Flight into Darkness

Aragorn, Eldarion and their riders caught up to Thelyn, Cilmo and the Avari Rangers in the Pelennor fields as they were returning to the city. Their meeting was brief and decisive.

"Where are they?" Aragorn asked angrily when he saw their empty horses.

"Kidnapped by Lord Ondollo, by the looks of things," Thelyn bit out icily.

Aragorn and Eldarion both shot a look to Cilmo who looked absolutely sick.

"What treachery is this within my realm? I have caused no harm to this Lord," Aragorn said in a deceptively calm voice.

"Sire, he is irrational. After the army was killed by the trees, he lost his mind. He wants to save the forest, but there is no one left in it to rule. Those that survived have scattered, but he has twelve loyal archers with him," Cilmo said.

Aragorn didn't waste time on speculating. "What is his plan?"

"He'll try to take them back to Dorian, but I fear he will do something rash before he gets very far," Cilmo said. "He is ripe with hatred, some of which is for me for deserting him. We must move quickly.

Aragorn turned back to his men and started shouting orders. "Three messengers, the fastest riders, come forward."

Three riders emerged from the twenty he'd brought and waited.

"You, go to Edoras and explain the situation to Ẻomer. They would have had to travel north to avoid our patrols. Ask for his assistance in the search. You, to Emyn Arnen, and have Faramir gather his rangers in haste. And you go to Ithilien to Legolas. Let him gather what help he can and meet us in the fields between the wood and the city," Aragorn said.

The three riders tore across the Pelennor to the docks of the river ships. They took the smallest, fastest craft available and immediately left. Aragorn looked at the small band and frowned. It was enough to find lost women, but not enough to rescue captives.

"Son, gather as many riders as can prepare in haste, the rest of us will see to supplies. We leave within the hour," Aragorn said and they all returned to the city to prepare.

Less than an hour later, Aragorn led one hundred riders out of the gates and loaded two ships for the voyage north. In their company was Eldarion, Thelyn and the Avari, thirty of Gondor's most seasoned Rangers and sixty regular knights. Everyone was furious at the outrageous attack on the Princess and her friend. Aragorn stood on the bow of the first ship and scowled at the slowly passing shore.

"Where is the wind when you need it?" he asked bitterly.

"Calm down, father," Eldarion said. "Allassante is clever. They're going to be alright."

"I grow weary of enemies using my family as weapons against me," Aragorn said. "Even in war I have not felt this rage for an enemy. I extended my hand in friendship to this lord and he kidnaps my daughter!" Aragorn said seethingly. He looked at his son in the eye and lowered his voice so that they could not be overheard. "I don't want to negotiate, and I don't want peace. I want his blood."

Eldarion had never seen his father so angry and it was almost frightening. Allassante had always been close to their father's heart. She was not favored, but she was very like him in her manner and thought. She was strong willed and a little rebellious, but kind and soft hearted. She remained at home and was often found in the study keeping quiet company with their father while he worked. The bond of the King and his firstborn was strong, and Eldarion knew that this Avari Lord had gone too far.

"No one will question it," Eldarion said. "What of the Rangers?" He asked as he glanced at the Avari that waited quietly on the stern.

Aragorn looked at Cilmo and paused thoughtfully. He'd liked the captain immediately, and even encouraged his interest in Allassante. He thought he should regret his acceptance of these refugees from the east, but he could not. "There is honesty in them. They are not to blame in this matter," Aragorn said.

"You are more gracious than I," Eldarion said. "I do not like him."

"At the moment we need him," Aragorn said. "Just remember that."

Eldarion glanced at the Avari again and met the return stare of Cilmo. The distrust was mutual and they held each other's gaze in some battle of wills. Anwaner observed the exchange and stepped between them, glaring at Cilmo.

"Don't be a fool," Anwaner whispered. "Our position here is shaky at best. Why provoke the prince?"

"He started it," Cilmo said. "When I marry his sister, I don't want him to think he can push me around."

"If you think the King will let you marry her now, you're as mad as Ondollo," Anwaner said.

Cilmo looked at him with horror on his face, "If he refuses, then he might as well kill me, for what will I have without her?"

"Are we to be but a memory in this world? What will become of our people if we all run to our deaths?" Anwaner asked.

Cilmo hung his head sadly, "Where is your sister, and your mother? Where is Kiirar's father and brothers? Where is Shaalth's wife? What people are there but those we seek, and we few?"

"We do not know what became of the others," Anwaner said. "I still have hope."

"Then hold tightly to it, for once it is gone, you cannot reclaim it," Cilmo said flatly and turned to the railing to watch the shore in solitude.

Ondollo and his archers drove their horses through the forest like death himself was on their heels. The sweat foamed on the horses' shanks and Ambartur, the senior ranking archer called to his Lord.

"My Lord, the horses must rest," Ambartur said.

"When we have crossed the river and found cover," Ondollo said.

"You will kill the women with this pace," Ambartur pressed. "What good will come of a dead Voice?"

Ondollo halted, and the archers gathered around. They were near the edge of the wood, south of Amon Din, and they were going to have to cross an open field to get to the river. Ondollo looked at his archers with annoyance, "Two of you scout our exit from this foul land, and the rest of you take a short rest."

"And the women?" Ambartur asked.

"Give them water, but do not allow the Voice to speak," Ondollo warned.

Ambartur nodded, and he and Norno no helped the bundled women off the horses they were strapped to. He removed the blanket from the princess and she looked half dead. He removed her gag and helped her drink some water. After a few sips, she seemed to perk up.

Allassante spit at his feet, "Dog! You disgrace your people," she rasped through her sore throat. "There is no honor in this."

"Silence," Ondollo said. "If she has had water, gag her again."

"What of my friend?" Allassante quickly said. "You have hurt her."

Ambartur looked at the princess with sympathy in his eyes as he replaced her gag and tightened it. "I will tend her injury, now be silent."

Jamie lay on the blanket she'd been wrapped in, still unconscious. Her hair was matted with dry blood, and Ambartur carefully washed the gash. He glared at Norno who had dealt the blow.

"You nearly killed her," Ambartur said angrily.

"She's but a human," Norno said lightly, "We have the princess."

Ambartur held his tongue and continued to care for the wound. The cut was small, though it bled excessively, and there was a knot on the back of her head. He wrapped it with a bandage, and tried to revive her. He poured a little water over her lips and she stirred.

"Wha…?" she started to speak, but he covered her mouth.

"Be silent!" Ambartur warned. "I will let you drink, but you are to make no sound." Jamie gave him a look that he understood as defiant, so he qualified his warning carefully. "The slightest sound of your voice, and I will kill your friend."

Jamie's eyes immediately went to Allassante, and she furrowed her brow, and nodded. Ambartur released her and let her drink, but Ondollo interrupted.

"Enough! Get them back on the horses, we are leaving," he said.

Jamie and Allassante were once again gagged and thrown over the horses, though free from the stuffy blankets. The Avari crossed the open quickly and then crossed the Anduin. On the far shore they found cover in the foothills of the Mountains of Shadow, the western border of Mordor. All was quiet as the sun sank in the western sky. But there was no sign of making camp, and they continued to drive the horses with desperation. Ondollo spotted the pass he was looking for and led the Archers due east, just north of Minas Morgul. It was a dangerous ride over loose trails and rocky terrain. The land was dead, not a single blade of grass could be seen. The Archers were disgusted, but followed their lord without question. He was all they had left.

Ondollo was pleased with himself, having anticipated the King's move to search to the north. He'd be wandering around the brown lands aimlessly while they escaped across the wastes of fallen Mordor. It was a good plan, for surely they would never think to come this way. He had little worry of danger for his mind was bent on his goal… revenge and salvation.

Jamie's head throbbed, and the motion of the horses was like her ride on Endrion's horse. She thought she was going to puke, but she managed to keep the nausea at bay. She couldn't see Allassante, and she was worried. This was different than her last capture. These Elves didn't want to rape them; they were motivated by anger and revenge. That was scarier than her captivity with the Easterlings. Ondollo didn't seem rational, and she had no idea what was going to happen to them.

Allassante had been paying attention, and she knew exactly where they were. Mordor was a dead land, but it was far from empty. It was not the place to travel, especially at night. Dark creatures still dwelt here and they were known to attack travelers. Now she could worry about their kidnappers and their surroundings. That was just wonderful. If they managed to live through this, her father was going to kill her.

At the gates of Emyn Arnen, Aragorn and his riders were met by Faramir, Polodrin and fifty Ithilien Rangers, and Legolas and forty Elves, including Failon and Alcon. That brought their company to nearly two hundred.

"We have sent out six teams of scouts," Faramir said. "So far no one has reported, but they are the best trackers and will pick up the trail if they came this way."

Aragorn frowned. "If?"

"No sign of any travelers has been seen for days," Polodrin said. "Nyére said that he is very clever. The Avari are well practiced at stealth."

Aragorn looked across the riders to Cilmo and motioned him over.

"Yes, Sire?" Cilmo asked respectfully.

"Ondollo, how well does he know this land?" Aragorn asked.

"Not well," Cilmo admitted. "But he is well informed, and familiar with maps. It is certain he has a plan and has anticipated your move to follow."

Aragorn knew he was right. "What other way is there to gain passage to the east?" he asked Faramir.

Legolas spoke up, "Mordor," he said.

Everyone turned and looked at him with horror, but Eldarion paused thoughtfully. "Of course! No one would expect him to take such a route, but once he crosses the mountains, there is little to bar his way."

"Just endless miles of tunnels filled with orcs, goblins and trolls," Faramir said. "We'll be rescuing all of them."

Cilmo cleared his throat, "No, Ondollo has a gift for dealing with such creatures. Our journey out here was most enlightening. He is a double dealer, and he is good at it."

Legolas didn't like the sound of that. "My father had nothing god to say about the Avari, and now I begin to understand why."

"Who is your father?" Cilmo asked.

"Thandruil," Legolas said.

Cilmo looked at him in awe, "Then he knows well the pact that was made at the parting of the clans, and why the Avari refused to go."

"If he did, he took the knowledge with him when he crossed the sea," Legolas said.

"Then you are the Lord of the Northern wood?" Cilmo asked.

"Our wood is now empty," Legolas said. "We dwell in Ithilien now."

Cilmo nodded, and Aragorn sighed.

"I think Legolas is right about Mordor. If we go through the old gates, we may be able to intercept them in Gorgoroth," Aragorn said.

Faramir nodded, "It is the best plan."

"Then let's waste no more time. Leave a messenger here to meet Ẻomer if he should answer my call and let's get moving," Aragorn said.

Faramir sounded a horn, and all the riders came to attention. "The coward has stolen the Princess and the Forest Singer. We ride into Mordor!" Faramir shouted.

Everyone shouted, and the horn sounded again. As the sun sank behind them, Aragorn led the riders on an all too familiar trail to the black gates. There was little more than rubble left, but the memories were vivid. It was not a place he cared to see, but he'd ride through the fires of Mt. Doom to save his daughter. If this Avari Lord wanted a fight, he was going to get one.

Thelyn followed in silence. His whole body felt numb with shock. Mordor was the most vile, desolate, disgusting wasteland in all of middle earth. He thought of Jamie, and he thought of the blood they found. His heart ached in his chest as thoughts of her tied up, hurt and in pain filled his head. The riders rode hard, but they weren't moving nearly fast enough. He wouldn't rest until she was safe.

The horses rebelled at the stench that seemed to seep right out of the earth, and Ondollo had a hard time controlling them. It was by sheer force of will he kept his riders moving, but the pace slowed. They emerged on the summit and gazed out over the desolate land below as the moon rose to its zenith in the sky. There was mysterious howling and wailing in the distance and Ambartur shivered at the hollow sounds.

"This land is cursed," Norno said.

"The destruction of humans," Ondollo said bitterly. "There before you is the spoils of war."

"And the dark lord once dwelt in a fair garden," Ambartur said sarcastically. "How cruel of the King to lay waste to this once fertile valley."

Ondollo shot him a warning look, and Ambartur held his tongue. This was not a moment for jests, and with such valuable captives, there would be no rest. He hoped his lord still held his skill in weaving spells over evil. In this place, he would need it.

Ondollo stared at the distant mountains, and the break in the range that was his gateway home. He headed down the trail and focused his thought on his forest. He was lord there, and none could dispute his claim on it. His father bound his people to it for all time, and without it, they would perish. Such was the price they paid for rebellion. With the forest healed, they would go on as before, in solitude. He would be lord again, and his word would be law.

Aragorn's company rode all night at a healthy pace and reached the ruined gates by dawn. They paused to rest the men and horses for a few minutes before continuing. Thelyn had been silent for hours, and Failon and Alcon were worried about him.

"Thelyn? Are you alright?" Failon asked.

Thelyn paced beside his horse, glaring at the ground, "No."

"We'll find her," Alcon said. "Trust uncle Aragorn."

"I should have stayed in Minas Tirith with her," Thelyn said. "She asked me not to go, and all I could do was bid her farewell."

"This is not your fault," Failon said.

"Look where they have taken her! Not a single tree," Thelyn said. "A place like that will kill her. She's not like normal people, she needs the forest."

Alcon understood well what Thelyn meant. Jamie seemed almost dependent on the trees. Their trek through the desert had been hard on her, but she was fine when they reached the woods again. And no trees also meant no answer to her songs. She was at the mercy of her captors.

"Allassante is with her," Alcon said. "She isn't alone this time."

Thelyn made no reply; he just waited impatiently for them to get going again. His mind raced to all the dangers that they could face crossing Mordor. Jamie was so small and timid. Being in the hands of an angry Avari was one thing, but orcs and trolls were a whole other matter. If anything happened to her, it would just kill him.

Aragorn joined them and Thelyn looked at him with worry in his eyes.

"We will find them," Aragorn reassured him.

Thelyn just nodded, but said nothing. The lump in his throat would permit no sound.

"Come, mount up, we ride," Aragorn said and then turned to his men to give the order.

The company, some two hundred strong, passed through the once ominous gates into the land of Mordor. It was the largest peacetime gathering of riders in some ten years, and the first to enter Mordor in more than thirty years. There were dark steams and smokes that rose from hidden crevices along the trail and everyone was wary. The sun was not always a deterrent to dark creatures and they remained on guard.

Legolas remembered his last visit into this vile land and thought of Miranda. She was much stronger than he'd thought, but Mordor's darkness had taken a toll on her. Jamie was not as strong as Miranda. He was worried for her. Anger burned in his veins at the thought of Elves doing such a cowardly thing as kidnapping women. He wondered what this pact was that Cilmo spoke of. What happened between the Avari and the other clans? Where did all the hatred come from?

Thelyn tried to think of something pleasant. His mind wandered to memories of Jamie and he pictured her standing in the moonlight beneath the falls of the oasis. He gave himself over to the daydream for a moment, taking in the sight of the moonlight reflected off the drops of water like tiny stars. Her long hair cascaded down her back and her breasts heaving from her breathing heavy under the cold water. She suddenly turned and smiled at him, beckoning him to join her, and he felt his breeches tighten painfully. Thelyn shook the vision from his mind and cringed. He should feel guilty for thinking of her like that while she was in danger. His desire to hold her beneath the falls, and feel her soft body against his often crept into his dreams, but this was no time for his fantasies. Their time to be together would come, but today he would ride with one thought, rescue and blood. He hoped Aragorn wouldn't stop him when they reached the Ondollo. Thelyn intended to kill him.

Despite the sun, the land was strangely swathed in shadow. Ondollo ignored everything save the distant break in the mountains he was aiming for. Ambartur scouted ahead a little to be sure their path was safe. The land was riddled with fissures and cracks, and the ground steamed with foul sulfurous stench. A sudden shadow crossed their path and Ambartur halted and looked up. A large black winged thing flew high overhead and then was lost in the sun. It was strangely still, and he searched for the beast, but didn't see it. He felt a knot form in the pit of his stomach. Dragons were once a plague on their northern borders, and they were hard to kill. He looked at Norno and readied his bow.

"We are being stalked from above," he said quietly. "Be prepared to fire and run for cover."

Ondollo frowned, "There is nothing, keep moving!"

But above them they heard the distinct screech of the beast and Ondollo shouted, "Black dragon! Plague of the north! Bring it down!"

The creature swooped down and was bombarded by arrows. Most were deflected by its bone hard scales, but Ambartur had aimed for its eye and his arrow struck true. The creature was brought up short and retreated back into the sky, scraping desperately at its eye to dislodge the arrow. It howled and wailed in pain and fury and came around for another attack.

"Kill it, if you be the warriors of the east!" Ondollo shouted.

The archers gave the dragon another volley and this time Ambartur put an arrow in the beast's throat, bringing it crashing down. Four riders leapt from their horses and attacked with their swords. Norno severed the beast's foul head from its body, and the creature went limp.

Ondollo glared at the beast, for there was ancient hatred for dragons among the Avari. "Well done," he said. "Let us leave this place. The stench of dragon's blood turns my stomach."

"What other pleasant things will we see today?" Norno asked as he mounted up and sheathed his sword.

"Get moving, we do not want to remain here after nightfall," Ambartur warned. "I fear this dragon is the least of our worries."

"Indeed, Ambartur," Ondollo said. "My wrath is all you should fear if that human King should catch up to us before we reach the wood."

Ambartur was not amused by the threat. What did it matter where they ran into the King? He would come and there would be a battle, and they would die. Be it here, or in the desert, or the Dorian wood the result would be the same. Yet he followed his master despite the folly of their journey. His pledge of loyalty held him, and his love for his master, home and way of life. All was lost, and if his lord wanted to go out in a blaze of glory, so be it.

It was near noon, now, though it looked more like dusk. The air was hazy and frigid, and Allassante and Jamie were freezing. Jamie slipped in and out of consciousness from the pain in her head. She realized she probably had a concussion, and riding hung over the saddle was probably not the best treatment for it. Her horses' rider happened to move closer to Allassante, and they exchanged looks. Allassante looked concerned, so Jamie tried to give her a smile. Her face hurt from the gag, and she had to put her head back down and rest. Her stomach hurt, her head hurt, and her throat hurt. She doubted she could sing at all even if there were any trees to hear. She hoped that someone would come for them soon, because she didn't think they'd get out of this on their own.

Allassante cringed. She felt awful, but Jamie looked terrible. They'd handled her roughly, and she was too frail to be treated like that. Allassante knew her father was coming, she just hoped he was smart enough to figure out which way they'd gone. Whatever else this Ondollo was, he was shrewd. He was completely mad… but shrewd.

Aragorn saw something up ahead and kicked his horse to urge him on. There in a large heap was an old Nazgul steed. He'd heard rumors that one survived the war, but no one had ever seen it. There were several Elvish arrows scattered around and Aragorn felt satisfaction in the confirmation of their chosen path.

"They came this way all right," Legolas said.

"This beast is still warm, and the screeching we heard was less than an hour ago," Faramir said.

"The tracks are plain, father," Eldarion said. "They are headed east with all speed."

"I will show them the meaning of speed," Aragorn said, and then shouted to his men, "They are less than an hour ahead, let's take them!"

Everyone was tired and cold, but at the call of their king, they felt their determination renewed. They all answered with an enthusiastic Yea! And followed at a full gallop. This chase would discourage most, and break even more, but the will of the king, and the outrage of his men at the unprovoked kidnapping, drove them on. As the sun started its decent behind them, they saw their enemy in the distance, running for the Gap of Mordor.

"At last we have them," Eldarion shouted.

Thelyn saw his prey and his jaw tightened. Somewhere among the riders was his love, and she needed him. And there at the head of the riders was the blood his sword ached for, Ondollo. He was going to pay.