Chapter Summary: Silmarien and Lothiriel are captured by Corsairs. Silmarien formulates a dangerous plan. Will she be able to pull it off?

Shout outs:

Terreis –I laugh. You can have Elrohir, and keep him for all I care. I rather enjoy blonde elves...And thank you for sticking up for me, though I think my temper doesn't need anyone to help it. I hope you like this chapter!

Mercury Gray – You'll get him back depending on if my audience wants a sequel (you guys...DO want a sequel, right?)

Roisin Dubh – Ah yes...the Elf Lord. Wouldn't you like to know...?

Electric Fire – Poor Glorfindel! He gets cut from the movie, and Arwen steals his horse. The poor elf needs some time to shine. Chapter six held a clue for the theme of this story's sequel...that is, if my reviewers want a sequel...

Mariette – Freddie is my pet balrog. I threaten to sic him on people who read my story and yet are a little lazy when it comes to feedback.

You want tomboy? You got it, but at the sacrifice of Silmarien's safety. Ranger will be a key character in the next few chapters.

Justso – You must be very young, that you are so condescending. Either that or you are so old that you think you know everything. I refuse to make comments on any future reviews you make.

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It was late at night a few weeks after the Elves had departed when it happened. Silmarien lay in bed, her eyebrows knit together and a pained expression on her fair face. Throwing the blankets back, she ran to her wardrobe, unable to bear it any longer. She was just so hungry! She had not eaten her fill during the evening meal, nor had she been satiated at all for a long time. Mari was breaking her fast from rich, deliciously filling foods.

Dressing quickly in a gown which had no laces she needed to fiddle with and putting on some day-slippers, Silmarien braided her hair in one long rope to keep it out of her way, but didn't bother with a ribbon. She was in too much of a hurry to get to the kitchens without being caught. Lighting a candle, she took its stand and went on her way.

Opening her door, Mari peeked out, looking left and right. Seeing no one, she quickly swept out of her chambers and ran down the corridors. At one point, she nearly ran head first into two guards. Before they could see her, she jumped back, peeking around the corner. They were too close to the passageway she had to take for her comfort.

"Drat!" she whispered under her breath. Then, she felt a curious snuffling at the hem of her gown. Ranger had been following her and now seemed to ask why she was awake at such a late hour. He began to yip – much too loud to be hidden.

"Shush, Ranger!" Silmarien hissed desperately, trying to quiet the long-legged pup. He danced out of her reach and ran down the hall, past the guards, much to her great anxiety. Immediately after Ranger had gotten their attention he began to show off with antics that would make him fit to be Imrahil's jester. To Silmarien's great delight, it got their attention away from the passageway and she was able to sneak past them without a sound.

The famished lady of Gondor finally found herself in the kitchens and quickly found a loaf of bread and a jar of strawberry jam. Cutting the bread, she spread the jam on it and stuffed into her mouth, sighing with satisfaction. Finally, she could fill her stomach without getting sick. And no one would know...well, except for the cooks, who were sure to find everything out of place in the morning.

The sound of footsteps caused Silmarien to panic. Not knowing what else to do, or even who it was, she immediately raised the knife she had used to cut the bread (which was incidentally covered with the sticky jam). But she had no need to fear, for it was her younger cousin who stepped wearily through the halls with her own candle. Lothiriel smiled with a raised eyebrow when she saw her Gondorian kinswoman.

Embarrassed, Silmarien put down the knife, shrugging. "My brother is a ranger," she offered as an excuse. "How did you know I was here?"

"Because I know you, Mari," Lothiriel said. "I've seen you stare at your empty platter. I've seen the longing in your eyes, for want of it to be filled again. I've seen the yearning glances you cast whenever a sweet dish is passed around. Did you think me a simpleton, that I do not know what you have gone through just to wear the fashions of my city?"

Silmarien looked away from her cousin's keen eyes and deceptively innocent face. "I want to go home," she murmured. "They let me eat what I want in Gondor, and care not that I am fat and lazy."

Lothiriel laughed, cupping Mari's cheek. "You're not fat and lazy, my friend," she smiled. "You just enjoy life. To be happy in everything you do is a rare talent, Mari, even if it is considered unladylike. I've heard Father say that Aunt Finduilas was much the same way. I remember him telling me that he once saw her catching frogs in the stream that runs in the gardens."

Silmarien's lips trembled as she tried to smile, even in her increasing need to cry. "I want so much to be like her, Thir. All Father tells me about her is how graceful and lovely she was!"

Setting down her candle so that she could embrace her despairing relative, Lothiriel became the encourager she always was. "You don't need to be like her. You already are! Yes, you must grow up as Father and Uncle say, but you have such a passion for life! Your spirit takes delight in the morning sunshine, the breezy afternoon, the cool evening. You smile upon things which are truly important – honesty, friendship and love. If a man must see you in silken skirts to admire you, then I pity him, for he has missed the true gems that are yours alone."

After a pause, Lothiriel was unexpectedly roguish. "Unlike the Lord Glorfindel, who seemed to delight in you especially."

At that, Silmarien pulled away and went back to stuffing her mouth with bread and jam. This time, there was a definite blush on her face. Lothiriel did not miss it, and decided to press her luck.

"Ah, you do like him then," she grinned, her eyes merrily laughing at her suddenly shy cousin.

"I admire and esteem him," Silmarien said, making excuse for the way she had spoken about the elf lord since he had departed. The tall, wise and very handsome elf lord who had so graciously kissed her hand in such a noble way.

"Oh, you admire and esteem him?" Lothiriel said, mocking her by taking on the exact same tone Mari had used. It won her an irritated glare which told her that she was treading on dangerous ground.

"Don't make me wrestle with you, Thir. It's not ladylike, and you know I'll win."

The threat (and the glare that came with it) could not be taken seriously. Mari had her mouth absolutely full of bread and was trying not to choke while talking though the food.

After satisfying her hunger, Silmarien snuck back to the royal wing, where Lothiriel's chambers were. The two had agreed to sleep in the same quarters that night, as they were still young and could stay awake to talk about nonsensical subjects.

In whispers that were becoming dangerously loud with their laughter, the girls giggled as they reached Lothiriel's door. The flickering light of the candles in their hands, combined with the torches on the walls masked the shadows that moved toward them until it was too late for escape.

Lothiriel had her hand on the door when she was grabbed from behind. Two hands, one at her waist, the other at her mouth pulled her away from Silmarien. With a sharp cry, Silmarien stepped back, only to be caught up by a pair of arms. Fighting with all her might, Mari caught the hand at her mouth and set her teeth into the flesh. An unrecognizable voice cried out in pain and gave her enough presence of mind to grind her heel into the toe of a dirty boot.

"Help!" was the one cry that echoed off the stone walls of the palace.

In response to the scuffle, several guards rushed to aid them. There were eight intruders matched to five palace guards. The girls screamed in terror, struggling against the ropes that were now being bound around their wrists. Silmarien's mouth was the first to be gagged, as she had been crying out the loudest.

Ranger had come out of no where, leaping at one of the kidnappers and knocking him to the floor. Closely following him was Barahir, who had heard the shrieks on the way back to his chambers from a late-night council. Pulling out his dagger he cut at the man who held Lothiriel, immediately becoming locked in a duel. The intruder lost his life for his boldness in attacking the princess.

Silmarien was not so fortunate. The gag had successfully been knotted, and she was now being carried away. She tried to scream, until one of the rogues struck her face hard enough to cause her to pass out.

"Mari!" Barahir cried, indignant that his cousin would be so used. Instantly he was pushed back by three other kidnappers. One lunged at him with his sword while another took Lothiriel's bound wrists, pulling her away. They followed their comrades, and left their friend to deal with the young prince of Dol Amroth.

Though Ranger had been bruised a bit in the fray, he was still angrily barking at the intruders who were taking his lady away. More guards appeared and took Barahir's opponent captive. He rushed to a window to see the men mounting horses and riding away, obviously having escaped by way of balcony. He rushed to tell his father the news and sound the alarm.

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Imrahil glared at the prisoner angrily, his eyes darkening in disdain. The prisoner was on his knees, his hands bound behind his back, but the glitter in his eyes told him he was not in submission.

"Where have they taken my daughter and her cousin?" Lord Imrahil asked, his tone dangerously low. This was the third time he had asked, and it was quickly becoming tiresome.

"To a safe place," the man sneered. "They will not be harmed. Their value would decrease, and would then become less useful."

Three guards, accompanied by Ranger and two other hounds of Imrahil's house appeared. The Prince's attention became diverted. It had been at least two hours, and the search for clues concerning the girls' whereabouts was coming to a close, he hoped.

"Yes?"

"We have found several deceased guards, and poisoned gate keepers, my lord," one of them said. "And this."

Imrahil took a torn piece of parchment from the man and looked at it, his frown becoming deeper etched into his lordly face. Looking back at his prisoner, he snarled.

"Three thousand pieces of gold?! You think kidnapping my daughter and the child of my kinsman will be rewarded by gold?"

"Drink up me hearties, yo ho!" came the pirate's laugh.

In rage, Barahir drew his dagger again and came forward. Only his father's strong arms held him back.

"Do not kill him yet, my son. Even pirates shall have a trial," Imrahil murmured. "But their end shall be disgraceful."

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When Silmarien finally came to, she found herself lying on soft grass, the flickering of torchlight all around. The gag had been removed from her mouth, since she had been unconscious. The events of that night came flooding back and she immediately sat up, frantically searching about her for her cousin. Lothiriel lay beside her, with wide grey eyes filled with fearful tears.

Mari's awakening was not noticed for some time, and she was allowed to hear a conversation of her captors.

"That was almost too easy!" one voice laughed. "Hiding in plain sight. That inn was well situated to our purpose, friend! We were barely disguised, and no one asked our purpose."

"Yes, those stupid elf-fakers didn't see us coming. But now what are we to do? We were sent by the captain to fetch the Princess, and we have two girls. The only one of us who's seen the princess before is the captain, and that was near three years ago. She could be either of the two!"

Mari's lips parted in shock. So they were meant to be ransomed? Or rather...Lothiriel was meant to be ransomed. Her younger cousin whimpered slightly, having heard the exchange as well. The princess drew closer to Silmarien, and the two embraced, drawing comfort from each other. What were they to do?

The pirates saw that they were awake, and drew around them as if to triumph over their captives, who would gain them their booty.

"Feelin' better, darlin'?" one of them sneered at Mari, who had a bruise on her cheekbone. Silmarien frowned.

"I'll not be called by any barbaric term of endearment you could ever think up," she said, her grey eyes glittering.

"Oho!" the men around her jeered. "Still feelin' spunky, eh?"

"Whatever you ask, you will not get it," Lothiriel piped up, her voice shaky. Silmarien put her hand over hers. Their eyes met, and Thir understood her cousin's gaze to mean "be quiet."

"I wouldn't be so cock-sure, missy. We always get what we want!" said the man who seemed to be the leader.

Again, the pirates talked among themselves, casting glances at Lothiriel and Silmarien every once in a while. Lothiriel squeezed her eyes shut, trying not to cry.

"Be brave, Lothiriel. You must do something for me, if you are to be safe," her cousin whispered, drawing the princess into her arms. Lothiriel's frame shook with fear, but she tried to sound brave.

"What is it, Mari?"

"You must pretend to be my maidservant. Their goal is to ransom you, the Princess for Dol Amroth, but they don't know who is who. If they take me back to their captain, I will be worth much less to them, and you will be safe."

Lothiriel's quivering increased. "Oh, Mari..."

"Shush! Lothiriel, I don't know how far we are from the city, but I will do my best to cause them to release you. We must do our best! I'll pretend to be you. Perhaps they will let you go."

"What are you two whispering about?" the leader suddenly sneered, stepping very close to them.

"I comfort my servant," Silmarien said after a stressful silence.

The leader walked away from the two after glaring at them for some time, and Silmarien scrambled to her feet, a hard task considering her hands were still bound.

"Pray sir, what do you intend to do with me?" she asked.

"Sell you back to your father, of course," the man snickered, as if there would be something else they would have in mind.

"You intended then to kidnap only me?"

"If you are Lothiriel of Dol Amroth, then yes. Your name carries much weight, and we desire all of it in gold."

Trying to be as sly as her father when dealing with an ambassador, Silmarien's mind worked quickly. "I am Lothiriel. I would ask the name of my captor."

"Ergot," the leader returned. "I am the first mate of The Black Dragon."

"Sir Ergot," Silmarien began, trying to formulate something a true princess would say when bartering for the life of her servant. "You have what you came to Dol Amroth for. You have me. You say that I am worth much to you, but what of my servant? What part does she have to play in your plan?"

Ergot tilted his head at Lothiriel, who was trying to look submissive and frightened – a very easy thing to do.

"She has no part to play. Yet as we do not know what the princess looks like, we took both of you."

"Did you not listen as I announced myself? I am Lothiriel, and I would ask that you release my servant...Mari...to return to the city as best she can."

Ergot squinted at Silmarien, trying to decipher if there was truth in her eyes. "How do I know you are the princess we seek?"

"If you release my servant, I shall come with you quietly. I give you my word," Silmarien said, looking him straight in the eyes. Her reply did not answer his question directly, which was the only reason she could have met his gaze – a trick she had seen ambassadors use when in audience with her father.

Ergot continued to stare her down, seeming to size her up. "Release the servant. If the wolves don't find her, then she may find her way back to the city."

Looking at the true Lothiriel, he leered at her. "Tell your lord that his daughter is well, and will be taken to a safe place. He is to meet us at The Black Dragon with the gold."

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Review! That balrog-chow didn't satisfy Freddie today!