A/N: Gods! I hate this site! The format NEVER goes how it's meant to. If you want to see it in the proper format, go to www. lotrfanfiction. Com (cancel the spaces) and go to GeminiElf to see my stories. Both the Black Rose and Chains are there
"Elladan?"
His
head hurt and something sticky had dried on his cheek.
"Elladan?"
His arms and legs were bound. His left arm had a painful cramp in it.
"Elladan!?"
Someone was calling him.
"Estel? Elladan! Please, answer me! Wake up! Do something!"
'Elrohir?' Elladan opened his eyes. He was in a moving wagon; fading daylight filtered through a cloth covering the one small window. It was sweltering hot in the small space.
He pulled himself into a sitting position, wincing slightly as his cramped arm shifted. Aragorn lay nearby in a heap. Elrohir, half of his face encrusted with blood, was leaning against the side of the wagon, his eyes closed.
"'Ro?" Elladan whispered hoarsely.
Elrohir's eyes snapped open, "'Dan! Thank the Valar!"
"Where are we?"
"Heading east, but as to exactly where we are…" Elrohir shrugged as well as he could with his hands bound behind his back. "How is your head?"
"Fine."
"Truly?"
Elladan gave his brother a half-hearted glare. "It only hurts a bit. Besides, yours must be worse, judging by the amount of blood on your face."
"Head wounds bleed a lot, you know that. Anyway, your face looks worse than mine."
"How do you know? You cannot see your own face!"
"I just know," Elrohir said, smirking, before becoming serious again. "Any sign of a concussion?"
"…Nay…I remember everything clearly. We were ambushed in Nómin Pass. Estel got hit over the head. Then I was hit from behind; someone must have slipped around to my rear."
"Same story here, more or less," Elrohir scowled, "nice style, sneak up on people whilst they are fighting for their lives!"
"Do you know what happened to the others?"
Elrohir shook his head.
"I remember seeing Daven fall, but I do not know how badly he was injured. Hadin was shot; I doubt he survived," Elladan mused.
"Estel yelled at Tarrin to escape…maybe he got away."
"I hate not knowing," Elladan grumbled.
"I know you do; I feel the same."
The wagon suddenly stopped and voices were heard outside. Both glanced sharply at the entrance as it parted and a woman stepped through. Elladan squinted in the dim light to look at her. She had long, raven hair that tumbled down to her waist. Her skin was tanned, and spoke of travel in far-off places. The style of her green dress was foreign to Elladan, and it looked as if it had seen better days. She was carrying a water skin and several damp cloths.
Kneeling down beside Elladan, she raised the skin to his lips. He sipped thirstily, barely caring that it was lukewarm and closed his eyes as she wiped the blood off his face.
When she had cleaned him to her satisfaction, she walked over to Elrohir and repeated the process. Elrohir had been right; his wound had looked worse than it was.
The woman moved over to Aragorn and gently manoeuvred his limp body into a sitting position, his back resting against the side of the wagon. The twins watched as she enabled him to swallow some water.
"How is he?" Elrohir asked. The woman began to wipe the blood from Aragorn's face, giving no indication that she had heard him.
"Please, he is our friend. We only wish to know if he is alright."
The woman did not reply at first. Then she rose and softly said, "He will live."
The twins gave each other exasperated looks.
"What is your name?" Elladan asked, trying to continue the conversation. The woman paused for a moment, and Elladan believed she would answer. Then she rose and went to the entranceway and called, "Marko?"
A rough deep voice answered. "Yeah?"
"Should I feed the human?"
"Nah, wait till he wakes up. It's hard enough to make 'em drink, let alone eat."
The woman came back in holding a chunk of bread. She tore it in two and knelt down beside Elrohir.
A plan began formulating in Elladan's mind as he watched his brother awkwardly trying to eat.
"You could untie us, you know."
The woman snorted, "I am no fool. I have dealt with your kind before. Your tricks will not work on me."
"I am being serious." He leaned forwards as best he could with his arms tied behind his back. "Elves are harmless until the moon is full, and the moon was full two weeks ago. You are safe now."
"Do you honestly expect me to believe that?" the woman asked. "You are not a blood demon or a werewolf; you are an elf who is trying to escape captivity."
He laughed huskily. "Are you sure? How do you know? The legends of Elves have been distorted; how do you know what is real?"
"You…you would have claws or fangs or something. Some sort of sign."
Elladan grinned; she was finally losing her cool. It had taken longer than he expected.
"There are no signs…I am only trying to help you."
The woman turned to him, a definite look of panic in her eyes.
"Marko!" she called.
A tall, dark-haired man entered the tent. "I heard him." He glared murderously at Elladan. Elladan met his gaze steadily; he had encountered worse people than this. Marko moved closer to Elladan and, without warning, punched him hard in the face.
Valar! That hurt! It didn't feel as if anything was broken, but he would definitely have a bruise there later. Wincing, he glared up at Marko, who glared back fiercely. "I have a suggestion elf. Don't bother with your tricks and fairy tales; they will not work on me!" He turned to the woman, "I warned you Esmeralda! They are tricky folk, these elves! Do not believe a word they say!" and with that he stomped outside.
Esmeralda turned to Elladan, and for a moment he thought she would also strike him. Instead she held the second piece of bread to his lips. He ate awkwardly, wincing as his cheek protested at every movement.
"That was foolish," Esmeralda said, her face and voice devoid of emotion. "If you could not be sold for such a great price he would have killed you."
"Who was that?" Elrohir asked. Elladan noticed Esmeralda's face darkened slightly. "That is none of your concern elf."
"I have a name."
"Do you think your future masters will care about that? Get used to being an object!"
"Masters?" Elladan saw Elrohir scowl. "You are slave traders!"
"That's right," she replied coolly, placing the last of the bread into Elladan's mouth and walking out.
Elrohir huffed angrily, glaring at the entrance. His gaze softened as he looked at his brother.
"That was foolish," he chided gently, speaking in their native tongue so the slave traders wouldn't understand if they overheard.
Elladan swallowed, "I have never been good at making up plans on the spur of the moment," he pouted slightly. "I thought it was working!"
Elrohir laughed softly, "It is a shame it did not. But even if it had, what would we do then? We do not know their number, Estel is unconscious and we are both injured."
"Not badly, we have suffered worse," Elladan argued.
"I know," Elrohir sighed. "You are so stubborn."
"You would not have me any other way," Elladan chuckled.
Elrohir rolled his eyes before asking, "Is anything broken?"
"Nay, I am badly bruised, but thankfully I do not think anything is broken or cracked."
"Thank the Valar for small miracles."
"Aye…Thank the Valar…"
They sat in silence for a few minutes, before Elrohir let out a long, deep sigh.
"What is it?"
Elrohir looked at Elladan despairingly. "How long before they realise we are missing?"
Elladan opened his mouth to reply, paused, frowned, and closed his mouth.
"Exactly," Elrohir's eyes slid from his brother to the dirty floor, "we are not due back for at least a month, and who knows where we will be by then?"
"We
cannot give up," Elladan said fiercely. "We will be alright 'Ro,
we have come through worse than this!"
"The situation looks
pretty hopeless from where I am sitting."
"Then sit somewhere else!"
Elrohir couldn't help but let out a small breath of laughter at that.
"I think we should have another go at waking Estel." Elladan said after another few silent minutes had passed. Elrohir nodded, and awkwardly started to shift over to Aragorn's limp body.
"Estel? It is us, 'Dan and 'Ro. You need to wake up," Elladan urged softly.
Elrohir finally reached Aragorn and nudged him softly with his shoulder. Aragorn moaned sleepily.
"Wake up Estel," Elrohir said.
Aragorn blinked, his grey eyes taking in his surroundings with one brief glance. He tilted his head slightly to better see his gwador (1).
"'Dan?"
The twins immediately traded worried glances; it wasn't like Aragorn to not be able to tell them apart.
"Estel, how is your head?"
"My head? Fine. I do not think I have a concussion."
"Are you sure?"
"Yes,"
Aragorn said confidently, "Why? What is wrong?"
"I am not
'Dan, I am 'Ro," Elrohir explained.
"Ah…" Aragorn frowned, "It is dark in here and you two are identical. It was a simple mistake that anyone could have made."
"Still…it is unlike you to confuse us."
Aragorn sighed. "Trust me, I am fine." Glancing at Elladan, he added, "and I definitely feel better than you look! What in Varda's name happened to you?"
"Slave trader," Elladan grunted.
"He had a plan to trick one of the slave traders. Unfortunately it failed and her friend punched him."
"I am fine, nothing is broken," Elladan said, anticipating Aragorn's question before it was asked.
"Glad to hear it," Aragorn peered around hopefully. "Did anyone else survive?"
"We do not know, but we hope they did."
"Hadin is most likely dead, as is Daven. As for the others…" Elladan shrugged.
"What of Tarrin? I sent him to get help."
"We do not know. Hopefully he will have found a ranger camp or made it to Imladris by now. If not…" Elladan did not bother to finish the sentence. They all knew the consequences if their last hope failed them.
(1). Gwador – Soul brother.
