Duarion wandered through the woods beyond Bree's south gate, savouring the sweet night air. There was barely any wind and the sky was clear. Whenever the stars shone as brightly as they did that night, he felt at peace.
"So, at last we find each other," a voice came from behind him.
Duarion whirled around, then gritted his teeth as he saw who the voice belonged to - Deorthir, his brother. While similar at first glance, closer observation showed Deorthir's extra years, along with his neatly-managed beard. There was an air of arrogance about him that Duarion noticed more now than ever.
"Brother," he said calmly, not betraying his feelings. "What brings you here?"
"You. I have been searching for you for weeks and seemed to keep missing you. It was... troubling."
"Saeldith told me about your encounter with her. Go near her again and..."
"And what?" Deorthir interrupted, frowning. "Surely, you could not be making a threat against me after what brought us to this uncivilised land in the first place."
Duarion turned away, glad of his dark hood concealing his face. "It's not uncivilised here. They lead quieter, simpler lives. You and me, we are used to war, but there is value in peace too."
Deorthir's eyebrows were raised. There was a smirk on his face. "Well, brother, you appear to have become soft in your exile."
In a sudden burst of anger, Duarion stormed over to his brother, reaching for his neck. Deorthir simply side-stepped and tripped Duarion into the dirt.
"Really?" Deorthir mocked. "You know I could always best you in combat. What makes you think that would have changed?"
"I have more to protect now," Duarion grunted, picking himself up quickly.
"Oh yes, your precious Lady Thorongial. How long do you think it will be before she discovers who you truly are and leaves you to the rats?"
Duarion laughed unexpectedly, yet there was still a glint in his eye. "Always you take the high ground for yourself, Deorthir. Yet you miss so much in your rush for dominance. She already knows my past and trusts me still."
Frowning and looking confused for the first time, Deorthir bunched his fists. "Then she is more foolish than I took her for. If I cannot regain respect and return to Gondor, neither will you."
"Once again, you are wrong," Duarion responded, standing his ground. "You see, it seems there are some back home who remember me fondly. The same cannot be said for you. Your disappearance after you set me up caused a great amount of suspicion."
"Get to the point," Deorthir growled.
"Saeldith and I are to be married."
There was a long silence. The tension in the air was thick and charged, as it can only be between blood. Duarion watched with satisfaction as his brother's face worked through a series of emotions from disbelief to anger.
"She appealed to her father for permission," he continued. "Our Captain Faramir gave him some advice about me and he eventually agreed. I will be a son of Gondor once again, and part of a noble house no less."
Deorthir's face was thunderous. "You take all this for yourself and do not include me? I have looked after you your entire life and this is how you repay me?"
"I look after myself now!" Duarion roared back, before calming his voice again. "You lost your right to call on our bond as brothers the moment you caused my exile. Go, leave. You are not welcome here."
Slowly, deliberately, Deorthir drew his great sword from his back. "You cannot dictate where I travel. I am not going anywhere."
Dropping his eyes sadly, Duarion whipped out his twin daggers. "Do not do this. I have a duty to protect House Thorongial, and you are endangering that. You must leave."
In complete silence, as was custom for those trained as rangers of Ithilien, Deorthir swung his sword in what would be a decapitating blow. Shocked at his brother's ferocity, Duarion ducked, feeling his hood ripple as the sword passed. Without leaving any time to recover, he stepped in close, within Deorthir's swinging range. Here, Duarion's shorter blades had the advantage. They traded several rapid blows, but Duarion's agility was more than a match for Deorthir's brute strength.
After a mere few moments, Deorthir was on the floor with a dagger at his throat and a deep wound on his leg.
"I do not want to kill you," Duarion said, "but I do not want to see you again either."
"When..." Deorthir panted. "When did you get so strong?"
"Perhaps I have always been like this and you missed it in your arrogance. I have learnt recently that power is not about proving yourself to others, it's about choosing not to exercise that strength unless it is absolutely necessary."
"What is to stop me coming to this ridiculous marriage and destroying your happiness?"
Duarion kneeled in close, allowing his dagger to draw a tiny amount of blood from Deorthir's neck.
"Firstly, I will not be merciful next time," he whispered. "Secondly, you are just one man. There will be more than a few guests capable of protecting us while we are there."
Duarion stood, sheathing his blades. "Goodbye, brother." Silently, he strode away, melting into the night shadows under the trees.
