The Exile's Daughter

Unlooked For

"How so?" Galdor asked curiously.

"Elves rarely tire of their lovers, and when we wed, only death can break the bond." I explained with a slight smile.

Elrohir smirked teasingly. I failed to dodge when he ruffled my hair.

Galdor nodded, though I could tell he was still rather confused. Perhaps some differences between the firstborn and men could not be translated. "We should carry on. Tar and Beriadan say they heard strange things last night."

"They said naught to me of any danger." I said quizzically. I hoped the others were not holding distressing information back to protect me. I wanted nothing less than to be shielded.

Galdor frowned slightly, casting his eyes around him thoughtfully. "I think they only half believed what they heard. The dark does strange things to men's senses."

"Then what did they think they heard?" Elrohir asked.

"Soft hooves on grass, and the murmuring of a song – an old nursery rhyme our mothers sang to us." Seeing our raised eyebrows, he clarified. "That is why they didn't mention anything to you or Aragorn. It seemed too strange to be real, Beriadan said."

Elrohir exchanged a quick glance with me. We were both thinking the same – evil men did not know Dúnedain nursery rhymes. We said nothing to the man but pressed silently on.

Unlooked for, and unwanted, hope grew in my heart. However, if any other Dúnedain came to our aid, there could not be more than ten. The men would be fierce in their efforts, but even so they would need to move in secrecy, or the enemy themselves would have reinforcements sent, and our predicament would be even worse than it was.

As we walked, an unpleasant smell wafted under our nostrils. The others exchanged wary glances beside me, and coming to an unspoken decision we veered north, following the scent. Elrohir caught my wrist after a few minutes of walking, pointing to where I knew a dip in the land sat. "Smoke rises from the Dell".

"Perhaps we do have some allies remaining." Galdor's voice was full of a hope I hadn't heard from him for months. We broke into a run, coming up to the slope of the dell and looking down on a scene of destruction.

Smouldering remains were all that was left of what looked like an entire orc pack. Elrohir jumped down to the smoking corpses, and I gave Galdor my hand, ensuring he didn't fall on the steep slopes, slippery with dried wood and leaves.

Bending down beside Elrohir, I sifted gingerly though the mess with my brother's dagger, careful not to touch the still hot remnants of wood and leaves and orcs.

Elrohir extracted a skull from the ruins with the tip of his sword. I wrinkled my nose at the burnt black substance pouring out of a deep crack on the forehead. "Whoever did this is strong and well-armed." He said softly.

"What do you mean?" Galdor asked hopefully.

"We can know nothing for sure until we get back", Elrohir said cautiously. I knew he was trying not to raise our hopes, but when Galdor's back was turned I sent him a questioning look. He only shook his head slightly.

"Look!"

We rose and jogged around to the far west of the dell, where the side was a little less steep, to see Galdor bent beside some unmistakable hoof prints.

"There's more than one set!" he said excitedly.

As much as it pained me to think of other possibilities, I had to give the hopeful young Dúnadan some sense of reality. "Perhaps another of our number was here on horseback last night."