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Since I having holidays for the next two weeks, I'll be trying to write as many chapters as possible. (:
It has only been about twelve days or so since she started on her journey.

– Odium –
Chapter Five

She was but faintly aware of floating lightly in unending darkness, impervious to time and space, and silent. It seemed that her eyes were open, but even if they were shut, she would not know. Either way, the darkness remained the same.

Am I dead?

But she already knew the answer to her unsaid question. No, she was not dead. She was somewhere within nowhere, waiting to return to reality, perhaps. Then, it seemed that she knew she wasn't really seeing anything, and struggled to open her eyes. The effort was Herculean, and each time she tried, the darkness got lighter…

Her eyes slowly flickered open. The overwhelming darkness she had experienced not too long ago was slowly fading, leaving random dark spots of colour hovering in front of her eyes. As her body regained feeling again, she felt the cold hard ground beneath her, sucking out the breath in her lungs, as though she just been recently dumped there, rather unceremoniously as it may seem.

Curiousity killed the cat, and she was tired at staring at the reliable boring blueness of the sky, along with the clouds. Which incidentally did not happen to match her mood. Really, she thought, a darkened sky would have been better to sympathise with. She tried to turn her head to the side, but instead of complying, her head replied with a wave of dizziness that made her want to shut her eyes and return to that space. She fought it till it went away, then tried again. Dizziness regained its rule for the moment, but it was weaker, and less powerful. Bringing her hands to massage her temples, she was surprised to find her head bandaged rather crudely.

Wha-?

Then the memories returned. The band of fair-skinned men, the raiders, the fight, along with the none-too-glorious memory of the sword hitting her head. She winced, and tentatively touched her sore spot. The men would have definitely brought her to their 'lair', which meant they could not be far away. She would have to escape before anyone missed her.

Trying to ignore the rather mild throbbing pain in her head, she tried to get up. Suffice to say, she was barely a full two inches up when she had to lie back down onto the small sandbag that was her 'pillow', sincerely cursing her head and the man who had hit her. So much for 'quickly and painlessly'. Taking a deep breath, she readied herself to try again.

"I'd rather you not, you know. That was a rather bad knock to the head if I might comment."

A face moved into her line of sight. It was a young face, belonging to a youth no more than sixteen, four years younger than she was. A pang hit her heart as she was reminded of her age. She was not supposed to do this. She could have still stayed in the Harad, with Hidaer and Rufas, and try to fit in with the rest of the females there. She could follow the customs, but she chose this. And now, this scrub-faced boy was looking at her rather intently, as if considering her situation. He deserved to live out his youth, and not actually get embroiled in this mess, and with the raiders, though she doubted he had much choice.

Opening her mouth, she tried to get some words out in order to converse with him, but the words would not come, and neither would her voice. Seeing her obvious difficulty in speaking, the boy decided to take the initiative.

"All right, how's this? I will talk, and you will listen," his voice then quickly lowered to that of an almost conspiratorial whisper. "You are currently in our lair, somewhere in South Ithillen, that's in Gondor by the way. And I know you are trying to escape. I don't blame you either. Except that… well, just say the exit is guarded by men, and then some, and you will probably be unable to get past them."

Kyelia then finally found her voice.

"I can fight."

"I know you can. You weren't brought in with a sword and a bow with a quiver and no arrow strapped to you for no reason. But, I too do know that Braegon –that's the captain –has taken them away and kept them. And no, I have no reason to exactly fear for your safety at this point in time. You know the man who hit you?"

The boy broke off, and silence reigned for a moment as he waited for her to answer.

"Somewhat."

Apparently satisfied, he continued, "well, let's just say that the Captain is not too pleased about the fact that that man hit you with the sword. I have reason to think that does not happen often, seeing their respect, or lack thereof, for anyone that happens to bat eyelashes coyly."

"I do not!"

"That was just a figure of speech, all right? Anyway, as I was saying, that man who hit you? He got a severe tongue lashing from Braegon, and is currently skulking in one of the room here. Locked up that is. Word's around that as soon as you get better, you will be allowed to give him a taste of his own medicine, but I am not sure yet."

"Which leads to?"

"Which leads to the fact that –haven't you figured out yet? Braegon has something to do with you, and I don't think it's in that context, so get the horror out of your eyes. The past few days –well, two days and a half days to be exact –he has been muttering under his breath to no one in particular and is asking me on your condition every hour or so. There's this big thing that's coming up among the people in the 'underworld', and he probably needs you for that. So cheer up and be happy."

"One more question: what is your name? And what are you doing here at your age? You're barely a score of years!"

"Filrah is my name. As for my intentions… well, I want to earn some money to care for my parents. They are getting rather sick. But at least that was what I told them anyway," he shrugged.

Intrigued, she could not help but ask, "what do you mean 'that was what you told them'?"

Filrah looked unsure of himself for a moment, as emotions crossed his face. Inside, he was wondering whether to tell her or not, to divulge his secret, which will definitely cost him his life. But she seemed nice enough, and besides, people near the same age do sympathise with the other better, did they not? The girl did not seem to take much of a liking to the raiders, or –he strongly suspected –any Gondorian. What would she be doing alone, and walking in direction of Gondor with weapons? Conscience battled with gut-feeling before he finally made his decision.

He would tell her, perhaps she might be able to help.

The boy started to speak, but instead, Braegon's voice boomed from the entrance into the small room.

"BOY! How is she feeling? Has she woken up yet?"

Quickly looking at the girl, an unspoken message passed through them. Turning to the Captain, he schooled his face into a tired mask and shook his head 'no'.

Kyelia's lids descended as she propelled herself into sleep.

xxxxx

It was near dusk, and already the fiery orb was making its way behind the mountains. All around the men were drinking themselves drunk, slurred voices shouting for "one more!" and the muffled thumps as heads hit the table-tops, their owners going into a beer-induced swoon.

Filrah had seen the similar in the past week or so that he was in the company of these men. It was the same episode everyday. The men, instead of taking a proper meal, would indulge in beer, sometimes way before the sun had set, in the tavern that they frequented, not far from their 'lair'.

The tavern, like them, was part of the Gondorian underworld that many knew of and heard of, but did not really care beyond that. The Steward took it upon himself to conduct random raids as and when he thought it fit, but there always seemed to be an informer around to foil the plans.

As it was, the lad found himself wondering about the girl that they had brought in, currently under the care of two of their men. Suffice to say, those two were not exactly thrilled at the prospect of staying squat for more than two hours while the rest had their fun. But even in their world, there still had to be a semblance of order, and rule.

He had forgotten to ask her name, silently berating himself for it. It could be crucial anyhow. Sitting in a dank corner of the tavern, and trying to be invisible lest he be called to help some man, he wondered.

Was it possible to go now?

Glancing around, he saw no reason not to. The men were either gulping down their drinks in various drinking contests or lying prone on the floor, where they would be hauled up from in an hour or two –depending on when the flow of drinks ended –and brought back to the lair. Braegon –'captain!' he corrected himself quickly –was probably too involved in that lass that he was with, and he would probably be able to escape the notice of the otherwise sharp-eyed man. With luck, he would be able to return with anyone noticing.

Slowly getting up, and keeping in mind to stay in the shadows, he slowly made his way out, wondering why he did not choose a spot closer, much closer to the exit.

What folly!

"What are you doing?"

Filrah stopped in his tracks, feeling as though he was in an enclosed space –one that was swiftly getting smaller. Later, looking back on the incident, he probably had to thank that lass the most.

"Come on Captain," she purred demurely, something seemingly at odds with the fact that she was sitting right in his lap. "Let's not let him interfere."

The boy resisted the urge to balk. Why could not the Steward target these things instead of them and the fellow raiders? But still, he had to admit Braegon was rather taken in by her comment, and distracted by it –at least long enough for him to formulate a plausible answer.

"Well… captain. It's just th-h-at I promised… to meet my f-folks" –he gulped –"every week. It has been, um, longer than that… already. Could I –withyourleaveofcourse –go and find them? I willonlytakeawhile!" fear took over at last as he blurted out the last few words.

Then he stood there, amidst all the noise –which seemed to fade away as soon as he had gotten into this mess. But it did seem that their seemingly fearless leader did have a weakness after all. He watched as Braegon –besotted by the lass –waved a careless hand at him. It meant 'get going'.

Quickly, before the captain's mind could be changed, he hurried out of the tavern. It was still rather warm out despite it being night. After all, summer was naught but a couple of week away. The streets at this time were as usual, terribly lonely and dark. People were either in taverns, or safe in their homes. Filrah tried to stay out of sight as best as he could, huddling close to the shadows and trying to meld in with them. Unsavoury characters were abound around this area no matter what, and even after eleven days in the vicinity, he could never get used to it.

It took him almost ten minutes to get out of that area, and into the 'light' again. There he hurried along, that quite unexpected crop-up had shaved off some precious time, and he was almost late.

They would not be pleased.

He passed his parents' house. No, it was not to their house he wanted to go.

He had another purpose in mind.

Tbc…
Note:
Kyelia will return to 'central character' role in the next chapters, though the boy does serve a purpose….
I'll try to get the next chapter up asap. It may be quite short though. Bear with me. (:

Please help me review! hugs

lindahoyland: she will learn more about Gondorians… but not yet. And she survives! grins

a girl named bob: hopefully this is soon enough? I'm really getting backwards in my schedule. Plans never come out right do they?

Arami: thanks for the review! And yeah, she reached Gondor… but she not going to do anything just yet, sadly.

Mysterious Jedi: thanks for reviewing! As for what Aragorn would do… it's somewhere in the later chapters! smiles