[Manelwen]

Keldin settled himself on the horse, his newest steed that had been personnally trained by Glorfindel. It was a fine horse and very tempermental, it snorted and tossed its head, waiting for Keldin to give it the word. "Noro Lim." he growled, nudging th horse slightly with the heel of his boot.

The horse took off down the main road of Rivendell, faster than he had expected. He leaned low against the horse's mane and watched the scenery go by, looking around the trees to see if there were any yrch. Pulling his massive bow out, he unfolded it, while the horse still ran and stringed it quickly. Notching the arrow, he waited, sitting up as the horse galloped swiftly down the deer trail, and closer to the orc's base. He had to get to her, he had to kill her before she took Elrond's life.

He could never forgive himself if she killed the great lord of Imladris. It was his fault her child was killed. He threw that lance long ago that smote down the young child, his own nephew and his brother's flesh and blood. He drove her into Mordor, made her become that evil and so determined to destroy the elfin race. The race of the Noldor was already in shambles, his family was anhilated during the last war, the remnants of a once proud race now scattered to the four winds, and he partly blamed himself for it. If Siluialwen was still there...if that was really her...then what was he going to do? Finish the job that he had failed to finish three millenia ago?

He met the river and followed it up, going farther away from the noise of war, and then passed the river at the farthest distance that he could. The horse snorted and backed away from the bank, obviously, someone had already known he was coming. Abandoning the horse mid-stream, he lifted the bow and arrow over his head and quickly ran to shore. His eyes narrowed as they fixed themselves on an unsuspecting wolf-rider. Bringing out the Linna-Gur, he set the arrow to the string and pulled back, the strain of the ancient bow was still there, it hadn't softened in time. Carefully he let the arrow go, it screamed and the wolf yipped and cried, throwing off its rider. The orc cursed as the arrow entered his breast, he died there, tainting the mud of the shores of Bruined with his disgusting blood. Keldin brought out another arrow, a normal one and shot down the wolf that was still howling and shaking its head.

Keldin lowered his bow and ran through the forests on the other side. Carefully, he listened to the sounds of the forests, no birds chirped in the skies but the winds that rustled the leaves of the trees spoke of the death that was to come.