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Vengeance by KimicThranduilion

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Poppy red blood welled up from the slash on his upper left arm and Elrohir hissed in annoyance. The cursed orc was too close – or at least its scimitar was. Elrohir grit his teeth and swung himself out of the way of another sweeping thrust of the scimitar. The orc snarled, enraged that it had missed slicing his arm off and steadied itself for another swing at him.

It was time to end this. Elrohir thought he had done the dance of death with this creature for long enough now. He was tired of its presence and he wanted to get back to his twin. Somehow during the melee he and Elladan had been separated – something he hated.

Elrohir saw the dull black blade come swinging at him again and brought up his long twin blades to block the blow. The harsh clash of the metal blades meeting reverberated down his arms but Elrohir held strong and with a foul curse he kicked out hard at the creature’s stomach. The orc stumbled backwards, grip on its scimitar loosened and Elrohir took his chance to close the ground between them and this time he aimed a sweeping kick to its legs.

The orc fell to its knees on the blood slicked ground, scimitar flying out from its hands to lie a good few hundred yards away and Elrohir stepped in front of it quickly sheathing his twin blades and instead drawing Hyandënóla in a move that was second nature to him.

“Look at me scum!”

“Why should I look at you Lul Gijak-ishi?”

Elrohir jerked back the orcs head by its coarse black hair and let Hyandënóla’s cold blade rest against its leathery neck before pressing down and drawing a little of its foul black blood.

“This is why Glamhoth,” he spat.

The orc turned beady yellow eyes on him and Elrohir felt something twist in him; it was something deep and something very dark. Something that hurt him and at the same time angered him.

With no warning besides a wicked smile Elrohir let go of the orcs hair and let his broad sword sing as he neatly decapitated his kneeling victim. He heard the soft dull thump of its head hitting the ground and felt the cool splatter across his face and he knew he was now freckled with blood. Elrohir sheathed Hyandënóla and turned intent on going off to find his twin. He need not have bothered though as Elladan stood not two hundred yards away regarding him worriedly.

Elrohir bit back a sigh, Elladan was always worried and he really didn’t have time for it, not this night. They had decimated this small troupe of yrch that they had unwittingly stumbled upon whilst scouting out a place to camp for the night. Elrohir looked about him dispassionately – too bad – this clearing would have been ideal for a camp. However Elrohir knew he would not want to stop now, he would not be able to. His blood was singing, singing and rejoicing at the death of the yrch – and he wanted more – he needed more. He had to avenge her and he was sure there would be more of the din-horde nesting in the caves and dark places all around this area in the foothills of the Misty Mountains.

The problem would be in convincing Elladan, in convincing him to let them carry on the hunt. Elladan would say that that was enough for today, that they should rest, that they should –

Elrohir’s musings were cut short when Elladan spoke.

“That was not good Elro.” Elladan spoke softly and sounded hesitant as if he were trying not to spook Elrohir.

Elrohir grit his teeth for the umpteenth time that night. He knew where Elladan was going with this. It was an argument they were having more and more lately and tonight he really could not be bothered with it. He just wanted to find another pack of orcs to sink his blades into. Elrohir refused to look at Elladan and instead grabbed onto the nearest orc corpse and heaved it over to one side of the clearing – there was no need after all to leave the entire clearing tainted by the remains of the Dark One’s helpers – the sooner they started the grim task of burning the orc bodies the better.

“Elrohir!” Elladan’s voice was sharp.

Mentally sighing Elrohir dropped the corpse he’d been dragging and turned to look at his brother.

“What was not good Elladan?”

“You know of what I speak Elrohir –do not play games. I do not like this vengeful streak you show - it does not suit you. Just kill them cleanly and do not toy with them so Elro it-”

“Stop it Elladan I don’t want to hear it this night. Help me do this and speak no more of this vengeful streak you see in me. Your speeches weary me.” Elrohir bent back to his task unable to keep looking at his twin and the hurt he could see reflected in his eyes.
Elladan grabbed a body near him and began to heave it over to the small pile Elrohir had begun creating. He tried again “I know you do not want to hear it Elro but it worries me this drive and thirst for killing yrch and for revenge. Where does it come from?”
Elladan’s words had been spoken gently and calmly but Elrohir saw red.

“Where does it come from?” he barked, “Where does it come from? Have you forgotten Elladan the reason why Naneth is on the other side of the Sundering Seas rather than at home right now? Have you forgotten her suffering at their hands?” Elrohir was shaking with barely suppressed raged as he continued “Well I have not forgotten Elladan nor will I ever, and I will avenge her!”

“Elro you know that is not-”

“Hush Elladan be still – listen.”

“But Elro-”

“Shhh – listen” Elrohir hissed and Elladan realised that he was no longer arguing with him but listening to something else.

A small cold smile spread across Elrohir’s face after a few moments of listening intently. “More come Elladan, the yrch, more are coming.”

Elrohir watched as Elladan cocked his head to the side listening before he straightened again, “Yes they come” His twin sounded resigned.

But Elrohir was not really listening, by now he was concealing himself in a bush near the entrance to the clearing and watched as Elladan did the same on the opposite side, the orcs would not know what had hit them when they sprang their practised ambush manoeuvre.

Finally, thought Elrohir as he slipped his twin knives out of their sheaths wincing only slightly at the sting the cut in his arm gave at the move. Finally he would soon be let loose on another pack of yrch.

Finally he would be able to take yet another step towards avenging his departed mother.

Yes, he thought as their guttural voices got closer, vengeance will be mine.
Chapter end notes:
Hyandënóla – (Quenya) Literally: I cleave heads; head cleaver Elrohir’s broad sword

Lul Gijak-ishi – (Black Speech) Literally: Flowers in the blood – an Orcish insult for Elves

Glamhoth – din horde; yelling horde- Sindarin for Orcs

Yrch – plural of orch – Sindarin for Orcs

Naneth - Mother