An Ode for Cruelty

Eomer held fast at the head of his troop of loyal Riders. His jaw was clenched, his eyes hard set, as he replayed in his mind every moment with the Elf-maiden. The conviction of her features as she pressed forward, naught but a dagger in hand, while surrounded by potential enemies was, on it's own, stunning. To be so beautiful and so brave was an attribute that few women could possess. Eomer touched his throat, a small scratch marring the surface of the skin. The anger that flared in her when he addressed that other Elf had held a heat hotter than any bonfire he'd been near. And yet she retained such control over herself, giving only a warning. A Queen, her friend had called her. In beauty and skill, definitely. Eomer raised his arm, signalling his men to slow to a stop.
"We camp here tonight," His voice was wearied, full of malcontent.
As the Riders' set up their camp, he looked back in the direction they had ridden from. The smoke that was the remains of the foes from the night before still carved a visible pillar upward, marring the otherwise clear evening sky. She was there at the moment. Searching for friends that might have died on his spear. Eomer let loose a darkened, melancholic chuckle. On what Earth would that amazing woman ever come to adore him?

Faelwen clamored down from the back of Hasufel, paying no attention to her surroundings as she rushed toward the heap of still smouldering corpses. She barely heard Gimli's heavy stomps, or Aragorn's rushed and thudding footfalls. She barely even heard the light pattering of Legolas' feet as he hurried over to scene, eager to find some sign that the Hobbits were alive.
Faelwen dropped to her knees beside the mountainous pile, and with her eyes shut tight, began breathing out whispers of another spell. The smoke bent in the air, traveling straight into Faelwen's nose and mouth rather than upward. Beside her, Gimli rummaged about, using his axe to lever away the fragments of flesh that he would rather not touch.
He choked out a pained sob, picking up a burned sheath and holding it out for the others to see, "It's one of their wee belts..."
Legolas muttered quietly, touching his hand to his lips, "Hiro hyn hidh ab 'wanath." (Let them find peace after death)
Aragorn breathed heavily, clenching and unclenching his teeth. He'd worked so hard, pushed so far, for nothing. He let out his frustration on a nearby helmet, clearly of Orcish make, kicking it as hard as he could into the nearby trees as he growled out his pent up energy.
Gimli whispered, unusually quiet for the Dwarf, as Aragorn sunk to his knees, "We failed them."
Faelwen, caught up in the spell, continued to inhale the pungent fumes. Her eyes shot open, smoke poured back out of her mouth as she spoke.
"Hyn al'idh si," Her voice soft and smooth; almost as velvet as the smoke that once again poured into the sky. None-the-less, it didn't escape Legolas' ears. (They don't rest here)
The blonde Elf looked at her, shock and confusion in his eyes. She smiled slowly, her pointed teeth now somehow a symbol of comfort, "They aren't here."

A thick crunching broke the two Elves clear of each other, both now looking to the source of the noise. Gimli had walked his way over to Aragorn, who kneeled, moving about the grass with his hands, a perceptive look in his eyes.
"A Hobbit lay here," He looked to the side, shifting slightly, "And the other."
The Elves walked up behind their friend as he began to move across the trampled ground, "They crawled. Their hands were bound."
Faelwen bit her lip in apprehension, following Aragorn as he tracked the barely noticeable signs of the Hobbits actions with extreme precision, "Their bonds were cut."
He picked up and dropped a rope, rising completely to his feet and striding away, "They ran over here.," The next part was quieter as he moved faster, "They were followed."
He broke into a jog, "The tracks lead away from the battle!" He grew quiet again as he came to a sudden stop, his companions close behind him, "And into Fangorn Forest."
Gimli groaned out, "Fangorn? What madness drove them in there?"

Faelwen was the first to step forward. Drawing herself up to her full height, she strode forward, no sign of fear on her face. The men glanced between each other, exasperation on their features.
"I suppose we have to follow her then?" Legolas said, slightly amused.
Aragorn sighed, "And I thought it'd be the Dwarf that kept us from making strategies..."
Gimli gave a rumbling laugh, betraying his nervousness in its short-ness, "Everyone knows, you should never trust an Elf."
Faelwen's voice peeled back through the woods, "Are you lot coming? Or do I simply continue on my own?"
The three glanced between each other again, slowly stepping forward to follow after their clearly unconcerned friend.

The further into the Forest they moved, following the strange round tracks that Aragorn had found, the more nervous the three men became. Faelwen however felt nearly at home in the gnarled and twisted limbs of the anguished Forest. The trees around growled and groaned with every step they took, a warning that this was not at all a safe place; not even for the trees. She stood, leaning up against the harrowed bark, her ear pressed tightly against the trunk, just listening.
"The air is so close in here!" Gimli complained, Faelwen smirked.
Legolas stood nearby her, his brow furrowed with sadness, "This Forest is old. Very old. Filled with memory. And anger."
Gimli groaned somewhere behind them, raising his axe in a hurried move. The trees groaned loudly in response.
"The trees are speaking to each other!" Legolas said worriedly, as if he feared an attack.
Faelwen's voice rang like bells in the air, "You forget, Legolas, that not all Forest's are as well cared for as those belonging to Elves. These trees have suffered greatly in their years. I can feel their pain; their fear. Gimli, lower your axe."
The growling and groaning of the trees ceased; the tension in the air seemed to dissipate. The nerves of her friends, however, continued to shake.
Legolas jumped about, his voice turning stern, "Aragorn, nad no ennas!" (Something's out there)

Aragorn moved close to the blonde Elf and whispered quietly enough for the other Elf to not hear, "Man cenich?" (What do you see?)
Legolas, though, did not give the same courtesy. With apprehension and conviction in his eyes he stated, "The White Wizard approaches."
The Dwarf's head snapped round and he quickly hurried to a hiding place, axe raised, beside the Elf.
Aragorn whispered harshly with tension clear in his throat, silently drawing his sword, "Do not let him speak. He will put a spell on us."
Legolas notched an arrow and looked around to see where Faelwen had hidden herself. She was nowhere to be seen.