“The river! There!” He pulled his pony to stop. And it reared up skidding and dancing about. “Haldir?! Where are you? Amralime?” He bellowed our and dismounted. Pulling the sword off the horse and wrapping it in his cloak he headed towards a platform hidden in the trees. “It will be safest up there.”
Climbing up he peeked over the edge to sigh heavily as an arrow poked his nose.
Two elves stood upon the flet in the tree. They understand not what the dwarf spoke other than the name. One was quick to notch his arrow and meet it with the dwarf’s face as he climbed. He dare trespass in the forest and attempt to take rest in their trees? The two elves recognized him not.
“He speaks of Haldir as if he were a familiar,” the armed one spoke in elvish to the other. “It would be unwise to pursue him with them until they return,” the other answered. He glanced down seeing the other dwarf upon his pony. He made quick to drop and arm himself letting the dark haired dwarf know he was to surrender. It would be difficult to communicate for these elves knew no common tongue. The one in the tree looked down at Fili he took notice to the leaf that decorated his hair. It was a Lorien leaf. His eyes widened and he lowered his weapon. He gestured for the other to do the same. “These are no trespassers. This is the Faer Mate. He is Haldir’s.” He replaced his arrow in the quiver and his bow upon his back before outstretching a hand towards Fili. There was little they could say to them, but offer them a place of shelter until the Marchwarden’s return.
Hours passed before movement in the forest. It was dark now as the elves stood and looked out. One jumped down meeting with the others. Haldir stood at the head. He was dressed in his warden’s uniform. His cloak was torn and splattered with blood. “He has returned,” is all the elf said. Haldir’s eyes quickly darted to the platform in the tree where the other had come from. He nodded his head in respect to the other and made quick his pace towards the tree. He scaled it with little effort and came to stand upon it. The moonlight caught his hair making it gleam as he stood gazing down. “Amralime,” his voice seemed to sing the word. “Your unexpected arrival brings me great joy.” His words though fell off. There was something about them. Something that seemed off. He frowned, “You carry with you something. Something of with a great presence.”
KÍLI DIDN’T QUITE know what suprised him more -- the word uttered by his brother to this unknown person, or the weapon pointed at him just a few moments after that. A tall elf stood there, but there must have been another one present, for there were two voices speaking in elvish. The younger prince knew just few words in the Elfs’ tongue, and they weren’t sufficient to understand what they were saying.
However, when they saw what Fíli wore in his hair, their attitude shifted and Kíli’s confussion only grew bigger. The two elves escorted them to a safe place, and it was only then that the younger dwarf felt ready to ask -- “ Ye never spoke about yer amrâlimê. ” He said, dark eyes looking for the other. There wasn’t any judgement or disappointment. “ Thought ye’d tell me ‘bout it when it happened -- as I did. ” He was upset, yes, but it wasn’t said in bad faith.
Hours later, another elf joined them and it was then when Kíli fully understood his brother’s motives.
“ Aye, we found someth’n -- we hoped ye’d help us. ”
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