Elladan charged into the woods after his frantic brother, with Glorfindel and Haldir at his side. The Silvan warriors followed them, for their captain was nowhere to be seen and Elladan had seen nothing short of anguish on their faces. Taú may be wild and uncouth, but his warriors held him in the highest esteem; their loyalty was flawless, realised Elrond's son.

They had controlled the open area and neutralised the threat with but a handful of moderate injuries to the warriors. It had been the terrified scream of Arwen that had them charging through the trees now, only to pull up so abruptly that Elrohir's boots skidded upon the fallen leaves, as he brought his curved sword to the fore and plunged it mercilessly into the back of a mighty orc, the palm of his other hand driving it the whole way through.

The orc dropped the scimitar it had been holding over its head, and crumpled like a rag doll to the forest floor, only now revealing the elf that had been on the verge of being sliced into two; Taú.

They stood paralysed for a moment and Elladan's eyes took in the captain's state. There was blood upon his almost limp shoulder, and the side of his jerkin and his entire left leg were also covered. His head was bleeding from a gash to his temple and his chest heaved up and down, a testament to the ferocious battle that had taken place here – and then Elladan's brow furrowed and he looked around. There was no one else here, no more warriors, only Taú and five orc corpses...

"What..." he was about to ask, but Haldir was already running forward until he stopped at the base of a tree and climbed easily into its bows. He disappeared for a moment, and then reappeared with Arwen in his arms.

Elladan gasped and ran forward, taking his sister by the shoulders and looking into her round, shaking eyes. He could feel her body trembling involuntarily and it was all he could do to embrace her, encircling her with his arms and tucking her head under his chin.

Shuffling behind him broke the embrace and Elladan turned. The Silvan captain now lay back in the arms of his elves, and both Elrohir and Haldir knelt by his side.

"We must move out, Captain Taú requires immediate care," said Haldir worriedly.

Elrohir's face snapped to the March Warden.

"You know this elf?" he asked incredulously.

"Oh aye," said Haldir. "We have worked together on many occasions. You have just saved the life of the most able archer this side of the Sundering Seas," he said with a cool, calm confidence and Elrohir's brow rose at the lofty claim, for it was the Lorien archers that were supposedly the best.

"We must get him to my father," murmured Elrohir pensively as he watched the Silvan's chest rise and fall. "Elladan, help me with the captain, we must move quickly."

Elladan nodded, leaving a still trembling Arwen with Glorfindel as Haldir organised the troop to move out.

Elladan unbuckled the captain's harnesses and Elrohir unclasped the leather jerkin he wore, peeling back the softer fabric below, until the shoulder and side wound were revealed.

Halú hissed and Elrohir pursed his lips. "We must staunch the flow or stitch him right here," said the Noldo, as he pressed down hard on the wounds while Elladan checked the Silvan's eyes.

"Concussion," he diagnosed.

A strangled sort of noise left Benár then, who rose abruptly and turned his back on the scene, as if to control himself. Alas it was not to be and he turned just as angrily.

"What happened?" he whispered dangerously. "Why did you engage?" he hissed.

Elrohir looked up at the livid warrior and Elladan saw the quiet apology there. Benár, however, did not and his eyes sparkled and narrowed dangerously.

"You could not wait, could you? You placed us all in danger because YOU could not wait, and you call yourself a lieutenant?" he snarled under his breath.

"Warrior. Calm yourself," said Glorfindel authoritatively and Benár's eyes flickered towards the Noldorin general for a brief moment.

"You could have killed our..."

"Benár!," warned Dorán, his own eyes flashing at his friend, for he had surely been about to blow the captain's cover.

Benár visibly jolted and closed his eyes to steady his rising temper.

Haldir watched the confrontation from beside Glorfindel, and Arwen's eyes shone in nascent understanding.

A cloak of uncomfortable silence had descended over the warriors, until it was broken by Elladan, who placed a calming hand on his silent brother's forearm.

"The captain needs our care now. Concentrate, brother," he said as he removed the wad of cloth over the Silvan's temple to inspect the wound.

Elrohir looked at his brother for a moment, before his eyes returned to his work.

"I will bind them as tightly as I may – it should suffice," he said too lightly, too slowly.

The on-looking warriors finally moved, resuming their duties in awkward silence. They collected their scattered belongings and accommodated the injured upon their horses. Taú, however, would ride with Benár, who had categorically insisted on taking his captain.

And so it was that, moments later, they cantered away from the glade and towards Imladris, each with their own thoughts playing out in their minds' eyes.

Elrohir's stomach was knotted in anguish for the disaster he had caused, and Elladan's heart ached for him.

Haldir too, realised that he had rushed headfirst into a volatile situation that he very well may have been able to avoid, had he acted more intelligently. The Prince of Mirkwood himself had been the one to save Arwen from torture, and it had nearly cost him his life.

As for Glorfindel, he wondered at his wisdom when he had decided to wait, even though he knew the enemy had started to move away from them.

And Arwen – Arwen was frightened, nay terrified – not only because she had nearly perished at the hands of orcs, just like her mother had, but because she had witnessed a Silvan captain in vicious battle. It had scared her, unnerved her so that she could not stop replaying it in her mind, and every time she did, a shudder of anguish would wrack her frame and she would look over to the insensate warrior that rode further down the line, her brow furrowed in sadness and respect.

WOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW

Darkness had fallen, and the group cantered on, now only minutes from home. Glorfindel led them, with the brothers behind him, followed by Haldir and his elves. At the end of the line, were the Silvans, riding exactly where they had on their outbound journey, except for one detail. The Noldorin warriors no longer ignored them, but rode around them, enveloped them in their protective circle. The jokes and the leers and condescending comments had gone, replaced now with a respectful silence and diligent protection.

This wild captain had saved the life of the Evenstar, had battled single-handedly, and paid the price. He had proven himself valorous in their eyes, for there was one thing the Noldor understood well – self-sacrifice was the pillar of wariorship; without it there was no valour, no glory, and this wood-elf had plenty of these things.

The thud of their horses changed to a clatter, and they drew to a halt in the brightly lit courtyard. Erestor and Elrond descended the steps, the latter already rolling up the long sleeves of his robe. He moved from one injured warrior to the next, giving instructions to the healers that now stood behind.

Standing now before Benár's mount, Elrond took in the faces of his warriors, who sat upon their mounts, not quite able to discern their thoughts.

"What has happened?" he asked carefully, his grey eyes glinting in the moonlight, fearing some new brawl had broken out during their mission.

"My Lord," spoke Glorfindel from beside him. "Captain Taú has been grievously wounded in valiant defence of the Evenstar..." he trailed off, watching as Elrond's eyes bulged and his jaw clenched in checked anger.

Glorfindel watched the silent questions flit over his wise face, just as he saw the lord's resolve to push them aside albeit temporarily, and aid the one that had saved his daughter from the same fate as his wife.

And so they took the inert body of Taú from Benár's anguished hands, and carried him into the Halls of Healing, the Noldorin warriors slowly dispersing as they conversed quietly of the day's extraordinary events.

Glorfindel and the brothers followed the healers and the wood-elves until they reached the waiting room area, and made themselves comfortable, or rather as comfortable as they could be with three scowling Silvans sitting across from them.

Glorfindel reminded himself why he had come along. Of course he wanted the entire story, just like the rest of them, but he also feared for Elrohir, for Benár's accusing outburst in the forest had rang a warning bell in his mind. He hoped against hope that Elrohir had not done something rash, as Benár had supposed, but in his heart he knew that he had.

"Benár," began Elladan in a conciliatory tone. "We three are here now to enquire as to your captain's health. Let us hold our peace until such time as we may sit, and discuss today's events. Please," he said, holding out his hands, "'tis not the time for reproach but for solidarity."

Benár's nostrils flared and Halú placed a calming hand on his thigh.

"Your words are wise, my Lord, but your brother's actions are not. I will hold my peace, for the sake of my captain. But know this," said Benár emphatically, leaning over, "when he is out of danger, I will have words with you," he said, half smiling half sneering as his eyes fell heavily on Elrohir.

Glorfindel rose, and his fiery mien sent Benár leaning back into his chair.

"You, warrior, will have to wait your turn, for I shall be speaking with my lieutenant on the matter first."

"Yet I do not wish to speak, my Lord," said Benár quietly, I wish for satisfaction."

Glorfindel's eyebrow rose in utter surprise, for those practices had not been observed for many centuries in Imladris, and he found himself wondering if it was a commonplace thing in Mirkwood.

"There will be no such duel – if that is what you are referring to. Imladris does not condone that kind of behaviour."

"Tell me I am wrong, Lord Glorfindel. Tell me you do not believe that he," he pointed to Elrohir, "sought to lead us all unto ruin, disregarding your orders – tell me!" he shouted finally.

"I will do no such thing!" said Glorfindel dangerously low, stepping towards the fuming wood-elf. "Now, you will hold your Silvan tongue and wait in silence for Lord Elrond to deliver whatever news he has. After, you will retire to the barracks and if I hear one word of any misbehaviour on your part, I will file a complaint to your commanding officers in the Mirkwood. Is that sufficiently clear?" he asked, his nose now but inches away from Benár's face.

"It is, my Lord," replied the Silvan, but his bravado was only barely held under his control, and his companions reached up to pull him down, back into his seat.

Elrohir breathed deeply and hung his head, and Elladan placed a comforting hand on the crown of his head, for he more than any other, understood why his brother had acted the way he had.

WOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOWOW

Twenty minutes had passed in uncomfortable silence, broken only by the saucy kitchen maid who had propositioned the Silvans just the day before. Serving them with hot sweet tea, she curtseyed to them before leaving without a word, her pretty face sad and downcast.

Halú took the tea to his lips and sipped, and then cursed in a language Glorfindel had never heard before – at least he thought it was a curse, for it was hissed and guttural and the Silvan's face was twisted in anger as he licked his lips frantically.

Dorán murmured something to him and Benár snorted, and then oofed as he was elbowed in the ribs.

They were like children, mused Glorfindel, for no sooner had they settled than they were back to scowling, Benár casting the occasional death glare at Elrohir, who deftly avoided it in favour of the ornate ceiling above them.

A thud, and then a clank, had them all standing and the double doors opened to reveal Elrond, clad now in a long apron that covered him from neck to ankle. He was still wiping his bloody hands upon a towel which he promptly passed to an accompanying healer, his eyes glancing over the occupants of the room knowingly.

"The stab wound to the shoulder was deep and caused some damage to the surrounding tissue. The cut to his side did not reach anything vital and the blow to the head has caused a concussion from which Captain Taú has yet to wake. This is what concerns us most. He must wake, and be kept awake for as long as possible."

"What..." began Halú, but he was cut off by a swipe of the lord's hand.

"I have not finished," he said imperiously, and Glorfindel suddenly realised that he was – angry.

"Warriors of the Mirkwood," he began quietly. "Wherefore, this deceit?" he asked, and the three Silvan's stomachs fell to their boots.

"Deceit, my Lord?" asked Benár as innocently as he could.

"You did not tell me that Captain Taú is not simply your Captain..." the Silvans closed their eyes in dreaded anticipation as Elrond continued to speak. "...but Captain of the entire army of the Mirkwood, or so his insignia implies..." he finished, the angular face searching the three Silvans as he waited for a reply.

Benár's eyes shot up to the lord, realising it was not quite what they had feared.

"My Lord, 'tis not malicious deceit but a necessary defence tactic."

"You believe yourselves to be amongst the enemy here, in my home?" he asked.

Benár hesitated for a moment, and Glorfindel honestly could not blame him for that.

"My Lord, it was deemed necessary, given the – circumstances. Mirkwood has not been on the best of terms with your esteemed home, Lord Elrond. We were – uncertain – as to our welcome."

Indeed their welcome had been tepid at best, and violent at the worst, and Elrond spared a glance at Glorfindel.

"I see," he said, the fire gone from his voice now.

"I will have a full report, Glorfindel, my sons," he said. "Get some rest," he turned now to the Silvans. "We will care for your – general – and you will be notified should anything happen."

"I will not leave, my Lord," said Benár stubbornly and Elrond turned back to the insolent wood-elf.

"There is nothing you can do," he said.

"Nonetheless. 'Tis my place to be at his side..." He did not ask for permission and Elrond simply nodded at him, stepping aside and allowing him into the inner halls, watching as the remaining two warriors spared a warning glance at Elrohir, and then left.

"Five minutes," said Elrond to his sons and general, before turning back into the halls.