Author's note: iNsAnE oNe, thanks for the review. I'm afraid I can't use
your plot ideas because I've got a little, actually quite big, surprise
planned. You'll see why in a bit.
***
Elessar was afraid for his son. Three days had passed now since Eldarion had been taken from his chambers in the citadel. The guards had been found dead outside his door. Those who had been on duty at the entrances to the citadel were still being questioned. Elessar didn't care about that though. It didn't matter to him how the kidnappers had got in, all that mattered was that his son was found.
Arwen had taken the news badly. She spent much of her time crying, and when she wasn't crying she was in the nursery with their three-year-old daughter, Elmarith. Elmarith wanted Eldarion, and didn't understand why he never came to see her, or why her mother was so upset. How could they explain about kidnappers to a toddler?
Elessar had increased the guard on the nursery, making sure that his daughter had the best protection, but he couldn't help feeling nervous. He decided that he wouldn't stop feeling nervous until he went over there to check that she was all right. While he knew that he would be alerted if anything happened to her, he also knew that it had failed before. He wouldn't let his daughter be taken as his son had been.
He left the throne room, and entered the corridors that connected the rooms of the citadel. He had to get Eldarion home. He didn't know what he would do if he lost his son, and he was sure the grief would kill Arwen.
As he walked down the corridor, he had a prickling feeling in the back of his neck. He was being watched.
He put his hand on the hilt of his sword, which hung as always by his side. He slowed his face, listening intently, but was unable to hear any footsteps. Perhaps he had only been imagining it. He certainly couldn't see anyone nearby.
Suddenly, someone leapt on him from behind. An arm held Elessar's right arm to his side, preventing him drawing Anduril, another held a blade to his throat. Elessar moved quickly. He brought up his left arm to the arm that held the sword, and tried to pull it away. At the same time, he twisted, his attacker loosening his grip in surprise. Elessar brought his right elbow back into his attacker's face.
His attacker stumbled backwards, and Elessar pulled himself free. He turned, drawing Anduril in a fluid motion, facing his attacker. He was a man, cloaked, and with a hood covering his face. A sword was in the man's hand, and he leapt into the attack.
Elessar brought Anduril round to parry the first blow. He kicked out at the man's leg, but the man spun, dodging the kick almost as if he had been expecting it. Elessar feinted to the left, but the man brought his sword round to parry the actually blow he intended to strike on the right. This man seemed to know exactly what Elessar was planning to do. That meant he had to do something truly unexpected.
He lunged straight at the man's stomach, throwing all his weight against him. Both fell, Elessar landing on top of the attacker, pinning him with his body. The attacker's sword clanged on the stone floor, sliding out of reach. Elessar pressed Anduril against his throat, his free hand yanking down the hood so he could get a look at his attacker.
The man that looked up at him was familiar, despite the years that had passed since they'd last seen each other. Elessar's surprise was greeted by a glint of laughter in the man's eyes.
"Hello, Elessar," he said. Elessar kept the sword in its place, staring down into the eyes of one who had been his friend.
"Hello, Sal."
***
Author's note: Short, I know, but I just had to leave you with that cliffhanger. Review, or Sal will get it. Hey, I've already killed Pippin, you know I could do it.
***
Elessar was afraid for his son. Three days had passed now since Eldarion had been taken from his chambers in the citadel. The guards had been found dead outside his door. Those who had been on duty at the entrances to the citadel were still being questioned. Elessar didn't care about that though. It didn't matter to him how the kidnappers had got in, all that mattered was that his son was found.
Arwen had taken the news badly. She spent much of her time crying, and when she wasn't crying she was in the nursery with their three-year-old daughter, Elmarith. Elmarith wanted Eldarion, and didn't understand why he never came to see her, or why her mother was so upset. How could they explain about kidnappers to a toddler?
Elessar had increased the guard on the nursery, making sure that his daughter had the best protection, but he couldn't help feeling nervous. He decided that he wouldn't stop feeling nervous until he went over there to check that she was all right. While he knew that he would be alerted if anything happened to her, he also knew that it had failed before. He wouldn't let his daughter be taken as his son had been.
He left the throne room, and entered the corridors that connected the rooms of the citadel. He had to get Eldarion home. He didn't know what he would do if he lost his son, and he was sure the grief would kill Arwen.
As he walked down the corridor, he had a prickling feeling in the back of his neck. He was being watched.
He put his hand on the hilt of his sword, which hung as always by his side. He slowed his face, listening intently, but was unable to hear any footsteps. Perhaps he had only been imagining it. He certainly couldn't see anyone nearby.
Suddenly, someone leapt on him from behind. An arm held Elessar's right arm to his side, preventing him drawing Anduril, another held a blade to his throat. Elessar moved quickly. He brought up his left arm to the arm that held the sword, and tried to pull it away. At the same time, he twisted, his attacker loosening his grip in surprise. Elessar brought his right elbow back into his attacker's face.
His attacker stumbled backwards, and Elessar pulled himself free. He turned, drawing Anduril in a fluid motion, facing his attacker. He was a man, cloaked, and with a hood covering his face. A sword was in the man's hand, and he leapt into the attack.
Elessar brought Anduril round to parry the first blow. He kicked out at the man's leg, but the man spun, dodging the kick almost as if he had been expecting it. Elessar feinted to the left, but the man brought his sword round to parry the actually blow he intended to strike on the right. This man seemed to know exactly what Elessar was planning to do. That meant he had to do something truly unexpected.
He lunged straight at the man's stomach, throwing all his weight against him. Both fell, Elessar landing on top of the attacker, pinning him with his body. The attacker's sword clanged on the stone floor, sliding out of reach. Elessar pressed Anduril against his throat, his free hand yanking down the hood so he could get a look at his attacker.
The man that looked up at him was familiar, despite the years that had passed since they'd last seen each other. Elessar's surprise was greeted by a glint of laughter in the man's eyes.
"Hello, Elessar," he said. Elessar kept the sword in its place, staring down into the eyes of one who had been his friend.
"Hello, Sal."
***
Author's note: Short, I know, but I just had to leave you with that cliffhanger. Review, or Sal will get it. Hey, I've already killed Pippin, you know I could do it.