Title: CAPTURED

Authors: Fianna and Heather the Mage

Rating: R for violence

Note and Warning: This is not an easy trial for Haldir, but one must keep faith that the March Warden will persevere. Caught in a dangerous battle for his life, he will have to face many things including his own prejudice.

Also, we'd like to thank Julie for allowing us to use her Ferodir. He has an important part in the story, and we use him with great respect and adoration.

Disclaimer: Lórien and the world of Arda belong to JRR Tolkien and are written here only for personal pleasure and respect to the one who created them.

Chapter 9: Flight

Orophin stood at the edge of the small grove that housed the Lady of Light's magick, her mirror. He shifted his feet uneasily, fully aware that he might not like what he saw, or did not see. Would the images be blocked for him as well, he wondered? Was there some higher power controlling their fate, or was it simply the mirror itself refusing to acknowledge Galadriel's questions.

It did not matter.

He turned as a faint whisper caught his attention, moving out of the shadows as Lady Galadriel floated down the slate steps into the bower, her long silver-blond hair draped past her hips, the long white gown trailing several feet behind her. She was beautiful, their Lady, and he adored her, respected her great wisdom, and was terrified of her power as well.

He bowed his head, touching his brow. "My Lady."

Galadriel grasped his arm, smiling faintly perhaps in an effort to comfort his unease. He knew she sensed what he felt, had probably delved into his thoughts without his knowing.

"Nay, Orophin, I have not pried," she said quietly as she moved past him.

He lifted a brow, slightly amused by her admission, aware that she had listened to his musings, at least in the past few minutes.

She glanced behind her with an impish smile, a woman of many years, yet she looked like a young elleth but for her eyes. The blue depths glittered with the wisdom she had earned over her long life, still alive in the third age of the world.

He could only wish his life would be that long.

"What must I do," he asked, following her toward a small stone pedestal carved with vines and intricate weaved designs. It held a large flat silver bowl, which gleamed dully in the flickering light of the setting sun.

"You are fully aware of the power of my mirror," Galadriel said in a low voice, moving to grasp a silver pitcher sitting near the stream that gurgled alongside the bower. She bent low, dipping the carafe into the water, and then straightened again to look at him.

Orophin moved back, allowing her to cross to her mirror. "I am. I know what I see can be of the past, or future."

"Or nothing at all," she warned, lifting the vessel up over the bowl.

"I will take that chance," Orophin said firmly, but felt a faint trill of unease as the water began to pour gently into the mirror.

He waited until it calmed, watching Galadriel intently as she brushed her hand over the surface without touching the water.

"I will see what you see," she declared softly. "Ask what you will, Orophin. I pray that it will answer."

He nodded faintly, and stepped up to the mirror, grasping the sides of the bowl with both hands. The water looked dull, a gray mist that did not even reflect his face, but seemed to swallow him, drawing him closer and closer until he felt a hand touch his shoulder, bringing him back to awareness, startled to find his nose nearly touching the water.

"The magick is powerful, warden. Do not touch the water."

He straightened, distancing himself from the mirror, and then with a quick glance at Galadriel, he spoke his question.

"What has happened to Haldir?"

The water shifted, without a ripple crossing the surface, but it looked as if the water shivered, and then a face appeared, blurry at first, then clearing to reveal a young woman, her dark eyes full of both fear and anger. A Haradrim woman, he was sure, noting the dark robe she wore, the long dark hair plastered to her shoulders. She was wet and annoyed. Yet she looked behind her with a tangible fear, and then she faded and the mirror was once again the grey shimmer that drew him forward.

He resisted the pull, blinking, trying to absorb what he had seen, to understand what the mirror had shown him.

Was she someone near Haldir? Did she know anything about him? What was she afraid of, Haldir or someone else? The image gave him only more questions, and no answers. He looked up at Galadriel in frustration, but she was only staring at the bowl.

It had changed once again, and now revealed what he knew was one of the Haradrim camps, set on a high rise surrounded by a sharp fence of spikes and water. The camp teemed with activity, voiceless shouts as the warriors within scrambled about seemingly aimlessly. Bees in a hive, Orophin thought absently, but distinctly aware they were not as unorganized as they looked. Something had happened, and the warriors were gathering for battle, or something else.

He blinked as the image faded.

No answers, it seemed, yet…

Galadriel watched him intently as he moved a few steps away from the mirror.

"Will it allow me to look again?"

She nodded. "Tomorrow. I am sending Rumil to Harad."

He smiled faintly. "It will give him something to do."

Galadriel matched his smile. "I have sent one of the small falcons with him, so he can send word. I cannot connect to him as I do with Haldir. I hope that perhaps you, through my mirror, will be able to lead him to where he must go."

Orophin looked at the pedestal and the mirror, his lips tight. "It will give me answers," he insisted. "Somehow."

Galadriel sighed faintly. "We can only hope."

xxx

Haldir pulled Sanaa from her mount, jerking the long heavy robe from over her head, dropping it on the back of the horse. He helped her wring out her hair, trying hard not to inhale the wretched smell from the moat, and then lifted her back onto the back of the horse. "She will not let you fall, but hang on tightly."

The young girl nodded, her eyes wide, shivering in the night air. "I will not fall."

He turned away to find Selena trying to pull on her robe, her arms caught over her head, her mutters growing more heated as the fabric caught on her wet body. He sighed and moved closer, grasping the rough cloth to jerk it down off her arms.

"We have little time to delay."

She flashed him a scowl, shoving the wet strands of her hair out of her face. "I won't slow you down."

He lifted her onto the horse, aware of her slim body beneath his hands, telling himself he was not a fool for taking the two children with him. Selena shifted her robes until she could clasp the horse with her knees, leaning down over the horse's back to stare at him. "We won't hold you back. You promised."

"I will keep my promise, as will you. But keep close, I can only pray the moon will soon be behind the clouds and we will not be so noticeable. The horses are elvish, and will leave little trail to follow, but they are swift, so hang on."

She snorted rudely, with a glare. "I can ride."

Haldir did not miss the flash of unease in her eyes. She had to ride, and ride hard. He looked around them, aware that the camp was awake and the men inside moving. They would not be long behind them.

He grasped the reins of the two warden's mounts, and then ignoring the dizziness that threatened to make him ill, pulled himself onto his stallion. With a last concerned glance at the camp behind them, he urged the horses forward, a swift pace, but one that the horses could keep for a long while, into the heavier shadows of the hills.

He turned toward the east, and as he expected, Selena gasped.

"You are going the wrong way!"

He knew what he was doing and ignored the young girl's cry.

"Haldir," she hissed again, kicking her horse to ride beside him. "This will lead you further into Harad. Are you insane?"

He glanced at her with a faint sense of disdain, annoyed that she did not trust him. "I know what I am doing, child. Do not argue with me."

Selena opened her mouth and then shut it with a click of teeth. He tried not to smile at her irritation, but she sensed his amusement and scowled, leaning forward to glare at him, her face illuminated by the bright moonlight. "You are going further into danger, Elf. Do you seek to kill us all so quickly?"

He sighed, and stopped, glancing back to check on the younger child. Sanaa sat huddled over the neck of her horse shivering. They would not be able to ride as long as he would have liked. They needed a fire and water to clean up. He did not like the idea of the filth that the water had left behind on him and the two girls, and more importantly, in the wounds that were not yet healed. "Selena, the Haradrim know we have escaped. Their first thought will be that we will flee to Lórien by the most direct route. I choose to travel a different way, in hopes that it will give us more time."

She stared at him, flushing a bright red. "I'm sorry. I didn't think about that."

He urged the horses on again, looking back as she fell in behind him. "That is why I am leading and not you."

He heard her choke back some retort, and had to smile, knowing she would argue again. It was her nature, he thought with a sigh. It would be a long journey back to Lórien, one he knew he would travel with both regret and relief. Regret, as well as a continuing anger at his inability to finish his dealings with Arad, and relief to have escaped alive. He sighed faintly, his jaw tight. Arad would find his end at the point of Haldir's sword, some day, some how. He had only to find the patience to wait. The Valar would send him the chance again, he knew it, and holding on to that belief, the March Warden straightened, glancing back once at the two young girls now in his care, and knew he had more important things to do first.

xxx

Ferodir tossed restlessly in bed. A look of pain marred his handsome features as sensations came drifting into his slumber like invisible tendrils that wrapped about him, bringing with them a host of unpleasantness.

He came awake with a start, one hand automatically searching his ribs for the source of the pain he felt. His hand fell back to rest on the sheet as awareness flooded through him. The pain was not his.

It belonged to his life long friend Haldir.

Sitting up, he flung off the covers and stood unsteadily; the room swam in and out of view for a moment as Haldir's exhaustion rolled over him in full force.

Ferodir dragged his hand wearily across his brow, gently rubbing the area between his brows as he sought to distance himself from the empathic vibrations he was receiving.

He held tightly to the fleeting visions as they raced away from him, determined to try and follow them back to Haldir, but it was no use. . . the connection was broken.

Cursing, he moved forward to light a candle, more as an effort to chase away the darkness that gripped his heart, than as a need to see. His eyes could see perfectly well no matter how dark it was.

His body felt battered, as if he had personally fought in a battle himself and lost. This did little to reassure him. Haldir must have been through quite an ordeal for his friend to pick up on his injuries as strongly as he just had.

He moved wearily towards his wardrobe, turning all that he had seen and felt over in his mind. Even though it was nearing dawn, and the sun had not risen, he must seek out Galadriel.

She might have some insight on Haldir's whereabouts and condition.

Ferodir had spent the better part of the night fighting the darkness that plagued his dreams as they wove in and out of his senses. One hand still throbbed from an earlier awareness of Haldir's broken hand and fingers. His stomach was queasy from the night's ordeal, and his body ached with pain and fatigue, sensations he knew came from Haldir, as well as his personal reaction to the empathic connection.

Ignoring the early hour, and his exhaustion, Ferodir dressed quickly and left.

Passing the many Sentinels that stood guard quietly on the stairs and walkways of Lorien, the empath quickly made his way up the long flight of stairs that led to Galadriel's private quarters.

He was not surprised to find Lurien standing guard as he approached the final staircase.

The sentinel inclined his head, bidding him entry. "She has been expecting you."

Ferodir nodded briefly, still attempting to sort out the impressions in his mind, and hurried up the steps into the large entry of the Lord and Lady's talan. Galadriel stood waiting, dressed in a silver dressing gown, her hand at her throat, her sapphire eyes glittering impatiently.

"You have sensed Haldir?" she said even before he shut the door.

Ferodir smiled faintly as he heard Lurien sigh quietly from the bottom of the stair. The Elf was a fierce and loyal guardian, and anything that made the Lady of Light worried transferred just as strongly to the sentinel.

He bowed slightly, a hand pressed to his still aching forehead in greeting. "I have sensed much about Haldir, my Lady, and little of it good."

She waved a hand toward a small bench, sitting next to him. "What have you felt, Ferodir?"

The empath shuddered briefly, looking up, beyond the clear glass that covered the ceiling to the stars high above, glittering in the velvet darkness of night. "I feel exhausted, Galadriel, as if I have been driven far too hard. I know it is not me, but Haldir, but if he feels what I do, if not more as I fear, I am amazed he is still alive."

Galadriel turned away slightly, fingers pressed to her lips. It was an unusual expression of worry from her, one Ferodir rarely ever saw. "He is alive, however …" she began.

"He is alive and intent on escape as well," Ferodir agreed. He folded Galadriel's hand in his, startled to find it cold. "He has been hurt, beaten often I am sure. A broken hand he has healed, but he has countless bruises and more. I do not think he has the energy to heal anything else. If he is harmed further, I do not know if he can withstand such a blow."

Galadriel frowned, the expression marring the perfect planes of her face, concern darkened her gaze. "But he is still alive," she insisted softly. "You know Haldir, he will persevere."

Ferodir ran a hand through his long dark hair with a rueful laugh. "I do know Haldir. And he will escape somehow."

Galadriel closed her eyes. "Orophin saw a girl, a young girl, in my mirror. Perhaps you could sense her."

Ferodir shook his head. "I do not know of her. It is possible she is tied to him in some way."

Galadriel turned suddenly, her eyes narrowed. "She is a key; we have only to find out for what."

"Shall I try to sense him again?" Ferodir offered, although the effort would tax him greatly, he would do it if she thought he might connect once more.

The Lady of Light gripped his hand tightly. Ferodir felt the warmth and energy she sent flood into his hands, his heart. "You must try."

He closed his eyes, pushing aside the weariness, and felt nothing. But then, suddenly, he sat up, blinking rapidly. Perhaps it was Galadriel's strength that boosted his own, or Haldir's determination, but he saw Haldir clearly, with the waning moon behind him. He pressed his fingers to his temple, his jaw clenched as Galadriel watched him intently.

"He is going east, Galadriel. Rumil must head east and then north. He intends to cross into Mordor, and then to Ithilien."

Galadriel had risen to her feet, hand lifted to call Lurien, but the sentinel was already there.

"Get me the falcon, Lurien," Galadriel began, but turned as Orophin burst through the door.

"I dreamt of him, he is free," Orophin panted, leaning on his knees. "I know he has escaped."

Ferodir lifted a brow, folding his arms over his chest. "And why did you not dream of such things sooner. I have felt Haldir's exhaustion. He will be hard pressed to get far."

Orophin straightened, his blue eyes flashing fire. "He will make it," the warden declared harshly, "if I have to find him and carry him home."

Celeborn appeared in the doorway from the inner sanctuary, pulling on a silk robe. "It seems that things have progressed finally. Orophin, you will head to Ithilien. You will need several with you, the road is dangerous."

"I will go, if you will allow it," Lurien said suddenly, his gaze intent on Orophin. "Haldir has been a good friend. There are few wardens available to go as quickly as you will need." The sentinel turned toward Galadriel, "with your permission of course."

Galadriel smiled faintly. "Given."

Orophin nodded, clasping Lurien's wrist in a strong grasp of thanks. "I have another in mind as well. . ."

"You should take Ferodir," Celeborn decided, ignoring the empath's sudden surprise. "He can connect with Lady Galadriel and guide both you and Rumil."

Ferodir sighed faintly, bowing as Orophin turned toward him. "Indeed, I would hate to be left behind."

xxx