Author's Note: Ok, so I have returned from Delhi and now I get a little respite before I am thrown into more competitions next year! So! Great news for you dear readers and this story - here's the next chapter!

Please review and enjoy!

The two headed downwards into the dungeons, thinking over their plan. They wouldn't look at her, wouldn't give her that chance. Instead they'd stand outside her door and ask the questions. They didn't expect any answers from her this time.

And they didn't get any.

Nerea stayed deathly silent throughout the whole procedure.

But it didn't daunt or hinder them, this was only the beginning. After all, their determination had won battles, and this was just a different kind.

Nerea was infuriated by herself.

She should have known better than to target the Elf Lord's adopted son. She should have waited and stuck with her original plan to capture the Elf and hold him against the Lord Elrond. She knew he'd do anything for a life, he'd proved that already, and she had decided to use his unflappable kindness against him.

Planned to anyway.

Why did she need to be so overambitious? She could have settled with the Elf she had, the blonde Amin, and let the confounded human go free to think he'd all but lost his friend to the Orcs then she could return to Rivendell with the Elf, saying they had both escaped from the Orcs, so she could get inside the walls of Rivendell as he'd surely offer her his aid. Then she could have waited to strike the Elven Lord with her questions and her power in his own realm, in his very own room, where he'd never in all his lifetimes suspect.

But she had to aim high.

She should have known that it wouldn't work. Hadn't her mother always told her so?

"You catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar, my love."

But she had chosen the vinegar and tortured the Man and Elf into co-operation. Honey wasn't in her nature.

But maybe it was about time that it was.

Now the Man and Elf were asking questions about it all.

Not taking any risks they'd decided to stay outside her door.

They gave her time between each question, as if she had answered out loud after all and they were considering her answer, or maybe they were leaving gaps in the hope that she'd be brave enough to answer.

"Why did you do it?""Why us?"

"Why Rivendell?"

"What was it all for?"

Nerea didn't answer a single one of the questions fired at her from the friends behind metal door number 7. Though her mind answered them, her mouth didn't see fit to voice the petty reasons and excuses that came to her. All her bravery used up., the hope uselessly hung in the gaps between each question.

She was angry, but not at them. These two friends didn't deserve the treatment she gave them. Especially the Elf. He just made the wrong friend.

Or maybe, he made the right friend and she made the wrong choice.

It was a good thing they couldn't see her, she decided. This way, they never saw her tears.

Legolas and Aragorn gave up after a ten minute session of unanswered questions and turned to leave when Legolas suddenly heard something. He stopped, his head whipping in the direction of Nerea's prison cell. He motioned for Aragorn to go on ahead, that he'd catch up with him. He wasn't even certain he'd heard anything at all how small a sound it had been.

He turned back to the door, waiting in silence, until, he heard it again.

The tiniest of sobs that anyone not listening for it would have missed.

He didn't know what to do. He had never been very good around crying people, be they Men, Women or Elves he was substantially awkward around tears. He was a warrior and although he was often called upon to give comfort, they never cried in front of their Prince and the comfort was never his alone to give.

He debated with himself. His benevolent nature prevented him from walking away, but at the same time, he wanted to. He wanted to dislike this Woman who had caused him and his friends so much pain. But he just couldn't.

He sighed, giving in and knocked her door.

"Nerea?" he asked, his voice gentler now, more concerned but also a slight more cautious.

Nerea started, she thought they'd gone. She'd heard their footsteps fade away, heard all noise stop and descend into silence in which she now seemed doomed to live her life.

Stabs of worry shot through her stomach. What could they want now?

"Nerea it's just me, Amin." he hesitated, "Are you alright?"

He could have kicked himself.

She stifled a dry laugh. Alright? She was stuck in a dungeon being interrogated by a lot of people every day, fed little, slept little and was bored a lot. She was totally fine.

She found herself shaking her head, even though he couldn't see her.

"Nerea?" Legolas prompted.

"Yes." Her mind said.

"No." Came out her mouth, so tiny and insecure sounding, not what she wanted to be to this , she slapped a hand over her mouth. She wouldn't speak again.

Legolas stood, awkward, outside her door. Now what should he say? Her voice sounded so weak, so hurt, so timid that it could have been mistaken for that of a child's.

He pitied her.

He delayed before speaking to her again, his voice slow, deliberate, giving nothing away, but the sympathy he felt for her lined his voice, cushioning her against the monotone sounding sentence.

"I'm sorry if we upset you with our questions." He said.

She gave another sniff, his compassion hurting more than their prying.

"We just want to know what we're suffering for."

She said nothing, her hand still clamped firmly over her mouth. She squeezed her eyes shut to try to prevent more tears from falling as the face of her reason lit her mind.

Her mother.

How much she had loved her mother. How much she had worshiped her, admired her. The beautiful red-brown shade of her hair when the sun hit it just right. How her eyes and mouth tilted up at the edges, giving her the look of someone who was always happy. How her singing would be the last thing she heard at night and the first thing she heard in the morning. How her hugs and kisses used to always make everything better. How her never ending kindness and patience would always linger on every heart she touched.

How much she had loved her mother was how much she hated the Elf that had left her behind when she needed her most.

"If it helps," He added, "I forgive you."

Surprisingly, he felt this to be the truth. He held no grudge against this girl, however much he wanted to.

His sympathetic words fell upon more attentive ears than he would have thought and it struck Nerea that in that one moment of compassion, this Elf, whom she had used, tried, wounded, trapped and all but broken, was the one that had begun to help her back together.