RATING: PG-13

DISCLAIMER: The characters from Lord of the Rings and their wonderful world are borrowed from J.R.R. Tolkien. The plotline and all other characters are copyright 2002 Emily (emi_kins@yahoo.com)

20.

It was a dark new-moon night when the terrifying alarm sounded in Rivendell. Orcs! Why they had dared to cross the borders, no one knew, yet they had. Elenath scrambled from her bed and dressed quickly, donning her armor and Calmakil and rushing into the hallway where she ran into her grandfather.

"You will stay here," he said, escorting her quickly back toward her room.

"I will not! My place is on the battlefield. I am the Sword bearer!"

Elrond shook his head "You are not yet fully recovered. You will stay here, Elenath. That is my command."

"But-"

"Do not waste my time with your protests. The battle is nigh! Do as I say."

"Yes, my lord," she ground out between clenched teeth, turning to leave.

He caught her arm and pulled her near for a brief moment. "Elenath, do not be angry. I love you and only seek to protect you." With that, Elrond kissed her cheek and was gone into the dark night.

Touching the place he had kissed her, she called after him, "I love you too… Grandfather" before retreating to her chambers. What had she been thinking, to speak thus to her grandfather as he left for battle? He could be killed, and then she would have to live with the fact that her last words to him had been angry ones. "Forgive me," she whispered and sat upon her bed.

An hour passed; then two, and the armies of Rivendell did not return. Finally at the middle of the third hour, Dimnarion leapt into her bedchamber from outside, bruised and battered from battle. She scrambled to her feet in surprise. "What news?"

"It's your grandfather," he said between gasping breaths. "My lady, he has fallen and wants you by his side."

"No!" she cried. "What of the Orcs?"

"Defeated and driven back. But come quickly, Princess. Elrond fades quickly."

She followed without question into the pitch black Wood, and it was not until they were surrounded by Orcs that she realized her folly and drew her Sword. It shown with brilliant, angry light as Dimnarion pulled her near. "Do not worry, Lady," he whispered, "I will not let them hurt you." By the time the words had left his mouth, he had bound her hand and foot with strong cord. So quickly had it been done that she was left completely unaware and cried out in surprise.

"None of that now," he rasped in her ear, stuffing rags into her mouth and tying them in with a piece of cloth. "Now give me that wretched Sword!"

She held on with all her might, but he seized it easily, crying out in pain as it sent forth a burst of light. Dropping it on the ground, he kicked it and cursed. "Take her away. I'll deal with the Sword later."

Moments later, she was being carried away from her home by the foul- smelling, hideous Orcs, wishing that she had listened to Gandalf and to Calmakil.

***

Dimnarion ran swiftly back to the house of Elrond, mentally noting where the Sword lay so that he could retrieve it later. Arriving just as the rest of Rivendell's armies did, he fell into step behind Prince Legolas and joined in the celebration that had started.

"Victory is ours!" he laughed with his fellow guards. "Thanks be to the Valar!" Indeed he was giddy with his success. It had been far easier than he had expected.

The celebration was in full swing before they noticed that Elenath and her Sword were nowhere to be found. Frantically, the Elves searched for her throughout the palace and the gardens. Legolas even searched for her at the waterfall with no success.

"Stupid headstrong female!" Elrond ranted in his worry, "I told her to stay here, but apparently she could not! Idiot child! Not only has she lost herself, but Calmakil as well!"

Merethiel shook her head. "You're being unfair, Grandfather. She knows better than to go out on her own with Calmakil. She would rather die than risk the Blade."

"Well, she is not here, is she?" asked Elrond emphatically.

"She must have been taken against her will, or tricked," said Merethiel. "I refuse to believe otherwise."

The Lord of Rivendell let out a frustrated sigh. "No one rests until we find her. Do you understand?"

"Yes, my lord!" answered his army, scattering at once.

***

The Orcs carried her far; farther from home than she had been since her earlier adventures when she rode out with Gandalf. She was blindfolded, so she knew not exactly where they were, or in which direction they had gone, but they marched for the rest of that night and, stopping to rest during the day, through the next night as well.

What a fool she had been to take Dimnarion at his word. And her stupidity had caused her to lose the most cherished treasure of her people. She had failed them all. Even if she survived this ordeal, how could she ever face the Elves of Rivendell again?

"Why don't you just kill me and get it over with?" she asked the Orcs as they marched through the darkness.

"Aw, now, don't give up on life yet, Princess," said one of them roughly. "You have been chosen for a most honorable cause. And fear not, Master commands that you are not to be harmed."

They finally stopped in a labyrinth of caves where they lay her in a corner on a relatively soft pallet and removed her blindfold.

How long they kept her there, she knew not for she could see neither sun nor moon. But each time she was awakened by the harsh kick that the Orcs considered gentle, she wished only to die, to avoid ever having to face the shame that she had brought upon herself with her stupidity.

***

A week had passed since Legolas had last beheld Elenath's fair face and he was growing frantic. Upon the laurel bushes, buds had sprung. They would bloom within the next few days – yet the thought only distressed him further. She was gone, taken by Orcs, he believed. And he refused to accept that she was dead. Many dark nights he searched for clues to her disappearance though others had given up. And always he came back empty handed and frustrated.

Gandalf, too, kept hope alive. He said that he felt her living presence still, though he knew not where to find her. He had questioned Dimnarion closely, but had not gotten anywhere. After all, many warriors had vouched for his presence as they returned to Rivendell. Who, then, had done this? And for what purpose?

A grim silence had fallen upon Lord Elrond. Grief burned deep in his eyes and he refused to speak to anyone for days at a time. Late at night, he could be heard weeping in his chambers.

Merethiel paced restlessly in her chambers day and night, not understanding why most of the searches had stopped. She suspected Dimnarion more than anyone and watched him closely. She knew his schedule like the back of her hand; knew when he came and when he went. It was not until a week and three days later that her vigilance finally paid off. She watched, concealed by a tree, as he packed many things – food and clothing, including dresses and cloaks suitable for a female elf, and set off down the Northern path away from Rivendell.