Melune was promptly yanked back by two elves who proceeded to tie her hands
behind her back. Her weapons were passed along behind her, elf to elf,
until they disappeared altogether in the mass of bodies that surrounded the
two women. Melune muffled a cry, but made no other sound. Some of the elves
jumped backwards with shocked eyes. Smoke was rising from where Melune's
arms were bound; the elven rope was burning her arms. Several other elves
rushed in and pulled Kizea to her feet in a similar manner. Without further
word, Melune was pushed through the crowds of elves and taken away down a
long, well-lit corridor at the furthest side of the chamber. As the lines
were being tightened around her hands, Kizea looked up to see Legolas
standing before her. A rope was also fastened around her neck. It seemed to
him that she had a frightened look in her eyes, as a cornered animal might
have, and he felt almost a sense of pity for her. He realized vaguely that
Kizea had, in effect, saved him. Under Melune's spell, he could not have
defeated her.
From somewhere behind, Kizea felt herself being pushed roughly forward. An elf who he did not recognize came into her view. He yanked on the rope that was wound about her neck, and it tightened further. Kizea struggled for a breath and began to walk forward, following her captors. As she was led from the throne room, she glanced neither to the right nor the left. Still, Kizea could feel the eyes of the room following her every movement, and she felt a sense of relief when she entered the passageway. As they walked, Kizea could hear the distinct sounds of water trickling, and she suddenly felt thirsty. She had not had a rest or a drink since evading the spiders beyond the wood elf encampments, and she was tired. Further into the recesses of the elven stronghold she was brought. Listening to faint footfalls, Kizea estimated about 4 other elves followed behind her, probably armed. She thought for a moment how she might escape, but it seemed impossible. Physically exhausted and bereft of her weapons, she had little with which to defend herself. Even if she were to manage to undo the elven ropes that tied her wrists together, she would have to retreat back the way she came, and then there was the matter of the main gates, which opened and closed with elven magic. It was too daunting a task for now.
She looked up briefly as she was led by several new passageways, which in fact led to the upper halls where the elves held their feasts. Kizea could hear the sounds of a lute being played, and she stopped short for a second. She stood rigid, staring up the path as she listened to the plaintive music. It was from something she had heard long ago, almost familiar, but she couldn't remember when or how. Legolas, who followed the detail as they proceeded, took notice of Kizea's apparent interest.
"Why would a Fendowan recognize elven music?" he thought with some curiosity, "Perhaps she has some knowledge of our customs here."
A tall, grim elf pushed her from behind and once again she stumbled forward, the vague memory retreating into nothingness. Downward they progressed into the cavern, until they approached several small cells carved into the walls. Kizea presumed that it would be here that she was to be kept. To her ears came the tinkling of chains being fastened. They walked by several cells, two where Melune's Fendowan guard were being held. Kizea perceived one warrior on her knees in the center of one such room, her hands unbound calmly laid upon her lap, just as a heavy wooden door slammed shut. Two elves stood an ominous guard to each door. Slowing her pace a bit, Kizea glanced to her right, where she saw Melune shoved against a wall with an elf securing her wrists behind her back with chains. A heavy bolt secured the chain to the wall, forcing Melune to stand erect. Kizea shook her head and smiled to herself. Such a simple detail would not hold Melune for long. Once again she was pushed roughly from behind, this time with something sharp. Kizea guessed aimlessly that it was most likely an arrow tip. Finally they came to the last empty cell within the row, furthest into the tunnel, and Kizea presumed that this was to be for her. She began to slow her pace again, only to be prodded forward once more, and she walked obediently past the doorway, even deeper into the darkened corridor.
Down they went into the tunnel system until at last there came a smaller, dimly lit passageway to the right. It was here that Kizea was forced to march. The path was short, leading into a smaller darker cell than the others had procured. Kizea momentarily thought that perhaps this was an execution chamber, but she quickly dismissed this in her mind. If the elves had meant to kill her, they had ample chance to do it in the throne room, where she was helpless and displayed to all the wood elves. No, Kizea decided, here was the place where she would be kept until the elf king decided what to do with her. She walked passively into the cell and turned pivoting around the face the doorway. There stood Legolas, with a drawn dagger in his hand. Although Kizea was not usually one to be frightened, the sight of the elf startled her and she instinctively stepped backwards, only to back herself into another elven guard. Kizea looked nervously around the tiny room. There were four other elves with her, including Legolas. Two had drawn arrows into their bows and they were aimed directly at her. The girl's eyes darted about the room, looking for an escape route. There was little fighting she could do against four armed elves with bound hands.
Seeing Kizea's distress, Legolas spoke quietly in elvish to his comrades, and to her surprise and relief they began to file out of the cell. He had not thought to quell her fear by sending his comrades away. She had not been affected in the least by the other Fendowan, even when an entire room full of elves came under Melune's will. Yet, Legolas was mildly fascinated by what he perceived to be the calming effect HIS voice seemed to have on her. He really had meant only to clear the room. But a dim perception had come to him as he walked slowly to her. It was as though she recognized his voice from somewhere. He quickly dismissed such a ridiculous notion. Until now, no elf had ever even seen a Fendowan warrior, much less become acquainted with one. He stepped closer, and the blueness of her eyes stared wearily at him. Kizea took another step back.
Quickly moving beside her, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned her around. Kizea stood rigid when she felt the softness of his hand sweep down her arm to her little hands. He placed one thin finger between a cord and her wrist, and deftly slid the dagger under the rope. Then pulling up in one swooping motion, he cut the cord that tightly bound Kizea arms, and she broke free. Kizea pulled her arms in front of her, and walked a few steps forwards before turning around again to face Legolas. As she watched the elf return his dagger to his belt she felt compelled to say something, but she didn't quite know what to say. Rubbing her wrists, Kizea smiled a little, though Legolas could not see it under her mask.
"Thank you master elf," she said, "I thought this was to be my execution chamber."
Legolas nodded slightly to her and turned to leave. Kizea watched him calmly walk to the door.
"Legolas," Kizea said again. The elf stopped short and turned to look at her. Kizea stood meekly in the center of the room, suddenly petite in stature to him.
"She is a curious thing," he thought to himself, "As savage and brave a warrior as I have seen, but such a small figure! Almost a child! I have not seen the like of it! How came she to such skill with a blade at so young an age?"
"Legolas," Kizea repeated, "Might I ask for a drink of water?"
Legolas cocked his head to one side. Although her face was hidden from him, Legolas could plainly see the sweat on the girl's hands as she rubbed her wrists.
"I heard long ago that a Fendowan warrior neither eats nor drinks," Legolas replied flashing her an amused smile. Kizea smirked.
"And I heard long ago that the immortal elves were winged and could fly," she answered. Another small smile escaped the elf's lips.
"That is a common rumor, but unfortunately not a true one," Legolas said, "I will have some water brought to you."
His slender hand pushed on the door, and it began to open. Kizea stepped forward, a new urgency in her voice. Legolas turned his head to listen to her once more.
"One more thing," Kizea said somberly, "You must deliver a message to your father, the king. Tell him that the guards standing before Melune's door must be deafened to her voice. This thing he MUST do, or not long will she be contained. He may yet save all of Middle-Earth for a while. The elves are very sensitive to the voices of the Fendowan."
"Yours as well?" he asked softly, "Will I be forced to fall under the spell of your voice?"
Then Legolas stepped from the room and closed the heavy wooden door behind him. It closed with a heavy sound, and Kizea stood for a few moments in wonderment. Then she turned her attentions to her own freedom. She knew there were at least two elves standing watch over her, but she was perplexed as to why she was brought this far into the caverns. At last she decided that the king did not wish her and Melune to be in close proximity to one another.
In later years, this same cell, deep within the elf king's stronghold, would imprison many celebrities of Middle-Earth, including the dwarf lord, Thorin, and eventually the creature Gollum, before his own escape with the aid of Sauron's orcs in the nearby wood.
Once the door had shut, Kizea sank to her knees. Her encounter with the elves had not turned out as she had hoped. Stripped of her precious daggers and her jewels, she had little to barter with now. Lifting her bruised hand she felt the smooth and cold contours of her golden mask. Pulling it slightly away from her face, she slipped a small end of her sleeve into the crack to wipe away the sweat underneath. Then she let it fall back into place. Focusing her attentions to her clothes, she held up a torn end of her tunic. Her once immaculate garments were now tattered with slash marks mingled with dirt, blood and bits of spider web. Kizea sighed, but there was nothing she could do about that now. Her hands dropped to her side. At least she was alive.
"Better to concentrate on how I may leave this place," she thought to herself. Standing up, she walked the whole length of the cell, feeling along the wall. The room was darkened but for a single torchlight that shined through a small window in the door. There was no stick of furniture in the cell, only the hard rock floor. Walking to the door she placed both hands lightly on the door, feeling the wood and the heavy metal scrolled hinges that held it in place to the wall. Almost at once, an elf's face peered at the tiny window, staring at her menacingly. Kizea sprang backwards towards the end of the cell, frowning.
"Hmmmm," she thought as the face disappeared from the window again, "Heavy oak wood, and those hinges. A metal I have not seen the like of before. I am not sure I can break this door. And the guards hear me plainly when I merely stand at the door! I will have to deal with them somehow as well. Cursed elves and their powers! Were that I was imprisoned anyplace but here! Whatever I do, I will have but one chance."
Some hours passed, though Kizea was not sure how long. At last, fatigue began to overtake her, and she knelt in the center of the room and closed her eyes. Kizea had half decided that the door would have to be open to offer her the best chance of escape. The tiny window in the door would be useless to mount an offensive. Even if she managed to reach out and grab a guard through the window, the other guard would simply break her arm on the other side. If she were a guard that is what she would do. And then all hope would be lost. She would have no chance of recovering the stone so injured. When water was brought to her she would leap against the door, disarm and overcome the guards in the hallway and make her escape through the tunnel. Perhaps, if she were fortunate, she could find the underground river that she constantly heard. It must flow to the outside of the caverns, she decided. Her one consoling thought was that Melune and her followers would fair no better, and she had seen Melune chained to the wall. Her rival would have the added task of breaking the strange metal chain and freeing her companions before making her own way out.
Slowly, sleep took over and the girl began to doze. The heavy sounds of the creaking door sometime later jerked Kizea awake.
"Too late! Too late!" she thought angrily, "They are already in the room! I must be prepared to instantly attack when the door begins to open the next time!"
Kizea stood up and tightened her eyes on the elves that now filled the dimly room. At first, she could see but four elves. One with a small wooden cup filled with water. Two elves with drawn bow and arrow, fixed upon her. The fourth was Legolas, holding a torch. Without a word, Legolas motioned to a shorter elf standing to his left to present the water to her. She looked at them all before holding the cup under her veil to smell the contents of the glass.
"It is not poisoned!" Kerrinais blurted out, irritated. The girl's eyes shot up at him.
"It is alright. Drink." Legolas said soothingly.
Kizea gripped the cup harder and turned her back to the group. Two elves immediately stepped forward, but Legolas held out an arm and they halted.
"The Fendowan cannot show their faces to anyone," Legolas said to them. Kizea turned her head slightly as she listened to him. The sound of Legolas's voice was soft and rhythmic and pleasing to the ear, and he had some knowledge of Fendowan culture, such as it was. Kizea felt pleased with Legolas. He was clearly empathetic to her.
Quickly she lifted her mask as far as it would go, and then tipping her head back slightly, she let the soothing water trickle into her parched mouth. But the happy moment was short-lived. Almost as soon as Kizea had finished her drink, she found her arms being pulled and bound in back of her again.
"King Thranduil wishes to speak with you once more," Kerrinais said as he began to roughly bind her hands together. Kizea struggled with the elves, but in her weakened state, she had not the power to overcome them. Once again, they had caught her by surprise. Angrily, she turned her attentions to Legolas.
"Am I to be brought again before your king bound like a dog?" she said in a low, angry voice.
Legolas pondered over her statement and then lifted his hand in the air. The elves stopped their attempts to subdue her.
"There is something of a serious nature that my father would discuss with you," Legolas began in a somber tone, "If you go from this cell unbound, as a free captive of the elves, will you hear my father speak? Will you vow to attempt no escape?"
Kizea threw the last of the ropes to the ground, rubbing her chafed wrists again.
"I will hear your king," Kizea replied, "I will vow no escape."
Kerrinais balked as he stepped back to where Legolas stood.
"She lies," he whispered angrily in elvish, "She will use the first chance she finds to kill as many of us as she can. Perhaps even your father! Her hands must be tied, Legolas!"
"I do not lie! I have given my word!" Kizea retorted indignantly, "As a Fendowan, I am bound by my honor to break no vow! I will not leave until I am let go from this place." Both Kerrinais and Legolas stared at her.
"You understand elvish," Legolas said, impressed, "From where did you learn elvish?"
"I have not learned it, I was born with it," Kizea replied soberly, walking past the group towards the door, "We are wasting time that we do not have. Take me to your king."
Her answer greatly perplexed Legolas, but he dismissed this thought as more pressing matters were at hand. The other elves looked on with wonder, also considering her understanding of the elven language with some astonishment. With Legolas leading the way, they marched back through the tunnel system to the throne room. At the opening to the upper cellblocks however, Legolas took a different path, leading farther to the right this time. Kizea noticed the widening of the hallways, and took note that the ever-present sounds of the river grew fainter and fainter. They climbed up a steep upturn in within the tunnel, walking past more cells. But these were not the ones where Melune and the other Fendowan were held. Still, there were guards at some of the cells. Some prisoners moaned or shouted from behind the bolted doors.
"I see the king keeps many guests," Kizea said sarcastically as they walked. The only answer to her comment was a pointed arrow that was shoved into her back, pushing her forward. She entertained a brief thought to turn around, grab the arrow and break it, but she had vowed her cooperation to Legolas. In truth, she would not have minded subjugating some of them, but then Legolas would no longer trust her. To this end, she thought, the price of losing his trust was not worth the temporary victory she would accomplish. She needed a champion on her side, and right now Legolas seemed to be the only one who sympathized with her. In the end, she decided that her battles were better placed elsewhere. Kizea, feeling debased and stripped of her dignity, continued on without further comment.
From somewhere behind, Kizea felt herself being pushed roughly forward. An elf who he did not recognize came into her view. He yanked on the rope that was wound about her neck, and it tightened further. Kizea struggled for a breath and began to walk forward, following her captors. As she was led from the throne room, she glanced neither to the right nor the left. Still, Kizea could feel the eyes of the room following her every movement, and she felt a sense of relief when she entered the passageway. As they walked, Kizea could hear the distinct sounds of water trickling, and she suddenly felt thirsty. She had not had a rest or a drink since evading the spiders beyond the wood elf encampments, and she was tired. Further into the recesses of the elven stronghold she was brought. Listening to faint footfalls, Kizea estimated about 4 other elves followed behind her, probably armed. She thought for a moment how she might escape, but it seemed impossible. Physically exhausted and bereft of her weapons, she had little with which to defend herself. Even if she were to manage to undo the elven ropes that tied her wrists together, she would have to retreat back the way she came, and then there was the matter of the main gates, which opened and closed with elven magic. It was too daunting a task for now.
She looked up briefly as she was led by several new passageways, which in fact led to the upper halls where the elves held their feasts. Kizea could hear the sounds of a lute being played, and she stopped short for a second. She stood rigid, staring up the path as she listened to the plaintive music. It was from something she had heard long ago, almost familiar, but she couldn't remember when or how. Legolas, who followed the detail as they proceeded, took notice of Kizea's apparent interest.
"Why would a Fendowan recognize elven music?" he thought with some curiosity, "Perhaps she has some knowledge of our customs here."
A tall, grim elf pushed her from behind and once again she stumbled forward, the vague memory retreating into nothingness. Downward they progressed into the cavern, until they approached several small cells carved into the walls. Kizea presumed that it would be here that she was to be kept. To her ears came the tinkling of chains being fastened. They walked by several cells, two where Melune's Fendowan guard were being held. Kizea perceived one warrior on her knees in the center of one such room, her hands unbound calmly laid upon her lap, just as a heavy wooden door slammed shut. Two elves stood an ominous guard to each door. Slowing her pace a bit, Kizea glanced to her right, where she saw Melune shoved against a wall with an elf securing her wrists behind her back with chains. A heavy bolt secured the chain to the wall, forcing Melune to stand erect. Kizea shook her head and smiled to herself. Such a simple detail would not hold Melune for long. Once again she was pushed roughly from behind, this time with something sharp. Kizea guessed aimlessly that it was most likely an arrow tip. Finally they came to the last empty cell within the row, furthest into the tunnel, and Kizea presumed that this was to be for her. She began to slow her pace again, only to be prodded forward once more, and she walked obediently past the doorway, even deeper into the darkened corridor.
Down they went into the tunnel system until at last there came a smaller, dimly lit passageway to the right. It was here that Kizea was forced to march. The path was short, leading into a smaller darker cell than the others had procured. Kizea momentarily thought that perhaps this was an execution chamber, but she quickly dismissed this in her mind. If the elves had meant to kill her, they had ample chance to do it in the throne room, where she was helpless and displayed to all the wood elves. No, Kizea decided, here was the place where she would be kept until the elf king decided what to do with her. She walked passively into the cell and turned pivoting around the face the doorway. There stood Legolas, with a drawn dagger in his hand. Although Kizea was not usually one to be frightened, the sight of the elf startled her and she instinctively stepped backwards, only to back herself into another elven guard. Kizea looked nervously around the tiny room. There were four other elves with her, including Legolas. Two had drawn arrows into their bows and they were aimed directly at her. The girl's eyes darted about the room, looking for an escape route. There was little fighting she could do against four armed elves with bound hands.
Seeing Kizea's distress, Legolas spoke quietly in elvish to his comrades, and to her surprise and relief they began to file out of the cell. He had not thought to quell her fear by sending his comrades away. She had not been affected in the least by the other Fendowan, even when an entire room full of elves came under Melune's will. Yet, Legolas was mildly fascinated by what he perceived to be the calming effect HIS voice seemed to have on her. He really had meant only to clear the room. But a dim perception had come to him as he walked slowly to her. It was as though she recognized his voice from somewhere. He quickly dismissed such a ridiculous notion. Until now, no elf had ever even seen a Fendowan warrior, much less become acquainted with one. He stepped closer, and the blueness of her eyes stared wearily at him. Kizea took another step back.
Quickly moving beside her, he placed a gentle hand on her shoulder and turned her around. Kizea stood rigid when she felt the softness of his hand sweep down her arm to her little hands. He placed one thin finger between a cord and her wrist, and deftly slid the dagger under the rope. Then pulling up in one swooping motion, he cut the cord that tightly bound Kizea arms, and she broke free. Kizea pulled her arms in front of her, and walked a few steps forwards before turning around again to face Legolas. As she watched the elf return his dagger to his belt she felt compelled to say something, but she didn't quite know what to say. Rubbing her wrists, Kizea smiled a little, though Legolas could not see it under her mask.
"Thank you master elf," she said, "I thought this was to be my execution chamber."
Legolas nodded slightly to her and turned to leave. Kizea watched him calmly walk to the door.
"Legolas," Kizea said again. The elf stopped short and turned to look at her. Kizea stood meekly in the center of the room, suddenly petite in stature to him.
"She is a curious thing," he thought to himself, "As savage and brave a warrior as I have seen, but such a small figure! Almost a child! I have not seen the like of it! How came she to such skill with a blade at so young an age?"
"Legolas," Kizea repeated, "Might I ask for a drink of water?"
Legolas cocked his head to one side. Although her face was hidden from him, Legolas could plainly see the sweat on the girl's hands as she rubbed her wrists.
"I heard long ago that a Fendowan warrior neither eats nor drinks," Legolas replied flashing her an amused smile. Kizea smirked.
"And I heard long ago that the immortal elves were winged and could fly," she answered. Another small smile escaped the elf's lips.
"That is a common rumor, but unfortunately not a true one," Legolas said, "I will have some water brought to you."
His slender hand pushed on the door, and it began to open. Kizea stepped forward, a new urgency in her voice. Legolas turned his head to listen to her once more.
"One more thing," Kizea said somberly, "You must deliver a message to your father, the king. Tell him that the guards standing before Melune's door must be deafened to her voice. This thing he MUST do, or not long will she be contained. He may yet save all of Middle-Earth for a while. The elves are very sensitive to the voices of the Fendowan."
"Yours as well?" he asked softly, "Will I be forced to fall under the spell of your voice?"
Then Legolas stepped from the room and closed the heavy wooden door behind him. It closed with a heavy sound, and Kizea stood for a few moments in wonderment. Then she turned her attentions to her own freedom. She knew there were at least two elves standing watch over her, but she was perplexed as to why she was brought this far into the caverns. At last she decided that the king did not wish her and Melune to be in close proximity to one another.
In later years, this same cell, deep within the elf king's stronghold, would imprison many celebrities of Middle-Earth, including the dwarf lord, Thorin, and eventually the creature Gollum, before his own escape with the aid of Sauron's orcs in the nearby wood.
Once the door had shut, Kizea sank to her knees. Her encounter with the elves had not turned out as she had hoped. Stripped of her precious daggers and her jewels, she had little to barter with now. Lifting her bruised hand she felt the smooth and cold contours of her golden mask. Pulling it slightly away from her face, she slipped a small end of her sleeve into the crack to wipe away the sweat underneath. Then she let it fall back into place. Focusing her attentions to her clothes, she held up a torn end of her tunic. Her once immaculate garments were now tattered with slash marks mingled with dirt, blood and bits of spider web. Kizea sighed, but there was nothing she could do about that now. Her hands dropped to her side. At least she was alive.
"Better to concentrate on how I may leave this place," she thought to herself. Standing up, she walked the whole length of the cell, feeling along the wall. The room was darkened but for a single torchlight that shined through a small window in the door. There was no stick of furniture in the cell, only the hard rock floor. Walking to the door she placed both hands lightly on the door, feeling the wood and the heavy metal scrolled hinges that held it in place to the wall. Almost at once, an elf's face peered at the tiny window, staring at her menacingly. Kizea sprang backwards towards the end of the cell, frowning.
"Hmmmm," she thought as the face disappeared from the window again, "Heavy oak wood, and those hinges. A metal I have not seen the like of before. I am not sure I can break this door. And the guards hear me plainly when I merely stand at the door! I will have to deal with them somehow as well. Cursed elves and their powers! Were that I was imprisoned anyplace but here! Whatever I do, I will have but one chance."
Some hours passed, though Kizea was not sure how long. At last, fatigue began to overtake her, and she knelt in the center of the room and closed her eyes. Kizea had half decided that the door would have to be open to offer her the best chance of escape. The tiny window in the door would be useless to mount an offensive. Even if she managed to reach out and grab a guard through the window, the other guard would simply break her arm on the other side. If she were a guard that is what she would do. And then all hope would be lost. She would have no chance of recovering the stone so injured. When water was brought to her she would leap against the door, disarm and overcome the guards in the hallway and make her escape through the tunnel. Perhaps, if she were fortunate, she could find the underground river that she constantly heard. It must flow to the outside of the caverns, she decided. Her one consoling thought was that Melune and her followers would fair no better, and she had seen Melune chained to the wall. Her rival would have the added task of breaking the strange metal chain and freeing her companions before making her own way out.
Slowly, sleep took over and the girl began to doze. The heavy sounds of the creaking door sometime later jerked Kizea awake.
"Too late! Too late!" she thought angrily, "They are already in the room! I must be prepared to instantly attack when the door begins to open the next time!"
Kizea stood up and tightened her eyes on the elves that now filled the dimly room. At first, she could see but four elves. One with a small wooden cup filled with water. Two elves with drawn bow and arrow, fixed upon her. The fourth was Legolas, holding a torch. Without a word, Legolas motioned to a shorter elf standing to his left to present the water to her. She looked at them all before holding the cup under her veil to smell the contents of the glass.
"It is not poisoned!" Kerrinais blurted out, irritated. The girl's eyes shot up at him.
"It is alright. Drink." Legolas said soothingly.
Kizea gripped the cup harder and turned her back to the group. Two elves immediately stepped forward, but Legolas held out an arm and they halted.
"The Fendowan cannot show their faces to anyone," Legolas said to them. Kizea turned her head slightly as she listened to him. The sound of Legolas's voice was soft and rhythmic and pleasing to the ear, and he had some knowledge of Fendowan culture, such as it was. Kizea felt pleased with Legolas. He was clearly empathetic to her.
Quickly she lifted her mask as far as it would go, and then tipping her head back slightly, she let the soothing water trickle into her parched mouth. But the happy moment was short-lived. Almost as soon as Kizea had finished her drink, she found her arms being pulled and bound in back of her again.
"King Thranduil wishes to speak with you once more," Kerrinais said as he began to roughly bind her hands together. Kizea struggled with the elves, but in her weakened state, she had not the power to overcome them. Once again, they had caught her by surprise. Angrily, she turned her attentions to Legolas.
"Am I to be brought again before your king bound like a dog?" she said in a low, angry voice.
Legolas pondered over her statement and then lifted his hand in the air. The elves stopped their attempts to subdue her.
"There is something of a serious nature that my father would discuss with you," Legolas began in a somber tone, "If you go from this cell unbound, as a free captive of the elves, will you hear my father speak? Will you vow to attempt no escape?"
Kizea threw the last of the ropes to the ground, rubbing her chafed wrists again.
"I will hear your king," Kizea replied, "I will vow no escape."
Kerrinais balked as he stepped back to where Legolas stood.
"She lies," he whispered angrily in elvish, "She will use the first chance she finds to kill as many of us as she can. Perhaps even your father! Her hands must be tied, Legolas!"
"I do not lie! I have given my word!" Kizea retorted indignantly, "As a Fendowan, I am bound by my honor to break no vow! I will not leave until I am let go from this place." Both Kerrinais and Legolas stared at her.
"You understand elvish," Legolas said, impressed, "From where did you learn elvish?"
"I have not learned it, I was born with it," Kizea replied soberly, walking past the group towards the door, "We are wasting time that we do not have. Take me to your king."
Her answer greatly perplexed Legolas, but he dismissed this thought as more pressing matters were at hand. The other elves looked on with wonder, also considering her understanding of the elven language with some astonishment. With Legolas leading the way, they marched back through the tunnel system to the throne room. At the opening to the upper cellblocks however, Legolas took a different path, leading farther to the right this time. Kizea noticed the widening of the hallways, and took note that the ever-present sounds of the river grew fainter and fainter. They climbed up a steep upturn in within the tunnel, walking past more cells. But these were not the ones where Melune and the other Fendowan were held. Still, there were guards at some of the cells. Some prisoners moaned or shouted from behind the bolted doors.
"I see the king keeps many guests," Kizea said sarcastically as they walked. The only answer to her comment was a pointed arrow that was shoved into her back, pushing her forward. She entertained a brief thought to turn around, grab the arrow and break it, but she had vowed her cooperation to Legolas. In truth, she would not have minded subjugating some of them, but then Legolas would no longer trust her. To this end, she thought, the price of losing his trust was not worth the temporary victory she would accomplish. She needed a champion on her side, and right now Legolas seemed to be the only one who sympathized with her. In the end, she decided that her battles were better placed elsewhere. Kizea, feeling debased and stripped of her dignity, continued on without further comment.