Before the Gate

by Jay of Lasgalen

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Elladan tightened his grip on his sword hilt as he surveyed the gathering hosts of Mordor.  Orcs and Easterlings and trolls surrounded them, the hordes deepening even as he watched.   “We are outnumbered, little brother,”  he said softly.

Elrohir nodded.  “Aye.  But when has that ever stopped us?”  He smiled grimly.  “This was our idea – and Father’s.   It is a little late to change our minds now!”    He sobered and turned to face Elladan, clasping his arm tightly.  “If we fall, we fall together,”  he vowed.

Elladan gripped his arm.  “Together,”   he agreed.  “Whatever may come, we face it together.”

There was a harsh bray of trumpets as arrows thudded into the ground at their feet, and a mighty roar as orcs and trolls surged towards them, blood-red light glinting dully on swords and spears.

With an icy battle calm, Elladan waited to meet them, with Elrohir by his side.