Illeandir slipped through the inn door. He flinched when a great stench filled his nostrils.

"What is that smell?" he exclaimed.

"Tha' would be these filthy beasts here," Thrilo said pointing to the four men lying on the ground. Two were unconscious. Illeandir considered going outside again, but Agreth touched his arm.

"Please, help my husband," she begged. Illeandir glanced over at Hagril where he lay on a table. The man was still bleeding.

"Derik, boil some water and bring me a needle and thread," Illeandir ordered. Derik disappeared behind a back door.

Hagril's leg was so swollen it would be impossible to remove his pants so Illeandir ripped the hole wider so he could see it clearly. He wiped away most of the blood and carefully inspected the gash. Hagril groaned each time Illeandir prodded it.

"Thrilo," he said.

"Wha'?"

"See if you can find some strong wine."

"Wha' do ya want tha' fer? Drinkin'?"

Illeandir glared at the dwarf.

"No. I need to clean the wound and wine works better than beer or ale."

Thrilo hustled off in search of the wine. Illeandir stepped back from Hagril.

"I can't do any more until they get back."

Agreth muffled a sob.

"He's lucky they didn't hit an artery, but he will have a limp for the rest of his life."

Agreth nodded. Her hand covered her mouth and her eyes shone with tears. She stroked her husband's face lovingly.

Derik burst in bearing a heavy pot filled with steaming water. Moments later Thrilo came. Illeandir took a clean rag, dipped it in the hot water, and cleaned the blood away. Agreth spoke to her husband in low tones while Illeandir worked silently. He finished and splashed wine over the wound. Hagril yelled and arched his back but quickly fell silent again.

The wine was immensely strong. It filled whole room with the bitter smell of alcohol and sweet, fermented berries. Illeandir coughed once, his eyes stung.

He quickly stitched the wound closed, minimizing the chance of a large scar with tiny weaves. By then Hagril slept soundly. Illeandir washed the blood from his hands.

"Carry him upstairs to one of the rooms and make sure he rests. Call me up if something's not right."

Derik gingerly carried the man up a flight of stairs. Agreth followed him, clutching Hagril's hand. Thrilo stayed with Illeandir. He took a sip of the wine and spat it out with a grimace.

"It be sourer than me Gran on 'er death bed. She was a mean woman." He stoppered the bottle and set it on the table.

"So," he smacked his lips trying to rid himself of the taste, "How we ge'in' the lady back?"

"I'm going to bargain with their leader. Four of his men for Ithilwen."

"An' of they don't want to trade?"

Illeandir shrugged his shoulders.

"I'll have to kill them."

"All of 'em?"

"No. Just enough to convince them keeping her is not worth it."

Thrilo puffed out his cheeks and sighed.

"A'righ', I ain't got a be'er plan. When do we go?"

"I need you to stay behind and watch the captives."

"Bu-"

"Thrilo, please. You're the only one I trust. Derik is a good man, but he's prone to act on a whim. I'd rather return these men back alive and whole."

"A'righ'," Thrilo said mournfully.

"Thank you."

The dwarf moped until Illeandir gave him a playful shove, grinning. Thrilo batted him away and smiled toothily.

"Yer hard to stay mad at, elf."

"I try. Take care of the prisoners," Illeandir said and slipped out the door.

He breathed in the fresh air, thick with tension. He pulled up his hood and mask and made his way silently toward the group of bandits. The closer he got the more anger built inside him.

A ring of men surrounded Ithilwen, shoving her from one man to the next. She fought them with all her strength but it was not enough. She was tossed around like a rag in the wind. The men were rocks, beating, torturing, and harassing her to no end. Tears streamed down her faced, mixed with blood. She cried as she screamed for them to stop and for help.

Illeandir nocked an arrow and pulled back. His shoulder screamed in pain as he pulled on the limbs. He tried to steady his arm, but it trembled. He took a deep breath and gritted his teeth. Little by little the shaking lessened until he could aim his arrow firmly on the shoulder of a black-bearded man. Just as he released his arm gave out, throwing his shot wide. The arrow slammed into the leg of a man three people to the right.

Chaos ensued as the men frantically searched for the archer. They looked to where the arrow had come from, but Illeandir had dropped behind a barrel cursing his lame arm. The unfortunate man, having taken an arrow to the thigh, lay sprawled on the ground screaming.

"Show yourself, archer!" their leader shouted. The men calmed down at the sound of their leader's voice. Illeandir didn't move.

Ilthilwen lay on the ground just a few paces away from the man who had been shot. A grey shafted arrow with a hand-forged iron tip and silvery fletching protruded from both sides of the man's leg. She instantly recognized it as Illeandir's and very nearly shouted his name in relief. She scanned the area, looking desperately for Illeandir, but did not see him anywhere. The men were growing agitated again.

"Show yourself, coward!"

"Tell your men to stand down. Then I shall come forth," Illeandir called from behind the barrel.

"Stand down," the leader ordered. The men lowered their swords and daggers. "Come out."

Illeandir came out with his hands empty at his side. His bow was strapped to his back again next to a quiver bristling with arrows. An empty scabbard hung at his hip.

"Afternoon, gentlemen," Illeandir said loudly, "There seems to be a misunderstanding. This village is not for you."

"What are you doing?" Ithilwen whispered. Illeandir didn't so much as glance at her. He kept his eyes on the leader.

"I don't think so. What is your name, archer?"

"Most know me by Elstan," Illeandir said as he continued forward.

"Tell me, Elstan, why are you here?"

"I've come to bargain."

Laughter met his statement and Ithilwen suddenly felt ill.

"What have you to bargain, Elstan? I see nothing but your own pelt."

"A pity that's not for sale. No, five of your men are missing. One, unfortunately, took his own life in an alley. But the other four are quite alive. I can give them back to you."

"For what?"

Illeandir looked directly at Ithilwen.

"Her."

More laughter. The world spun around Ithilwen. Tears fell silently from her eyes. Illeandir let the laughter float over him, solid as a rock with a half smile on his face. The laughter died down and still he did not move.

"I think not," the leader, Curod, said. "You see, this girl is no ordinary girl." Curod grabbed Ithilwen by the hair and yanked her head back, revealing her pointed ears. Ithilwen cried out in pain. The grin disappeared from Illeandir's face.

"I've heard tales of women like her. Elves. Dangerous, beautiful, I thought they were all gone. She's worth at least twenty men maybe more."

Illeandir stared at him for a long while.

"Very well," he said. Quicker than a snake he drew a knife and threw the blade into Curod's upper arm. A sickening thud followed by a piercing scream made Curod's men flinch. Curod dropped Ithilwen. Illeandir dove forward and caught her before she hit the ground.

"A little girl. They have a little girl!" she exclaimed hysterically.

"Where is the little girl?" Illeandir demanded. He found himself facing a wall of sharpened steel.

"Curod, what do we do with him?"

"Kill him!" Curod shouted, still writhing in pain.

"Curod, that blade is poisoned. You kill me, you die in three hours unless I give you the antidote."

Curod froze. Steely blue eyes bored holes in Illeandir. Illeandir could clearly see desperation in his eyes.

"How do I know you're not lying?" he demanded.

"You won't until the poison has run its course and you're lying on the ground wishing death would take you. By then it will be too late. The cure must be delivered within the hour or certain death follows."

"Give it to me! Give it to me!"

"I will give it and your men to you if you promise to let her and the child go."

"Yes, yes!" Curod's voice rose in pitch. Illeandir took his knife from the hand of one of Curod's men and ran back to the inn.

"Thrilo!" he shouted as he slammed the door open. The dwarf fell off his chair in surprise.

"Argh! Wha'd ya do now?" he shouted and picked himself off the floor.

"Hurry, bring the prisoners," Illeandir said as he pulled two of the men to their feet. He slashed the ropes binding their legs. Thrilo shook the other two awake. The blond haired one stumbled to his feet and promptly fell over again. Thrilo chuckled to himself before his face twisted into a grim frown, stony and fierce.

"Get up before I drag ya outta 'ere by yer pretty locks."

The man paled and staggered to his feet. He swayed dangerously. The other had gotten to his feet with little trouble.

"Where's Derik?" Illeandir asked. Thrilo pointed at the ceiling.

"Derik!" Illeandir shouted. Nothing. "Nevermind then, let's go." He shoved the four bandits out the door. One tried to sprint but Illeandir knocked his feet from under him. The man fell flat on his face and groaned. Illeandir picked him up by the back of his shirt.

"Don't try that again," he hissed and dropped the man. "Move."

Illeandir and Thrilo prodded the captives toward the bandits and stopped twenty paces away.

"Curod!" Illeandir shouted. "Bring me the woman and the child."

"Do you have the cure?" Vurod sounded frightened. Illeandir snorted.

"I have your cure and your men, theif. Come and claim them."

Several of Curod's men stepped forward to take their comrades.

"No, only Curod. I want him to bring what belongs to me and I will give him what is his."

Minutes passed. Illeandir shifted his weight. His patience was wearing thin. Thrilo muttered anxiously under his breath. At last the men parted and Curod stepped hesitantly through followed by Ithilwen. She was limping heavily and carrying a small girl in her arms. Her hair was matted with dried blood. Illeandir clenched his fist around his dagger.

Curod stopped halfway between Illeandir and the safety of his men. Illeandir and Thrilo walked their prisoners over to him. They stopped, face to face with Curod, and cut his men free. The four men ran as if chased by bloodhounds and disappeared into the company.

"Where's the cure?" Curod demanded.

"You will leave Gondor and stop raiding villages."

"Yes, yes anything you ask!"

"Good, in that case, go back to your men."

Confusion clouded Curod's weathered face.

"The blade was never poisoned," Illeandir said. Anger turned Curod's face bright red. He tried to attack Illeandir but a stinging blow to his face stopped him.

"You're outnumbered, Curod, you'd be dead before your men get here," Illeandir said. "Now get out of my sight. I've had enough of your kind for a thousand lifetimes."

Curod glared long and hard at Illeandir.

"You're a cruel man."

Illeandir said nothing and Curod continued.

"Mark my words, Elstan, I will repay you for what you have done. I know not who you are, but one day I will kill you." Curod spat on Illeandir's hand and stalked away. Illeandir wiped his hand off and waited until the bandits began to move north, back the way they came.

When the last one had left the town he turned to Ithilwen. She was trembling, trying desperately to hold back her tears. Illeandir took the child from her arms.

"Take the child to the inn. We will return her to her parents in the morning."

Thrilo took the girl, who latched onto him like a spider to its prey. Illeandir grimaced at the thought. He never had liked spiders.

Ithilwen sniffed beside him and wiped tears from her eyes. Illeandir brushed a bloody strand of hair from her face.

"Hey, you're all right now," he said, "No one's going to hurt you anymore."

"Promise?" Ithilwen looked up at him with wide watery eyes. Illeandir smiled gently and brushed her wet cheek.

"I promise," he whispered. Ithilwen clutched his shirt and buried her face in his chest, sobbing.

"I hate them," she shouted. Illeandir wrapped his arms around her, shielding her from the world. She was so small and frail in his arms. "I hate them," she whispered.

"I know," Illeandir said, "I know."

"Why are they so cruel?"

"Lust and greed do terrible things to a person's soul, things that hurt others. But know this," Illeandir lifted her chin until she looked him in the eye, "they hurt too. More than we think. They hurt you because they think that, if everyone else suffers then their suffering does not seem so great."

Ithilwen nodded and rested her head against his chest.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"Don't be. I will always protect you."

Ithilwen started laughing and Illeandir frowned. Her laughter quickly turned into crying again.

"Okay," Illeandir said, slightly worried, "Let's get you inside and cleaned up."

Ithilwen nodded and took a step back. She cried out in pain when she put her weight on her injured ankle. Illeandir caught her and cradled her like a newborn child and began walking back to the inn.

Ithilwen rested her head against him and listened to her heart beat strong and steadily. She felt so small and began to realize just how big Illeandir was compared to men and other ellons she once knew. Yet, she felt safe tucked against him. Safe and warm, more so than she had in the last few centuries.

Illeandir ducked through the inn door, his shoulders scraping the frame. Thrilo was sitting at a table playing with the little girl. Her hair had been tied back in a poorly constructed braid held together with a dirty red ribbon but she was smiling and chatting aimably.

"How is she?" Thrilo asked looking at Ithilwen.

"Hurt, scared, a little confused. Where's Derik?"

"Here," Derik said coming out of the kitchen. "What d'ya need?"

"Water, scissors, needle and thread, and bandages."

"All right. I'll bring them up." Derik disappeared into the kitchen again. Illeandir carried Ithilwen up the stairs. By the time he reached his room his shoulder ached and he was limping. Ithilwen must have noticed because she tried to slip out of his grasp, but refused to let her.

"Illeandir, you're hurting yourself," she said.

"I'm fine," Illeandir replied as he pushed the door open. He set Ithilwen on the bed and rummaged through their things looking for a brush. He had seen Ithilwen using one earlier.

"Other bag," Ithilwen told him. Illeandir checked the other bag and found the white bone brush immediately. He didn't question how she knew what he was looking for, just accepted it. He combed the blood from her hair. Derik brought up the items he'd requested and left soon after.

Illeandir made Ithilwen leaned back and soak her hair in the warm water to wash the rest of the blood away while he clipped the hairs close to the gash on her head away. He gently spread a white salve over the cut, making sure he didn't bring her anymore pain. After a few minutes he washed the salve away and began stitching the wound closed. He told her about the years he'd spent in Mirkwood with his mentor, Cúnor, to keep her distracted. They passed a quarter of an hour that way.

"There. Finished," Illeandir said as he cut the thread. Ithilwen reached up and touched the stitches on his cheek.

"Those are ready to come out," she said. Illeandir took her hand in his.

"It can wait. You need to rest for now." Illeandir helped her onto the bed and covered her.

"Will you stay?" Ithilwen asked, her eyes were already closing.

"Of course," Illeandir said. Ithilwen smiled and closed her eyes. Illeandir sat by her side, watching.

******************************

Nice happy sweet moment before it all goes downhill again.

Okay, I'm going to be honest here, when Illeandir's shot went wild I considered for a second having it hit Ithilwen and kill her.

Wouldn't that have been fun?

But, I decided that it wasn't the right time or place to break Illeandir. That comes later. And I like Ithilwen.

I had to finish this on the computer because my phone was confiscated so my siblings and my cousin could play a game. I'm used to using my phone so this feels weird and my space bar keeps sticking...

SPACE BAR IS SO FREAKING ANNOYING!

It won't stop sticking and is driving me nuts but I must write.

HAS ANYBODY SEEN THE NEW PIRATES OF THE CARIBBEAN: DEAD MEN TELL NO TALES?

I saw Will! I saw Will in it and I completly flipped out. I mean, he looked a little decayed and fish-like but it was definitely Will Turner and I fangirled so hard I scared myself.

Ah crap, I just put a gender on myself. That was supposed to be a secret!

Not a very well kept one though... *stares at girl tendencies*

Anyway, so I freaked out, scared myself and my brother, and that's basically the end. I am so excited for all the awesome movies coming out this year and can't wait to die! Because that's what these kinds of movies do. They kill me inside.

Stupid emotions.