[Folwren]

Bror watched the elf he had found walk away in the direction that he had pointed out. He half wondered if he should escort him back, he seemed so weary, but after a moment of thought, decided the elf could make it on his own. Bror turned to continue searching.

A sudden cry to his right from the woods, caused him to turn quickly and hurry towards the trees once again. He ducked branches and dodged the heavy undergrowth and thorns, searching with his eyes to see the person who let out such mournful and heartbreaking sounds. He knew himself to be a poor judge of elf voices, but this one sounded extremely young.

Breaking through a last clump of bushes, Bror came to a stop. There was the child, a young elf girl, and she knelt beside the figure of an elf woman, shaking and calling out some name, and other words. Bror couldn’t understand her, but he did understand the fear and anguish in her face, her voice, and in her very movement. The woman was dead and made no response to the child’s thrusts and shakes, and every second of silence and stillness from her part, caused the little girl to become more frantic, and her voice rose and her cries became more and more desperate.

‘No, no, child! It’s not good!’ Bror said, walking forward. The girl turned, startled at his voice and strange speech. Bror realized with a sick feeling that if he didn’t understand her, she certainly wouldn’t understand him. She sprang up to her feet and started back in fright and Bror stopped. ‘Easy, Bror,’ he said aloud. ‘Don’t scare the girl. You’re going to have to get her back without being able to talk to each other.’ The child didn’t look like she was going to be going anywhere with Bror, by her own free will. The look in her dark eyes and pale face was one of complete and abject terror, but she didn’t turn and run.

‘Come here,’ he said, kneeling down and speaking as softly as he could. ‘Come on. I’m not going to hurt you.’ The girl looked at him, and her lip trembled visibly. Her eyes traced downwards to the ground and then to the figure of the elf woman. Tears burst free and letting out another cry, she darted back to the woman’s side.

‘She won’t answer! She won’t answer!’ she wept, but in the elvish tongue, and Bror could still not understand. ‘They hurt her, but she brought me out here and she talked to me, but she won’t answer now! What’s wrong? What’s wrong with her?’ Her hands moved over the white face and the dark locks of hair as she spoke. Her voice was choked and broken by the sobs that shook her entire body. Bror crawled forward to the other side of the dead elf. He took his gloves off quickly and slipped his hand under the dead figure. Bringing it back out, he found his fingers coated in blood, as he had expected. He wiped it away on the grass and looked at the child.

‘Come on, we’ve got to go back. She’s dead. You can’t wake her up.’ He stood up, taking the girl’s hand in his. She pulled back, but he didn’t let go and pulled her as gently as he could to her feet and began leading her away. Much to his alarm and discomfort, she began to scream and struggle for release. ‘Oh, to be able to speak the elves words!’ he grumbled to himself. ‘What do I do now?’ He looked down at the girl and then up and around the wood. An elf running towards him caught his eye and he lifted his hand, though he figured that the child’s screaming would be enough to guide him. ‘I am glad you’ve come,’ Bror said, releasing the girl as the elf came to a halt by their side.

‘I can understand why,’ he replied, and then looking down at her, he spoke to the sobbing elf child in her own tongue. The conversation was not long, but she was calmed by his gentle and soothing voice and within two minutes he approached her and picked her up gently. Bror stood by and watched, waiting until the end to see whether the elf needed to tell him anything. He did have a message, and now that he held the girl, he turned to Bror and delivered it. ‘Master Dwarf, we’re regrouping to begin the march out. The orcs won’t be long in coming to finish off what is left of us and the refugees if we don’t leave this place. You should return with me.’

‘Aye, very well,’ Bror answered. They turned and started off through the woods. ‘Was that her mother back there?’ Bror asked after a little time of silence.

‘Yes. She doesn’t understand that she died, or why she would have.’ Bror nodded and asked no other questions. It was enough to explain the girl’s behavior, and it caused a cold, ice like feeling to grow inside him. This battle touched and affected more than just the warriors that fought it. The orcs were ravaging people, bent on destruction and death, and the women and children were likely targets to make.

When they reached the elven troops and the groups of refugees that had been found and gathered, Bror parted with the two elves he was with and went in search of Skald and the other dwarves. He hoped that his older brother hadn’t gone off looking for him. Pushing his way through and among the elves, he finally caught sight of a group of dwarves standing some little ways off. Skald was there, speaking with one of them. Bror hurried forward and heard his name just as he came near enough to hear anything.

‘No, haven’t seen him since. . .wait, there he is now,’ the dwarf said in response to Skald’s questioning. He nodded towards Bror and Skald turned around.

‘Hullo, Skald,’ Bror said coming to him. ‘I’m back, and not late, I hope.’