostly by night until they had reached the Great East Road. After that, they travelled by day, perhaps diminishing their chances of sighting Orcs, but making sure that they would not inadvertently run into Beorn.

Despite Elrohir's obviously inferior sight, he managed well enough, earning him an unsuspected measure of approval from Orophin. After they had crossed the Great East Road, they counted solely on his knowledge of the area to find Rhosgobel where Radagast awaited them with more detailed information.

Orophin had watched with a mix of admiration and growing respect how Elrohir commanded the company. Irritating and fickle as Elrohir might be, he was an excellent leader and an experienced warrior, not the reckless buffoon with more luck than sense he was reputed to be. He and Elladan had become legends of sorts among the warriors of Lórien, but Elladan was thought to be the owner of the only thinking mind of the pair. Not many of the warriors in their company had battle experience. The twins' renowned preference for the Dunedain earned them equal parts of contempt and curiosity. Most of the legends and stories surrounding the brothers were based on hearsay. Now, Orophin and his companions saw an experienced, careful warrior who was perfectly capable of leading an expedition ten times their party's size. He was eager to see Elrohir in battle – that would be the final test of his rash reputation.

Before that would happen, they reached Rhosgobel, or the cinders of what had been once there. A small hut and a few barns and shacks, Orophin presumed by the size of the burned patches. A sense of restlessness overtook the company, as they looked around and found no remains, only the stench of burnt Orc carcasses in the air and nearly unrecognizable forms on the ground. The wizard was no where to be seen, but slowly, as Elrohir explored the ruins, animals came from the trees, peeking carefully at the strangers.

"Sador!" Elrohir called.

A grey dove came from the trees, circling his head before she landed on his fingers. She cooed gently before taking flight again, circling Elrohir and then flying northwest. Elrohir nodded pensively in mute thanks to the animal.

"I believe that no one was hurt here, but these. Radagast probably fled to Beorn's where he will be safe. We should meet him there, and leave here quickly. These Orcs grow bold and we know nothing about them."

"But Beorn..." one of the warriors started.

"We can reach him before sundown," Elrohir cut, "and he is united with us in this purpose of cleansing Arda. He will welcome us."

A murmur passed through the company, but they mounted their horses and prepared to leave before other Orcs appeared. Just as they rode out, something running out of the woods caught Orophin's eye. His deepest instincts took over and before he could fully access the target, his arrow flew. A loud whine followed by soft whimpers cut through the air as the company turned in one well-tuned defensive movement. A strange animal lay on the forest floor, Orophin's arrow deeply lodged in its thigh.

"Nicely done, Orophin." Elrohir muttered, as he dismounted and ran to the animal. Orophin followed him, feeling embarrassed and staring as Elrohir cooed softly and tried to approach the animal.

"What animal is this?" he asked from behind, eyeing the creature that looked too lean and tall to be a sheep, too stocky to be a goat and too strange to be anything he knew.

"Meet Radagast's best friend, Celeg," Elrohir replied dryly, as he examined the wound. "It is called an alpaca. Radagast brought a few from Aman, from Yanannah's herds, but he keeps them as pets."

He picked the animal up and carried it to his horse, but as he passed by Orophin, Celeg spat a foul-smelling green paste, hitting Orophin square in the face.

He heard Elrohir laughing and the rest of the company stepping away from him.

"At least he's a better shot than you," one of them quipped.

"Here," another tossed him a water bag, "wash off before you alert everything of our presence."

They laughed and climbed back to their horses. Orophin followed them as they rode to Beorn's, imagining what he would say to the famed wizard about this unfortunate event if they indeed met. He could see Elrohir holding Celeg close and occasionally talking softly to the beast. Eventually he rode closer to them.

"Is it safe?"

Elrohir snorted. "I suppose. I doubt he will ever like you very much, but I think he understands you didn't mean it."

"It's the second time you've acted as if you could talk to animals..."

"Is that so strange? You Silvan elves brag about talking to trees."

"True, we do."

After a few minutes of silence Orophin tried again, "Do you think Radagast will be very angry? At me, I mean?"

Elrohir sighed. "I think he has more pressing matters on his mind than an elf with bad aim."

A surge of fury coursed through Orophin. "You know perfectly well that I shoot much better than that, and-"

"I know, Orophin," Elrohir cut with annoyance. "Don't you ever laugh at yourself as others do? You should try it sometime, it's very healthy."

"I don't need advice from you." Orophin pulled the reins, letting Elrohir move ahead. He should have known that any attempt at civility from his part would fail against Elrohir's galling nature. But for a few moment, he had thought they were having a civilized conversation, and that glimpse of normality bothered for the remainder of the way.

Soon after, the prairie gave way to ordered fields of flowers.

"We are now in Beorn's country," Elrohir announced. The sun was still high in the sky, and they relaxed, their trust in Elrohir's judgement enhanced, as Beorn himself came out to greet them.

"Radagast told me to expect you," he told Elrohir.

"So he is alive? And well, I hope?"

"Aye, he is in the house. I see that you carry Celeb, but he is hurt. Radagast has been worried sick over him. He could only bring a few of his friends, as you might imagine."

Elrohir nodded and the followed Beorn, leading their horses by hand. They passed by wondrous horses and formidable cows grazing serenely until they reached an oak copse and then a high thorn hedge. Beorn guided them to an opening leading to his oak wood home.

Radagast greeted them briefly, more concerned in taking Celeg from Elrohir's arms than in being civil. He carried the young alpaca to the fireplace and busied himself with cleaning the wound and talking with the pet. After some time, he looked back with a serious expression on his face.

"You should save your arrows for the enemy," he said sternly. Beorn looked up with a shocked expression.

Orophin, who had stayed behind the group, slumped his shoulders. The moment for truth had come, but before he stepped forward to take the blame, Elrohir cut in.

"You are right of course, but you know as well as I do that it was an accident. Celeg has forgiven, hasn't he? We should do the same."

"Perhaps you are right... I should follow my own advice and focus on the enemy." Radagast visibly relaxed. A sigh of relief almost escaped Orophin's lips.

Beorn motioned them to sit around the table. Once everyone was settled, Radagast spoke.

"I cannot tell you much about this particular group except that I think they were somewhere between fifty to sixty. Similar groups have been descending from the mountains on a regular basis and that is why I sent word to Celeborn. They are hungry and desperate and despite no longer having a commanding hand, they are still dangerous. Thranduil keeps them out of Mirkwood with some effort. Beorn has also had problems with them, and each sighting has been further south. We think that they have come from dens spread throughout the Misty Mountains and are gathering somewhere north of the Carrock. Gwaihir confirms our impressions. We have also seen wolves of late."

The elves glanced at each other. This was much larger than their small group could handle. It was well documented that a well-trained elven company could successfully face as many as three times their numbers in Orcs, but trusting Radagast's information they would need a small army. Their party of thirty only seemed large in Beorn's home, not on the battlefield, and they were not all battle-trained.

Elrohir cleared his throat. "I wish we had known this before we came. There is not much we can do as it is." The other elves nodded. "Even if we had known in advance, I'm not sure we could have done much more. My brother took most of the garrison of Imladris with to Aman and my grandfather also has few hands to spare."

"You can count on me and Gwaihir," Beorn said.

"And although my power is waning now that I've refused my summons West, I can still do a few things," Radagast added. "They only caught me by surprise, back in Rhosgobel. I grew too confident in my fame as a terrible wizard, but a famished Orc will dare much."

"Do you think Thranduil will come forth?" Elrohir asked.

"Maybe... but they still have problems of their own in the East." Radagast pondered. "I think we'd best think of something for ourselves."

Elrohir slowly shook his head. "This is madness. I have a responsibility to this party and to attack the Orcs in their main den without knowing their real numbers is suicide."

Radagast nodded. "We realized all of what you say, and that was the reason why I gave so few details in my message to Celeborn. I am not a warrior, but I can understand that there are limits to what can be done. On the other hand I don't think we should allow these... murderers loose on Arda." Beorn harrumphed in agreement.

"So what do you suppose we should do?" asked Elrohir.

"We, that is Beorn and I, thought of creating a series of traps to lure the Orcs in small bands."

"Orcs are sneakier than you think," Elrohir cut in. "My brother and I used that strategy often but it would only work twice – by the third time they would learn and either we had enough company on our side, or we left them for another time. I highly doubt that we can deal with hundreds of Orcs in that fashion."

Beorn nodded. "I see your point. I have long faced them in the same way here east of the mountains, with similar results. I have a radically different suggestion: I say we find the main den with Gwaihir's aid, conduct a stealth visit and burn them all to Mandos."

Elrohir bit his lip, pondering. "That would also be a suicide mission. I highly doubt we could escape unnoticed by a large band of burnt, angry Orcs. If only we had a larger group awaiting those fleeing... as it is... I am not convinced."

"So what do you propose?" Beorn raised his voice. "That we let them roam free until they are at Amon Lanc's doors? I suppose that you will care then, being your home and all. Beware, it might be too late. You will be facing well-fed, confident beasts, not these scrawny things that are spreading havoc here."

"I know, I know," Elrohir tried to appease. "I don't propose that we stay put or go back home. I'm just saying that I need some time to think this over. I need to talk with my company. We haven't heard them yet. And we need more information. This is too little to move on."

The elves murmured their approval of his words and silence fell on the table. Beorn and Radagast looked grimly around, but the elves lowered their eyes, except for Elrohir. Once again, Orophin found himself admiring his composure.

"Fine," Beorn finally said. "We will dine and you will have the night to think about your choices."

~~~~~~

Night had fallen and both Beorn and Radagast had left the house, Beorn to protect his animals from nocturnal raids, Radagast for an unknown purpose.

The company gathered around the fireplace, finally free to talk. Elrohir help Celeg in his arms, petting it softly. "So?" he asked looking around.

"It's madness," Deluhathol said. "Either plan." Several voices rose in agreement with their most senior officer.

"Should we just head back home?" Elrohir asked. There was no defiance or reproach in his voice.

"Lord Celeborn will surely send some more-"

"And leave our borders open?" Elrohir cut. "I don't think so – you know how few we are. Taking as many as a company equal in number to this one is enough to cause grave breaches in security. If we go back home it is only to wait that they come our way."

"Then that's what we have to do," Deluhathol replied. "You yourself said either approach was tantamount to suicide."

A heavy silence fell over the group. No one really wanted to quit without a fight, but the options were equally dire.

"What if we were to combine strategies," Orophin proposed at last. He spoke despite his fear of scorn, and an immediate blush coloured his cheeks as Deluhathol promptly replied.

"We are not enough to try either one and you want us to try both?"

A few huffed laughs sounded, but Elrohir raised his head from Celeg, and stared pensively at the fire.

"I think he might have a point," he said after a few minutes. "This might be done... but it needs a little thinking. I wish Legolas hadn't sailed – he would be the perfect companion for this venture."

Orophin smiled quietly to himself. For the second time that day Elrohir had, for no particular reason, been a friend. Maybe he had judged the peredhel too fast.

~~~~~~

They slept restlessly. At some point during the night, Orophin heard Elrohir tending to Celeg. Near dawn Radagast returned; from his cot, Orophin could hear them speaking in hushed tones. When Radagast left, he rose, wrapped himself in his blanket, and sat by Elrohir's side.

"Good morning."

"Good morning," Elrohir replied. "Sleep well?"

"Not really."

"There's cream and honey on the table."

"I know." Orophin remained by Elrohir's side. "Thank you. For standing up for me yesterday, that is."

"Radagast knows. Don't let his haggard appearance fool you."

Orophin lowered his head. "Thanks anyway."

"I liked your idea from yesterday. I just don't know if we can do it. We need more information."

Orophin nodded. "How are we going to get it?"

"Scouting... Radagast somehow convinced Gwaihir to help with surveillance."

"What do you mean? Is it true that the eagles talk?"

"These do. But my plan is different...their drawing skills leave much to be desired, so you can't expect cartography from them. Then, these eagles, noble and blessed by Manwë himself, cannot count."

"So what do you plan to do?" Orophin rubbed his eyes, trying to dispel the slumber and clear his mind.

"To ask them carry a few of us so that we can gather the information ourselves."

Orophin laughed louder than he intended. "You are jesting, surely."

"Any legend you might have heard from these Eagles is probably true. They are larger than you can imagine and certainly able to carry an elf. It wouldn't be the first time, either, but they are proud and this is not something to ask lightly from them."

"So who is going? You said only a few of us..."

"I need those with more experience in cartography."

"I used to help my brother Haldir when he was first assigned to delimit the eastern borders, and I also have contributed to the mapping of Amon Lanc."

Elrohir raised an eyebrow. "Aren't you full of hidden talents?" he remarked without irony. "Won't you be afraid to fly? I suspect it is not quite the same as hopping from tree to tree as you Silvan so expertly do."

Orophin smiled crookedly. "I'll probably embarrass myself, but I wouldn't miss it for the world."

"All right. Then we only need to pick a third. They are starting to wake. I'll speak to them after breakfast."

Orophin nodded and left to wash and prepare for the day outside where Beorn had told them to meet the previous night. A smile lit his face and a feeling of purpose carried his heart. As he washed, his conversation with Elrohir replayed in his mind. There had been no insinuations, no flirting, and Orophin had liked it. He thought that he could grow to like the elf who hid behind the obnoxious front Elrohir so enjoyed parading.

~~~~~~

Flying was nothing like Orophin had imagined. He felt as safe on the back of the eagle as in his talan. So large was the animal that he could sit comfortably on its shoulders and even, he suspected, carry a second elf. But size was nothing, compared to their ability to speak. He had thought that 'speak' was a euphemism for the simpler and more fluid language of nature, that of the trees and simpler creatures that all Silvan knew. But no, they spoke in northern Sindarin with odd metallic voices. And they were tireless. They had only one chart so Orophin had to trust his memory. He found that he grew tired long before the majestic bird, but he kept his concentration as well as he could.

They gathered at sundown at the cliffs of Gwaihir's court, exchanged information about the signs of Orcs they had seen and marked them on the map. Then they rested, preparing for the second round of flight, this time by night, when the Orcs would be out of their lairs.

Orophin, Elrohir and Berenind lay down for a nap, all bundled on the small ledge where they had been placed by the eagles. With altitude came a cold updraft that chilled them even more than from the flight, but they could not light a fire so they settled for body warmth. Lying in that state of half-awareness that precedes sleep, Orophin watched Elrohir closely. He was indeed beautiful, one of the handsomest elves he knew. Orophin again wondered about his true colours, finding himself hoping that Elrohir's reputation for being a fickle lover was as unjustified as his reputation for being a reckless warrior. He winced the thought away and tried to concentrate on falling asleep.

~~~~~~

The company from Amon Lanc, Radagast, Beorn, Celeg, and a dozen of Mirkwood elves King Thranduil had sent at Radagast's request gathered around Beorn's table. Elrohir summarized what they had found in his inventory made from the air. Much to everyone's disappointment there were still plenty of active Orc dens spread out through the mountains. After the War of the Ring it had been expected that the disappearance of the evil power that sustained and commanded the Orcs would cause them to fade, but that had not come to pass. Orcs still bred and hunted and lived well enough for their kind.

Elrohir showed his map with estimates that everyone knew had limited accuracy, discussed accessibility, odds, and armament. Then he proposed a strategy composed of quick attacks to the smaller dens by the two groups, giving the Orcs reason to believe that they were a larger party than in reality, and simultaneously allowing them to better assess the enemy. After three to four days of this strategy Elrohir proposed that they went forward and attacked the main den, where they had noticed clear signs of an Orc army gathering. Their survey indicated them that they could be outnumbered from seven to ten, and by then the element of surprise would be gone.

He held his speech, awaiting for the others to voice their opinions and questions before he proceeded. The elves glanced at each other and to Elrohir's map and some started murmuring to their neighbours on the table.

Deluhathol was the first to speak "Not only the element of surprise will be gone, but we'll be tired and they fresh. You know that we can make pretty good damage with those odds, but there is no way that we can leave alive. Any of us."

A murmur of assent was heard.

Radagast slowly rose from his seat and waited for silence to fall. "You are not counting on one thing." He rose with his staff and held out his palm as he closed his eyes and murmured words of power. A tiny ball of fire formed out of the thin air above his palm, twirling with life of its own. Radagast's next words made it swell, and when it was no bigger than a head, it blasted in a small explosion that was enough to throw those closer off their chairs.

As they collected themselves, Radagast showed them his hand. A ring with a ruby shone on his finger. "This is Narya, left to me by my old friend Gandalf, who you know as Mithrandir. My magic is not of this kind, and this ring has lost a great deal of its power but it is still enough to create a much greater explosion if needed. I just need to be in the right place. I can't do many big ones in a row, though."

Deluhathol lifted an eyebrow. "Very impressive," he said in a voice that belied his words.

Beorn grumbled, displeased with Deluhathol's tone. "I have a few friends... we will make sure that your retreat is always covered and that no Orc escapes the first raids. We will work as hard as we can, for they are old foes of ours who have stolen our homes."

"That is not all..." Elrohir added, also ignoring Deluhathol's remark. "We have plenty of Miruvor of Radagast's special making. It will strengthen us and keep us fresh during the campaign. It has properties that hasten healing too. Also, as I've shown, the Orcs have cunningly chosen a retreat that is protected by a canyon. I say that we turn this into a disadvantage. Let's cut their exit here," he pointed at the scheme he had drawn. "Radagast can cause a landslide as we put down the sentinels in the higher spots. Gwaihir said they would help at that."

"If we cut the only exit, we cut our only entry, and our own exit... how do you propose that we manage this?" a Mirkwood elf asked.

Elrohir smirked. "Of all the people here, Radagast and I will be the ones with the greater disadvantage in this matter. We use your excellent Silvan skills to climb down in stealth. After the battle, assuming that we were victorious, we have all the time in the world to climb out of that hole."

"I don't know..." Deluhathol said, scratching his chin. Orophin could see that some of the older warriors were not fully won but he had faith in Elrohir's plan and he was not alone in that.

A younger Mirkwood warrior spoke. "Shall we vote?" he proposed timidly.

Deluhathol opened his mouth to protest on this way of deciding, but before he could make his protest heard, Orophin cut him off.

"I vote we do this as Elrohir proposed." Most of the younger warriors at the table raised their hands, as well as Radagast, Beorn and Elrohir. Slowly, Berenind, the leader of the Mirkwood party also raised his hand. Only Deluhathol remained unconvinced, but he shrugged and nodded his assent with a resigned grimace. "Someone has to go and make sure you stay out of trouble."

~~~~~~

The next few days were passed in preparation. On the third day they divided into three groups, four if Beorn's friends were to be counted, and headed out. They fanned out to the north and south in search of their targets. They would start from the fringes and work their way in, and would only meet the third day for the final attack, when Radagast would join them.

Every elf knew the risks but they also knew that much depended on them. They had decided to rid Middle-earth of its last great shadow and evil. A prayer to the powers of the West and the Almighty Ilúvatar and they departed.

The Mirkwood elves kept their group, but Amon Lanc warriors divided in two groups through a random sorting. Orophin was sorted to the group led by Deluhathol, and found himself regretful. He would have enjoyed seeing Elrohir finally drawing his sword.

They reached the first den by sundown after walking for half a day. The Orcs were still inside the cave but signs of movement could be seen, as well as the noises of a camp coming to life. As darkness fell, the first Orcs emerged. The elven party slew them mercilessly. The others, alerted by the noise came running, some to fight and some to flee. Orophin let the frenzy of battle take him. He could sense his fellow warriors around him, dealing blows. The hiss of arrows followed by thumps told him that the runaways were being stopped dead in their tracks, but he didn't look. All his energies were concentrated in a deadly dance. As the battle died, Deluhathol called them to the cave. There only a few Orcs remained, and despite their feeble pleas for mercy, they were readily decapitated – the victors could not afford to take prisoners. The company shouted in glee of an easy victory, congratulating themselves with back-patting and the usual merry remarks. They quickly surveyed the Orc camp, dealing blows of mercy when needed. Like any warrior, Orophin had always disliked this part of battle, but it was necessary and in a way it was charitable. In short time they were ready to advance to the second den, further West.

The long walk broke the effervescence of battle; when they arrived, they were more methodical, but the Orcs were fiercer. Dawn announced itself in the sky and they were desperate. The battle was successful, but this time some Elven warriors caught a few scratches and bruises. They found a spot to rest for some hours before they proceeded to the next den. The group started to feel weary. Orophin could only imagine how they would fight the final battle after three days of this.

To his surprise, he didn't feel particularly tired when by the third day they met the other two parties. Between them all they had eleven warriors with minor wounds, two with deep gashes and one with a broken arm. As they realized they were all alive and mostly, moral lifted. The few scouts sent ahead returned with their news: apparently orcs understood that something wrong was taking place. They were heavily guarded, but in the places where they were expected. No strange activity took place. Another scout returned with Radagast, whom he had found on the way. They reviewed the attack plan, adapting it to consider the wounded and the increased vigilance, and then they waited for nightfall in fidgety silence.

~~~~~~

The attack started at sundown. The archers took down the orc scouts, then the first Orcs to leave the cave as a small group escorted Radagast to the mouth of the canyon.As the Orcs left the cave, Radagast moved to the mouth of the canyon. By the time the loud blast echoed through the mountains, half the Elven party was already descending the cliffs with rope, while the archers covered them from the frantic Orcs. Eagles, despite their dislike for nocturnal fighting, circled the canyon, waiting for their turn. The Elven party created a front that faced the horde of Orcs pouring from the mouth of the cave. They fought fiercely, holding their ground but the hearts of many fell as more and more Orcs came in a dark swarm. The archers helped as they could but they could not shoot too close to the battle line, and their arrows seemed too few against the remaining of the Orcs. Shouts of joy rang in the air, when for the first time an eagle carrying Radagast swooped down on the battle. The wizard bellowed words of power, blasting fire and the Orcs began running in terror. Other eagles dove down into the canyon, always keeping the Orcs from regrouping. The Elven party continued fighting with renewed strength, forgetting about the terrible odds.

Black forms started moving on the rim of the canyon. Orophin raised his eyes from the fight for a second, catching the movement, but he quickly realized they were black bears. He and others joyfully shouted, "Beorn!" as the bears chose their path through the rocks and came down to join forces with them.

Finally, just before dawn tinged the skies with its pale colours, canyon was cleared. Orc corpses lay everywhere. Some Elves sat on the ground, holding their wounds, too tired to tend to themselves, while others walked around checking the fallen bodies for their own. The archers left their stations and joined their companions. The bears growled and left the canyon from where they had come, and the eagles flew away after leaving Radagast on the ground.

No warrior had been left unscathed but miraculously only one lay lifeless on the ground. Two others were deeply cut and had bled much. Radagast and Elrohir worked on them, but their faces showed little hope.

They gathered in a short prayer for the dead, then quenched their thirst and ate their share of dried meat and fruits in silence. All knew there was still one last task to fulfill and that many dangers might still await them. They had to clean the cave.

After a brief rest, they carefully advanced through the corpses. Radagast led the way, holding the fire in his hand. As they neared the mouth of the cave they grew silent. The darkness seemed to stretch out, menacingly, fighting the first light. Radagast spoke and the fire grew larger and brighter. A few elves lit improvised torches in this fire and stayed by Radagast's side, leading the party into the cave. A short tunnel led them into a wide common room. The stench inside was even worse than amidst the corpses outside. Some fires burned in embers and along the walls tortured animals hung dead or dying.

"Orcs can't just kill and eat," Elrohir muttered.

Bile rose to Orophin's mouth, but he held himself in check. The cave gave way to three corridors. Whatever still hid in that cave lay beyond the tunnels. They advanced through the one on the left but it led to a small closed chamber cluttered with crude weaponry and spoils. They went back and chose the middle one this time. The tunnel was longer, but it lead to a bigger chamber. They saw shadows waving on the walls but they could not see the Orcs. Before they could react a desperate band fell on they from the ceiling.

Confusion ensued. Many torches fell and Radagast let his fire flicker. Orophin grappled blindly, trying to discern friend from foe. Radagast and Elrohir shouted orders for regrouping but the close combat was too intense. The dim light grew as soon as Radagast was able to free himself, but not in time to prevent some losses. Orophin was caught by his hair from behind and twisted to the ground. The creature hit him with a scimitar, but it did not pierce his chain mail. He tried to rise but an Orc corpse fell on him trapping him. The Orc yanked his hair, preparing to decapitate him. At the last minute a violent slash hit Orophin from behind. Stunned, he barely realized that his head was free from the deadly grasp. It took him a few moments to free himself from under the body and return to his feet. By the time he did, the brawl was waning. He looked around. That single fight had cost as many elven lives as the battle that had taken place the night before.

His head hurt and a trickle of blood ran down the back of his neck. Only when he reached to touch his head did he realize that the slash that had saved him by setting his head free had cost him his hair and now it barely hung to his shoulders. One of the Elven bodies moved, and a whimper came to his ears. He turned and tried to reach it, but he tripped, falling on his knees. Nearby lay Elrohir, covered in blood and Orophin's blond hair. His saviour had achieved to free him even after he lay hurt on the ground. Orophin crawled to Elrohir and cradled his head.

"Radagast!" he called. "Here, come quickly."

~~~~~~

Part II - The Struggle Within

The nightmare was over. The Elven party had tended to their wounded, buried their dead with proper ceremony and last had burned the Orc carcasses, cleansing the camp. Now they were ready to leave. A few minor Orc dens remained untouched, but others would have to tend to them. It was time to go home.

They crossed the Anduin towards the east and gathered their horses at Beorn's. Then they headed south, home. Elrohir and the other gravely wounded survivors were carefully carried by their comrades. Orophin cared for him, from gratitude for saving his life, but also from true concern. Elrohir had lost too much blood from a blade to the head and he ran a high fever from the poisoned Orc weapons. They feared for his survival but by the time they had reached the borders of Amon Lanc, he still held on to life and Orophin thanked the Valar for that.

Once there, Celeborn had taken to caring for his grandson, but Orophin visited every day. The group was hailed as heroes after they had told their tales. That was a dream that every warrior held dear to his heart, but now that Orophin had obtained that status in such an improbable manner it felt hollow.

After a few days, Elrohir's fever finally broke. When Orophin visited him in the afternoon he was conscious but very tired. He smiled and fell asleep. Orophin sat by his side, for the first time believing that he would survive.

~~~~~~

It had become a ritual of sorts: Orophin came every afternoon to Elrohir's room and read for him. The skin had slowly closed around the gash that ran from forehead to ear, leaving a angry red welt. Elrohir no longer had fever, but the blow had somehow tampered with his sense of balance and the vision in his left eye was still blurred. He sat in bed listening to Orophin's reading. Then they would talk about current matters, local gossip, but rarely about their adventure. One afternoon Elrohir stopped Orophin's reading earlier.

"I like your accent."

Orophin looked up from his book, surprised. "I thought you had lost interest in flirting."

"It was an honest compliment."

Orophin hesitated, embarrassed. "Well, thank you then. At least there is still something nice about me."

"Why would you say that?" Elrohir moved to sit up.

"Well, my hair..." He self-consciously brushed his fingertips through his hair. After it had been evened out it hung just below Orophin's jaw. "I mean I am very thankful for what you did. Elbereth knows where you found the strength..."

"It still looks pretty..." Again Elrohir deflected any conversation of the battle as he had often done before.

"Now you have to be flirting. That or being kind... I don't need sympathy, Elrohir," Orophin said flatly although trying to keep all aggression from his voice.

"It was neither. It does look good on you. It makes your features softer... or maybe that is because you actually have learned how to smile lately."

Unwittingly, Orophin smiled. "Now you are flirting."

Elrohir held his hand. "What if I was?"

Orophin removed his hand. "I'm still not interested. You use people... don't you?"

Elrohir pressed his lips close. "So brave in the battlefield and yet..."

Orophin looked up, sparks flying from his eyes, but before he could protest Elrohir spoke again.

"Orophin, whom did I use? Was it a close friend of yours? Someone from your family? Someone from Lórien, even? Tell me."

"People tell tales." Orophin blushed.

"I know. I know all about them. People never stop themselves before sharing their impressions of my brother and me...do you have anything more solid than a reputation for wantonness?"

Orophin shook his head, his eyes still trained on the blanket, but he did not apologise. "Remember that day when you said there was another reason for your interest in me?" he asked, trying to change subjects.

"Yes."

"Do you suppose you could tell me now?"

"Is it that important? You seem to think I'm quite shallow."

Orophin looked up to face Elrohir. "No, not at all."

Elrohir sighed. "We are both brotherless... that was all. I wondered how it felt like for you, why you chose to stay instead of sailing."

Orophin nodded. "I've asked myself that very question about you..."

"So you will tell me?"

Orophin nodded. "My parents sailed just before the War of the Ring but we remained. We wanted to protect Lórien. Rúmil was badly hurt during the cleansing of Dol Guldur and he and Haldir also decided to sail West. I am the youngest, you know? Something like that trip to the North would have never happened if they were here. Haldir would have gone in my stead, or perhaps Rúmil."

"So you stayed to emancipate yourself."

"You could say that." Orophin played absently with the book on his lap.

"But?"

"Why do you think there is a 'but'?"

"There always is."

"But, except for this thing we did, nothing exceptional happened. I realized that the limits in my life are set by me and I don't know how to change them."

Elrohir nodded. "I once felt liked that. But you see, what we did in the North was extraordinary. Not in the way that creates great legends – trust me, this is one battle that won't go down in our histories. But we set our goals, fulfilled them against all odds and lived to tell them. Isn't that worthy to you?"

Orophin hesitated. "In the cave... the Orcs... they looked young. Orc children?"

Elrohir snorted. "Did you think Orcs came from mud? That's also legend you know; they breed like us. There are even rumours that Morgoth himself fathered the child of an ogress."

A feeling of queasiness coursed through Orophin. He stared vacantly at the book.

Elrohir insisted. "Children or not, they would grow to kill and corrupt everything they touched. Don't feel guilty. We did our job, and we did it well."

"If you say so."

"I do say so."

Orophin rose and returned the book to its shelf. "Tomorrow we start a new one and you tell me why you chose to stay."

Elrohir nodded.

~~~~~~

Orophin read. His throat was parched, but he read on, trying to find the right rhythm for the ancient poetry. He was not sure if Elrohir still listened or if he had fallen asleep. The book had been a bad choice: 'The Lay of Leithian' was hardly the best material to continue the light mood Orophin had tried to create in the last few days. He slowly closed the book and tiptoed to the door. Elrohir woke with a jerk.

"Wait, wait," he mumbled. "I'm sorry that I drifted."

Orophin came closer. "Don't worry about it. Those poems are..."

"Indescribably boring, I know. I'm sorry I asked for them. I don't know what I was thinking."

Orophin smiled. "Maybe you were needing a little sleep, eh?"

"Sleep is all I do lately," Elrohir sighed.

"Do you want me to go?"

"No, no. Sit here." Elrohir patted the bed.

Orophin moved to his usual chair, but Elrohir called out. "No, here, closer to me."

"I was thinking on our conversation yesterday." Elrohir started. "You never told me how exactly you wanted your life to change..."

Orophin looked to his hand embarrassed. "Probably because I am not sure myself."

"Ah, I see."

"You must think I'm a fool..."

"Not really." Elrohir reached out to take Orophin's hand. "You don't always have to have a dream, although it helps."

Orophin snorted but Elrohir didn't let the conversation be swayed by amusement. "It seems to me that you are waiting for your life to begin," he said softly.

"What is your dream? Why did you stay?" Orophin asked, trying to change the focus of the conversation.

"There are a few things that I hope to do in my limited time here, but I wouldn't call them 'dreams' – that's a too grand word."

"What would you call them?"

"Short term projects. Keeping the scant remainder of our people safe. Helping Estel and my sister where I can."

Orophin bit his lip pensively. "Those are fine goals, but they sound... prosaic. You gave me the impression that there would be something more to your decision to stay."

"Sharp as always. In a way, we are travelling the same road. Would you be surprised if I told you that I too seek emancipation?"

Orophin raised an eyebrow. "Yes, I would. From what? The gossip, the legends about you?"

Elrohir laughed. "No, I don't think I can do anything about those. Others think what they want to think."

"From your brother?" Orophin asked tentatively, surprise ringing in his words.

Elrohir nodded. "In a way, yes. Elladan never babied me, if that is what you're thinking, but after our mother sailed we became too close, too dependent on one another. We had to. Our lives depended on it in the wilderness, but now I need room to find myself, as lonely as it might be without my best friend by my side."

Orophin nodded. "I envy you. I don't think I will ever be that close to someone else."

Elrohir squeezed his hand. "You could. Give yourself a chance."

Orophin averted his eyes, but Elrohir sat up and caressed his face, slowly turning it to face him. He leaned forward, keeping Orophin's cheek trapped in his palm as if to kiss him.

"I think you like me. I think I interested you even before, when you would reject every one of my attempts. And I know I like you. Is it so hard to believe that it could work?"

Orophin faintly shook his head 'yes'. Elrohir closed the space between their lips, delivering a soft kiss. Orophin moved back, surprised despite the circumstances, but Elrohir chased him. They kissed slowly, measuring each other, but after a few moments, Elrohir dropped back onto the pillows.

"I'm sorry," he said. "The room started spinning again."

Orophin smiled, staring at his knees.

"You could come here and kiss me..." Elrohir proposed, "or was it that bad?"

Orophin grinned and inched closer on the bed. He leaned over Elrohir, placing an arm on each side of him and stared down at his smile.

"I don't understand..." Orophin said pensively. "Why should someone like you take interest in me?"

Elrohir sighed, disappointed. Once again he cupped Orophin's cheek, running his thumb up and down in a slow massage. "Don't you believe that you could be loved? Desired?"

"No." Orophin winced. "Desired yes, loved no." He straightened on the bed. "Maybe it's time I should be going."

Elrohir placed his hand on his thigh, holding him down. "Don't."

Orophin shook his head in assent but didn't move closer.

"The same way you heard things about me, I heard stories about you," Elrohir started.

Orophin turned his face away.

"I'd like to hear your version one day, if you ever want to talk about it."

Orophin stayed silent.

Elrohir gently squeezed his thigh. "Come here..."

Orophin rose impulsively and placed a quick peck on Elrohir's lips.

"I will be back tomorrow."

~~~~~~

Orophin almost didn't keep his promise. He stood outside Elrohir's talan, looking up and considering the possibilities. Then he decided to take a risk. His unfortunate love life was already motive for scorn, so what would one more failure matter?

He climbed the stairs and entered the room, greeting Elrohir in his usual manner. His heart raced in his chest, but he went to the bookshelf and searched the titles in his usual manner.

"What would you like to hear today?" he asked with his back turned to Elrohir.

Elrohir did not reply. Orophin turned to face him and there he sat on the bed with arms.

"Orophin..."

"What is it?"

"Let's not play games and behave as if nothing happened."

Orophin felt warmth creeping up his cheeks. "That was not what I was doing."

"What was it then?"

Orophin stood by the shelf with books in his hand, feeling foolish. "I thought you'd want to-"

"I want you to sit by my side, here," Elrohir patted the bed.

Orophin obediently crossed the room and sat on the edge of the bed.

"Kiss me, Orophin. Like you were going to yesterday before your nerve fled."

Orophin moved away, but Elrohir yanked his wrist. "You want this. Don't be proud. Don't be scared."

He sat up like the day before but he did not close the space between them. Slowly, as if in a dream, Orophin fell in his direction. The kiss felt like lightning.

Elrohir fell back to the pillows. "More. I want more," he ordered with a smile plastered on his face.

Orophin complied. This time, they deepened the kisses, tasting each other. A few strands of short blond hair came between them and both moved to tuck them behind Orophin's ear.

"I do like your short hair," Elrohir said somewhat breathlessly. Orophin grinned.

"Come on, take your boots off and lie beside me," Elrohir invited. Orophin raised an eyebrow.

"Oh please," Elrohir rolled his eyes. "Don't worry, I'm not in shape to threaten your virtue."

Laughing Orophin heeled his boots off and lay as ordered, draping an arm around Elrohir's waist.

"Well, you are at a disadvantage, because I am more than able to threaten yours."

"That sounds good."

Orophin kissed him again. Each time he did, his heart melted a little. He was so happy and confused that he felt he could explode in Elrohir's arms. Slowly, he dared running with his hand over the covers. Elrohir grabbed the hand and rubbed it over a conspicuous bulge. They giggled.

"Are you sure?" Orophin asked.

Elrohir chuckled. "I'm sure I want it, I'm not sure I can take it. You make me forget how much my head hurts."

Orophin kissed on the corner of the lip, almost chastely, but Elrohir deepened the kiss. "We have time, don't we?" he asked with some concern.

"Aye," Orophin replied, gently pulling away.

The lay quietly for a while, until the intensity of the moment subsided. Elrohir took Orophin's hand in his, and took it to his lips. "I wanted you from the first moment I saw you."

Orophin snorted. "Do you realize how trite that sounds?"

Elrohir chuckled. "Yes. There are other trite things that I could tell you... that I love the way you smell, or that I've never seen blue like that in your eyes or that I hunger for your skin... they would all be true."

Orophin turned serious. "I would prefer not to hear them from you."

Elrohir sighed. "Bad memories? I am not him, you know."

Orophin winced, extracting his hand from Elrohir's. "Can we not discuss this?"

"We can. Just trust me, all right?"

Orophin nodded. "So when was this 'first time' that you saw me?" he asked in a lighter tone.

Elrohir grinned. "You might not believe it but it was still during Amroth's reign... I think it was the second time my brother and I visited my grandparents. I remember Arwen was still a child and cried rivers because she couldn't come. We could almost hear her over the Misty Mountains."

Orophin laughed. "I don't believe you! That was such a long time ago."

"It's true. You were a page then. I thought that Amroth's livery should be midnight blue instead of forest green. To suit your eyes."

Orophin raised his head from the pillow to better look at Elrohir. "But you never even talked to me."

Elrohir shrugged. "If I remember correctly, the Noldor were largely unappreciated in Lórien in those days."

"True... though you are not just Noldor."

"Anyway, when I visited the third time, you were gone to the southern border."

Orophin nodded.

"I tried to think of you as an innocent crush, and I confess I had almost forgotten about you until I came here to Amon Lanc."

"I don't know what to say."

"You don't have to say anything."

They lay silently, playing with each other's fingers, occasionally kissing. The afternoon dimmed into dusk, but Orophin was not ready to leave Elrohir's side. Voices came from the ground below.

"That should be my dinner," Elrohir explained.

Orophin sat up, straightening his hair and clothes. "I should go now," he said half-heartedly.

"They always bring more than I can eat. Stay. Please."

Orophin sat in his chair. A page from Celeborn's house entered the talan carrying a basket. Elrohir thanked him and bid him good night. They dined, chitchatting about innocuous subjects, then Orophin put the dishes back in the basket.

"Is there anything I can do for you, before I go?" he asked.

"Can you stay?" Elrohir asked.

Orophin wanted to say 'yes' but something stopped him.

"All right, tomorrow, then," Elrohir conceded with a sad smile.

~~~~~~

The next afternoon came too slowly for Orophin's taste. He still had doubts, so many doubts about this involvement with Elrohir, but he decided that he would be happy while it lasted. He found that he longed to be close to Elrohir, hear his voice, touch his body. The previous day replayed in his head, enhanced by imagination and hopes.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts that when he arrived at the talan the sight of Elrohir out of bed caught him by surprise.

"You are up?"

"Just for a short trip to the pot, if you excuse my frankness. I'm already feeling my head spin again."

Orophin helped him to bed.

"I like taking care of you..."

"I like being pampered."

"But I also worry for you. Do you feel any better?"

"I'm seeing better now, and I can stay up longer," Elrohir replied. "Don't worry, I will be fine. I simply need a little more pampering."

"That I can do." Orophin sat on the bed, kissed Elrohir and extracted something round wrapped in a handkerchief. "Here."

Elrohir avidly took his present. "A pomegranate! Where did you find this here?"

"This is from Lórien. A friend went there on an errand and I asked him to bring some back, since it's their time."

"Let's share!" Elrohir proposed enthusiastically.

Orophin carefully cut it in half, but some drops of juice slipped from his hand, staining Elrohir's sheets.

"Sorry," he said, trying to balance the fruit halves without making any further mess.

Elrohir grinned. "Don't be."

He took one half in his hand and extracted a few seeds with his fingers. He took them to his mouth, licking his fingers lasciviously, then pulled Orophin close for a kiss. They let their tongues war for the sweet seeds until they had to swallow the juice.

"Did I mention that I am feeling stronger each day?" Elrohir asked, laying back on the pillows. "And hotter." He pulled loose the strings of his sleeping tunic.

"But just yesterday..." Orophin started.

"Well, you'll have to take care of me. I promise I will repay you fully once I am rid of this blasted injury." He pushed the bedding down.

"If you insist..." Orophin placed the pomegranate on the bedside table and quickly undressed. He lay by Elrohir's side, helping him remove his clothes. They kissed for a long time, touching softly at first then growing bolder as their blood ran faster.

"Do you think I should mouth feed you the rest of the pomegranate?" Orophin whispered in Elrohir's ear, after nibbling his way up from his throat. "It is said they are an aphrodisiac."

Elrohir moaned as Orophin nibbled on his ear. "So you had other intentions?"

"Of course..." Orophin continued, planting kisses and nibbling down to Elrohir's nipples.

Elrohir arched his back and twined his fingers in Orophin's hair, pulling up for a kiss. "I have to lay down," he asked apologetically. "It's as if I don't have enough blood in my head."

Orophin took the pillows from behind him and tossed them to the floor, helping him lie down. "Better this way?"

Elrohir nodded yes.

"Good. Now perhaps I can find out where all that blood has run..."

Elrohir chuckled but his laughter turned to a gasp as Orophin found his mark and swallowed it whole.

"I can see that you don't have much taste for subtlety," he gasped, clutching Orophin's hair.

Orophin chuckled, sending waves of sensation through Elrohir's body, and then renewed his efforts until Elrohir rocked his hips to the same rhythm and sang a song of moans and whimpers.

Elrohir grasped Orophin's hair tighter, trying to stop him before the waves of heat spreading from his groin took him over in release, but his pleas were thoroughly ignored. Orophin worked relentlessly for his lover's pleasure until his climax fell upon him.

When he opened his eyes Orophin smiled at him. "I don't think anyone in a two mile radius missed that," he teased.

Elrohir smiled, embarrassed. "I'm sorry. I'm not sorry, actually. Come here." He pulled Orophin to him for a kiss.

"I'm so tired..." he sighed into Orophin's shoulder as he buried his face in the blond locks. "That was too intense."

"Thank you, I think." Orophin chuckled, tenderly stroking Elrohir's flank. "Rest now," he said, kissing Elrohir's closed eyelids.

"No, I want to touch you..."

"Shhh..." Orophin returned Elrohir's stray hand to his chest.

"At least let me watch you," Elrohir begged.

"All right." Orophin knelt on the bed then sat back on his heels, facing Elrohir as he began to stroke himself. Elrohir watched from under his half-closed lids, a slow smile lighting his face. After his orgasm, Orophin dropped trembling to Elrohir's side. Elrohir drew the loose strands of blond hair from his face with tender gestures.

"Pomegranates are also the fruit of love and fidelity," he whispered.

Orophin nodded. "I know."

They slept the afternoon away in each other's arms.

~~~~~~

By dusk the young elf brought more food. This time, when he entered the room he found both lovers unclad and asleep. His hasty retreat woke them. Orophin sat up, hastily searching for his clothes, until Elrohir stopped him with a hand on his arm.

"He's gone now. We can stay as we are."

Orophin let his shirt fall, but did not lie back when Elrohir pulled his arm.

"What is it?" Elrohir finally asked, sitting up to embrace him from behind.

"You know, I can almost swear that they are placing odds on how long it will last and for whom you'll leave me. Stupid little Orophin still hasn't gotten into his head what his place is."

"I'm not leaving you. Forget about them."

"Have you been the butt of jokes your entire life?"

Elrohir held him tighter. "Maybe not jokes, but gossip. Don't let those thoughts spoil this, please."

Orophin sat quietly. "A part of me wonders when you will tire of me."

"I love you." Elrohir loosened his embrace and slowly fell back. "Sorry, I still can't be up for too long. I am weary"

Orophin recovered the pillows from the floor and tucked them behind Elrohir. "Maybe we shouldn't have..."

"I said I love you," Elrohir insisted. "Or at least I am in love with you, and I want to be with you, carnally and otherwise. I love your dry sense of humour, and the way you don't seem to have any problem telling the mighty son of Elrond he is wrong. I love your sad smile but I want to turn it into a happy one."

"I want to be with you too..." Orophin replied feebly.

"Orophin, you are not the first elf whose lover rejected him. You are not the last who will be publicly humiliated, betrayed, laughed at. You certainly are not the only one who has sold himself short to unworthy people. Let it go. I know it's hard, but do it for me. Have faith in me."

Orophin nodded, but did not look at Elrohir. "You wanted to hear my side of the story. You seem to already know enough, but you'll hear it now."

He rose from the bed and put on his leggings. Then he took the food from the basket and placed a tray on Elrohir's knees.

"Eat." Elrohir picked a chunk of bread and held it out for Orophin.

"I can even understand how someone like you would see the whole affair – innocuous and forgettable – but it was my first love. He was from Gildor's company; I committed the sin of falling for a male, and a Noldo. After announcing our promises of eternal love to the world and defying my parents, he returned the next Spring with another on his arm. No one was too forgiving. Centuries have passed and I am still expected to be the last resort for random encounters because I am not worth anything more – not even the Noldo wanted me, in the words of my former bed partners. So I quit. Until you."

Elrohir dropped his bread and placed the tray to the side. "Have faith in me," he pleaded, inching forward to embrace Orophin. "If you lived in Imladris people would never mention this except with compassion. It's your people and I'm sorry if I offend, but it's the truth. What remains of Lórien is nothing but a village of meddling fools. Do you wonder why my brother and I never stayed here for too long?"

Orophin nodded. "I know. But after so many people telling me what I am not worth for so long, it's hard not to believe."

"I wish I could take you away... but in this land there are not many places left where I want to be."

Orophin nodded. "I know what you mean. You should eat before it gets cold." He pushed the tray to Elrohir."

"Always pragmatic," Elrohir teased.

They ate in silence, then as before, Orophin put away the dishes in the basket.

"Sleep with me tonight," Elrohir asked.

Orophin silently pushed down his leggings and lay in the bed by Elrohir's side, watching him until he was fast asleep. Only then did he allow himself to blow out the candle and sleep too.

~~~~~~

Imladris, 120 Fourth Age

Orophin entered the library looking for Elrohir. He found him crumpled in a chair, facing the cold November light that poured through the windows. His eyes were rimmed red.

"What happened? What news did the courier bring?"

Elrohir handed him a letter. It was sent from Gondor from Legolas Greenleaf. King Elessar had died. Elrohir mourned for his brother. Orophin sat on the arm of the chair and silently held him.

"Did you read it all?" Elrohir asked after a time.

"Yes."

"So you know Legolas is sailing too."

"Yes, with Gimli."

"He's as insane as ever. He is also a brother of sorts to me, as you know. And my sister will soon..." a sob stopped Elrohir.

Orophin ran his fingers through his hair. "I know, my love."

"Legolas says she's heading for Lórien. I know she wants to depart in peace and solitude, but I want to go there."

"I will go with you. We will watch over her."

Elrohir nodded. "Thank you."

Orophin kissed his hair. "I'll start preparing."

~~~~~~

Orophin would always remember the months they spent in Lórien as the most painful in his very long life. Every day Elrohir would leave discrete gifts of food and small comforts for Arwen by dawn to find them untouched by dusk. Elrohir would sit the nights awake, watching her fitful sleep, always from afar. Often Orophin found his lover red-eyed and withdrawn. He wanted to ease his pain, but Elrohir kept silent. All he could do was help him with the task of guarding Arwen's last days on Middle-earth. Each day she faded more, resembling more a ghost than the vibrant woman Orophin had known.

When one dawn he found Elrohir holding her lifeless body, lost in dry sobbing, he felt shameful relief. Not that he wished for the Evenstar to die, but he could not longer watch either of them wasting themselves in grief. He took Elrohir to their talan, and gave him a sleeping draught. Then he set himself to the difficult task of preparing Arwen's body for the last ceremony.

When everything was done he called Elrohir for the final prayers, then they left. They rode out of Caras Galadhon in the middle of the day with no specific destination.

"I have to leave now..." Elrohir said after some time. "Arwen... I was only allowed to stay until her end came. I told you that I would never leave you, but staying means..."

"I will go with you wherever you go," Orophin cut in softly. "Do you want to visit your places one last time or shall we cross the mountains and head for Mithlond?"

Elrohir sighed. "Mithlond. I'll leave a note for my grandfather with Círdan. Unless you want to see your friends one last time."

"No... no. We will meet again I am sure. But now it's time to go."

They rode in silence for a while longer. Then the dam broke. Elrohir started talking of a past he did not share with Orophin, of an Arwen only her family knew, times of love and laughter and of pain and hopelessness. Orophin listened, tried to comfort him with an occasional touch and small noises of assent.

Night fell but they continued riding under the stars. They rode on for days, sometimes lost in their thoughts, sometimes talking about their pasts and their futures. Orophin poured his love into the remarkable elf who had saved him from an empty life through love and faith, giving him the strength he needed in that difficult moment.

One day they saw Mithlond on the horizon. By nightfall they were at Círdan's door and in less than a week they boarded a small vessel, for long gone were the days of the great grey ships. They looked East as they sailed away, until no land was left on the horizon.

Elrohir held him under the stars and quietly recited an ancient poem every elf knew from childhood.

Shall I love you like the wind, love,
   That is so fierce and strong,
That sweeps all barriers from its path
   And recks not right or wrong?
The passion of the wind, love,
   Can never last for long.

Shall I love you like the fire, love,
   With furious heat and noise,
To waken in you all love's fears
   Ands little of love's joys?
The passion of the fire, love,
   Whate'ver it finds; destroys.

I will love you like the stars, love,
   Set in the heavenly blue,
That only shine the brighter
   After weeping tears of dew;
Above the wind and fire, love,
   They love the ages through!

And when this life is o'er, love,
   With all its joys and jars,
We'll leave behind the wind and fire
   To wage their boisterous wars, –
Then we shall only be, love,
   The nearer to the stars.

As if Elbereth herself blessed their union, the stars shone brighter against the deep blue sky. They faced West and the life that stretched afore them.

The End

~~~~~~

Celeg (swift, agile), Sador (faithful one), from Hiswelókë's Sindarin dictionary (Edition 1.6, Lexicon 0.993)

Deluhathol (Deadly blade), Berenind (Brave heart) from Medulsed

The poem is 'Song' by R. W. Raymond.