Title: Pseudonym

Author: Lauren

Editor: Ed the Editor (whom really exists)

(for disclaimer and summary see chapter 1)

To my reviewers:

Lady of Middle Earth - *cry* My first reviewer. Wow, I'm gonna be famous. Thank you so much for your opinion. I'm gonna keep that in mind as I last-minute edit the chapters.

Innocent_Immortal - I don't have much to say to you. Except for that you already edited it. When it was in the notebook. Then I let you borrow it on a floppy disk, after I had typed it. Why didn't you edit it then? Hmmm? I will update every Friday, unless you start updating your story. And since that will never happen, I'm free to update every Friday, or Saturday, as is the case with this one chapter. (What can I say? It was the hottest day of the year yesterday, I went swimming and seeing as how it was the 4th of July, I went and watched fireworks all night long.) Oww! My fingers! He he.

Anyways...on with the chapter...

~*Chapter 2: The Hunter and The Hunted*~

Lawr had run. The trees and bushes blended together in the early afternoon as the man ran along on heavy feet. Lawr had been running since early that morning. He was glad of the rain that had started around midnight. It may wipe out his tracks and throw his hunter off. He knew Vanwathulë would only send one person after him, Duriel. He felt a numbing terror compress his aching chest. How would he escape the most skilled tracker in the clan?

The weariness was pressing upon him; he was leaving a trail that anyone could follow. The sound of the river in the distance drove him onward. It was the only place he would have a chance at outwitting his pursuer. The river noise grew loud, his heart rising at the sight of the river.

He leaped into the shallows and began walking north. He scanned the banks for unusual movement as he thought about why he was in the cold and wet instead of back at home.

Mutiny had been spreading in the camp for the past eighteen years, ever since Vanwathulë had brought that elf back with him and christened her Duriel. They were all afraid to try anything, for there were still those loyal to Vanwathulë. Lawr's group had been the first to go further than just curse the name Vanwathulë. They had planned to assassinate his precious, so-called daughter, but they had been found out and now Lawr was running for his life.

He hated elves, especially Duriel. Ever since the night they had to make the long march down to Midneve. They hadn't been allowed to touch anything. Get the child and get out, those were the strict orders given to the small band of men. What was so special about her anyway? All she had managed to do was make his life miserable.

He checked the eastern bank carefully before hiding under some bushes. He figured he was far enough away to take a quick rest and not get caught. Besides the sun was beginning to set on the horizon. The dark cover of night would allow him so rest without being seen.

Throughout the night he slept on. He was awakened in the early morning by the sound of a bird twittering nearby. The first thing Lawr saw upon opening his eyes was a pair of worn, muddy, dark green boots. He reached for his blade, only to find it wasn't there. He slowly raised his eyes. Standing not a foot away was a young elf, no older than eighteen years. She wore a dark green tunic with a light green under shirt and dark brown leggings. Strands of her dark hair hung in front of her piercing gray eyes. She carried a bow, upon which an arrow was strung. A finely shaped elvish blade hung at her side. She leaned down so his ear was next to her mouth; the arrow still pointed straight at his heart. The voice he heard was one that he had heard many times before, but still chilled his blood.

"No one escapes from me." A smiled played on her lips as she roughly lifted him to his feet.

~**~

Rahane sat silently by a fire surveying the activity of the camp around him. He watched as a brawl broke out. No one would actually die, however. He didn't allow it in his unit. His hope to watch the scuffle was diminished however, as a young elf walked gracefully into the camp. She was pushing a man in front of her. His hands were roughly tied behind his back, Lawr. Rahane himself had silently supported Lawr's plan to murder the elf brat. Of course, others had destroyed any hope of the plan actually being put into action.

Several men took the prisoner from Duriel. Much to his dismay, she came and sat down across from him. " I see you made it back *with* the runaway," he said this purposely trying to make her mad and leave him alone.

"And I see your still letting others do the hard work," she snapped back.

"You should gather your belongings. We need to leave soon; we wouldn't want your father worrying about you because you've been gone for more than a day's time." He smirked when she gave him a death stare. Her father constantly worried and treated her like a child.

"We will leave *when* I feel like leaving and not before."


"Last time I checked, elf, I was still in command of the troop."

Before Rahane knew what was happening, an elvish dagger was stuck next to his head in the trunk of the tree and an arrow was pointed just between his eyes. All activity in the camp ceased, as all eyes were turned upon the pair. "You would do well to keep your mouth shut." She released the tension on her bow and pulled the dagger out of the tree, sheathing it. She stalked off towards her tent before he had a chance to reply.

~**~

Elenion's elvish eyes quickly caught the flash of light brown darting through the trees. A nice prize that would make, his father would be proud. This was the prince's first hunting trip alone. He wanted to kill a large deer to prove that he was just as good as anyone else was.

He quickly and quietly followed the deer a good way before it stopped to take a drink at a little stream. He quietly took aim. Elenion knew that if he missed, there would be no second chance, but fortunately his arrow flew straight and true. It pierced the deer in the neck. Elenion smiled to himself, his best catch yet.

He walked ahead into the clearing. As he bent down to inspect the deer he felt the sharp point of an arrow in the back of his head. He froze in place as a deep voice whispered in his ear, "Get up."

TBC...

~**~

A/N: Ohhhhhhh...my first cliffy. I am so proud of myself. *cry* Cya next week!