Sarina ran blindly into the forest holding Alif, tears streaming down her face as she ran. She tripped on a root and fell, cutting her knee on a rock. She let out a cry of pain but got back up, looking around to make sure nobody was following. She heard the distant clang of steel from the direction she had come from, and her heart broke thinking she had left the Ranger to his death. But he had wanted her to. And now she had to keep his little nephew safe.

   She looked down at the child, and he smiled up at her, almost like he was encouraging her to keep going. She ran onward for what seemed like hours, not daring to stop until she decided it was safe. She collapsed against a large rock attempting for a moment to catch her breath.

That's when the forest caught fire.

It started out as a small light in the distance, flickering like a firefly, and then she smelled smoke. Within a few minutes, flames began to devour the trees around her. She looked in all directions, but saw only flames.

Suddenly, a tall, cruel looking man dressed in grey stepped from the fire only a few yards away. His shining mask reflected the flames, and he looked terrifying.

"What are you doing out here, all alone?" His voice was menacingly low, almost a growl. As he spoke, another man dressed the same as him stepped out of the flames behind him, holding a flaming brand. Three bow legged orcs followed. They must've started the fire on purpose, to draw Sarina and Gerithor out.

Sarina felt her heart thundering in her chest as fear threatened to overtake her, but despite this she rested a hand on her sword.

"I was just passing through when the forest caught fire," she said, voice quivering.

"Strange for someone to pass through the forest at this time of night." The man had a slight accent, and it made his words sound slightly more evil.

"Strange indeed," the other man mused, stepping forward and looking at her. "And she has a child."

"Enough talk, let's just kill her!" The largest of the three orcs said with a deep growl.

"Just a moment, Takrir." The first man raised his hand, stopping the Orc from moving toward her. "This one may be worth taking alive."

"Ach, what would she possibly be any good for. She looks weak." The Orc named Tarkrir said. "But tasty." He licked his jagged sword and looked at Sarina disturbingly. She shuddered and set Alif down by a tree, drawing her sword.

"You'll have to fight me before you do either!" She tried to sound tough but only managed to sound slightly frightened at best.

The orcs laughed maniacally. The men both looked at her curiously, wondering if she was serious. Just then the smallest and meanest looking Orc charged toward her, spear raised to skewer her. She blocked the spear thrust and slashed, barely missing him. The Orc spun around and thrust again, falling forward as she managed to dodge the attack and slash him in the back. He howled out and collapsed to the ground, wheezing in pain. She looked at the rest of the hunting party, expecting them to be surprised.

The orcs clearly were, but the first man merely raised an eyebrow. The second chuckled and spun his flaming branch around. Sarina looked at him fearfully as he approached her, sword drawn and holding the flaming branch. He smiled cruelly and swung his sword at her, almost carelessly. She blocked, but the strength of his blow surprised her and made her fall back. He smiled wider as she stumbled and he swung again, this time with even more force. She sidestepped this blow and swung at his face with her sword. He easily blocked it with the branch and swung that at her, narrowing his eyes as she fell to the ground. Standing over her triumphantly, he pointed his blade at her neck.

"Stop Relacar!" The first man rushed over. The man who had fought Sarina, Relacar, stepped back, clearly disappointed. As he did, he kicked Sarina's sword away from her and laughed. The first man drew his sword, much longer than his companion's, and put it to her neck.

Sarina was terrified, but tried to keep herself from crying.

"Well then, I think it's time you told the truth." The first man said, stooping down until his face was within inches of hers. He signaled to his companion and the second man picked Alif up, whom she had left nearby and was crying now.

"I already told you the truth. I was just traveling through here with my son, on the way to Bree." She tried to look the man in the eyes, but couldn't. She turned her head away slightly.

"Hmm..." He seemed to be considering it for a moment. She hoped he'd believe her and leave her and Alif alone. He grabbed her by the chin and made her look him in the eyes. "Unfortunately for you, I know your story is false. That little boy is the child of a ranger. So... Tell me the truth. Where is the ranger?" He signaled again to his companion, who had set Alif down. He walked over, burning branch in hand.

"Would you please jog our friend's memory?" He pointed to the flaming brand.

"With pleasure." Relacar smiled wickedly and slowly began to bring the branch closer. Sarina felt the heat from it and tried to pull away, but the other man held her there. Tears began to run down her cheeks as she struggled against the man, flinching back from the flame. Relacar touched the side of her face with the branch, and she let out a scream as it began to burn her.

Just then a cry came from behind, and the two men pulled away and looked. Gerithor ran into the clearing, sword raised high.

"If you want the ranger, you have found him. Leave her alone and face him!" He charged, and the two surviving orcs ran to stop him. He slashed at one and it fell to the ground with a hiss. The Orc captain swung at Gerithor, but he rolled past him and buried his dagger into the large orc's back. It too fell to the ground.

The leader of the hunting party held his longsword high, running to meet the Ranger. Gerithor threw his dagger forcefully. It hit the man in the neck, knocking him backward to the ground with a gurgling, choking sound.

Relacar drew his sword and dropped the branch, grinning evilly. He took off at a run, cruel sword in hand. Gerithor yelled and jumped into the air, sword poised to swing.

   They met in midair, and the force of their meeting was so great that they both fell back dazed. Relacar recovered first and began attacking Gerithor with a series of quick attacks that put him in retreat.

   Sarina ran to Alif, picking him up and taking him to a safe distance. She wanted to help Gerithor, but knew that Alif wasn't safe alone. The flames burned slowly closer, and Sarina moved the baby away from them. She turned to watch the fight that was unfolding.

   Gerithor was still retreating, but it appeared as if he wasn't fighting with his full strength. Relacar seemed surprised that the Ranger wasn't fighting better, and grew more confident. His swings began to get careless. He overextended, and Gerithor saw his chance. He swung quickly downward on Relacar's head. The blow knocked Relacar to the ground, but his iron mask had protected him from being cut in half. The mask, however, broke from the force of Gerithor's swing, and fell to the ground in two pieces. Relacar looked up in fear. A deep gash ran all the way down his face diagonally, and he covered his right eye with one hand. The other hand he held outstretched in front of him, a weak attempt to stave off the final attack. Gerithor raised his sword to strike.

   "Don't!" Sarina cried out. Gerithor lowered his sword, and looked at Sarina in surprise.

   "This man was going to torture you, and you want me to show him mercy?" He narrowed his eyes. Sarina lowered her head and weakly nodded.

   "Why?" Gerithor's expression softened, and he looked at Sarina.

    "He's a Man, just like us. He's not an Orc, or a warg. You can't just kill him when he's unarmed like that." A tear fell down her face, partly from pain and partly from pity for another human.

   Relacar turned to her in surprise, but didn't remove his hand from his eye. Then he sneered at her.

   "What, can't handle a little blood?" He spat in her direction. Gerithor slapped the man across the face roughly.

   "Show her some respect! Or I may decide to kill you anyway." He looked at Relacar with anger.

    "Go ahead. But that won't save you, Dunedain." He said the last word with barely controlled hate. "The day will come when there's no more of your kind left. The Black Numenoreans will rise in the North again. And that day is nigh." He looked up arrogantly at Gerithor. Gerithor looked to Sarina.

   "Let him go. He's been humiliated now, there's no more harm he can do." She looked at Gerithor sadly, understanding how hard it was for him to let this man go.

   "Fine. You live today scum. But you are worthless now. You were defeated by a simple Ranger, and your master will find no value in you. Go quickly, before I change my mind." He roughly shoved Relacar. The man stumbled off into the trees. The fire had died out, but the smoke still lingered

   "You did the right thing. Killing another man in cold blood would have lingered with you for many years to come."

   "You were right to stop me. That was also the right thing to do." He turned away and began to walk. Sarina followed him, carrying Alif in her arms, and they both went east into the charred forest.

===============================
  
They made camp several hours later. Gerithor made a small fire and tended the burn on Sarina's face, gently wiping it clean with cool water from his canteen. Afterward he took Alif and sat down, looking down at him and cradling him in his arms. Sarina sat down on the other side of the fire and looked at the young Ranger gently rocking the baby. She smiled at the sight. There was silence, and the tranquility of the current situation was a welcome break from the chaos of the past few hours.

   "So Alif is your nephew?" She said quietly.

Gerithor looked up and smiled sadly.
   "Yes, he's my sister's son."

    "Where is your sister now?"

    Gerithor looked down. "She was killed in an attack on my camp, along with my mother."

    Sarina was silent for a moment. "I'm sorry, that must have been terrible," she finally said, her voice filled with concern. "How long ago did it happen?"

   "Less than a week ago." Gerithor looked up at Sarina. She looked down, embarrassed that she kept asking the wrong questions. The conversation ended and they both sat in silence for a while. Sarina decided to try and sleep and laid down on a log. She was drifting off when she heard a soft, quiet voice singing:

An Elven-maid there was of old,
A shining star by day:
Her mantle white was hemmed with gold,
Her shoes of silver-grey.

A star was bound upon her brows,
A loght was on her hair
As sun upon the golden boughs
In Lórien the fair.

Her hair was long, her limbs were white,
And fair she was and free;
And in the wind she went as light
As leaf of linden-tree.

Beside the falls of Nimrodel,
By water clear and cool,
Her voice as falling silver fell
Into the shining pool.

Where now she wanders none can tell,
In sunlight or in shade;
For lost of yore was Nimrodel
And in the mountains strayed.

Sarina listened to Gerithor singing in silence. She thought the song was beautiful, and that Gerithor's voice was surprisingly pleasant, considering his usually quiet demeanor. When he was done she rolled over and turned to look at him. He was looking down at Alif, smiling.

  "That was a beautiful song." Gerithor jumped in surprise when Sarina spoke.

   "I thought you were sleeping."

   "I was about to, but your voice is too pleasant to miss hearing. You should sing more." She smiled at him. His face got slightly red and he turned to look at the fire.

   "Thank you. I've never had anyone compliment me on my voice before," he said, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

   "Well perhaps that's because you've never sung when someone else is around," she said, smiling back.

   Gerithor smiled slightly and kept looking into the fire.

"What was that song that you were singing?" Sarina asked after a moment. Gerithor looked up at her, eyes shining.

"It's called the Song of Nimrodel. It is about an elf maiden who loved a great king named Amroth. They set out from Lorien to go into the west, to the Undying Lands, but in the mountains she was lost. Amroth never found her, and died soon after."

"That's a sad story," Sarina said, but in truth she was barely listening. She was mesmerized by Gerithor's sea grey eyes, and the passion with which he talked.

"Yes, it is. My cousin told me it. I've always loved stories about elves." He looked down at little Alif, who was fast asleep. "Plus, Alif falls asleep whenever I sing, so it helps."

Sarina smiled at Gerithor, and closed her eyes. She shivered a little at the cold, and a moment later she felt Gerithor gently cover her with his cloak. She smiled again and slowly drifted off into sleep.

===============================

Gerithor sat back down against the tree, and pulled his knees close to his body to get warmer. The fire was too small to provide much warmth. He had purposely built it small so it wouldn't be as visible.

He held Alif in his arms and tried to keep the baby warm too. He softly stroked the baby's head and smiled. It comforted him to see such innocence and goodness in contrast to such a dark world.

Then he looked over at Sarina, who was now fast asleep under his cloak. She had a smile on her face. There was innocence there too, but a different kind, Gerithor thought to himself. He felt bad that she had come along, she shouldn't have had to be in such danger. But it was her choice after all. The thought didn't make him feel much better. He wrapped his scarf around Alif, making sure he was warm enough. Then he shivered and looked out into the woods, and kept watch over Alif and Sarina all night.