Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings or any characters and/or places thereof

Author's Note: Wow…this was going to be a relatively short chapter…so much for that!

Littlesaiyangirl: Estel was implying that the King was more or less using every child as a soldier, and he did this by unconsciously comparing that to his classes with the other Elflings.

Grumpy: They had to do something. It is not exactly honourable to sneak in after dark and bully your way back out, if you know what I mean.

Aratfeniel: Yes, you will find out. Sharp suspicions there!

Sailor-girl420: I know what you mean and it was purposely done. As Estel grows, the story changes. When he learns guarded speech, much more is left implied and unsaid.

*****

Estel awoke with a jolt and a gasp. Elemmiire! No…perhaps not…perhaps it had only been a childish dream. Certainly, that must be the case, thought Estel. It was simply not possible. No law would permit what he thought he had seen the night before. But what did he think he had seen the night before? Calmly, Estel collected his thoughts. In the dream, the others had been out in the hall. They had been fighting with a group of Men. The dream had not been particularly graphic, nor accurate, for Estel did not remember seeing most of the others, only Elemmiire remained clear in his memory. Estel got to his feet, thinking to tell Legolas of the strange phantasm.

"Oh, you are awake! Be careful, now. Honestly, I cannot imagine what they thought, a child such as yourself!" a young woman exclaimed, rushing over to Estel. Before he had time to question she was easing him back into bed.

"Stop it," Estel said, for the first time really seeing his surroundings. It was not the room he had fallen asleep in; it was a white room. Everything looked spotlessly cleaned, and smelled that way, too. There were five other beds in the room, evenly spaced along the walls, and windows at either end. It was more a hall than a room, and with a sinking feeling Estel realized that he had, in fact, not dreamed everything.

"Please, sit down," the young woman said. She sounded a little harassed, and so Estel did as he was asked. "Thank you. I would be in ever so much trouble otherwise!"

"Why?" asked Estel gently. Not only did he know that she might suffice as an ally to him, he truly felt sorry for this girl. "It is all right, you can tell me. Here, sit down." She nodded and sat beside him, uncomfortably. Estel looked at her, really looked, and saw an almost pretty youth with chestnut brown hair and lean, reddened cheeks. But it was her eyes where he saw more. He had seen those eyes before. More important, however, was learning of this girl. "Why are you so frightened?"

"When I--my mother, that is, she was a mortal, but my father was Elven. When I was born, the midwife left a knife over the fire, then used it to slice my ears so they would look normal. But then when I started to grow, the process was so slow that everyone knew. Before she died, my mother secured me an apprenticeship as a healer. It was the best she could have done for me," the girl said quickly.

"And your father?" asked Estel.

"I never knew him," she shook her head. "I was so lucky that they let me live…they might have killed me. As it is, I am not permitted in most public areas. When I walk down the streets, people sometimes throw things at me or shove me. But at the least, I have my life."

"That is terrible!" Estel exclaimed. "How could you endure such torment?"

"Because…why are you being so kind to me?" she asked suddenly. "You are a Man."

"The Elves raised me," he explained. "They are my family. And they taught me to respect and value all life."

"Then you know what it is to be inferior!"

"Inferior?"

"Yes. The Elves are inferior, everyone knows it--"

"That is not so."

"But surely…surely, they had you captive? It is all over the city, your story!"

Estel drew back, surprised. "My story?"

"Oh, yes! The story of how you were captive of the Elves, and they controlled your mind. Every one has heard of the way you fought to protect them last night. Some frown upon it, but I know that in truth it was not your doing, for no Man would ever befriend an Elf," the girl told this story in a rush of words, leaving Estel blinking, confused.

"Wait, wait--that is not true," Estel said. "I was raised by the Elves in Imladris, by choice did I come here with them. We were sent by Lord Elrond to engage in negotiations with your people. No one controls my thoughts." His mind flashed to Lady Galadriel, but he did not think that was quite what the girl referred to.

"It cannot be so! You are clearly having illusions brought on by this illness!" exclaimed the girl, and she felt his forehead for fever.

"Stop that," Estel said irritably, taking her hand away from his face. She cringed and drew her hand back. "Listen to me, girl. Who tells you these things, about the terrors of Elves?"

"Every one does."

"And do you not think that living in a city, behind walls, probably most of their lives, save to battle with Elves, they might not have a slightly skewered opinion?"

"I--" she paused. "I never really thought about it that way…"

"They hit you, don't they?" he asked in a soft voice. He had noticed her cringing as he moved her hand, and knew that either someone was mistreating the girl, or she was very distrustful. As she had told him practically her entire life's story, he suspected the latter to be untrue. "You can tell me, it is all right."

"Some times," she whispered. "They often threaten to send me to the Elves, who are ever so much more terrible!"

"No! The Elves abhor violence in any form! They would not treat you badly. These are lies you have been told."

"Possibly," she replied with a slight shrug. "But then, who is to say that you are not lying? You may have gathered your senses, as you claim, but you may yet be under the control of the Elves. Perhaps you cannot remember their violence towards you?"

"At least you have sense," replied Estel. He began to argue again for the sake of the Elves, and then considered the others, his yearmates, and the treatment he received at their hands. Just as he was inclined to agree with the girl, his thoughts turned away from his yearmates, to his father and his brothers, and even Legolas, who had been so wonderful to him. How could he say that they were horrible? "But the Elves have been good to me ever. What of your people?"

"And yours!"

"Nay! You think I know not, that your King slipped me a sleeping draught, and this is why I could not act to save my comrades? The Elves have never done that to me!" Again, guiltily, he realized they had, but not under the same circumstances: once, many years ago, Estel had hurt his arm very badly and Elrond had given him a sleeping potion that he might be out of pain for a time. That was completely different, however. "And how are my friends being treated now, do you suppose?"

"It is not my place to wonder at such things," replied the girl, meekly. At some sound she froze. "I hear footsteps," she told Estel. "Quick, lay down. I am only to clean in this room, and not to speak to anyone. Please, do not tell them!" With this she sprang from the bed and took up a broom from the corner. Estel did lie down, and closed his eyes in meditation. He needed to get the others free, he knew, but how? It would take the girl's help. How long had they been captive? There were windows, but Estel was too disoriented to judge the time by the sunlight. His thoughts were interrupted by a sharp voice.

"Sierra!"

"Yes, milady?" the girl answered. Sierra: that must have been her name--Estel put this to his memory, and listened closely.

"Leave this room now, I must see to the boy."

"Yes, lady," the girl said, and Estel heard the door close as she obeyed.

*****

By nightfall there were five more Men occupying the room. They had come in during the day, wounded, from a battle with the Elves. Estel had watched and wanted to help with the healing of the Men, knowing that the methods being used were archaic and unlikely to do any good. 'Athelas, Athelas!' he thought, but was not allowed to do anything, and so only watched the healers hurry about shouting orders, and listened to the groans of the ill Men.

Estel had been given two meals that day, as he was unconscious through breakfast, and both meals he was afraid would be watched over. Luckily they were not, and the edan child was free to slip his tea out the window, fearing that it would be drugged. There was a nice bed of flowers just outside, and Estel hoped whatever drug had been slipped in would not hurt them. When at last the sun sets, the injured Men drifted off or were drugged off to sleep. Estel, too, was given a sedative, but he had kept it in his mouth until the healers left, then had hurriedly spat it out the window.

When the moon rose, Estel slipped from beneath the covers of his bed and sat on the windowsill, looking out at the luminous orb of night. His mind went straight away to thoughts of his brothers and Legolas, and of Muriel, Lysander, and all his yearmates, locked away so unfairly, simply because of the way they were born. Oh, how he wanted to help! But what could he do?

"Hey," said a small voice, beside Estel.

"Sierra!" he exclaimed.

"Shh! Yes," she replied. "Your words stayed with me, and I had to see for myself the truth of the matter."

"My brothers! You have seen my brothers? And the others, you have seen them? Where? How do they fare? May I see them, also?" Estel shot a volley of questions at her all at once.

"I do not know who your brothers are, but I have seen Elves. They are in prison, and fare badly. They wish to be freed. Two of them--they looked frighteningly similar--"

"The twins!" Estel interjected. "My brothers. Tell me they are well!"

"I cannot. They are unwell. The others wish only to be freed and are unwell only in that they have hardly eaten in a day, and were taken unconscious to their cell. The twins, as you call them, fare worse. They have been beaten. I'm sorry."

"Take me to them," he demanded. "Please."

For a moment Sierra was silent. She bit her lip, then said at long last, "Oh, I will be punished for this…" To Estel, she added, "Come with me, but you must be silent." She left the room, taking with her a candle from beside the door, and Estel followed out into a dark corridor. "We will turn right at the end of that corridor, then down the first staircase we come to. The storeroom at the end of the first-floor hall has a window facing the prison where your companions are being kept. Follow me." She crept onwards, making her way down the corridor. Estel followed, hardly able to see for the darkness. When they reached the stairs, he was more than glad.

It was an odd staircase, and Estel saw it at once for an obstacle. On the inside the staircase wound along a wall and there was a rail on the outer side, with a landing partway down. The stairs made a right turn at the landing, and no more could be seen. Anyone could easily sneak up on them. Estel paused, and Sierra's candle bobbed on. She paused, also, realizing he had not followed, and turned. "Come on!" she hissed, and Estel scurried onwards.

All the while he listened for the sounds of footsteps, yet when he heard them, he nearly shouted in surprise. Sierra turned to him, and her face betrayed her worry. "I can melt into shadow," she said, and Estel nodded, for all Elves could do this, "but you--you must take the candle and run back to the sickroom! Quick!"

"I know not the way!" he hissed. "Here--" then he took the candle and pinched out the flame. What he was about to do was highly dangerous, but he would risk it. Without thinking he placed both hands firmly on the rail, then swung over first one leg, then the other. He jammed his feet through the spaces between the balustrades, lowered himself to a crouch, and grabbed the rail firmly. With a few quick words to the Valar Estel let his feet dangle, and hung only by his out-stretched arms.

As the footsteps continued to approach Estel did not breathe. He thought for sure he had been caught, that whomever approached would find him there and then it would be over; he would be unable to rescue his brothers, Legolas, and his classmates. He could feel tears itching at his eyes, and only the knowledge that he yet had a chance sustained him. At long last he felt Sierra's hand on his wrist, and heard her whisper, "It is past. Can you raise yourself?" With much difficulty, he could

Estel's heart was pounding so hard he was sure some one would hear, but as he and Sierra continued down the stairs this proved to be not so. They reached the first floor without any problem, and made their way down another corridor. Estel kept his ears alert, but heard no more footsteps. When Sierra stopped, his heart hammered against his ribcage. "Something is wrong?" he asked.

"We are here," she replied, and twisted the doorknob. "Locked!"

"Move aside," Estel said. If he had not been searched for weapons--ah! Hidden in the secret pocket of his tunic, against his chest, was a knife. Estel took this out and knelt beside the door, inserting the knife into the keyhole.

"How long?" Sierra asked.

"Three minutes, maybe," he replied, concentrating. Perhaps half a minute had passed before she said, "Um…sir?"

"What is it?" he asked, turning, exasperated.

"Someone's coming. I hear them."

With a curse Estel turned back to the lock and began to work at it harder, twisting the knife carefully. Down the hall, he could hear the footsteps, too. 'Come on, come on!' he urged silently, sweat breaking out on his forehead. Sierra, beside him, was chewing her nails nervously. As the footsteps reached the floor, there was a soft click. Estel glanced at Sierra, and for a moment they met each other's eyes and froze, then he reached for the doorknob--it turned! They bolted inside, and shut the door just in time.

Estel leaned against the door and closed his eyes, relieved. "Sierra--my name is Estel," he muttered. She nodded and went over to the window.

"Oh, no!" Sierra exclaimed.

"What is it?" he asked.

"Can you swim?" she asked him.

"Of course I can. Is that relevant?" he asked, somewhat annoyed.

"Listen to me now, Estel. I have listened and trusted you, now you trust me." With these words, Sierra made Estel realize that he had blindly trusted her so far, and now she was asking him to do so even more. "The usual guard is off tonight. The replacement…what I mean is, we cannot approach the prison by my usual route. Instead, we will need to take a more…subtle path."

"What does that mean?"

*****

"…so people just dump sewage down these drains, and the river carries it away. The lake is five miles away from here, and the smell, you must be able to smell it. Awful. The result of this? Modern waste disposal, but also a pathway to anywhere in the city we want to go," Sierra explained. They had dropped through a great hole beneath a water basin in the storeroom, and were now beneath the city, in an odd sort of tunnel. They had rekindled their small light, and gathered up another, so now each carried a candle along the strange pathway.

"And the noises?" asked Estel.

"Only rats," Sierra replied lightly. "Here we are!" She motioned towards a wooden circle in the ceiling, about three feet above their heads. "I never thought of the height…"

"Get up on my shoulders," Estel suggested. They set their candles on the floor, melting the wax so that they would stick, then Estel helped her to up. She had to bend to fit, but managed to raise the wooden circle with her palms, and pushed it aside. At once a dirty, disheveled Elven face appeared, and she recoiled in fear. "It is all right!" Estel called up to her, easily seeing the faces of his allies. "Go on through!" Nervously, she did so, assisted by Legolas.

"There now, are you all right?" he asked her. "I am going to bring up Estel, just a moment." He moved Sierra aside. Estel jumped and managed to grab hold of the floor--or ceiling, depending on which perspective you took. Legolas helped him along, then they replaced the wooden cover carefully. "It is so good to see you," Legolas said, embracing Estel.

"You are all right?" Estel asked as Legolas released him. "And the others?" They were all in some place or another in the cramped cell; on the floor or standing, asleep.

"Yes, yes, we are all right."

"My brothers?"

"Estel…I am sorry."

Estel swallowed hard. "Where?" Legolas pointed. The mortal moved to the bars of the cell that held his friends. Across the hall was another cell, where two Elves were in a jumbled heap against the wall. They were sleeping, it seemed. "Elladan?" Estel said, tears choking him as he tried to keep them down. "Elrohir?"

"Who is that?" asked Elladan, stirring. His eyes focused, and for a moment he looked in disbelief. "E-Estel? Estel! Elrohir, wake up! Wake up, it's Estel!" The twins rushed to the bars, revealing bruises on the faces, calling their brother's name, and they reached across the hall. Estel shoved his shoulder through the bars, and his fingers just met those of his brothers. The three were nearly in tears.

"But you are all right?" Estel asked.

"All right enough. You do plan on getting us out, do you not?" Elrohir asked.

"I will, Elrohir, I swear it. You will not be here long, I promise," Estel said, though he had no plan. The sad state of his brothers moved him, and he would not allow their suffering to continue.

"Estel," said a small voice. It was Sierra. "The knife."

"What?"

"When we were going into the storeroom," she reminded him. "Can you do that to those locks there?"

Estel looked at the lock on the cell door. "It is worth a try!" he said, and made his way over to it. By twisting his arm painfully, Estel jammed the knife into the lock. Tears of pain came to his eyes after two minutes of jimmying the knife in the lock, and only the thought of his brothers kept him going. It felt like hours passed with no results. At last the knife slipped, and Estel gasped as it cut into his hand. "I'm so sorry," he muttered.

"Estel?" Legolas asked. "Look."

Estel did, and saw that the cell door had opened. "I--I--I--"

"You did it," Legolas told him. "Now, go and get your brothers while I wake the others." While Estel realized he was being treated like a child, he did as he was told. Each second was an eternity of fear, until at last with a creak the door to the twins' cell opened. Estel slipped the knife back into his pocket, and then was wrapped in a tight embrace.

"Elladan, Elrohir!" Estel protested playfully.

"We have to move," Legolas said. "I am sorry, my friends, but if we tarry here long there will be trouble. Come; I will lead."

"No," said Sierra. "I know the way out, let me lead." Legolas looked to Estel, who nodded. Sierra began to move towards the front, and they followed her.

"This is crazy, the front entrance will be heavily guarded!" Legolas hissed.

"No," Sierra replied. "You do not know the King, but I do. In an attempt to pre-empt any escape, he will guard the back way heavier than the front. If we stand any chance, this is it." She came to the door. "Go now. May the Valar be with you."

"Sierra…" Estel paused, but she shoved him onwards and out into the darkened streets.

Within moments the small band was discovered. He sun was rising, and the light helped the Men see the Elves, and gave no advantages to the Elves. Their numbers were thinning. "This way!" Elladan called, motioning. Estel followed him, not knowing who ran beside him, thinking only for himself. Elladan led him down an empty alleyway, then stopped. "In here," he said, holding open a door. Estel slipped through, and moved into the room.

It was a weapons storehouse. All manner of weaponry--swords, shields, bows, arrows, axes, spears, scythes--were piled about the room. Estel had never seen so many dangerous things all at once. "Take what ever you like," Elladan said, letting the door slam shut. "But take something. We will be fighting our way out."

Estel looked around for a moment. Elladan, Elrohir, Legolas, Lysander, Wilwarindi, Naarie, and Elemmiire were all numbly choosing weapons that suited them best. Three were missing from their number: Luinil, Karnil, and Muriel. In the grey room, Estel took the time to say a prayer for them. "Hurry on," said Legolas, placing a hand on Estel's shoulder and making him jump. "Time is short."

*****

TBC