You know, it's not often that I get actually, out-and-out, full-throttle, run-for-your-lives pissed. I can get irritated, upset, angry, and annoyed.

However, none of these phrases fully describes what I'm feeling right now. I think 'rage' might actually be closer.

"What the hell do you mean, SHE'S GONE?"

The poor guard in front of me flinches, but stands his ground. He seems to be taking some comfort in the fact that I am, apparently, being forcibly restrained. Remind me to thank Gimli. I might have felt bad for throttling the schmuck later, but that wouldn't have made him any less unconcious. Or maybe dead.

In case you haven't guessed, this morning, when they pulled the guard change, Leilanni was gone. POOF! It's magic! How do you just up and LOSE a prisoner? Seriously.

"I don't know why, my Lady," the guard repeats. "All I know is that when we came on duty, she was gone, and I had not herad that King Elessar had authorized such a thing."

Well, that's because King Elessar isn't on CRACK.

"Kayli," said King says firmly, "calm yourself. Your rage solves nothing." See? I told you it was closer. Elessar turns his intense gaze on the guard, who looks more scared now than he did when I was shrieking like a harpy right in his face. "Where are the guards who were on duty over the night?"

"I can find them, my Lord," he says quickly.

Aragorn nods, and the guard bolts for the door. Gimli very carefully releases my arm. "Ye all right, lass?"

"No," I answer, and try to unscrew my jaw. "I am most definitely not all right. Leilanni wants my head on a platter, remember?"

Gimli frowns. "Is there some way we can get word to the Elf?" he asks.

I resist the urge to hit myself in the head. Legolas. Of course. He's in Ithilien, as in not in Minas Tirith where we can keep an eye on him.

"We can send a rider, Lord Gimli," Tuson suggests from his place by the door. He glances at Elessar. "My King, should we? Is this...creature not after Prince Legolas?"

Elessar rubs his forehead and sighs. "Yes. See to it, Tosun."

Tosun bows and runs. He looks so proud of himself for having made a useful suggestion. I sigh and crack my neck. Elessar frowns at me. "Don't do that, Kayli."

"Yes, my Lord," I say automatically, then go and sit next to the throne on the stairs. "What do you want us to do, Elessar?"

He sighs and leans his head back on the throne. "At the moment? We watch, and we wait. We shall send word to Legolas, and if I know Ginuviel and Tingalen, they'll have their Prince under lock and key within moments."

Good for them. If he's locked up with a guard at every exit, he can't get hurt. He may go crazy, though, so we need to find her fast.

The guard enters the room again, two more men with him. They look extremely confused. I have a feeling the other guy didn't make too much sense when he explained the situation. There was probably a great deal of babbling. And maybe some stuttering.

They all bow, and the messenger takes up position next to Tosun.

"Would you care to tell me why the prisoner was released?" Aragorn asks calmly. Hey, somebody has to be sane around here. Ain't gonna be me.

The guards exchange confused glances. "We were told that you had ordered it, your Majesty."

Elessar's eyes narrow. "Told by whom?"

"Lord Denethor, you Majesty," the one on the right says, still looking confused.

I hiss through my teeth. Boromir attempts to pick his jaw up off the floor. Even Elessar looks kind of surprised. "Father?" Boromir says.

"I knew he was crazy," Brioc mutters.

Iariel, who is actually required by custom to 'attend' me at all times when not doing 'Manly' things, suddenly blushes and ducks her head. Brioc sends her a confused glance. It's like a freaking soap opera.

I roll my shoulders in an attempt to loosen some of the tension. "O-Kay. Now what?"

"Find Lord Denethor," Elessar snaps at Boromir. Big Brother bows and hurries out of the room.

This day is going to suck. This day? Hell, this week.

1111

I was so right. This week has been terrible.

We've practically ripped apart all of Minas Tirith. Seriously. Denethor's clammed up, saying that he didn't even know we HAD a prisoner. If the guards hadn't seen him, I'd almost believe it. Hell, I'd forgotten about her for the past, oh, eight or nine months.

And can I just say that summer in Minas Tirith SUCKS? It is incredibly humid here. The air is practically dripping, and I feel completely disgusting. Uck. No wonder Aragorn didn't want to be King of this place. It's the humidity, I swear.

Arwen, however, is positively glowing, all serene and beautiful and not turning a hair over the fact that it's about ninety degrees with a hundred percent humidity. Eowyn and I look like we're about to die, and the boys don't look much better. Do you know how heavy velvet gowns are? Bleck.

I lift my hair off my neck and try to find a breeze. Not that there is a breeze, but I enjoy wishful thinking, don't you? Next to me, Tosun looked ready to faint, and on my other side, Bregil was in the process of removing his tunic. Most of my Men were running around stripped to the waist. They're allowed to do that, since we're combing the grounds and the feilds and we're not where young impressionable ladies might have a case of vapors. Hey, I'm not complaining. I'm engaged, not dead.

Yeah, I guess it's official. There's a ring on my finger, anyway. The rings Galadriel gave us, they fit like they were made for us. Hell, maybe they were. Which means since they chain was gone, I'd had to acquire a new nervous habit. I twist the ring around my finger.

Brioc hops down next to me and mops his face with the sleeve. Of course, he's not running around half-naked. He's a Captain, you know. "Nothing, Kayli. Not a damn sign of her. Not out here, not in the city, not in the palace, not on the palace grounds. Nothing."

I shake my head and pull back my hair. "All righty then. What now?"

Brioc shrugs. "You're asking me?"

I thorw up my arms. "Like I know what to do?"

He frowns at me. I frown back and call my Men back around. "All right, boys, let's go. Back to Minas Tirith."

There's a great deal of grumbling, but surprisingly little of it is about taking orders from a woman. Most of it is about the heat. Apparently, this summer is warmer than usual. Well, that's a relief. At least I won't have to be this toasty every summer for the rest of my life.

"What now, m'lady?" Kristo asks.

I shrug. "I'll report to Elessar. Don't go far, he may have something else for us to do."

Kristo bows quickly and nods to Tosun. The two of them get the men into some sort of order and haul them off towards the training grounds. Brioc and I head for the palace.

"Kayli?" Brioc says, when we're climbing the stairs. Why do their have to be so many stairs? Can't they at least wait until we're inside something before they have so many stairs?

"Yeah?" I ask, trying -- and mostly failing -- to pin my hair back up on my head.

"What is wrong with your maid?"

I frown. "Iariel? What do you mean? She seems fine to me?"

He shakes his head slowly. "I swear, every time I see her, she's dropping something or blushing." He glances at me. "Does she not do these things around others? She seems very clumsy."

I giggle. "Just around you, honeychild."

He stares at me, obviously confused. I shake my head slowly. "Never mind."

He opens his mouth to say something, then stops and touches my arm, nodding towards some hooded people entering the palace. Elves. Elves are the only people who walk through Minas Tirith cloaked and hooded.In high fucking summer.

Make that about four Elves. And a Dwarf. I grin. Next to me, Brioc rolls his eyes.

Up ahead, one of the Elves elbows another one. Said Elf glances back, then pushes back his hood. Haldir. He bows ironically. "My Lady."

I stick my tongue out at him. "Hi, Hal." I glance at his companions. Ginuvial, Tingalen, and Legolas, leaning against the door, speaking quietly to Gimli.

Hal makes a face at me. "Why do you keep metal in your mouth?"

I shrug. Togue rings are considered an oddity in Middle-Earth. Just one more thing about me that's weird. Ginuviel is currently looking at me like I sprouted another head.

'Lost a prisoner, I hear," Hal says conversationally, falling into step beside me.

"At least I didn't lose my clothes," I snap back. He smirks at me, and can I just say this makes me nervous. "What are you doing here, anyway?"

"Your Prince had his Adar ask my Lord for my assistance," he replies. And yes, it takes me a second to work out just who did what. My brain is melting. It's the humidity, like I said.

"Ah."

Hal's face turns serious. You know, if you look past that nose, he isn't bad looking. I have been around way to many guys today. My hormones are on a kick. It's like a sugar high, but chocolate is better.

I miss chocolate. I really, really miss chocolate. There are a few more things that I miss almost as much. But I really, really miss chocolate.

"We must find her quickly," he says. "She feels like the rejected woman, and she will seek revenge."

I smirk at him. "We?"

He frowns at that. He looks a little sulky. "King Thranduil said that if anything happened to his son, he'd take it up with me personally. I actually felt very threatened."

I nod. "Oh, yeah." Threats from Thranduil? Have I mentioned that he's very scary?

"Where have you looked?"

I make a disgusted noise. "Everywhere. The palace, the grounds, the city, the feilds...She could be all the way to Rohan by now."

"Would she return to Lorien, do you believe?" Hal asks as we go through the main entrance.

I shake my head. "Galadriel scared the crap out of both of them. And I think we all know what your Lord would do to her if he found her in his lands again."

Hal smiles. It is not a pleasant smile. "Yes, I think we're aware. What next?"

"That's what I'm going to ask Aragorn. He is the King, after all."

Speaking of his Majesty, Aragorn and Arwen are wandering down the stairs, arm in arm and looking disgustingly cuddly. Aragorn looks at us, and BOOM! Just like that, he's all Kingly. It's looks like a mild, benign version of schizophrenia. Seriously. He goes from Aragorn to Elessar just like that. If I didn't know better, I'd swear they were two different people. "What news?"

I bow. "Nothing. Not a sign of her."

Arwen sighs. "She did not seem so clever."

I swear as the pins start to fall out of my hair. "She's NOT. I don't get it, she's just up and fucking vanished. It should be impossible."

"She could be on her way anywhere," Ginuviel says. "Rohan, Lorien, Lasgalen."

I shake my head. "Rohan's a maybe, but she wouldn't dare set a freaking foot in Lorien OR Lasgalen. Lord Celeborn would have her shot on sight, and King Thranduil would probably wait only so he could kill her himself."

Tingalen giggles. "How well she knows his Majesty."

Elessar slowly shakes his head. "Nor would she think to flee to Rohan. Everything she desires is in Gondor." He sends a pointed glance at Legolas.

Goldilocks makes a face. "Why me?"

"That's what you get for being pretty," I tell him, and smirk.

"We found nothing in Ithilien to suggest she'd been there," Ginuviel says, obviously trying to cut us off before we get way, way off topic.

"So we've gotten nowhere," Gimli says.

I sigh. "What do you want us to do, Elessar?"

"We wait," his Majesty says shortly. "Legolas, I would appreciate it if you would remain in Minas Tirith. I doubt she has gone far, and if you are here, it means she will not think to."

"You want to use our Prince as BAIT?" Ginuviel demands, looking scandalized.

"It's a good plan," I say.

Ginuviel has to stop and pick his jaw up off the floor. He turns and stares at Legolas. "You want to MARRY her?"

"Hey!"

Legolas just shakes his head and ignores us. "If anything happens to me, it's up to them to tell my father," he muses.

"Then let's make sure nothing happens to ye," Gimli mutters. "I'm starving. Haven't had anything but Elvish fare all day."

111

The party dispersed with that. Gimli and the Elves headed for the kitchens, Aragorn and Arwen went about...whatever it was they'd been doing, and I sent word to my Men to go home, then went up to my room to relax a little before heading back down to see what the hell it was we were gonna do now.

At the moment, however, I am perched on my dresser, watching a spider the size of my fucking FIST crawl across my bedroom floor.

I hate spiders. HATE THEM. Hate, hate, hate. More than I hate caves. Or heights.

Haldir is one dead Elf. When I get my hands on him, they are going to be finding his body for WEEKS.

And can I just say how hard it is to find anything in a drawer when you're hanging upside down to look and trying to keep an eye on a spider at the same time? Let's just say it ain't easy. That's what I get for putting away my knives, I guess. I didn't know I'd have to be armed in my own ROOM.

Iariel pokes her head in the door, frowns, looks around, then catches sight of me, and looks completely shocked. "My Lady, what ARE you doing?" THEN she sees the spider, and screams holy bloody murder.

Ouch.

"Iariel!" Nothing. "Iariel, shut UP!"

My maid claps both hands over her mouth. A-HA! Knives! I work one out of the scabbard and then the drawer, take aim, throw...and MISS. My aim sucks. I pull the drawer out further, grab another one, and throw, and pin the damn thing right to the floor, where it lays there and twitches.

Just that moment, our Heroes--Boromir, Faramir, Brioc, and Eowyn -- appear in the door, armed with various odds and ends. Boromir and Faramir have the pokers from the fireplaces in their rooms, Eowyn has a candlestick, and Brioc has a knife. Anybody else feel like they're playing Clue? I think it was Mrs. White, in the bedroom, with the candlestick.

I think of the strangest things.

Iariel is just staring at it, like she's never even seen a spider before. Well, I've seen spiders, but never one this big, 'cause, y'all, that is a big freakin' spider. Iariel shudders and quickly turns her back, bumping nose first right into Brioc's chest. She blushes, studders, half-turns, catches sight of the spider again, and quickly turns back around and buries her face in his shoulder, completely forgetting her embarassment. He looks startled for a moment, then a look comes over his face. You know, one of those clipped-by-Sam's-frying-pan-of-DOOM looks. He wraps his arms around her and starts soothingly rubbing her back.

This love stuff? It's freaking contagious. If I have to see ONE MORE happy couple, they're going to have to find me a padded room where I have to write home in Crayolas because I'm not allowed anything sharp.

Faramir leans on his poker. "Dare I ask?"

I smile. "Haldir," I answer. It comes out a little muffled because my teeth are clenched.

Boromir twirls his own poker over his shoulder. "Thoughts of vengeance already, dear sister?"

Oh, yeah. Big Brother has no idea. I manage to get down from the dresser, only knocking three or four things on the floor. But hey, none of them break. I pull the rest of the pins out of my hair and keep smiling. "Oh, yes, darling brother," I reply. "I'm gonna wash up and change. Can someone sit Iariel down and get her water or something?"

Brioc nods and leads her out of the room, his arm around her shoulder. Boromir smiles slightly. "Don't do anything TOO horrible," he says, and drags Faramir out of the room.

111

Guess what I get to do? Tonight we have another formal thing, celebrating the fact that Faramir and Eowyn are getting married tomorrow. Then tomorrow we have another formal thing, celebrating the fact that Faramir and Eowyn are married. It's sort of redundant. But it's cool, because I have a KILLER dress for tonight. It's dark blue, and it can hide a blade. Score!

And I have also found a group of Elves. In the gardens, naturally. I can hear Legolas's voice, and Hal's. Legolas sounds half-annoyed, and half-resigned. "Tell me you didn't."

"Surely this Lady of yours isn't afraid of spiders," says another voice, one I don't know.

"Afraid might not be the right word. 'Petrified' might actually be closer," Legolas replies.

The strange Elf laughs. I can see them now. He has long dark hair and bright green eyes, just like Thranduil's. Another son. Holy crap, how many does he have?

"Good evening, gentlemen," I say, and lean against a tree, knive in my hand, spider still on the blade. The new Elf grimaces. Legolas sighs. Hal smirks. The Twins look amused.

"Why, good day, Kayli," Hal says cheerfully. Well, as cheerful as Hal ever gets. He can be amused, sarcastic, snide, annoying, irriated, and enraged, but he really doesn't do cheerful. "What have you there?"

I walk -- OK, maybe stalk, or storm -- over to him, and hold the knive up in front of his face. "Friend of yours?"

He cocks an eyebrow at me, that annoying freaking habit all Elves have. "Why, no. Wherever did you find that?"

I bare my teeth at him. "In my room, Hal." I wipe the blade off on his tunic. "Why do you do this, Hal? Do you ENJOY public nudity?"

The strange Elf looks at Legolas, who shakes his head. "Long story," he mutters. "I'll tell you later."

"I hear it was funny," 'Dan says cheerfully. He DOES do cheerful. Usually in an amused way, at someone else's expense.

"It was freaking hilarious," I reply. I shake the blade in Hal's face. "I'm gonna get you for this, Haldir. If it's the last damn thing I do."

He smirks at me, flicking the remains of the spider off the sleeve of his tunic. "Oh, I'm quivering," he says sarcastically.

I laugh and shake my head. I drop the blade into the sheath down my back. Have I mentioned I LOVE this dress? "See if I don't," I say, and then give him a big, sloppy kiss on the cheek. "Enjoy the peace, Hal. It won't last."

TBC...

My sincerest thanks to everyone who reviewed. Am too lazy to look them up right now. As it's six o'clock in the morning, and it sucks that I can'tsleep, so this once I'm gonna do the skipping thing, OK? Just thing once. Please forgive me, and I love you all.

Besides, I'm working on planning the sequel. Does that make it better?