Chapter Summary: Silmarien is at the mercy of the pirate captain...will he discover her true identity?

Shout outs:

Terreis – Hey, I needed him to say something...piratey! And I laugh because I don't need the dark-haired elf. I don't want to keep him. I want the blondie!

Mercury Gray – I'd kill him, but the coward isn't man enough to leave his email. So sorry. I gave you your own balrog, though. The one from the vodka bottle. Have you decided to leave him as a slime beast, or did you let him play with lighters?

Electric Fire – Yes, Mari is very brave. Gondorians are known for willingly risking their lives for the safety of others (i.e. Boromir telling the Council of Elrond what his country has done to keep the other countries relatively safe from Sauron). She's scared, but it's like an instinct for the people of Minas Tirith.

Mariette – Ah, if only writing were that easy. And Freddie thanks you for the Balrog Treats. Where did you get them? I've had to toss an occasional Dark Lord at him as a delicacy. Yes, my friends, Justso is no more...

Lindele - You are now my slave! Now that I've gotten you hooked onto the story, you'll never escape!

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Dawn was approaching. The wildlife was still asleep, and yet something was amiss. It seemed the stars shone brighter that very early morning, to light the way for the traveler who was very alone.

Lothiriel ran as fast as she could, stumbling upon her gown and the terrain, which seemed to rise in an attempt to malevolently slow her progress. Her side hurt, her hair was a tangled mess, and her feet were sore. All she could think about was her cousin and the danger she had willingly put herself in to make sure she was safe. Mari, dear Mari! What have you done?

Tears flowed freely from her tired eyes, wetting her dirty face as she fell to the ground, weary and weak. The princess despaired that she would get back home in time to help her cousin at all. Lothiriel wasn't a quick runner, and she knew it. When she was younger, Silmarien would race her all the time, and each race, she would win.

Silmarien was quick with her feet and with her mind. No doubt she had come up with the plan while the pirates were speaking about them. But why had she sent her away? Why had she chosen to be alone with the rogues?

"Mari...I must try..." she murmured to herself, trying to get up only to collapse to the ground yet again. Lothiriel simply didn't have the energy anymore. She couldn't move. Her limbs refused to obey, and sleep overcame her at last.

-----

Imrahil had gathered two dozen of his finest Swan Knights, now on a hunt for his daughter and her cousin. Barahir had insisted on taking Silmarien's pet, Ranger, arguing that the animal knew her scent intimately and would search for her the best.

Dawn was breaking now, and they had not found any trace of the girls. Hoof prints were seen, but the pirates seemed to have directed their horses in such a way as to confuse any followers. Either that, or they knew not how to ride, as Imrahil thought.

Barahir was one of the more active hunters. He rode ahead many times and was always paying heed to the hounds they brought with them, Ranger especially. The scruffy pup whimpered whenever he found anything that even hinted at the scent of his mistress.

Imrahil was proud of his son. He was not a blind man. He knew of his son's devotion to Silmarien, though she was still very young. He approved of his son's earnest dedication to the safety of his sister and their cousin, and knew that one day he would speak to Denethor for Mari's hand.

Ranger yipped and yapped for quite some time, having obviously found something. Barahir immediately spurred his horse into the dog's direction and dismounted.

"Here, Father! Here!" he cried out, having followed his cousin's guard dog behind a clump of foliage.

Imrahil and two other knights joined the young prince of Dol Amroth. The Swan Lord cried out in concern. "Lothiriel!"

The others gathered around as Barahir helped his groggy little sister up, covering her with his cloak.

"Lothiriel, are you well?" Imrahil asked, bringing a flask of water to her. She drank it immediately when she realized what it was. After she had been revived somewhat, she looked about her, a bit disoriented. When Lothiriel saw her father, she instantly threw herself into his arms.

"Father, you must find her! She made them send me away! She told them I was her servant!"

"What? What are you saying, daughter?" Lord Imrahil asked, pulling her head back a little so he could see her face.

Lothiriel articulated to her father and brother what had happened since they had been kidnapped and Silmarien's plan, leaving nothing out. Imrahil's face showed his concern more and more. Barahir was concerned as well, but praised Silmarien's quickness of mind.

"It is no wonder, Father, that she is called the Raven by the people of Minas Tirith. She is cunning and wise, though she has not had to prove it before. She knew that the pirates wouldn't get as much for the ransom, were they to receive one at all. Her first thought was to make Lothiriel safe."

"Lothiriel's safety has been bought with a high price, in my eyes. It troubles me that she willingly gave herself up to the Corsairs. Could she not have made herself Lothiriel's guardian as they stayed together? Why did she have to send Lothiriel away?"

"It is uncertain what they would have done, my lord," a knight spoke respectfully. "Perhaps they would have sent Lady Silmarien away from them, if they discovered who the true princess was, and they would have been separated anyway. Perhaps Lady Silmarien knew this, and prevented the pirates from doing evil to the princess."

"And the evil would then be inflicted upon herself," Imrahil finished, still worried. "If we do not recover your cousin, Barahir, Denethor will have my head upon a silver platter. Come, we must ride...Lothiriel!"

By this time, Lothiriel had nearly fainted again from weariness and hunger. Imrahil had caught her before she fell, and cradled her against him, holding her protectively.

"This will not do," he said, alarmed. "One of us must go back to the City."

"Let me continue the chase, Father," Barahir said. "Take an honor guard with you, back to Dol Amroth. All I ask is that Ranger comes with me, and that I have a few men in case a fight is called for."

Imrahil was pressed to make his decision quickly. He looked at his son and saw the eager light in his eyes – one a true lord should have when chasing his lady's kidnappers. Lord Imrahil nodded, finally.

"Take twenty men with you, and Ranger. I will go back to Dol Amroth and prepare for your return. Should you desire help, send a man back to the City. I will keep watch, Barahir."

-----

Silmarien's nerves were too on edge for her to be sleepy at all. The pirates had ridden a little longer and came to the water's edge, where a boat waited. She was told to sit in it, and was taken out to sea, where the Black Dragon was anchored in the Bay of Belfalas.

Several other Corsairs came to leer at the prize their comrades have brought back, gleefully tugging at her messy braid, shoving their finger into her side and pinching her arms. Mari batted them away angrily but wasn't able to do anything other than make them laugh, as she was still tied.

It wasn't until they started fighting among each other as to who would pull her hair the hardest that the captain made his appearance.

"Enough!" he had shouted. "Gentlemen, don't you know there is a princess aboard our vessel?"

Immediately, the men stepped away from Silmarien, allowing their captain to step forward.

"Greetings, princess," he said with a wicked grin, mocking her with a showy bow. He cut her bonds and Silmairen drew herself up to her full height, determined to take on the appearance of a true princess.

"Who are you?" she demanded.

"I am Sarka, Captain of the Black Dragon."

"So I gather," she retorted. "And do you have any plans other than selling me back to my city?"

Sarka laughed derisively. "If you continue being so bold, I am sure my lads here would have something to say about that, missy."

"I am not afraid of you, or your cowardly crew."

The smile faded from the captain's face. He disliked where this was going. The last time he saw Lothiriel, she was quiet as a mouse and very submissive. How did she become so independent?

Silmarien bit her lip. She was beginning to wonder how well she was doing with her façade. Trapped in the decision to reveal her true identity or to wait for him to find out, Silmarien tried to gauge if Lothiriel had been found yet. Her uncle surely would have given chase immediately.

Silmarien decided to give her cousin more time to run, and kept quiet. She didn't like the way the captian was looking at her.

Sarka was glaring at her, much like Ergot had. It made her uncomfortable. What would happen to her?

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