Neither knew it would be their last night together.

Or perhaps one of them had.

Elrond was writing in his journal, keeping notes of the battle and all who were part of it. As usual he began with a listing of the fallen, finding he had to dip his quill far too many times to complete that section. He followed with the usual boring details, then added little snippets from the day - things he heard others discussing, ideas and thoughts that had nothing to do with war. It kept him sane in this horrid environment.

Ereinion entered abruptly, opening the flap of the tent and slipping inside. He tied the entry shut as a deterant to anyone who might disrupt them, then crossed the small space in little time and yanked the journal from Elrond's grasp. This was thrown aside, and before Elrond could protest, he was pounced upon.

In complete silence, they began as they had in all the time they had been here. They made no noise, each muffling the other's cries with lips closed over open mouth. Clothing was discarded and bodies were explored. Always it was a short coupling, for they never knew when the blast of the trumpets would call them forth to attack.

Ereinion broke the silence as they held one another in the little time they had before dawn. "Promise me whatever happens tomorrow, you will stay behind me."

There were days when Elrond wished he had not made that promise.