Legolas began to protest, but the elf standing over him stepped hard on his back, pressing all the air out of his lungs. Legolas choked, hiding his face in the dirt.

"Sîdh," Elrond cautioned him.

"Peace?" Dorlarth repeated. "We have had but a false peace for many years."

Katie watched the scene unfold with horror-filled eyes. This was not supposed to happen. Her mind spun. Everything had been fixed; everything was going to go back to normal. Dorlarth was not to win! If he won, the lives of her friends wouldn't be worth a snap of her fingers. And those lives were vitally important. They had some role to play in the future, and she was supposed to be there to ensure that they played it. And what had she done so far? She had saved herself and Legolas, it was true, and had gotten help for Elladan. But she had not returned to her own world. Maybe there was something more to be done. Maybe she was supposed to save them in this present crisis! But what on Middle-Earth could she do?

Dorlarth had begun to speak. "You have kept us captive for many long years—but now you are captive. You enslaved us for your own gain; now you will be enslaved. And you sent us to our deaths. So too will you be sent to your death.

"But your death does not have to be painful. If you will give up your ring, I will make it quite quick. If you do not…" Here he paused and smiled. "Your death will be terrible and lingering. In the end you will beg me to take the ring, if only to end your suffering."

Elrond stood still and seemingly unaffected throughout this entire speech. There was no question of it in his mind now: Dorlarth was mad. He had hidden it frighteningly well while in Elrond's employ, but now it was patent. Some of his followers were grinning at his every word with a shocking glee, but quite a few looked unsure and unsettled. It seemed now that Dorlarth was so close to his goal, he was forgetting to be careful. Perhaps if Elrond could stall and draw him out, he would make a false move. If his followers could be convinced that their leader was insane, there might be some way to salvage this situation.

"What do you propose?" he asked Dorlarth calmly. "That I simply hand the ring over to you and allow myself to be killed and those dear to me to be enslaved by a lunatic?"

A muscle in Dorlarth's cheek twitched, but this was the only indication of his rage at Elrond's insult. "Yes, I think that would be best," Dorlarth answered, equally calmly, as if he were discussing the weather.

"Ah, but you see, I would much prefer to stay alive," Elrond said gently. "And you cannot kill me."

"Of course I can!" Dorlarth said, confused.

"Well, you could, if you really wished it," Elrond conceded. "But it would not benefit you. You cannot have the ring unless I offer it to you of my own free will; I can force it to remain hidden even after my death. And I choose not to offer it to you." Elrond's serenity appeared to infuriate his opponent. He paused. "And it seems to me that as long as it is on my finger, I still retain its power."

Those around Elrond felt a chill run through them, as if a chilly breeze had just blown up. The sky seemed to darken for a moment, and Elrond looked somehow larger, taller, and more intimidating than he had before. His voice had a more thrilling, deeper note to it, and everyone in the glade could hear the trees around him creaking, as though his very presence were too large for them to contain. "I retain the authority of Vilya, the Ring of Air, and I tell you, Dorlarth Dolenion, that I will not cast it away to a diabolical lunatic!"

Katie closed her eyes and turned her face away from him. Most of the elves looked on in awe. But Dorlarth—Dorlarth seemed terrified. He shuddered for a moment, and turned greyish. But this expression was quickly followed by anger, which distorted his face into a horrible ugliness.

Elrond's sudden access of power began slowly to fade. Dorlarth found his voice again. "You might not give me the ring for your own sake, I admit. You have called me unscrupulous. Will you yourself become so? I have in my power several innocent elves, including your sons, and two human children." He gestured to Estel and Katie, spitting out the word "human" as if it were an abomination. "Will you allow me to do to them what I will, only for the sake of retaining your power? A ring of the elves is not for you, Peredhil. Give it to me."

Elrond stared back, unblinking. "Should I give power to a madman?" he answered.

Dorlarth made no reply, but walked purposefully over to where Elladan knelt on the ground, watching him apprehensively. Without pause or preamble, Dorlarth kicked him viciously, right over his wound.

Elladan cried out and crumpled forward. Elrohir struggled against his captor. "Elladan!"

All of Elrond's elves watched in dismay as Dorlarth kicked him again, just as hard. Elladan pulled away, trying to shield his side from his attacker, though his arms were still tied behind him. He gasped for air.

Dorlarth grabbed Elladan by the hair and yanked him upright. The young warrior's face was bloodless, but resolved. "Give it to me," Dorlarth repeated to Elrond, whose face was set in grim lines.

"Don't, Ada," Elladan managed to gasp out. Dorlarth backhanded him, and he moaned softly. At the moment everyone's attention was focused on Elladan, Elrond saw a slight movement amidst the trees.

"Stop," Elrond said quietly. He had stalled as long as he could. Very slowly and deliberately, he slid the silver ring from his finger. "Here it is."

Dorlarth took an eager step forward, then paused. "I cannot trust you; you are too cunning. You might wait until I was within your reach, then use your power to attack me. No, someone must fetch it for me."

"Why not send one of your followers?" Elrond asked, with as close to a sneer as ever crossed his face. "You have proved already that you do not mind sacrificing them for your own benefit."

Dorlarth shook his head, smiling. He knew better than to send one of his own followers. Once they had that much power in their hands, who was to say they would not keep it for themselves?

"You misrepresent me," Dorlarth said, in a hurt tone. "No, I will send one of your own, that no one more may be hurt this day." He said it piously, then looked around the glade.

Every one of Elrond's followers were cunning and strong warriors. Any one of them could turn the situation to their advantage once freed.

All but one.

Dorlarth turned to the elf who had a tight hold on Katie Johanson's arms. "Let her go," he said.

His follower obeyed orders. The girl stared at him, wide-eyed, absently rubbing her sore wrists. "Take the ring from him and bring it to me," Dorlarth ordered.

She turned frightened eyes Elrond, suddenly seeming younger than her seventeen years. Elrond held the ring out to her. She walked toward him like she were half-asleep, and held out her hand. He dropped the ring into it, and looked hard in her eyes. They were full of dismay. The last thing she wanted was to be the instrument through which Elrond gave up his power.

Elrond had not the power of Galadriel, to speak directly into the minds of others. But he could offer some consolation. His eyes bespoke hope, and they also carried the message, Move slowly.

Katie inclined her head—the only sign he received of her comprehension. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, she turned and began to walk toward Dorlarth, the ring clutched tightly in her fist.

She never had to finish that walk. There was a twanging noise, and a hum, and the sound of an arrow striking the ground… right at Dorlarth's feet. There was no time to react before a second troupe of elves charged into the clearing: the hunters from Mirkwood, and riding at their head, Eregdos—and Glawar.

The insurrectionists were thrown into complete chaos. A fair number simply raised their hands in surrender. They had begun to see the truth about Dorlarth's character, and no longer wanted to be counted with him. But a handful fought back viciously.

In the midst of the fighting, Glawar charged toward the elf guarding Elladan. The guard drew his sword, but Glawar surprised him by swinging off his horse. Before the guard knew what was happening, Glawar had punched him in the face. He reeled backward, and was engaged in fighting with one of Eregdos's elves, who subdued him in short order.

Glawar dropped to his knees and quickly cut the ropes binding Elladan's hands. With a groan, Elladan collapsed onto his back, his eyes closed in pain. Amidst the sounds of combat, Glawar gently and swiftly unwound his bandage and pressed a piece of clean cloth over his burst stitches.

Elrohir was at his side in a moment, having been freed by Eregdos. He wordlessly took over for Glawar, who half-rose to see where in the battle he might be of use, but it seemed to all be over. Eregdos's troops had captured Dorlarth's followers and Dorlarth himself, and Glorfindel, Estel and Legolas stood by Lord Elrond.

And stock-still in the middle of the clearing stood Katie, still clutching the ring.

TBC

AN: Yeah, I know it's a bit shorter than usual. But it was the best spot to put a chapter break.

Elvish translations:

Sîdh: Peace

Ada: Familiar form of Adar, Father. So, something along the line of Dad or Daddy, depending on context.

Peredhil: Half-elven. Elrond is sometimes called Elrond Peredhil, or Elrond Half-elven. Dorlarth here uses it to point out that Elrond is bearing an elven ring of power, while he himself is only half elven. (Actually a little less than half, but let's not go into that.)

werewolflemming: Speedy Gonzales, that's me :D Thanks!

EresseElrondiel: Mmm yes, comforting elves! Elladan could definitely use some comforting at the moment! Wait, that's how Dorlarth can be punished! He can be beat to death by a reader with an umbrella:)

Thanks also to fk306, Coollilyflower, Madd Hatter and renegadekitsune!

Please review while I figure exactly how I'm getting them out of this…