A/N: Another day, another chapter. I think I'm finally going to get around to the good stuff now, after all that dilly dallying. Build the tension, I always say. So enjoy, and REVIEW, because even with all the hard work I'm pouring into this, "Corruption" is a sadly neglected story.*pointed stare at those who read, but do not review as is proper*

Disclaimer: Go shag yourself…….Kidding! No, really, I own NOTHING, so there's no point in getting angry about it is there? I clean up after myself……and if the characters come back somewhat different than when I took them……it's not my fault………*heavy pause* Look! An eagle! *runs in opposite direction*

Chapter Eleven

Hasana and Nathaniel sat cross legged on the marble floor, each looking into the other's eyes with complete concentration. For those that knew better, they would see that while they were silent, a different kind of exchange was taking place, one that was far beyond the hearing of any normal man. Eldarion and Assilan sat in high backed chairs no more than a few paces away, arms folded across their chests, feet crossed at the ankles. They watched the pair with interest, though it was clear they were getting impatient. Maybe not Eldarion, but Assilan certainly was.

If we don't say something soon, they're going to get angry, and people will get hurt.

Hasana knew Nathaniel was right, but she didn't like the idea of talking to him with Eldarion around, or Assialn, for that matter.

Not yet. Please.

Opposite her, Nathaniel's eyes hardened just a little.

No, we cannot let them think we are conspiring against their plan. We must go along with it.

Hasana sighed in defeat, allowing herself to close her eyes for a brief moment to gather some semblance of calm and wisdom. She would have to play all her cards to make sure Eldarion stayed fooled long enough. Nathaniel, of course, would have no problem. He had been prisoner for more years than her, and knew how to close himself off and keep blank. Hasana had once been like that, though not anymore. She had lost everything Galadriel had taught her, her mind trying to reverse what could never be changed. She would always be what she was, but that didn't mean she knew how to milk it for all it was worth.

"They are talking mind to mind." Assilan hissed suddenly, fidgeting in his seat as if he ached to stand and do something about it. "They are resisting."

Eldarion exhaled through his nose, a small smile dancing on his lips.

"Why do you not talk?" he asked them. "Get aquainted? You'll be spending a lot of time together from now on. You might as well learn eachother's names."

Hasana curbed the urge to spit on his finely polished boot, squaring her jaw and raising her head in defiance.

"We will speak when we are ready." She replied tartly.

Out of the corner of her eye, she could see Nathaniel tense, the hands placed in his lap curling into fists under the strain. He wasn't watching Eldarion, he was watching her. Perhaps he had thought she would take a different route, and believed she was making a head on dive into something she could not handle. Eldarion was not a man to get angry, but she knew how to push his buttons without paying dearly for it.

"Hmm." He murmured. "I don't think you quite understand your place, Hasana. You will speak when I tell you to speak. Now talk to the traitor. Tell him your name. Perhaps you might as well go ahead and tell him your lover's name aswell. The better you know one another, the better you'll work together."

Hasana merely scoffed.

"Work for what?" she laughed. "Your cause? Did you seriously think we would willingly participate in the slaughter of thousands? If you do, then you are a fool indeed Eldarion."

It was as if she had cursed his father, the reaction was so fierce. Eldarion jumped to his feet like lightning, throwing his chair behind him as if it were nothing more than scrap. It smashed easily against the wall, and Hasana couldn't help but flinch a little, cowering under Eldarion's suddenly fiery gaze.

"Forget this." He snarled, turning to Assilan, who seemed just as surprised as she. "Forget the whole afternoon." With a growl, he turned to the two men-at-arms standing ridged by the door. "Bring the Elven Lord from his cell. We do this now."

With that, Eldarion stormed from the room, Assilan following closely at his heels. Two more men filed into the small room, pulling Hasana and Nathaniel to their feet, following Eldarion down the hall where he led them to the grand ballroom, throwing the doors open and rushing inside. Upon entering, Hasana noticed that the tables had been cleared away in the center of the room, and two small chairs sat in their place facing the windows and balcony beyond. What looked like a scaffold stood in front of them, though instead of a rope hanging from the top, two chains dangled at the sides, with two more bolted to the ground. The guards sat Nathaniel and Hasana in the chairs and strode back to the doors.

The second they were seated, Eldarion rounded on them, a wildness in his eyes that sent shivers striking up and down Hasana's spine. She'd seen him a rage before, but never like this.

"The time for dilly-dallying is over." He roared. "We go forward now, forward to a brighter future in the eyes of men."

There was a strangled cry from the doors, and Hasana somehow found the courage to tear her eyes away from Eldarion and swivel in her seat to see the men from the other room march in, a limp form dangling between them. The red robes the figure wore were nothing but ribbons, grimy and disgusting from long days spent in a dank cell deep in the bowels of Minas Tirith. Their long ebony hair dangled in front of their face, greasy and tangled in knots. At first, Hasana thought it was a woman, until they raised their head ever so slightly, and the hair parted to reveal a face she knew only too well.

"Cigry!" she shrieked, knocking over her chair and scrambling towards him, unable to look away from his beautiful face; one that was now screwed up tight in pain, crusted with year old blood and covered in dirt.

Eldarion ran after her, wraping one arm around her waist and halting her frantic progress. She fought in his hold, kicking and scratching and doing anything that was humanly possible to get to her lover. The men continued to march forward, but they did not stop in front of Eldarion, instead they went on and hauled him onto the scaffold, locking his wrists and ankles in the heavy chains. Cigry sagged under the weight, moaning softy, his eyes closed.

Eldarion took Hasana back to her seat, then dragged over a heavy trunk, one she had not noticed before, digging a jingling set of keys from his pocket and searching through them for one to open it. Hasana shifted in the chair, biting her lip so hard she broke skin and a trickle of blood ran down her chin. Her eyes, now a troubled midnight black, swiveled back and forth between Cigry and Eldarion, her heart pumping erractically in her chest. Beside her, Nathaniel was shivering, his own eyes locked on the chest Eldarion was trying to open. Hasana had a frightening thought that he knew what it was for, and feared the consequences.

Finally, Eldarion found the right key and set it in the lock, turning it quickly and throwing the lid open. He pulled a large blanketed shape from the chest and dropped in on the floor. It made a clanging noise when it fell, one that sounded too much like swords for Hasana's liking. Crouching down, Eldarion unfolded the package slowly, and Hasana's stomach lurched horribly once she saw what was inside.

Dozens of pockets lined the inside, some larger than others, but each held a different instrument crafted of metal. There were knives, and tweezers, and scalples similar to the ones surgens had used on her own head. Some of the pouches were filled with what looked like neatly coiled wire. A whole row was devoted to them, the first pouch no larger than her smallest finger, the last the size of her arm. Besides what Hasana could identify, there was an array of things that she did not know of, and no desire to. There was even a set of something akin to sandals, though along the bottom, she could see many small spikes, some even, still covered with blood.

Tools of torture came Nathaniel's soft, undeniably terrified voice inside her head, and Hasana nearly fainted right then and there. She suddenly had a very clear picture of the price of her refusal.

The same two guards appeared again, this time toting a large brazier between them, and placed it beside the scaffold, crouching down to light it and set the coals aglow. One of them prodded the coals, then let it sit and soak up the increasing heat. There was only one purpose to doing such, and it was not an attractive option.

Eldarion finished with sorting out his tools, then stood and regarded Cigry for a moment, before turning to Hasana and Nathaniel.

"Time has come for a change." He said, starting to pace slowly. "I have sat and waited for too long. My prisoners have become arogant and foolish with petty ideals of hope, and they believe I no longer hold over them the power I once did. But they are wrong, very wrong."

He stopped, stooping down to pull a small scalpel from his package and hold it tightly in his palm. He swivelled on his heel and grasped Cigry's hair, wrenching his head back and placing the tip of the scalpel on his neck, pressing down ever so lightly on the skin which pulsed fainty with the beat of a struggling main artery. Hasana held back a gasp, tears gathering in her eyes.

"I can kill him." He whispered to her, taunting, teasing. "I could if I wanted to, and you know that, don't you Hasana?"

Hasana nodded numbly, all thoughts of refusal flown from her mind.

"Do you love him enough, to do anything I ask of you in return for his life?"

No! Nathaniel shouted inside her head, his voice frantic. No, do not let him manipulate you! You promised me Hasana. Do not go back on your promise now, when it all comes down to this.

"Answer me Hasana." Eldarion said firmly, pressing the scalpel a little harder.

Hasana didn't know what to do. She couldn't simply watch Cigry die, now that she was so close to having him in her arms again. She just couldn't. She had gone through too much, given up too much in hope that one day she would be granted the grace of holding him, of kissing him, of crying all her worries and pain away because he was with her. She could not refuse Eldarion. She wasn't that strong, to give up what really mattered to her, just to save the life of three people she didn't even know, despite the fact that they were Bren's own children, innocents. She wouldn't.

"I love him enough." She said, tuning out Nathaniel's cry of anger and dismay in her mind. "I will do whatever you ask of me."

Eldarion grinned wolfishly, but instead of drawing the blade away, he merely flattened it on its side and swiped it down Cigry's neck, turning it again just in time to slice effortlessly through the dismal robes and cut one long line across his chest. Cigry cried out in agony, bucking in the chains, blood spilling forth from the wound and staining the red robes a deeper shade of crimson. Hasana lept from her chair, but was thrown back by Assilan's strong arm.

"I do not believe you." Eldarion said, smirking lazily.

"Believe what?!" Hasana cried, tearing her eyes away from Cigry's bloody body. "I told you I would do whatever you asked of me……"

"You may say that, but I do not think Nathaniel feels the same." Eldarion replied.

Hasana laughed bitterly, uncomprehending. "What does he have to do with this?"

"His face." He said. "When you said you would obey me, a strange look passed across his face. What kind of look do you suppose that might be?"

Hasana's stomach suddenly clenched, a coil of fear winding around her breast.

"I do not know." She whispered, but it was quickly becoming a lie.

"Betrayal." Eldarion said simply. "I know betrayal. I know what it looks like, and despite his stubborn attempts to hide it, it was there, plain and clear as day on his face. I have never seen it so clear before."

Hasana opened her mouth to say something, but no words came.

"You were going to refuse." He continued. "You were going to outright refuse, and supposedly not care for the consequences. But apparently, Cigry's life is too high a price for your morality. Quick thinking brought you to the conclusion you could bluff for a while, and find some way out. Any soldier would have done it, and so I am not surprised at all."

And Hasana knew it was true. She knew she wouldn't have gone along with it for long.

"Now." Eldarion sighed. "Let us get on with this."

He bent down and picked up one of the knives, tossing it between hands. He walked around the scaffold and climbed up onto the platform, tearing what was left of Cigry's robes away, leaving nothing but some threadbare leggings; once white, now stained a greenish grey.

"Contact the Ardarauko in the Grey Havens." He comanded her, grasping the hilt of the knife tightly. "Do it now."

Hasana shook her head, even though she knew the consequences.

Eldarion raised his brows, lowering the blade and slicing along the back of Cigry's ear. Cigry twisted in pain, a low keening note flying from his throat, but he did not cry out. More blood spilled down his temple and along his cheek, some of it falling down his neck.

"Do it now." Eldarion repeated, this time a little firmer.

Still Hasana shook her head, her turbulent eyes clouding with tears.

One of the guards tossed a whip to Eldarion she hadn't noticed before, and he uncoiled it, taking a practice snap in the air just above Cigry's head. The Elven Lord flinched, but said nothing. Eldarion waited for just a second, as if giving Hasana a chance to change her mind, then turned and whipped the cord back, throwing it down on Cigry's exposed back with a sickening crack. He took two more swings, Hasana jumping in her seat each time, before lowering the cord again.

"Will I have to ask you again?" he queried softly, but there was a dangerous note in his voice.

"I will not do it." Hasana replied as firmly as she could. "I know Cigry understands this is for the greater good."

Eldarion turned to his bloody victim, tugging on his hair again to raise Cigry's tired, pain creased face. He smiled to the Elf, taking his chin and bringing it very close to his own face, his gaze boring into Cigry's dull, expressionless eyes.

"Do you understand?" he asked, as if adressing a child. "Do you understand what your lover is putting you through, what she is making you endure?"

Slowly but surely, Hasana could see a familiar light spark in Cigry's gaze.

"Mankoi lle irma sint?" he responded softly.

Why do you want to know?

"Because I wish to know. I do not have to answer to you. Tell me, do you understand?"

There was a heavy pause, and to Hasana's joy, she watched a small smile play along Cigry's lips.

"Amin uula malia. Amin anta rangwa"

I do not care. I do not need to understand.

Eldarion didn't accept that answer. With a force, and power, and speed Hasana didn't know a man could posess, he lept down from the scaffold and ripped one short, thin blade from its pouch, using Cigry's own body to lever himself back into the platform, and before anything could be said, before anything could be done, he swiped the blade across Cigry's neck, piercing the main artery in one foul blow.

Hasana screamed. She screamed louder than she had ever screamed in her life, throwing herself from her chair and running up to where Cigry's body twisted and turned in agony, blood rushing in torrents from his neck, saturating his clothing, tangling his hair, washing the once pristine marble floor into a sheet of dark crimson. There was madness as guards fought to keep Hasana away from him, and above her own screams and Nathaniel's own cries of despair, she could hear Eldarion shouting.

"Do it now! Do it now and he will be saved!"

Hasana didn't even have time to think. She pushed her way out of the guards hands, stilling her mind and closing off the sounds, the smells, the sights. Her eyes became clouded as she sent the message wide, searching for a powerful mind to catch. She didn't see as Eldarion cried in triumph noticing her unfocused and blurry gaze, unbolting Cigry form his chains and laying him in his own blood, watching the imprisoned Elven healer come bursting through the doors to save the life that could not be brought back by any mortal means. Her entire body, her entire essence was on sending the message. She knew she hadn't done this before, this far. She knew that it would cause great pain to whoever she chose to give the message to. She knew all this when she finally found a powerful mind, shining bright and clear in the haze, and latched on to it, throwing all she had into communicating with this person.

She could not have known that is was the Lord Celeborn who she contacted, on that balmy night in the Haven. She could have cared less who it was, as long as they knew. In a nonsensical mess, she told them about Eomynne, Calidur and Elleduil. She told them not to come, that only death and agony would result. She told them everything that she knew.

But the one thing that she didn't know, was that she was too late.

"They are gone?!"

"Indeed they are Celeborn, which means they have left before we could warn them of the troubles they will face on Middle Earth."

"I do not understand. Why would they go a day early? What could they hope to gain?"

"I do not know."

A heavy sigh.

"What will we do then? If what this message says is true, then their lives are in grave danger."

"They were always in danger. They could not expect to return to Middle Earth, and openly oppose Eldarion without any opposition in return. This was their choice. We did not make it for them."

"But what about….."

Elrond backed away from the slightly open door, tuning out the conversation inside. He was not one to eavesdrop, but this conversation had come upon him unbidden, and now that he knew what Celeborn and Galadriel were so quickly trying to cover up, he could not help but listen. If what they said was true, then there had been a warning from Middle Earth, one pleading Legolas, Haldir, and their men not to come and save Legolas' children, for fear of the consequences. But they had gone, and a day earlier at that, than originally decided amongst them all.

Elrond had lived through many things, both good and bad, and had experienced times best forgotten, but nothing before had filled him with such dread as he felt now, such a deep foreboding that told him there were very dark times to come. It was a kind of feeling that made you want to crawl into a corner and die, and let he rest of the world deal with it, because you were too afraid of what was happening. Not ever in his many thousand years had Elrond wanted to crawl into a corner and die. Never had he felt as if he could do nothing to change the course of fate, or had willingly given up.

But now…..now was a different matter entirely.

Now was a time for great decisions and great evil, and now was the time where the very fate of the Elves hung in the balance, and neither option was without death, and without great sacrifice.

A/N: * sigh * Another short chapter. Well, at least something important happens……sort of. Hope you enjoyed, and please review, because I seriously need it. Seriously. R&R!!!!!!!!!