A/N: Formatting again. I'm sorry if I messed it up in the previous chapters; I might have forgotten some of the tricks.

Chapter 14: Rescue's on the way

'Look, we even get a greeting committee,' Aragorn commented as they strode towards the house. 'How nice. That saves us the effort of knocking.'

Elladan glanced nervously at the three men that had just emerged from the house. 'Have you got any idea how to approach them, Estel?' he whispered without turning his head.

'Not really,' Aragorn had to admit.

'What?'

'I'll make up something,' Aragorn quickly assured his brother. 'Trust me.' He thought for a short while. 'I am pretty certain that we're dealing with a band of slavers here. I hope to make them believe that we're working in the same "profession".'

'We're walking on extremely thin ice there, Estel.'

'I know. Better keep your sword loose in its sheath, muindor nîn, just in case things come down on us.'

Elladan nodded and they walked the short rest of the way in silence. When they were but a few feet away from the house, one of the men standing in the doorway called out to them.

'Who are you, and what brings you here?' he asked.

Aragorn stepped a bit nearer.

'Good evenin', neighbor. We's seen yer men passin' by some days ago an' we wuz jist a-thinkin' we'd ask iffn y'd p'rhaps take two more men into that there group o'yers.'

Elladan nearly bit his tongue trying to keep a straight face. Where, in the name of the Valar, had his brother gotten that from?

'And what makes you think we would?' the man asked, sounding dubious, but the two could see he was at least mildly interested.

Aragorn shrugged. 'Nothin' in fact. We's jist thought we'd give it a try, y'know.'

The man laughed. 'I like you,' he stated. 'Perhaps we've even got a place for you. I lost one of my men only recently.' He paused shortly. 'What's your name and what sort of work did you plan to do when staying with my men?'

Aragorn shrugged yet again. 'We'll do any kinda work we kin find. I'm Strider, an' m'friend here, kinda silent one, 's named Atan.'

'Why doesn't he speak?' one of the other men asked suspiciously.

'Don't rightly know,' Strider confessed. 'Mebbe he jist don't want to. Mebbe he cain't. He never talked nothin' in the five years I knows 'im.' He grinned. 'Kinda good thang is, he don't stort no stupid discussions.'

The men grinned as well. 'Well then, Strider,' the one who had first spoken said. 'You said you would do all kinds of work? Where are you most skilled?'

'Ez I wuz a-sayin', we do everythin', but we're good with knives an' all sortsa shorp thangs.'

'Very good,' the man said. 'But before you agree to stay you have to know that once you are one of my men, you'll stay with my men unless I give you leave.' He grinned. 'Which seldom happens. At least not in the usual way.'

'Well,' Strider grinned back at the man, though he didn't feel like grinning at all, 'like that we ain't got the trouble o'tryin' t'find a new place t'stay an' such.'

Elladan noticed with relief that the men weren't half as wary as he had expected. With his simple and open behaviour, Aragorn had talked them into trusting the two at least a bit.

The elf could but admire his brother. He knew he would never have been able to conceal his true feelings towards the men enough to talk to them in such an open and friendly way. He was glad he wouldn't have to talk, since he wasn't entirely sure he could hold back from saying what he really thought, which could turn out disastrous for Estel and him in their current situation. So he contented himself with watching the amazing skill his brother showed in talking people into trusting him.

The man that had spoken to them cast another scrutinizing glance at the two, then nodded.

'Agreed,' he said. 'If you accept the conditions, I'll take you in.' He signalled to the two to follow him into the house.

'Come, I'll introduce you to my men.'

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Elrohir rode in a swift trot, crossing the open lands at a quick and steady pace; the four now riderless horses of his companions followed close behind. There was a forest not far ahead and the elf wanted to reach it as soon as possible to get out of the open. He knew riding through the woods would slow him down, but he was also aware that there could very well be some of the slavers around and he didn't want to risk being found, and perhaps captured as well. It would destroy all hope for help from the outside for his captive friends.

Only a little later he found his fears confirmed as an arrow flew past him, missing him by inches. He turned his head and cursed silently. There were four men riding some ways behind him, all armed with bows, and they were gaining on him fast. There was no doubt they wanted to either catch or kill him, and neither of those two options appealed to him very much.

Ducking another arrow Elrohir looked forward again. The forest was near; he had to reach it before they managed to shoot him off the horse.

'Noro lim!' he called to the horses. 'Boe ammen esgal e ngelaidh!' / Run fast! We need the cover of the trees/

The horses darted forward at a gallop. Elrohir held tightly onto Fuintor's mane, rather lying than sitting on his black steed's back as he tried to dodge the now numerous arrows the men fired at him.

Every now and then he turned, cursing under his breath as he saw them drawing nearer and nearer. He just couldn't let himself be caught now!

Finally he rode into the forest, disappearing out of sight of his pursuers at least for a while. But he knew that wouldn't last for long. They would try to chase him down even between the trees. He somehow had to trick them into giving up, but how?

One idea occurred to him, but it would need all of his skill, and the help of all five horses. He gently brought Fuintor to a halt.

'Thelal nin tharo?' he asked the horses quietly. / Will you help me/ They neighed and snorted in agreement. 'Lasto,' he said. 'Boe din tegi na vist. Din rugo. Pado vin nyrn, a caro únad ethin faro len anann. Ae ú-ben len ruitha, pado na Anor.' /Listen. We have to delude them. Confuse them. Go labyrinthine ways, and make it impossible for them to chase you for a long time. If no one follows you, walk towards the sun. /

He shortly stroked each horse's head. 'Hannon len, mellyn nîn.' / Thank you, my friends/ he said. 'Ego si.' / Now go. /

The horses galloped off in different directions almost in the same moment that the men broke into the forest.

'Follow him!' one of them shouted. 'Don't care for the horses!'

Elrohir had expected that. He led them this way and that in full gallop every now and then ducking a low branch, disappearing between the trees just to turn up somewhere else mere moments later, just in sight of his pursuers.

He hoped that with the time he could shake them off, but the men were not confused that easily. When after a while he turned and saw that they were still behind him, he decided that it was high time to try something else.

He turned sharply to get out of sight and nimbly pulled himself up into a tree. 'Pado lim.' / Go on/ he told Fuintor. 'Tano sa nach ennas, dan ú-dano sa cúlach ú-ben. / Show that you're there, but don't show that you bear no one. /

Hidden between the branches he watched as his horse trotted off before he turned westward to find the others.

Suddenly, after he had gone some ways through the trees, he heard hoof beats coming from behind him. He turned, but he did not, as he had expected, see two of his own horses, but instead two of the men coming towards him.

'There! There he is!' one of them shouted, pointing at him. Elrohir cursed. He had not expected them to split up already. Obviously they had seen that Fuintor carried no rider.

That was not good. The trees around him didn't give much shelter; it was hardly possible to hide in them. He had to reach some that could protect him more.

Turning, he saw them coming closer, getting ready to shoot at him again, and decided to make a dash for it.

'Get down elf, or we'll shoot you out of the trees!' one of them shouted after him as he fled. He ignored him, but he could not ignore the arrows that now came flying towards him. He ducked and dodged them the best he could, but it was not good enough.

Elrohir let out a cry of surprise and pain as an arrow pierced his leg, throwing him off balance. Unable to catch himself he fell, crashing onto the ground right before the men's horses.

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TBC… you know that one.