[Firefoot]

Thorvel stared after Ambarturion and Megilaes as they disappeared into the trees. “The plan...” he started to say, but the words started soft and faded from his lips. The plan had gone to pieces starting with Lómarandil’s capture. Now it was time to improvise. He was too wrapped in his own thoughts to pay close attention as Lómarandil regained consciousness and made his way over to where the Orc lay. The young Elf clearly wasn’t fit yet to do any serious fighting, and the wound in his shoulder didn’t look pretty, to say the least. Somehow there had to be some way to get all the Elves back together. They were spread out now, as surely as birds were scattered when their perch was disturbed. They could do nothing effective as spaced out as they were Why did Ambarturion see that? Thorvel did not think that the other Elf was thinking very clearly at the moment. They needed to escape from the Orcs and regroup, not go plunging wildly in every which direction. Thorvel remembered a small stand of trees not too far from where they were right now; he thought he could see it. He noticed that Lómarandil had regained that which was his from the Orc camp, and turned to the female Elf who was now standing nearby. He thought he had heard her called Coromswyth. Despite her appearance, he suspected that she was very capable of defending herself if need be. Ambarturion had told her to stay there, but Thorvel saw no sense in that and said so.

“I think it would be better if we all gathered together away from here,” Thorvel said. “Do you see those trees over there?” She nodded. “Make your way to those, and take Lómarandil with you. He is in no condition to fight, so make sure he does not try to come after us. I think that he may be foolish enough to think he is a fair match for the Orcs that are around. I will try to find the others and meet you there. Does this sound all right to you?”

“I suppose so,” she replied, sounding resigned. Thorvel nodded, and started to walk towards Lómarandil when he noticed Lómarandil was already coming to him.

"Thank you," Lómarandil whispered. Thorvel was rather startled and somewhat confused; he had not expected it and was not sure what the thanks was for. He did not let it put him off for long though, and he knelt to retrieve his arrow from the dead Orc and replacing it to his quiver before speaking.

“You and Coromswyth,” - this was said with a movement of his head toward the female Elf - “are going to make your way to that stand of trees in the distance. Do not think you are fit to fight the Orcs; your shoulder needs tending to.” The last bit was added when he noted the younger Elf open his mouth as if to speak in argument. Now he scowled: it was a look Thorvel was becoming used to. He decided to take that as agreement. “Good.” With that, Thorvel turned and began running swiftly and softly towards the trees, and the sound of crashing metal.

Even as he went, he removed the knife from its sheath, wanting to be ready should he come on any Orcs. He found one, and slew it from behind before it was aware he was there. He wiped his knife on the fallen Orc, and continued where he found Ambarturion and his younger companion finishing off a pair of Orcs.

“Listen to me, Ambarturion,” said Thorvel, determined not to let the other Elf’s manner overcome him this time. “This is madness. Eventually we will come upon more Orcs than just a few stragglers, and it will be three against many, if we do not find the other two first. I do not care whether you do not want to run from the Orcs or not. If we are slain, it will do nobody any good at all, and Lothlórien will have little or no warning at all of the coming attack. We must regroup elsewhere! I have sent Coromswyth and Lómarandil on to a small stand of trees where the Orcs will not find them, and I said we would join them, and we will. It is in that direction,” he said with a gesture of his arm. “You say my companions need aid? What they need is to know that the rescue is complete so that they can escape!” His tone was soft so as not to alert the Orcs of their presence, but forceful. Ambarturion’s frown had grown deeper with each sentence. Thorvel could tell he did not like taking orders one bit, and suspected that an argument would come if he allowed it to. “Meet us there. I will get the others.” He turned to where he thought he heard sound of battle without waiting to hear the other Elf’s reply. He dearly hoped that Ambarturion would listen.

Sure enough, within a few minutes he found Calenvása and Targil hidden by the trees. There were some dead Orcs lying on the ground, and by the sound of it, more were coming.

“Hurry!” he said urgently. “The prisoners are free, and I have arranged for us all to meet in a group of trees not too far from here. Follow me!” Thorvel hoped they would all meet together. It all depended on whether the Lórien Elves and Lómarandil had decided to listen. He plunged into the trees, Calenvása and Targil close behind. Oh, I hope everything works out...