Katie, allowed to get up the next morning, wandered aimlessly about the house and grounds trying only to keep out of the way. The place was a-bustle with elves hurrying to-and-fro—ellith carrying messages and leading fresh horses out of the stables, ellyn returning long enough to change animals and leave again, others striding purposefully through the corridors to take a message to Elrond and Erestor.
The elf lord and his chief counselor were organizing the search, Glorfindel having gone to help look. Nearly all the ellyn were involved in the search, including the healers and counselors. The ellith took over their tasks, making bundles of food for them, looking to the horses and generally running things at home base.
Katie eventually found Lithorniel in the kitchen, baking bread. Without preamble, Katie said, "I want to help. Can I?"
Lithorniel looked up and deliberated for only a second. "Fine; knead this while I stoke the oven."
Katie obeyed, turning the lump of dough over and over as Lithorniel had been doing. Ellith were at work all around them, and Katie copied their movements.
"Where's Arwen?" she asked over her shoulder.
"Lady Arwen? She is helping with the horses," Lithorniel replied. "She is quite a hand with them. She breeds them in Lothlórien," she added absently.
As they were putting the loaves in the oven, Lithorniel's friend Lossefalme rushed in and started putting food on a tray.
"What is happening?" Lithorniel asked.
"Mithrandir has arrived, unlooked-for," Lossefalme exclaimed. "He has ridden far, and is in need of a good meal."
"Lithorniel! Lossefalme!" the head cook exclaimed. "We need your help over here!"
"Coming!" Lithorniel called back and hurried over. Lossefalme set the last items on the tray and looked over at Katie.
"Could you take this up to them? You do know where Lord Elrond's study is?"
"Yes, of course," Katie said, picking up the tray.
"Thank you!" Lossefalme threw over her shoulder as she hurried away.
Katie carried the tray carefully up the stairs and down the corridors to Elrond's study. Balancing it on one hand, she rapped gently on the door.
It was opened by Erestor. "Ah. Hello, Katie."
"Hi," Katie answered, and set the tray down on an empty place on the desk.
Elrond sat nearby, along with an old man, who had grey hair and a long white beard. His nose was largish, and his eyes, under very bushy brows, were gray. He was dressed all in grey, and a large, pointed blue had sat on the chair next to him, beside a gnarled-looking staff.
He and Elrond had stood courteously when Katie entered, and he watched her with some curiosity—a strangely-spoken human girl, who looked to be no more than twenty, in the Last Homely House!—and with a nasty-looking black eye, as well.
"Mithrandir, may I introduce Katie Elvellon, a guest in the house. Katie, this is Mithrandir."
Katie was proud of herself that she had picked up a little of the Middle-earth customs, and she dropped a curtsey (rather than shaking his hand, which is what she had done to Elrohir when she first met him, and startled him a bit).
Mithrandir nodded back gravely and watched the girl depart. Elrond saw his expression.
"Yes, and her presence here is another story almost too strange to be credited," he admitted when the door had shut behind her. "But we will have time to discuss that later."
Mithrandir nodded as he took his seat again, returning to the subject at hand. "You say Elrohir has been missing since yesterday morning?"
"Yes, and not a single sign of him have we found," Elrond answered worriedly. "Elladan is convinced that his brother is in trouble, and I do not doubt him. We have scouts scouring the area, but they have looked everywhere and found nothing."
Mithrandir furrowed his brow in thought. "Worried as I am for his well-being, I am more concerned with what this means for Rivendell," he admitted at length. "Either the ones who took him are wood-wise as elves, or very powerful. In either case, you have cunning outlaws surrounding Rivendell that mean your people no good. You must be on your guard."
Elrond agreed. "Our number of warriors is diminished however," Erestor added. "A very large number of them went on a hunting expedition into the Trollshaws two days ago, and are not expected to return for a fortnight." He shook his head. "But I do not doubt that we shall find our young lord," he continued in a more hopeful vein. "Our scouts shall find the trail, even with their diminished numbers."
"Perhaps," was all the Istar would answer.
000
When finally his captors cut the ropes that bound him, Elrohir slumped to the floor, in great pain and only barely conscious. The beating he had received at their hands had been brutal, though they obviously didn't mean to kill him—not yet, anyway.
He wavered in and out of consciousness of some time, lost in a haze of fear and pain. Slowly, he began to be semi-aware of his surroundings again.
They had given him no blanket, but being an elf (even an injured one), he did not mind the chill so much. He lay on his stomach, which ached and burned horribly with every breath, although he felt too weak to move. His head throbbed, as well, and all his limbs.
The men, as he observed through half-closed eyes, sat about the fire, talking.
"They'll be lookin' for this one soon," one of the men said—the one with the deep and raspy voice.
Delwon agreed. "Garaveg and his men will be here anytime," he added. "It is good that these cellars are extensive, or we would all be too crowded in here."
There was silence for a little while; one of the men poked the fire, which was now quite small; probably so the smoke would go undetected. Elrohir longed to shift into a more comfortable position than on his battered chest and stomach, but when he tried to move, his ribs screamed and burned, and he had to bite back a gasp of agony. At least one of his ribs must be broken, as he should have realized before. Luckily, someone had spoken just at that moment, so Delwon didn't realize Elrohir was awake.
"Don't go getting' that marker in the fire," Raspy-Voice said, and a couple of the men chuckled.
"Yes, we cannot afford to lose another, as Radek did," Delwon replied, which garnered its own round of snickers.
"'Tweren't his fault the thong broke," someone objected hotly. "Radek's the best of men."
"So he is," Delwon said, but apparently only Elrohir caught the sneer in his voice, for the loyal man piped down.
"How do them markers work, anyhow?" a third man asked.
Raspy-Voice snorted. "It's elf-magic, Bert. Same as what's keeping us hidden, and Radek's men, too."
"And here's Garaveg and his men now," Delwon said, rising. The others stood as well, though they had heard nothing. In a moment, the sound of feet on stone could be heard, and then a slew of men poured into the room, led by an elf with a horn at his hip.
"Mae govannen," Delwon greeted him.
Most of the men did not stop in the room with their leader, but when straight on through. Elrohir realized the door to the rest of the cellars must lay behind him. The men walked right around him without a pause, so close that Elrohir was afraid for a moment that they were going to step on him.
Garaveg said, "I see you have dealt with Elrond's whelp." Elrohir winced internally as he felt Garaveg's eyes pass over him.
"Yes," Delwon said, "I think you will find his looks improved a bit when you see him in better light."
Garaveg laughed; the sound was cold and hard as ice. "He need not look attractive for our purposes," he observed.
"No," Delwon agreed, "I think the length of his hair will be the least of his troubles, once we have finished our work."
TBC
AN: I'm sorry, I know that was short, but I figured you'd rather I went ahead and got it posted anyway rather than making you wait even longer while I thought of a way to lengthen it!
While in Indiana, I got to have a nice long conversation with my cousin Beth, and we got on the topic of LotR. I asked her if she'd read it, and she said she'd started to read The Silmarillion once, but got confused at all the F names and had to quit. I had quite a laugh over that.
I thought of nick-naming Raspy-Voice Deep Throat but decided not to. :)
Laer4572: True…
crazycatluver: —salutes— Yes, Ma'am!
RenegadeKitsune: Actually, I did think up some good stuff: I figured out how the heck I'm going to get them all out of this mess!
werewolflemming: Unfortunately, they didn't end up UPSing HBP to me, so I haven't even cracked it yet! That's next on my agenda…
Fk306: Well, the places where they cut his hair, Delwon put the scissors right up against his head. So it's not like it's shaved, but it's very short, like a buzz cut, and practically the equivalent of being bald for an elf. :( I feel bad for the poor guy.
Ravens Destiny: I don't know, does he? —smiles mysteriously—
Madd Hatter: Exactly. I'm glad everybody is approaching Elrohir's haircut with as much sympathy and appalledness (is that a word?) as I intended.
AlabrithGaiamoon: Eep! Run, Delwon! Oh, wait. I hate him as much as you do... —shrugs, picks up a toilet brush and joins the charge—
Melisande Mab: Yay! Thank you!
Darkened Dreams: Now that you mention it, I've already beat up Katie, and now I'm beating up Elrohir! lol
Thanks also to Princess Siara, IwishChan, Doredhiel, Arlindor, theycallmemary and Erasuithiel. You're all lovely people! Mwa!
Please review, while I go off and start reading Half-Blood Prince!