[Durelin]

The elves became aware of the purpose of the troop they followed suddenly, and it brought to them a new pressure, and more decisions to be made. A small group of Lorien elves were obviously making their way to Mirkwood. Their reason was something to discover, and it worried Targil that this could be yet another part to the larger situation. Why would a small party of elves risk the venture to Mirkwood? Their risk might have seemed necessary, but no longer. The orcs easily came upon them and overcame them.

Targil barely acknowledged Calenvása as his Captain crouched beside him. The scene before his eyes would not allow them to tear away long enough to glance at the elf beside him. But he knew what he would see. A face full of grief and fear, the elf frantically searching his mind for reason and finding it out of reach. He knew that Calenvása was in anguish, for the elf was intelligent enough to know that nothing could be done. What Targil hoped was that his Captain realized that something could be done soon. Without looking at Calenvása, he placed a hand on the elf’s shoulder. The shoulder tensed up in his grip, and both elves tore their eyes away long enough to look into each others. Targil was shocked by the hatred that boiled in the eyes of the Captain. Those eyes did not shine with tears, nor did the face act as a window to a soul torn with grief. Lines of worry were barely seen, as the fury overcame all.

Targil spoke softly to Calenvása. “Save your rage. We will fight, but not today.”

“We wait? And they wait? Somehow I doubt they will keep their end of the bargain.”

“It is most likely that they will return to the camp with the prisoners, and the army will be moving soon, as well. If we make our move, it will be crushed. Our brethren are kept as prisoners, for now, but – ”

“My brothers…under the hand of those creatures of the Enemy…and we do nothing?”

“We must save all of Lorien, Calenvása! There is a greater need before us, that calls for all of our attention.”

Calenvása stared at Targil strangely, all of his rage gone for a fleeting moment, as the circumstances at hand was momentarily forgotten. The elf had never used his Captain’s name before, and he understood the shock in the elf’s eyes. It was not an angry shock, Targil knew, but he felt strange, himself. Calling his Captain by his name a personal thing…friendly. A friend trusted, but Calenvása was not worthy of his trust, and he never would be. Trust is earned. And he has done nothing to earn it. His mind came up with this reasoning to end any confusion, but it only spurred more thoughts, more uncertainty. Targil turned away from his Captain. He continued the conversation, hoping to keep Calenvása from making anything of Targil’s slip. “They will not want the prisoners in the way during the attack. Prisoners are taken back to the fortress, always…” he was rambling, and he knew it. Calenvása ignored him, knowing already all that the elf said.

“We will save all of Lorien, Targil. All of Lorien.”