Elrohir was surprisingly unruffled, given his situation. Underneath his tactical, battle-ready mind, he knew that after the battle had ended, he would replay it in his mind, and remember how many times he came to within a breath of dying.
But it was with eerie calm that Elrohir loaded his bow and shot, the arrow hitting its mark in the eye of one of the trolls.
Another arrow went through the other eye, felling the beast, and creating a opening point to escape from the ring of approaching trolls. That one came from Elladan, who nodded to Elrohir.
He knew what to do. Swift as he could manage, Elrohir had used the fallen troll to give him a boost up to a tree, where he used his vantage point to shoot arrow after arrow, aiding the elves and rangers. In a matter of moments, more of his comrades were with him shooting from the canopy.
Then, the moment came. Elrohir reached into the quiver at his waist, only to find it empty.
A wave of fear washed over him, but was abated when he saw Elladan below him, battling for his life with a great brute of a troll. Drawing his sword from his back sheath, he leapt down from the tree, and used the momentum to aid in his swing, slicing the great head from its putrid neck.
Elrohir landed kneeling on the troll's back, sword still in the follow-through position. Elladan helped him from his knees, thanking him.
"But there is no time for words, brother," said Elladan quickly, "Our friends are still deep in the fray!"
|