I'm back from the pretend holiday (will not go into explanations as to why it's pretend)! And I'm supposed to be cramming for my exams that are beginning tomorrow but I just couldn't concentrate and was in desperate need of some online time. So I will now write the next chapter of my story.

Thanks for all your reviews!

To Arwen Elf : Thanks for the 2 long reviews you sent me! Unfortunately they were identical (oops!). But that's okay, had a very good time reading it anyway. Yeah, I do realise I left out a lot of good places where I could have expanded. Especially Faramir and Éowyn's wedding! And I admit that the reason I left out some of those nice juicy places is because I didn't know how to write it. (Which is exactly why I am still in school memorising chemical equations and not making tons of money writing books like J.K. Rowling and all those other genius-type authors.) In fact, I am still agonising over Middle-earth weddings. I mean, do they have priests and walking down the aisle and all those other Christian/Catholic wedding stuff?

Chapter 17 : Losing Grip

A figure appeared in the distance, and Éomer squinted to make it out. He gasped as they got closer. "Elenion! It's Lothíriel's horse!"

Approaching the limping stallion, Éothain's caught its reins. The two men stared in horror at the arrow that stuck out from its hind leg. Éomer began to look round desperately, hoping that perhaps Lothíriel was somewhere close by, or that he could at least find some trace of her. Éothain made the stallion lie down and began to try getting the arrow out, no easy operation when the horse was tired, hungry and frightened. Please let me find her, Éomer prayed as he searched for a sign. The frosted grass looked rather trampled, but it could have just been Elenion before he was shot… or not.

Then Éomer saw it.

A brown cloth, strewn on the ground, next to a rock. He picked it up, and almost let out a yell when he realised that it was stained with blood. Whose blood? It couldn't possibly have been Elenion's, not with the arrow still stuck in his hind leg that way. The very idea that it could be Lothíriel's blood spread a wave of panic over him, but he pushed it away, refused to believe. At least there is a trace, he told himself firmly. That's better than riding for ages not knowing whether we're going the right way.

He walked back, where Éothain was binding Elenion's leg, and grimly showed him the cloth. Éothain stood up, staring at it, then said slowly, "We can't take Elenion along with us; he'll slow us down."

Éomer nodded. "Let's just hope he knows the way back to Edoras. Otherwise, it will be freedom for the princess's steed." Stroking Elenion's mane, he said, "Here is where we will leave you, Elenion. Good luck, and hopefully we will find your mistress."

They mounted their horses, and rode on without looking back.

Lothíriel held Halen's gaze, trying to ignore the pain of the rope cutting into her wrists. After what felt like twenty years, but had only been two days, Halen, in his arrogance, had finally told her of their plan.

"The kidnap of the Princess of Dol Amroth can a war, I believe," he said with a laugh. "Even if you were not so dear to your father, your good looks might be enough. With trouble between Gondor and Rohan, it would be easy for the Dunlendings to seize power, wouldn't it?"

Despite her exhaustion, hunger, and shivering, Lothíriel just had to laugh at that plan. "A more harebrained plan I never heard!" she said spitefully. "Relations between Gondor and Rohan are too good for something like this to spark a war. They will just join forces to find me, and you will be in great trouble!"

"Laugh all you want now, princess. You won't be laughing later," Halen said with a smirk. "I'm not finished. The kidnap will strain relationships, but it is the murder of the Princess of Dol Amroth that will truly spark the war. Imagine your father's rage, when he learns that the Rohirrim have killed his precious daughter!"

"Then what is it that's keeping you? What's keeping you from cutting my head off right now?"

"Because a little merchant party from Gondor will be returning home. They'll be coming down by the Greenway in three days."

Three days, Lothíriel thought numbly. Just three days left until I die. And I've only lived for twenty years.

Halen put a mug to her lips, and Lothíriel was forced to drink the water. But when he began to untie her so she could eat, she shook her head. "I'm not hungry, I'm not eating," she said, even though she was starving. Perhaps if I starved to death first their plan would be wrecked, she thought. Not that it's much of a plan anyway. At least, she hoped not. Her mind was clouded and everything was beginning to blur.

"You haven't eaten anything for three days."

"I'm not hungry!"

"Suit yourself," Halen growled, throwing the bread on the ground, and stomping off downstairs (as well as he could with his wounded foot).

Lothíriel closed her eyes, and focused on trying to clear the haze in her mind, but there was no use.

Three days left.

The sun's last rays disappeared once more, and Éomer could almost scream. Every hour, every minute, every second that went by could make the difference. "Let's stop," he said with a sigh.

Éothain cleared his throat. "Actually, my lord, I think it might be all right if we kept going. There's only one way she could go now, anyway. Otherwise she'd be riding around in circles in Rohan. I'm sure the princess knows that, even if she doesn't know Rohan's lands. Anyone who has even seen a map of Middle-earth will know so."

Éomer could have given Éothain a hug for saying that, but instead he nodded and said, "All right, we'll press on then. But be careful, if she has been kidnapped, there might be people looking out for us."

They rode on, going as fast as they could, nothing stopping them.

I'll see you soon, Lothíriel.

Another cold night of frost. Lothíriel kept her eyes shut, telling herself not to think of the cold. Which only made her focus on the cold more. Now I know what a beggar feels like during winter nights. The thought came out of nowhere, and she didn't even bother to question herself. Instead, she felt her consciousness slipping, slipping right through her fingers, and finally everything truly went dark.

Another short chapter but I find short chapters very useful, don't you?