The Littlest Warrior

The peacefulness of the southern border of Imladris belied the danger that lay just beneath the canopy of the dense green forest. It had taken a full day for Elrohir and the newly doubled sentry team to reach the southern gateway and the young elf sensed an air of unease amongst the trees. It was at times like these that he wished wholeheartedly that he’d developed a better affinity with the woody mammoths. He and his brother had often teased their woodland friend Legolas over his ability to speak with these long-lived majestic giants, arguing that communicating with animals was more advantageous. However, on this day it seemed as though the trees were determined to make themselves heard. Something was at odds here, and they wanted the elves to know.

The wind began to pick up, swirling the leaves that littered the forest floor into tubular eddies that danced along as if led by some unseen silent partner. Vindil and Aphrod were close to the end of their tour at the southern sentry post and were slowly beginning to pack up their belongings for the trip home. The relief column would arrive shortly and after a week at the outpost both elves were anxious to get back to the Last Homely House, and Lady Nilya’s excellent cooking. A week of dried meats, hard pallets and “catch as catch can” improvised meals had them ready to bid farewell to the outpost and hello to the comforts of home.

As the serious, “by the rules” Vindil stood watch in the trees, his affable easy-going patrol partner Aphrod continued packing up their camp. As elves go, Aphrod was viewed as one who had particularly well developed sensory skills, and at the moment they were working overtime. There was a scent on the air that Aphrod could not place. His nose told him that it was human, or humankind, but his brain said otherwise, there was something not quite right about it, something…off-putting. It was not a scent that the average nose would even detect, certainly no man would be able to smell it, and as the scent became more intensified Aphrod became more ill at ease and called to Vindil in the canopy above.

“Vindil! See you anything amiss?”

“If there was something amiss think you that I would not tell it? Why do you ask?”

“A scent.”

“Ahh, your famous nose again, or should I say ‘infamous’. Methinks you should visit the healers once we return home gwador nín, that nose of yours detects things that no other elf can smell, it must be some kind of abnormality!” he chortled.

“Laugh if you will, but I tell you there is a strange scent on the air; I think you should do a sweep of our perimeter.”

“I smell nothing, and I see nothing, tis just your overactive imagination playing tricks on you again. I still have not forgotten that incident where you thought you saw a warg, only to find out later that it was merely a stray mule - loose from the pastures.”

“Do you never intend to let me live that down? That was over two hundred years ago and still you plague me with it, and I will have you know it could very well have been a warg, it was a very BIG mule!”

“Nevertheless,” Vindil said laughingly, “there is nothing there!”

“As you say,” Aphrod acquiesced, then mumbled under his breath, “…but I still say I smell something.”

It was the first time in many long years that Vindil failed to follow protocol. Known, as one who always obeyed the rules, his offhand dismissal of Aphrod’s concerns would prove to be a fatal mistake, one that would haunt him for many days to come. As Aphrod finished packing he could not dispel the feeling that he was being watched, and despite Vindil’s assertion that they were alone, he decided that one of them should do the sweep. If it would not be Vindil in the trees, then it would have to be him on the ground. Looking back up into the canopy he called out. “I am going to take a look around.”

Exasperated with the young elf’s persistence Vindil responded testily, “Suit yourself, but I tell you there is nothing out there.”

Aphrod decided he’d had enough of this seemingly unending underestimation of his talented nose, and responded in kind. “I will look all the same!” he said heatedly, then promptly grabbed his bow and quiver and stomped off into the woods following the scent, muttering as he went.

“I do not understand why no one believes me when I tell them that I smell things that they cannot. Udalin as much as said that he thinks I am imagining things and even Lord Elrond has given me questioning looks…if I did not know better I would think…,” the young elf stopped in his tracks, the scent came over him in a rush, heated, evil? Was that what he smelled? It was as if he had walked into a room that was locked with the scent inside. “Who goes there?” he called out as he nocked an arrow. “I know you are out there, show yourself now or seal your fate if I come upon you!”

~~~~~~

Elrohir and Lethros rode side by side down the trail to the southern sentry post following Rilloth and Panír, while Imril and Braneth two of Lord Elrond’s most experienced warriors brought up the rear. Normally the twins would be found together, but long before this situation arose, Lord Glorfindel separated them whenever he could. Having witnessed firsthand how reckless the twins could be in their seemingly endless quest for orc blood, Glorfindel decided that if they could not be controlled when they were out in the wilderness on their own, he would make sure that when they were under their father’s roof, and his command, that a new set of rules would apply. To that end, he made Elrond aware of his concern, noting that allowing the twins to always ride together in the field was too risky.

As patrol leaders in Imladris’ defense force, the two were never contradicted by their troops in the field, and without some form of checks and balances they would indubitably ride side by side at the head of the column. Glorfindel’s argument was that in the event of an attack they would most assuredly be the first ones targeted, and the thought of Elrond losing both his sons in battle was not an option. So, with Elrond’s blessing, Imladris’ Commander split the two apart for the first time in their lives, sending one to the southern border and the other to the east. Further, if they found themselves in a situation where they had to ride in the same patrol, he forbid them to ever ride point and gave each a ‘companion’ who, unbeknownst to the twins, had specific instructions to make sure that Glorfindel’s orders were carried out. It also helped him to solve a second problem, as the brothers Lethros and Brithil were almost as inseparable as the twins and equally as stubborn. They had, in the past, devised some rather ingenious ways of being assigned to the same details, ensuring that they would never be far from one another.

Glorfindel saw this too as a potential problem, as peaceful as Imladris usually was, he did not wish to ever be in the position of having to tell a set of parents that both their sons had been killed; so to that end he separated them as well, sending Brithil to ride with Elladan leaving Lethros to ride with Elrohir. He would not let it be said, that here, in his second life, he was careless or cavalier with the lives of others, especially those who had so much to live for.

As the sentry party approached a bend in the trail leading to the outpost, the peaceful tranquility of their surroundings was shattered by a scream so loud it seemed to split the very air around them. Rilloth and Panír reined their mounts to a stop as Braneth and Imril closed the distance – effectively protecting their young Lord’s back.

“Sweet Eru, did you hear that?” Imril yelled.

“It is coming from up ahead,” Rilloth confirmed.

“Elbereth…no…the outpost! Follow me!” Elrohir called out as his grey stallion Gaer-sûl took the lead and bore him past his companions.

“My Lord…no!” yelled Lethros as he moved to cut across Elrohir’s path. “You must not ride out ahead of us!” Elrohir shot him a look that would normally have silenced any underling, but this time Lethros would not be put off, his promise to Glorfindel, though foremost in his mind, was overshadowed by the oath he’d sworn to Lord Elrond himself – he would not let Elrohir take the lead this day.

“Daro! Daro young lord, you will ride with Lethros!” yelled Braneth, the patrol Captain. “I will take the lead, Rilloth fall back to guard our rear!”

Not usually one to employ the tactic of ‘personal station’, Elrohir tried to use his ‘rank’ as Elrond’s heir as he watched Braneth ride up to take his place in the entourage, “You dare to gainsay (contradict) me?” he bellowed.

“Now is not the time for this Lieutenant, you may try to take me to task once we are safely home, but for now you will ride behind your second or you will not ride!” Braneth, Captain over all the patrols, made it crystal clear, station or no station, who was really in charge. Nodding his ‘make it so’ command, Elrohir was forced to sit and watch as the determined young Lethros carried out the order, grabbing the cavesson (noseband) of Elrohir’s spirited stallion and holding on tightly until Rilloth and Braneth assumed their positions. As another scream rent the air Braneth shouted his orders.

“Imril close in tight! To the outpost, everyone watch your flanks…RIDE!”

Ignoring Elrohir’s steely glare Lethros finally released the reins and rode out behind Braneth – and ahead of Elrohir. The young lord grinned, his suspicions were now confirmed, he and his brother were being “protected,” just as Elladan thought.

‘Oh someone will be taken to task all right, but it will not be you my friend,’ he thought as he chased Lethros towards the sentry station. ‘It seems that Dan and I will have to have a long, long talk with Adar. Whenever will he learn, he cannot coddle us forever?’

As more screams filled the air, thoughts of he and his brother were replaced with the only thought that mattered, ‘Please Eru…do not let us be too late’.