The standard bearer (Elrond x oc)

8. Of Elves and Men

From nowhere an arrow felled the second-in-command. Its quivering flights a redemptive gold against the black. A horseman flashed in from the left, quickly followed by two others. Elven cavalry. The leader, tall and dark, faced the Orcs with his sword drawn while the others flanked him with bows taut and arrows notched.

The Captain reined his horse savagely, his henchmen milling behind him.

"I want the girl, Elf-Lord!" he snarled.

"You may not have her." The voice was soft and resonant, almost amused.

The Orc looked down the field. More reinforcements were on their way.

"Another time!" he spat, and wrenching his mount around, headed his ghastly band back towards their lines.

Gildinwen sank to her knees beside Tom, shuddering with relief. He gripped her hand, "It's alright. We're safe now!"

She wiped her face with the least soiled edge of her shirt, and managed a shaky smile.

"What are his injuries?" The dark-haired Elf had dismounted. He came over and knelt on one knee to examine Tom.

Gildinwen took a deep breath to steady herself. "He has a sword thrust to the right shoulder, and his left leg is broken."

He inspected the wound. "Is this your dressing?"

"Yes, my lord, it was the best I had available."

"It is good." He stood up smoothly and looked down at her. His gaze was very direct. "Are there other injured in your party?"

"Yes," she scrambled to her feet and led him over to where Will lay, very white and still. "He has had a bad blow to the skull."

"It is serious. I will instruct the healers to be vigilant."

The party of healers were quickly with them, and soon had Tom and Will securely strapped to stretchers.

Tom looked worried. "What're they going to do to me?" he whispered to her, "I mean, Elves....well they're strange."

"Don't worry Tom. You'll be safe with them," She glanced involuntarily at the Elf-Lord who gave a single nod, a small smile about his lips. "I promise."

"You'll come and see me?"

"Yes, of course. Go now."

She watched thoughtfully for a minute as the Elves gently carried her companions off the field, accompanied by the mounted archers. Then recollecting herself she turned to face her rescuer.

"Forgive me, my lord. My concern over my companions has led me to neglect my manners." She took a deep breath, and spoke formally in Sindarin, "I, Gildinwen of the House of Amarnon, do thank you for my life." She bowed deeply.

A smile of delighted amusement passed over his face, and he returned her bow, "I, Elrond the Peredhil, Master of Imladris and Herald to Lord Gil-galad, do bid you welcome."

Elrond Half-Elven! Gildinwen was suddenly terribly conscious of her dishevelled and blood-stained appearance. Great first impression Gil!

He was looking at her again. Discomfited, she used the excuse of retrieving her sword to break eye contact.

"Where is your horse?"

She looked around sadly. "I don't know. I think he must have run off." Poor Loreglin, he would have been terrified.

Elrond mounted neatly onto his horse, which had neither saddle nor bridle in the manner of the Elves, "Come. I will take you to Lord Gil-galad." He held out his hand for her. It was strong and fine - and very clean.