The sky was just beginning to darken when Illeandir heard footsteps. Holding a hand out he motioned for Thrilo to stop. The dwarf froze, holding his breath as Illeandir swung himself silently into a nearby tree. Thrilo watched in fascination as the elf nearly flew up the trees, which seemed to shift ever so slightly to give him better footing.

Up high in the tree Illeandir scanned the forest. A flicker of motion caught his eye. Without moving his head he tracked the motion with his eyes. Here and there he caught a flash of movement heading along the river, parallel to his position. Slowly he lowered himself into the ground again, cringing each time he was forced to use his right arm.

Thrilo watched him with wide eyes. Illeandir brought a finger to his lips and pointed toward the river. Thrilo nodded and gripped his axe, a savage grin split his face. Illeandir made a calming gesture with his hands and the dwarf lowered his weapon.

"Stay," Illeandir whispered and slipped silently between the trees. As he walked he strung his bow and loosely fitted an arrow. He hoped he could still draw it with his arm. If not, he would be in a world of trouble.

He froze when a twig snapped up ahead of him. For several moments nothing moved save the leaves above and the birds. Slowly Illeandir began to move again. Placing one foot in front of the other as he closed in. Through the trees he could see a tall lithe form bearing several heavy sacks slung over their shoulders. He wasn't twenty feet away when they suddenly stopped and spun around. He froze and did not move but a grin threatened on his face.

Ithilwen scanned the trees around her frantically. She could feel a precense watching her but she could not see them. She turned around and busied herself with picking up the fallen satchels. A moments later a shadow fell across her. She spun around, aiming to hit whoever was behind her but she found her hand trapped by a much larger one. She looked up into leaf green eyes and gasped.

"You made it!"

Illeandir smiled, "Of course I did." Ithilwen let her bags fall and immediately began examining him. Illeandir fended her off. "Later," he said. Ithilwen crossed her arms.

"No."

"Yes. Thrilo is waiting for me," Illeandir said picking up two of the bags. Ithilwen noticed he avoided using his right arm but decided against saying anything.

"The dwarf?"

"Yes. Come." Illeandir didn't wait for her as he began walking away.

"Ellons," Ithilwen muttered to the treetops and followed him. Following him proved to be no easy task. Despite injuries, apparent in his limp and the blood soaked cloth around his leg, and the heavy baggage he carried he moved through the forest with an unearthly grace. As much as she tried Ithilwen could not copy. She had spent much of her life in Imladris and Minas Tirith helping to raise the new generation of Númenorean kings all the way from Aragorn to Eldarion and now Nara. Though she had not spent much time with Aragorn she had known him well. Eldarion was more of a brother, despite their differences, to her and Nara a friend. She felt a small pang of sadness for his loss but quickly surpressed it underneath a mountain of other feelings, like what she was going to do with Illeandir when they stopped. It would not be gentle. How she despised and admired the mercurial young woodland elf!

Ithilwen sighed in frustration as she yet again lost sight of him. She headed in the last direction she had seen him disappear and found him sitting next to the dwarf he had picked up on their way out of the citadel. He was searching through the bags for something. Thrilo looked on with interest and merely nodded when Ithilwen came into view. She set down her bag and motioned to Illeandir.

"Illeandir, Let me see your injuries," she said. Thrilo arched an eyebrow at the elf by his side. Illeandir shrugged.

"I have seen to them," was all he said. Ithilwen huffed and pointed to his leg, which was seeping fresh blood. The cut on his face was red and swollen.

"Tell me that looks like it has received proper attention." Illeandir looked at his leg as if seeing the wound for the first time. He suddenly looked pale and tired.

"Very well," he said setting the bag aside.

"Hannon le. Now don't move while I clean it. Will you start a fire?" she asked Thrilo. The dwarf got up in search of firewood. Ithilwen grabbed a small kit from her bag and removed the hastily tied on bandage from Illeandir's leg. She wrinkled her nose in disgust. The wound smelled foul but there was nothing more she could do until the dwarf had the fire going and she could boil some clean water so she wiped away the blood. Illeandir didn't watch her, instead he fiddled with his bowstring, which needed replacing.

When Ithilwen moved to inspect the gash on his cheek he took no more notice of her than when she had been inspecting his leg. For some reason she was disappointed he didn't look at her as he had when still in Minas Tirith. She would have liked to see his green eyes so close but he kept them downcast and focused on his weapon.

After a little too long so close to his face she inconspicuously reached down and squeezed his right shoulder. Illeandir hissed sharply and pulled away, glaring at her. Ithilwen held his gaze.

"Take your shirt off," she said. Illeandir opened his mouth to protest. "Now," she said firmly. He slowly removed his shirt, trying to avoid moving his injured shoulder. Ithilwen bit her tongue when she saw the extensive bruising extenting from his shoulder, down his ribcage, across his chest, and on his shoulder blade.

"What did you do?" she exclaimed softly. In as few words as possible Illeandir explained what had happened the night before. He finished just as Thrilo came back bearing and armful of wood. While he set about lighting the fire Ithilwen poked and prodded the muscles on Illeandir's shoulder. She earned several harsh glares when she touched a particularly sensitive spot. She ignored him, having earned worse than glares in her time spent as a healer.

"Fire's ready," Thrilo said.

"Will you fetch some water?" Ithilwen asked. Thrilo grumbled as she handed him a small pot produced from the contents of the bags.

"I'll go," Illeandir said beginning to stand. He was pushed back down by Ithilwen.

"No. You sit," she said. Illeandir and Thrilo shared a quick glance, Illeandir subdued, Thrilo annoyed. Ithilwen seemed not to notice.

The dwarf came back a few minutes later lugging the now full pot. Ithilwen took it from him and set it directly over the flames. While she waited for to boil she prepared a thick salve with several strong smelling leaves in a little water she'd set aside. Illeandir, bored, sat and tore a leaf to shreds and when the pieces became to small to tear he started on another one. By the time the water was boiling he had a small pile of leaf bits sitting in the dirt.

Ithilwen took a cloth and dipped in the water. She cleaned the cuts on Illeandir's leg and face carefully. She them applied a thick layer of the salve on his leg and bound it tightly with a clean bandage. Then took a bottle of a white cream and spread it across his cheek to numb it. The cut on his cheek was too deep to close on its own without scarring. While she waited for the cream to take effect she threaded a small needle with thin, strong silk thread.

"I'm going to sew this," she said, touching his cheek. "You'll feel a little tug but it shouldn't hurt." She was slightly surprised when he tilted his head to the side so she could easily stitch the wound. She was even more surprised when, instead of closing his eyes and tensing his face he relaxed completely and watched her as she closed the cut. She fused over it a while longer before Illeandir gently took her wrist and lowered her hand.

"It's fine. You're not going to ruin my face anymore than you already have."

Ithilwen playfully slapped his shoulder. He groaned and clutched his shoulder.

"Oh! Did I hurt you? I'm so sorry," she apologized. Illeandir's shoulders shook slightly and she realized she had been played. She slapped him harder and this time he really did double over in pain. She felt no remorse.

"You, sir, are trouble," she said.

"Me? You're the one that got me into this!" Illeandir exclaimed.

"You're the one that fell behind," Ithilwen said struggling to hold laughter back.

"That's because your horse went lame and fell into hole. Nearly killed us."

Thrilo cleared his throat and they quieted.

"You should apologize," Illeandir said.

"For what?" Ithilwen asked. Illeandir nodded toward the sullen dwarf.

"You hurt his feelings and you were rude," Illeandir said ignoring the stern look from Ithilwen.

"How was I rude?"

"You completely ignored him and when you did acknowledge him it was only to order him to fetch something."

"But he's a dwarf."

"So what? I'm an elf," Illeandir said pointedly. Ithilwen sighed.

"So am I."

"I know."

"By the Valar, you are the densest elf alive!"

"At least I'm alive," Illeandir said somberly. His gaze, so full of sorrow for one so young, broke Ithilwen's heart and she realized she was being ridiculous. She looked at Thrilo sitting forlornly on the other side of the fire.

"Thrilo," she said. Thrilo looked up with a scowl on his face. Ithilwen pushed down her hatred for dwarves. "I am sorry for how I treated you. It was wrong for me to judge you on the actions of your forebears. I was foolish. Will you accept my apology?"

Thrilo was silent for a while.

"I'd be foolish not to."

"Thank you," Ithilwen said sincerely. Thrilo smiled. "Will you allow me to treat your wounds?" Thrilo nodded and she examined him, far more gently than she had Illeandir. He saw this and rolled his eyes. Thrilo grinned wickedly underneath his bead.

"You are unharmed except for a large bruise on your leg that will heal with time."

"Thank you, m'lady."

"It was the least I could do."

Suddenly they heard the thundering of hundreds of feet. Illeandir jumped to his feet.

"Run!" he shouted. "They're coming from the south! Run!" In seconds the fire had been extinguished and their things thrown into bags and slung over their shoulders. Illeandir carried two of the packs while Ithilwen carried the other. Thrilo raced alongside them as fast as his shorter legs could carry him.

The baying of hounds could clearly be heard.

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Back so soon with another chapter?

Indeed I am!

Bye now.