Title - Arms of Grace

Author - Jules AKA YunaDax

Rating - pg13 for strong violence, and serious angsting

Summary - When Celebrian is taken by orcs while journeying though the Redhorn Pass, her sons vow to keep her safe and to avenge those who hurt her.

Disclaimer - They do... I don't, the lyrics are from LifeHouse' album, No Name Face, the song is called Breathing.

Authors Notes - I'm sure its been done a million times before.. Elladan and Elrohir go and rescue their mother, but I felt I had to write something along those lines. Apologies if this is too similar to anyone elses, it is not intentional

Arms of Grace

I'm finding my way back to sanity again

Though I don't really know what I'm gonna do when I get there

Take a breath and hold on tight

Spin around one more time

and gracefully fall back to the arms of grace

Hoofbeats echoed through the night, dark shadows desperate and frantic in their effort to reclaim loved ones from the hands of evil. Dark hair streamed behind the dark riders, their helms doing little to hinder the flow of hair as the riders pushed their steeds to the limit, racing against time. Elladan nudged his horse a little faster, whispering urges to his mount as they thundered out of the valley toward the Redhorn Pass. A member of his mother's travelling party had staggered into Rivendell not three hours ago, numerous injuries taking their toll on the poor elf, enabling him to mutter a few scant words about Celebrian, orcs, and RedHorn before promptly passing out in the cobblestone courtyard. Alas the alarm was raised and before Elrond could even muster weapons himself his twin sons were armed and out in the stables, mounting their swift faithful steeds and riding out across the stone bridge. It would be many hours hard ride to Redhorn Pass, and both twins knew that to ride at speed would almost be as perilous as facing the orcs themselves. Time passed agonisingly slowly for both elves, the knowledge in their hearts that their mother had been taken by the foul creatures of Mordor almost too much for the elvish hearts to handle. Elrohir's steed slipped on the dark dewy ground, causing the dark elf to cling like a vise to the horses' back to prevent being flung over the animals' head.

" Elladan! We must slow down, the horses cannot keep up this speed, it is too dangerous!" The younger twin called, his voice slightly quivering at the near miss.

" Every second we tarry is another second the orcs have Mother!" Elladan called harshly back, his fear causing his words to sting more than he intended.

" We are not use to her if we die trying to get there!" Elrohir shouted back, his own emotions too close to the surface for much rational thinking. Elladan reluctantly nodded, easing his horse back to a canter and allowing his steed to pick its own way through the forest about them. Hours later they stopped briefly to rest the horses, allowing them to drink a little from a swiftly flowing stream and catch their breath while the elves climbed the tallest tree they could find to scout for orc activity or any indication as to where their mother was. They saw little in the semi darkness as dawn slowly broke, grey shadows drifting in and out of the keen elvish eyesight, blurs and indistinct objects marking the landscape, eluding to nothing and everything. The twins climbed down from the trees, mounted their steeds and set off again, their speed increasing as daylight took hold and dried the dew from the paths before them.

After many hours of tireless riding Redhorn pass loomed before them, great mountains rising on either side of the narrow passageway, a passage that would be perfect for an ambush. Slowing their horses the twins dismounted, allowing the animals to graze as they read the tracks on the ground, desperate for any clue the dusty imprints could give them. Shortly after Elladan called his brother over, stooping low to the ground to better read the footprints before him. The prints told of a struggle, a horse had fallen sideways, trapping the leg of its rider beneath it as it lay on the ground, snapping the long bones of the rider's leg in doing so. The horse rose and stood in front of its fallen rider, who appeared not to have moved, the animals hoofprints telling of it rearing and striking out at its foes, trying valiantly to protect its fallen master. Dark blood on the ground told of the horse losing the battle and fleeing, leaving the orcs to whatever elves were felled in the initial attack.

Standing Elladan followed the heavy bootprints of the orcs, his brother trailing behind him as they followed the marks out of the valley and around the side of a nearby mountain. Faint noises could be heard as they neared a cave, moans of pain, whimpers of regret, and cries of mercy. Ice froze over the hearts of the twins as they stood stock still near the entrance of the cave, their minds unwilling to believe it was their mother being tortured, but knowing in their hearts it was indeed her. Elladan drew his bow first, his brother also drawing his bow and reaching behind into his quiver for the first of many arrows he would fire that day. Together they fired, the lethal projectiles easily hitting their targets of the orcs guarding the entrance of the cave. Elladan's aim was slightly off in his grief, the arrow hitting the orc in the chest rather than the throat. The foul creature didn't live long, but had enough strength to send a glottal cry back into the cave. All hope of secrecy was lost as a steady stream of orcs rushed out to greet them, rudimentary swords and axes flailing in their anger at having two of their own cut down. Soon, the twins' supply of arrows dwindled, and Elrohir's groping hand felt nothing within his quiver. He tossed his long dark bow aside, taking note of where it landed so he could retrieve it later, and drew his sword. The steel of the curved blade glinting in the sun, attesting to the high level of craftsmanship and the care that the twin had devoted to his blade. They had both been trained in warfare and combat from a young age, learning much under the keen tutelage of Glorfindel and Elrond, but neither had ever fought when something so dear to them was at stake. Elrohir heard his brother drawing his sword and together they advanced, their blades before them weaving a deadly dance of skill and grace. Their movements swift and fluidic as they pressed forward, protecting each other's backs as they made their way toward the entrance of the cave, forcing the orcs back on the defensive.

The fight seemed to stretch into eternity, the twins acquiring numerous injuries as they dispatched orc after orc until finally no more poured forth from the cave mouth. Heedless of his own injuries Elladan forced himself onward on shaky legs, clutching his wounded arm to his chest as he plunged down the passageway, hearing his twin's unsteady footsteps behind him. A scream gave them direction and they took the nearest branch off the main tunnel, following the echoes of the voice until it led them to a small chamber. Elladan's heart went cold within his chest at the sight that confronted him. Before them, chained to the wall was their mother, her dress and bodice shredded and torn, blood staining the tatters that still clung to her pale body. Several orcs were still in the chamber, not having heard the battle raging on the outside, but Elladan's gasp of horror alerted them to his presence. Armed with chains, whips and other devices of torture they advanced, forcing Elladan and Elrohir to step into the small chamber or else be pinned in the poor excuse for a passageway.

As skilled and deadly as they were, the twins were distracted and exhausted, they had ridden hard to get to the Pass, battled more orcs than they could count before even entering the cave, and now faced another fight, with their semi-conscious mother chained to a wall in front of them. Elrohir gave a cry of pain as his thigh found itself wrapped harshly in an iron chain. The orc holding the other end squealed with glee, giving the chain a good yank and hauling the elf off his feet. Elladan used his brother's distraction to cause the orcs more harm, dispatching all but 2 in the time it took for Elrohir to untangle himself and rise again to his feet. Elladan glanced at his brother, noticing the large bleeding gash around his twins' lower thigh were the chain had caught him. A quick nod from Elrohir told him he would be fine and he turned his attention back to the orcs. The one with the chain was still standing, and attempting now to bring the older twin down in the same way he had brought Elrohir to his knees, while the other orc seemed to have a smirk within its horrible features.

The chain caught Elladan roughly on the side of the head, causing his vision to swin before the harsh links caught around his upper arm, jerking it roughly and causing him to drop his sword. Elrohir charged forward, lopping the offending orc's head from its body, but not before Elladan had toppled to the ground, his head reeling from the harsh blow. The one remaining orc backed in the direction of Celebrian, brandishing a large knife covered in a thick black substance. He reached his target quickly, holding the knife under the pale elf's throat as Elrohir made his way forward once more. The threat was clear, the foul creature would kill their mother before they could kill it. The younger twin stood as still as stone, grief and fear clouding his features as he fought with his mind as to the correct course of action. Elladan still hadn't moved behind him, and for once Elrohir wished for his older twins' guidance. The orc leered at him, pushing the blade upward so a trickle of blood made its way down Celebrians' neck, again staining the tattered colour of her bodice bright red. The sight of his mother in more pain was too much for Elrohir, and he hurled his blade forward, the sharp tip imbedding itself in the orc's chest before it could do any further harm. But the damage had already been done. By the time Elrohir staggered forward, the blood trickling from his' mother's neck had begun to turn black, a sure sign that the poison on the blade had worked its way into her bloodstream. His hands found the crude manacles on the wall, snapping the rough metal and catching his mother as she slumped to the ground. He gently laid her on the dark rough floor, checking her over for any internal injuries before briefly running over to Elladan. The entire side of his twin's face was a bloody swollen mess, attesting that the strike from the chain had not been a glancing blow. Gently Elrohir shook his brother's shoulder, urging him to wake and was greeted with a rather foul string of dwarvish curses erupting in a slurred stream from his twin's mouth. The elder twin's eyes were unfocused, but even in his concussed state the grey orbs were immediately drawn to the still figure behind Elrohir, fear lending his body strength as he struggled upright, shaking off his twins offer of support and making his way over to where Celebrian lay.

Elladan dropped to his knees beside her, not noticing how the rough stone of the cave floor bit into his skin and gently assessed her wounds, prayers to anyone who would listen running like a mantra through his mind.

" By the Valar, let her be alright, let us be able to save her"

I am hanging on every word you say

and even if you don't want to speak tonight

that's alright, alright with me

To Be Continued.

Title– Arms of Grace – Chapter 2 – Return to Rivendell

Author– Jules

Rating – PG -13

Summary – When Celebrian is taken by orcs while journeying though the Redhorn Pass, her sons vow to keep her safe and to avenge those who hurt her.

Disclaimer – They do… I don’t. The lyrics are from Lifehouse’s album No Name Face, the song is ‘Everything’

Author’s Notes – Again...angst and gore warning. You have been warned!

Return to Rivendell

Find me here, speak to me,

I want to feel you, I need to hear you,

You are the light that’s leading me,

To the place where I can find peace again.

You are the strength, that keeps me walking,

You are the hope, that keeps me trusting.

You are the life to my soul,

You are my purpose,

You are everything.

Elladan’s mind closed in on itself as his eyes took in the battered body before him. Numerous cuts and bruises adorned Celebrian’s torso, her pale dress in tatters and the hair reminiscent of the Lady Galadriel’s in a tangled blood soaked mess about her face. Salty tears snaked down the dark elf lord’s face, mingling with the blood oozing from the large gash that his cheek had become. He frantically tore strips of his cloak and began binding the worst of his mother’s injuries, stablising her broken ribs, splinting her fractured arm with his last arrow, praying the slender shaft would be strong enough for the task. Elrohir yanked at the ties of his own cloak, tearing the warm fabric from his body before carefully wrapping his mother in it. Elrohir carefully scooped the frail figure into his arms, forcing his mind to move past the moans of pain and began moving out of the cavern, waiting at the entrance for Elladan who was having difficulty moving on his own. The elder elf swayed as his balance wavered, forcing him to lean on the walls for support as they slowly made their way towards the entrance, Elladan’s free hand staying on the hilt of his sword in case he were forced to defend himself again.

It seemed an age before the brightness of day yawed in front of them, each rasping breath from Celebrian seeming like a lifetime as her body struggled to keep functioning. Elrohir let out a low whistle as they finally stumbled out of the cave, and was rewarded with two sets of galloping hoofbeats. Both horses skittered to a halt in front of their masters, twitching their tails to keep the insects from landing on their own wounds the orcs had inflicted before the animals could escape. A velvety nose descended and delicately sniffed the still form in Elrohir’s arms, whinnying softly as if to call the woman from her dreams. Elrohir looked around him and found a small cliff that would be perfect for mounting, with a quiet word to his mount he carefully picked his way forward, allowing his horse to stand below him while he mounted without disturbing his mother. A groan from behind him meant that Elladan had mounted also, and was slumped forward over his horses’ neck, his wounds finally catching up with him.

“ Elladan!” Elrohir called in alarm as he turned to see his brother in such a state. Elladan’s head raised slightly as his name was spoken and he forced his voice to respond.

“ Ride Elrohir! Ride like the wind! I will follow as best I can” He commanded, banishing any hesitations from his brother’s mind with the tone of his voice. He knew he couldn’t keep up with the speed required for Celebrian to reach Rivendell with any hope of living, and at the moment Elrohir was their only hope. He saw his twin about to protest, to make some remark about making it home together, but he cut off the reply with one of his own.

“ Not this time Elrohir, if Mother is to have any chance, you must ride alone. Go!” he spoke forcefully, gritting his teeth against the pain speaking caused him. He would make it home on his own, somehow.

“ I will come back for you brother” Elrohir answered softly as he nudged his mount forward, bearing his precious burden swiftly towards Rivendell.

The clatter of steel horseshoes on cobblestones awoke those who dwelt within the Last Homely House in the dead of night. Many could not sleep due to recent events and threw open the large wooden doors, hopeful that whoever was causing such a din would be the bearer of good tidings in this time of misfortune. Elrond was the first running down the staircase, his worry for his wife lending him almost unnatural speed as he flew towards the rapidly approaching horses. Asfaloth was panting heavily as he lead the guard, a contingent of seven horses in a protective formation, protecting something, or someone. The guards said little as the questions appeared on Elrond’s face, worry and apprehension carving deep groves in the already creased skin. Slowly the guards and horses parted, revealing that which they protected. Elrohir sat wearily on his mount, cradling something swathed in his own cloak.  Elrond made his way over, carefully accepting the burden as Elrohir handed it to him. His heart caught in his throat as he saw what his youngest had recovered, and then heart plummeted as he realized only one of his sons had returned.

“ Elladan?” he asked hesitatingly,  pausing to look Elrohir in the eyes. Why had only one of his sons returned?

“ He is wounded Ada, We have sent a guard to find him and aid him home, I must go. Look after Naneth” He whispered, as if afraid that now he had released his mother she would cease to live.  With that Elrohir turned his weary horse once more and headed back across the bridge, Glorfindel riding beside him.

 Elrond made his way carefully up the stairs of his home and headed straight to the healing rooms, his wife as still as death under the cover of the cloak she wore. The healer worked for many hours, splinting bones, stitching gashes and applying soothing ointments. One thing still concerned him though, the wound at the base of Celebrian’s neck still bled with a blackish tinge, no matter how often he flushed the wound. The orcs had poisoned her. Having done all he could presently for his wife he cleaned up and reclined in a nearby chair, wincing as his body sagged into the hard wood of the seat. His thoughts turned again to his eldest, still injured and alone in the woods.

Elladan’s head swam as his horse picked its way towards Rivendell, the relaxing rhythm doing nothing to ease the blurry vision nor the anvils crashing inside the elf’s skull. His mount knew he was injured, and so walked in a smooth gait, avoiding anything that would cause more pain to its rider. Time had ceased to become nothing but a blur of pain and nausea for the elder twin, his stomach was still churning even though he had lost what he had last eaten hours ago. How long his faithful mount had smoothly walked he did not know, until, despite all his horse had done, it stumbled, slipping on a moss covered rock and crashing onto its hocks, its front legs splayed out  in front to stop it from coming completely down. Elladan was thrown backward, completely unable to stop his fall and collided with the rocky path, the dull thump of his head connecting with the granite heard by all but his own ears as consciousness was robbed from him.

A frightened whinny echoed through the close valley, ricocheting off the clifftops and alerting Elrohir and Glorfindel that something was amiss. Asfaloth trumpeted his own reply, his flanks quivering as the loud whinny was issued.

“It must be Elladan” Elrohir muttered as his horse picked up its pace towards the origin of the first whinny. A short time later both riders were greeted with a sight neither wanted to witness. Elladan’s pale mare was desperately nuzzling her master, trying to rouse him from his slumber even as her own hocks streamed blood down her lower legs. Glorfindel dismounted immediately and ran to the elder twin, gently pushing the mare aside as he examined the dark elf. The entire side of Elladan’s face was a bleeding swollen mess, oozing already from what must be an infection. The dirty bleeding lump on his temple the reason he was unconscious. Elrohir joined the golden elf and peered with utmost concern at his brother.

“ Elrohir, quickly see to your brother’s horse, she cannot move far with hocks in that shape” Glorfindel ordered as he tried to rouse Elladan, but to no avail. Elrohir accepted the small medical kit from Glorfindel and quickly applied ointment and bandages to the mare’s bleeding legs, allowing them to lead her home without fear of the wounds becoming infected or seizing with swelling. Glorfindel had already applied some ointment to Elladan’s face but knew the elder twin’s injuries were far beyond his meager healing knowledge. He mounted Asfaloth and indicated Elorhir to pass his brother up to the blonde elf. The dark elf was still unconscious, his pale skin almost translucent in the silver light of the waning moon. Seeing the Elorhir had mounted his own horse they headed swiftly back toward Rivendell.

More clattering hooves woke Elrond from the slumber he had unwittingly drifted into. A quick check of Celebrian told him she was still unconscious, and showed no sign of waking soon. He groaned as his muscles complained, stiff from being cramped in the wooden chair moved, sharp twinges making themselves known as he forced his leaden feet toward the door. He discerned three sets of hoofbeats as he neared the entrance hall, meaning that Elorhir and Glorfindel had indeed found Elladan, or at the very least his horse. The large wooden doors were again thrown open as the house guard rushed towards the newcomers.

“ Bring the healers! Elladan is badly wounded” The blond elf commanded, easing the unconscious twin into a guards arms as he dismounted, glancing back to see Elrohir being aided off his own horse. Elves assigned to the stables appeared and lead the sweaty horses away to be cooled off and stabled, earning many a reward for their hard efforts.

Elrond leant against the solid wooden door for support as the house guard bore his eldest toward him, while others assisted Elrohir in his efforts to stagger up the stairs. He turned quickly and motioned for the guards to follow him again to the healing wing, indicating the beds in which to lay his sons as they entered the large room.

Elorhir slumped backward as he was eased onto the soft bed, his energy utterly spent hours ago but still having fought onwards, critically weakening his body to the point of collapse. Unconsciousness swiftly claimed the younger twin as his mind finally gave in to his body, allowing him to slowly recover his strength.

Elladan moaned and shifted as his body was carefully lowered onto the linen sheets, awareness flirting with his mind but never allowing him to fully awaken. Elrond peered closely at the oozing mess that had become the side of his sons face and palled at the pain his eldest would have been in. The white of cracked bone could be glimpsed in several places, and oozing fluid could be found in others, attesting to the infection that was rapidly setting in. Being as careful as possible the healer probed the bone for further fractures and breaks and was somewhat pleased that he only found one. Stiffly Elrond rose and prepared a poultice to draw out the infection and aid in the recover of the smashed tissue and applied it gently to his sons face, applying a little also to the hard swollen lump had had claimed his son from the waking world to begin with. Just as he was finishing, Elladan stirred again, this time almost becoming lucid as the pain of his injuries forced his mind awake. A sedative draught was quickly prepared and given to the groggy elf, forcing his body to relax and recover as his mind surrendered again to the darkness.

Finally leaving Elladan, Elrond moved to his youngest, quickly binding his son’s leg wound and cleaning up his other cuts and bruises before returning to his vigil beside his wife. A comfortable chair had been brought in sometime while he was tending to his sons and he gratefully sank into it, sighing as his stiff muscles relaxed into the yielding fabric. He carefully took the pale hand of his wife’s between his own and simply held the cool flesh, warming it with his own as he savoured the only bond he could share with her. He would fight for her, he would die for her, but now he could nothing but wait. It tortured his mind, gnawing away at his thoughts until weariness stole his thoughts from him completely.  He drifted, exhausting from days of worrying and hours of healing finally catching up with the elf lord and forcing his mind to rest.

How can I stand here with you, and not be moved by you?

Would you tell me how could it be, any better than this?

You calm the storms, you give me rest

You hold me in your hands, you won’t let me fall.

You still my heart, and you take my breath away.

Won’t you take me in? Take me deeper now.

Cause you’re all I want, all I need,

You’re everything,

Everything.

To Be Continued.