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 Kinsman (emi_kins@yahoo.com)

21.

Had Lord Elrond heard her when she called after him on the night of the battle? Did he know that she loved him, or did her harsh words ring in his ears still? These thoughts haunted Elenath whenever she tried to sleep, and suddenly she wanted to live. She wanted to live at least long enough to tell him how much she loved him. For surely Dimnarion had lied when he told her Lord Elrond had fallen and surely now her grandfather paced his throne room, wondering what had befallen her.

"Water…" she whispered to the Orcs. "Please… bring me water."

"Finally, the wretch is coming around," spat the Orc's leader, for up until that point she had refused any nourishment they offered and they'd had to force-feed her. A difficult task when they had been instructed not to harm her. "Here, drink this. It's about time you came to your senses."

She allowed them to tip a cup to her lips and drank greedily.

That evening, or what she assumed must be evening, for the Orcs had bedded down and set watchmen, Elenath closed her eyes and prayed earnestly.

"Iluvitar," she whispered, "Creator of all… perhaps I am acting above my station to address you thus, for most of my kind pray only to the Valar. But the Valar seem far away and I feel that I am beyond their help. I… I know that I have been terribly prideful and that's how I got into this mess, but if you care for your creation at all, please help me." She closed her eyes. "Please help me…"

Inexplicable peace fell upon her and she slept, though she did not know for how long, until a still, quiet voice and a gentle touch woke her. "Elenath… Wake, Child. My Father has heard your prayer and sends me to bring comfort."

Sitting up rapidly, it took all of her self-control not to cry out with surprise. She had seen very few Men in her lifetime, yet here one was, dark skinned and dark haired, sitting next to her in the dark. Only the dark did not seem so dark anymore, and the Orkish guards seemed not to notice that anything was amiss. He held out his hands to her – callused, scarred hands, and she took them warily though her wrists were still bound together.

"Who are you?" she asked. "Why have you come?" She looked into his brown eyes – eyes that shown with more love than she could ever fathom.

"I am Iluvitar's son," he replied, "Someday you shall come to know me more fully, Child. But for now, I come only to bring you hope. The one that you call Dimnarion will be here ere morning. He will try to claim what is not rightfully his and you must resist him. Fight bravely though the odds may seem impossible. For Legolas of Mirkwood has rallied a party from Rivendell and they track the evil one even now."

"Legolas…" she whispered, a faint smile touching her lips briefly. "But Lord, how am I to fight when I have no strength?"

"My strength I give to you," he replied, leaning near to kiss her forehead. "This advice I also give to you. Never doubt Calmakil, for the Blade speaks only the words and does only the will of my Father."

To her surprise, she felt stronger at once. Indeed, she felt better than she had since the Orcs wounded her. "Can you loose my bindings?" she asked.

Iluvitar's son smiled. "Indeed, Child, I am in the business of setting captives free." He snapped his fingers over the rope and the weight of it disappeared, though her eyes told her it was still there. "You are free when you choose to be. Only do not flaunt your freedom or the enemy will bind you again, even more tightly."

"What kind of magic is this?" she asked, her blue eyes wide with wonder. "Are you a Wizard?"

"Indeed no, Elenath. I have told you who I am. And now I must go. Be not afraid for my Father has heard your cry for help."

***

"He came this way not two hours ago," said Legolas softly to the small band of Elves that stood around him. Gandalf, also, was there. "Come, we must make haste."

Not many hours had passed since Merethiel had come to him with the news of Dimnarion's departure. Imediately, he had gone to Lord Elrond to request help in tracking. The Lord of Rivendell had granted it immediately.

"If you bring her back alive," Lord Elrond had said in desperation, "then whatever treasure of Rivendell you desire shall be yours, Prince Legolas of Mirkwood."

Legolas knew what treasure of Rivendell he desired more than any other, but he also knew that Elrond would not consider Elenath a treasure to be parted with. Still, he had to try. He had to save her if he could.

When he had set out, the despair must have been apparent on his face. Merethiel had approached him and whispered, "I have heard your nickname for her, Your Highness. Remember this and take heart: a willow may bend and sway with the storm, but her heart is strong and her branches are not easily broken."

The prince had come near to tears then, but he had nodded and given the Lady an emotional embrace. "I will bring her back alive, Lady, or I will not come back at all."

She had squeezed his hands lightly and stood on tip-toe to kiss his cheek. "My hope goes with you, my lord."

The trail was relatively easy to follow, much to Legolas' relief. His bodyguard had never walked with the lightness of the Elves and for this the prince was more than thankful. At one point he stopped upon the path, for he saw that Dimnarion had as well. There the undergrowth and old leaves had been disturbed, as if something had been hastily buried. Brushing the mess aside, he gasped to see Calmakil glinting in the sun.

"Alas!" he cried, his heart rending within his chest. "Alas! She would never have parted with the Blade unless her condition was dire." Reaching out to take the Sword as he crouched on the path, he let fall only a few tears. The sparkling droplets landed upon the blade and glinted in the sun so brightly that he had to look away, his gaze then landing upon a willow swaying to and fro in the wind. "But while I still have breath, I still have hope!" he exclaimed, standing and sheathing Calmakil at his side. "Onward!"

Speedily they ran on the path marked by footprints and broken branches until the sun set and they could go no further.

***

"Ah, my lovely prize!" exclaimed Dimnarion, looking down upon the sleeping form of Elenath. He kicked her solidly in the ribs to wake her. "On your feet, wench!"

She struggled to her knees, her hands and feet still bound, gasping with the pain in her chest where he had kicked her. She was not fast enough, and he grabbed her by the hair to pull her up the rest of the way, slamming her against the wall of the cave. "Where is your pretty Sword now?" he sneered. "It seems you've lost it and you've no one here to help you!"

Her eyes narrowed and she spat at him. "I don't see the Sword among your possessions either, Dimnarion. Would it not tolerate being handled by such a coward as yourself?"

The comment earned her a vicious cuff across her face. His hand wrapped around her neck and he squeezed until the color drained from her face. "I am in charge here," he growled. "And I will be treated with respect. Is – that – understood?"

He let go and she gasped for air, a wretched sound coming from her throat as she sank to the ground again, coughing and sputtering.

"Stand up!" he commanded when she had had a moment to recover.

Elenath unsteadily obeyed. "What do you want from me?"

"Well now," chuckled Dimnarion. "That is an interesting question. At first I wanted only to kill you and to teach you a lesson."

"What lesson?" She glared at him.

"About why females should not be warriors. Do you want to know why?"

She refused to answer.

He called two Orcs over and commanded them to hold her in place while he pressed himself against her, whispering in her ear. "Because this is what happens to them when they are captured in battle." His hands roamed to places they had no right to be as he kissed her deeply.

Just when she thought that she could take no more, he backed away and grinned. "Yes, I was going to teach you a lesson, and then I was going to kill you and get rid of that Sword."

"What is it you want now?" she demanded.

The look of utter glee upon his face terrified her more than anything he had done thus far. "A child," he said. "A child for me to teach the Old Ways of Dark Magic! You will provide this child, and then… then I will kill you."