Well. To all my loyal readers of 'To love a Senju and save an Uchiha' I want to say: and now something completely different! I have not forgotten Tobirama. But I must admit I got a bit distracted by these interesting twins. My take on Elladan and Elrohir. A bit darker than usual. And a bit of Japan in Middle Earth. Please read and review! I love to hear what you think!

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Flame Light! Flee darkness! Lacho calad! Drego morn!

Middle Earth: in a northern forest.

The fight was too fast for mortal eyes to follow, only the spray of blood betrayed the movement of their swords. They were fair of face. fearless and gallant as Elf warriors could be. Moving in sync, agile and lean, their movements like water. Their stern faces betrayed no emotion as they slayed their enemies, cutting through their flesh. Internally they relished the resistance of the tissue against the sharpness of their blades, how they had to put speed and force behind the cut to penetrate the skins and flesh. They relished every cry of pain they caused. They made their enemies suffer with intent, the wounds they inflicted never lethal, but always painful.

They hunted their enemies relentlessly. Always taking unnecessary risks, provoking, hunting, ambushing, murdering. It was a means of survival for them. They could let the reins they held over their hatred go for a few fleeting moments while fighting. And they needed that momentary lack of control. Without it, they would have faded centuries ago. They needed these moments of total madness and bloodlust to stay sane.

When the fight was over and the last of their enemies had perished they stood in between the corpses, dazed, slowly regaining their composure, catching their breath. The smell of blood and guts was strong, lingering between the trees, stuck on their skins. As if by a miracle, there was not a spot of blood on their clothing. They liked the smell of blood and death. They loved the way their bodies remembered the fights afterwards, on edge, worn down, bruised, injured. It was the only way for their mind and body to feel connected. Only this amount of hurt, exhaustion and adrenaline made the union of their body and mind feel temporarily balanced.

While walking through the forest towards their horses, a dense fog was emerging from the trees, feeling cold and moist on their skin. The change in atmosphere was a welcome one. Their senses were heightened by the adrenaline, and their sweating skin cooled off quickly, making their minds clear and sharp. They found their animals unharmed and still relaxed. The food they were eating was still lying on the large boulder, as evidence of their sudden departure when they sensed their enemies. Packing the food in the saddlebags, they saddled the horses slowly.

Darkness stretched over their heads above the fog. A few stars visible, their faint light, almost invisible for mortal eyes, guided them in the forest. They needed to leave this place, to reach the plains and the land beyond it quickly. The odds were against them. They were reckless but not stupid; two dozen of orc they sensed and some warg, numbers that even two Elf warriors of their might could not take on.

Suddenly, the forest became quiet. They stopped their movements, listening. A low humming sound was echoing in between the trees around them, it's unfamiliarity making them wary. Wondering if this was some trick of the enemy, they shared a look of understanding. Then quickly parted ways silently: one taking off stealthily to find the source of the sound, the other kept on preparing a quick departure. The only sound that he emitted was soft singing to the horses to keep them calm.

Earth, Japan, around now

The road leading through the woods to her uncle's cabin, was not very wide and it was only barely visible in the silvery moonlight. Her bike was silent except for the bicycle chain, that made a pleasant smooth rattling sound that soothed her overworked brain. The cold night air gave her mild goosebumps. The chill was a great contrast to her overheated body. Her skin was blissfully bare for the cold air to touch, wearing only small black shorts with a racerback top. Where the messenger bag with her katana attached to the top, met the skin on her back, there was an uncomfortable hotness.

The woods were eerie silent, only a small hooting owl seemed to occupy the trees around her. She kept on cycling on the uneven path, bracing herself for every hole and dent, standing on the pedals, keeping her arms flexibel at the elbows, her gloved hands gripping the handles loosely but secure.

She loved cycling at night. She didn't carry light, so she was dependant on the shimmer of the moon. Her night vision was good, she could see the small path glowing in the darkness. This added to the rush that she experienced from racing in between the trees. Suddenly she became aware of a low humming sound. Barely noticeable over the rattling of her bike.

She squeezed the breaks and stopped abruptly, panting in the night air. When the sound of her breathing died down, she sharpened her hearing to locate the strange humming, but it seemed to have disappeared. She stood there for a few minutes, listening intently. What could it have been? She was miles away from the nearest outskirt of town. There was no traffic here.

After awhile she decided that she imagined it and proceeded to cycle further into the woods. She kept being vigilant, trying to hear the sound again, but it did not return. Puzzled she reached the cabin at last.

She took the bike on her shoulder easily and walked up the steps to put it on the porch. The key was hidden in its usual spot. Inside a small battery powered light turned on automatically. She threw her messenger bag on the ground where it landed with a dull thud. First she hung her katana on a custom made support on the wall. Then she quickly put on a hoodie before her body cooled off too much.

After making a fire in the wood stove that was standing in the center of the cabin she showered. The water was cold as ice. She knew it would make her feel extra warm afterwards. Her long black hair balanced in a loose bun on the top of her head, evading the water. When she had dried off and padded towards the woodstove, she was still shivering.

Standing in front of the stove, she put her favorite hand dyed indigo momohiki pants on. These traditional pants closed with straps around the waist and were comfortably baggy, around the calves the fabric became more tight. On her neck she wore a black buff that she could pull up over her mouth and nose in case of biting wind on the bike. She wore a sports bra with racerback. She didn't really need one, but she felt more comfortable in it. Over it a black racerback top and a tight black hoodie. Black and indigo made her feel comfortable.

The bruise was not too bad she decided. It was located just underneath her cheekbone on the left side. Hideo managed to pierce her defence work again. She sighed, she would never beat him, unless it was in the bedroom during their rare sexual encounters. She played out the match in her head again, going over her mistakes while staring in the mirror. After awhile she snapped out of her thoughts and sighed. Pulling the buff upward to her chin she padded over to her bag.

Unpacking the cooked rice she prepared at home she sat with a sigh on her knees in front of the fire. Thoughtfully chewing she thought about Hideo. Training was her life, but it frustrated her that she never seemed to win from him. What was the difference between them? Their training schedules were the same, their mental motivation equal. Was it because she was a girl? She refused to think that. Maybe it mattered in other sports where physical weight or strength was important, but in sword fighting it was all about agility, flexibility, grace and endurance. She was his equal on those points.

Hideo told her once after a steamy sex session, lying lazy in bed during the day, that she thought too much. She needed to trust her feeling and body and turn off her brain. She needed to let herself go.

And there was the problem, right there. She could admit it to herself. She could not let go. She was scared to let go and to give in to darker emotions and things her instincts wanted. There must be another way to better herself, there must be.

She put the empty container on the ground and leaned against the couch. Staring into the flames, she felt peaceful, warm and content. Her mind lulled itself into silent submission.

It all seemed to come down to only two things in life: mind and body. That was what she was fighting against her whole life, her mind and her body. She closed her eyes letting her head fall backwards, dozing off.

A slow sound startled her. She sat up straight. The sound! She heard it again! Quickly she put on her sandals and walked to the door, stopping only to take the katana from the wall and attaching it with a custom made strap on her back. Pulling up her hoodie she stepped outside, only to notice that the cabin was surrounded by a dense deep fog, like an island in a white ocean.

Hesitantly she stepped out of the door onto the porch, closing it behind her until she heard the familiar faint click. The humming seemed to originate from behind the house, further into the woods. She swallowed audibly but she was more puzzled than scared. Picking up a small lantern from the porch and pulling up her buff till over her nose, she stepped into the fog.

While walking towards the sound, she made sure to keep a straight line. After fifty meters, she noticed that the sound changed direction quickly.

Well. That was just downright creepy.

She shivered involuntarily. She was experienced enough in survival to realise it was easy to get lost under these circumstance. The whole thing was puzzling, but it was not worth to get lost over in the middle of the night. She walked back to the cabin. She knew the woods well and recognized the trees. She would reach it in seconds.

Instead she didn't. Instead the trees became unfamiliar. The bark on the pine trees became lighter until the trunks seemed almost white, causing a strange effect in the grey fog around her. It gave the forest a weightless atmosphere.

The hairs in her neck seemed to rise, fear spiking in her stomach. What was going on? She could not be lost right?

If she didn't know any better, she would think herself to be lost in a cheesy horror movie. Was it that easy to get lost? She turned around. In search for the familiar trees again. But after awhile she still saw only the trees with the white trunks. She tried to evade reality in her mind, but she just knew that these trees did not exist in this forest. She never saw trees like this in her life.

She started to panic now. Jogging through the fog. The katana on her back was a comforting weight. It was no use calling out, there was nobody here. So she kept her fear inside of herself. But it kept growing until she felt that she was almost losing control. Where was she? It was evident that she was not in the forest that she knew, which was impossible.

Suddenly she heard a horse whinnying. She came to an abrupt halt. A horse? What was happening here? But she had no other option than to check this out. It felt claustrophobic to be running around a foggy wood seeing only tree trunks.

She heard the sound a few more times, so she had a good sense of its direction. Out of reflex she unsheathed her sword, the hissing sound of the metal seemed abnormally loud. But the grip gave her a sense of security.

Before she had a visual on the horse, she felt a presence behind her and she whirled around her sword following the movement of her body. Her lantern fell to the ground, disabling her sight. The metal made a loud clang, colliding with another blade. She recognized the sound immediately. Her sword was blocked with two quick moves from her opponent and she felt the cold metal touching her neck within seconds.

Her breath seemed to be missing and her heart stopped momentarily. She felt like she was glued to the ground.

A harsh male voice spoke. One clipped word that she did not understand: "Daro!"

She wanted to speak, to beg for the man not to hurt her, but her tongue was stuck in her mouth, her throat dry. The words caught deep inside her. She felt angry with herself for being this frightened. The pressure of the metal disappeared and more clipped words were spoken.

Realising she must look suspect with only her eyes visible, she slowly raised her hands to remove her hood and buff while facing the man that was before her.

The man had picked up the lantern, still pointing his blade at her. Her mouth fell open in awe. In the small circle of white light his raven black hair shone and his grey eyes gave a silvery glint. His face was of a timeless beauty. If she would have to guess his age, she would be at a loss. His eyes were very peculiar, radiating high intelligence and a wisdom that was beyond his years, which sounded absurd, like something from a fairy tale. But there was no other way to describe them.

His presence was overwhelming, but she could not pin down what this entailed exactly. He looked regal and stoic, while he stared into her eyes. Charisma or strong character could not explain his presence, it felt as if he were charged with some power, not visible for the eye, but that could only be felt with other senses. Senses that she had been unaware of before. His smell made her stagger mentally. A potent smell of horses mixed with woodfire, sweat, urine and something earthy and masculine hit her nose. This was an alien smell and seemed to taint his handsome face. People did not smell like this, in this age of showers and soap.

He was staring at her intently, no emotions visible in his face except the workings of his brain behind his eyes. He wore his hair pulled back on top, braided on the sides, which revealed the pointed tips of his ears. She gaped at him. This was just a dream! It had to be! He could not be an elf right? He must be a cosplayer, right? But some voice in the back of her head did not believe it.

He spoke more words, less clipped, his face unreadable. She finally found her voice and replied in her own tongue, which seemed to puzzle him. "I don't understand.. Please… I mean no harm…"

He motioned for her to step forward, pointing in the direction where she heard the horse. She started walking towards the darkness. She had no doubt that he was having his sword ready behind her in case she would run away.

In a small clearing stood another man beside two stallions. Panic gripped her once again. Two men, two maniacs with swords! This was getting disturbing and dangerous now. She could take one man with a sword, but two?

When she approached the second man, the light of her lantern fell on him. His features disorientated her momentarily. What was going on? His face was an exact copy of the man behind her. She turned around to look at her captor to convince herself.

Too slow she realised they must be twins. This was not good. Her fear was influencing her mind.

The brother was just saddling the horse, strapping a long and beautiful sword in front of it, the blade slightly curved. He looked mildly surprised at her appearance, talking rapidly to his brother in that strange language. They seemed to differ in opinion. After a short while, she suddenly felt a sharp pain in her neck and she lost consciousness.