DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN LORD OF THE RINGS

This disclaimer applies to both ch.8 and ch.9

Thanks a million to: sk8erbabz, Smiley Face3, Lear4572, LegolasIsMine, Tiffany-45, Crecy, Illeanah, Angel312, and SamWiseGirl12, who all reviewed! THEY are the ones who got this chapter up.

Fionan, Imeron, and I walked into the dining hall. Fionan was still scolding me about holding us up and making us tardy.

"Honestly, Ondraya, can't you ever be on time? We were doing just fine until you felt the need to go running off and throw yourself to the dogs—literally."

I turned red and attempted to discreetly brush some of the mud from the dogs off of my skirts. "I did not throw myself to the dogs, Fionan." My scowl deepened as I bit my lip, preventing any of my more untoward remarks from slipping.

Be nice, Ondraya. I ordered myself.

Fionan huffed. "The situation wouldn't have been half as bad if you hadn't been pestering Lord Elladen on top of it all."

"I wasn't pestering anyone!"

"O, c'mon, Fionan!" Imeron interrupted. "We both know that Ondraya's just got worse curiosity than that cat who's always getting killed."

Fionan chuckled. "You certainly have a unique perspective on the world, my friend. That cat is not real."

Imeron looked truly surprised. "Really? I dunno, Fionan, I think he's real."

Fionan gave him a skeptical glance. "How can one always get killed? It is possible to die only once."

Imeron smile grew, as though only he had the secret to the riddle. "Nope; that's where your wrong. Satisfaction always brings the cat back."

Fionan rolled his eyes. "O, enough of that. We are at the dining hall. Compose yourselves." He gave me a sharp glance and then pushed the door open.

I glowered over the fact that he was still angry at me, but quickly tried to wipe my face clear when the other people at breakfast came into view.

"Ah! Fionan! There you are!" Lord Elrond called. "We were worried; everyone believed that some mishap had befallen you."

Fionan gave me another quick glimpse before replying, "Only the mishaps that I suffer daily, my lord."

There was a small chortle, for apparently his reference to me had not been missed. As a servant directed me to my seat, I found that I was once again hiding angry, red cheeks.

"Don't let them get to you," Someone whispered amusedly in my ear.

I turned and stared into the face of Prince Legolas.

"Good morning, your highness." I forced a good tone into my voice.

He smiled. "I see that someone met the dogs of Lord Elrohir."

I was confused for a moment. How could he possibly know that? Then I looked down and realized that I had missed a very distinct paw print in my primping earlier.

"Yes, the cause of our tardiness, I'm afraid." Fionan interjected. "After we recovered Miss Ondraya from the hounds, though, Imeron told her that she was more curious than 'that cat who is always getting killed'."

Everyone laughed at the remark, and Imeron smiled as though someone had given him a badge for being the cleverest person in the world.

"He's one to talk," I grumbled and he stuck his tongue out at me childishly, still grinning.

The subject quickly faded, however, as a noble at the other end of the table started a conversation about a piece of literature. I zoned out of the dialogue, though, for I had no interest in such topics.

My reverie was only broken when a plate was finally placed before me. The dish seemed to be some sort of bread, topped with honey and berries.

I glanced around and saw that most conversation had quieted as the five or six other diners eagerly tucked into their breakfasts.

I looked back to my dish. It had to have honey. I had done well in avoiding the horrible substance ever since I escaped from Dagrius. Yet it seemed that the day of reckoning had finally come, and the honey was already beginning to draw up certain, distinct memories…

I put the plate down on the table for Dagrius—it was his noontime meal and today was my day to serve him.

He eyed me appreciatively as I set the food before him. "Ondraya, my pretty darling, it has been long since I last saw you."

"Indeed it has, my lord." I murmured softly, keeping my eyes downcast.

He grabbed my wrist before I could withdraw my hand from the platter. "Where have you been hiding? I haven't seen you since the last time you had to be punished for attempting to run off. My poor, little Ondraya—always getting crazy ideas in her head. It never ceases to amaze me." He pulled my chin closer to his face. "I have been awfully hungry lately."

It was clear that he was not referring to food, and I did not attempt to stop him when he eagerly pressed his lips to mine I did not attempt to thwart him when he began to run his hands along the length of my body, either, even when he became more and more aggressive, his arousal growing.

He was never known for his gentleness when it came to such matters, but it still took me completely unawares when he reached for the large, silver knife on the table. He sliced cleanly through the threads of my blouse—and several layers of my flesh.

The second that I felt the warm blood flowing freely down my chest, instinct seized me. I threw my arms out, knocking the knife from his grasp and striking him straight across the cheek.

There was only one, frozen moment, when I saw intense rage in Dagrius's eyes, before I was down on the ground. He was screaming obscenities at me, swinging his fists in blinded fury. I felt the bruises forming already, and there was no moment of relief before he grabbed the jar of honey on the table and shattered it on the floor next to me. Shards of glass bit into my face and I screamed. But he was far from finished.

A devious grin spread over his features and he shouted for more honey. I tried to get to my feet, to get away, but he kicked me back down and easily held me there. Another girl quickly rushed in and set several more jars of honey down on the table before scurrying back out.

He took one of the containers in his hands, that wicked grin still upon his face. "Perhaps this will sweeten your demeanor, my little dove." His words mocked me, and his laugh echoed in my ears as he began to pour the honey over my face. I gagged as it slowly crept its way up my nostrils and down my throat. My eyes were squeezed shut, yet there was no reprieve. The honey burned in the cuts made from the glass, and it seemed forever that I could not breathe. The honey was so thick and sweet, like molasses, that it completely cut off my airways; the weight of Dagrius upon my chest was no help, either. The irony of it all occurred to me, of course—this death by sweet strangulation.

Yet I layed there for what seemed an eternity. I was bitterly aware of my very exposed chest, as it was still bleeding freely and the pain was so sharp, it burned. The sting from the cuts would have had me screaming, as well, but I could draw no breath. I was in bitter agony and he knew it. He enjoyed it.

Finally, what I deemed eons later, he hauled me to my feet. A small towel was thrown at me, but I was coughing and sputtering, trying to force the honey to relent its hold on my air passages.

"Quit your gagging! Get out of my sight!" He growled.

I remember that I had blindly staggered for the door, still on the desperate endeavor of drawing air. But my throat had been clogged, my face and chest in excruciating torment, and it was nearly impossible to find my way. My hands and neck were covered with honey, and I could not wipe it from my eyes or nose. Then, as though a gift of the gods, I felt grass under my feet—I was outside!

Vomit had risen from my stomach, however, and I doubted that there was any more room in my throat. I bent over, and gravity took its course. The honey and all of my stomach fluids presented themselves on the grass, over and over. It was another long moment before I could draw fresh air.

For weeks after the event, my hair was incredibly sticky, and it seemed that no amount of water or soap would ever be able to permanently remove the viscous coating from my long tresses. The smell followed me wherever I went, like a plague. I also had to wear bandages across my chest for several months, which hindered any movement that I made with more and more unbearable pain.

Since that day, I had never been able to look at honey the same. The very thought of it was enough to make me gag and the sight of it always seemed to induce pains in my chest—pains strangely similar to those made my a knife. They were the same pains that I was getting now.

I looked around the room again, almost frantic. No one noticed my despair. But they couldn't understand anyway.

My neck felt clammy under my long hair, and I began to draw deep breaths, trying to reassure myself that I was not going to suffocate.

"I…I…please excuse me. I think I need to go to my room for a moment," I sputtered out, and, without waiting for an answer, fled the dining hall. I was intensely aware of the six or so pairs of eyes that burned into my back, but I paid them no heed. The pain in my chest was growing sharper and my breathing was becoming ragged. I had already broken out into an anxious sweat some time ago.

Suddenly, I felt grass under my feet, and the awul day rushed fully back to me, hitting me like a ton of bricks. I fell to my knees behind a rose bush and wretched. My stomach was empty, but I could do nothing to stop the heaving.

My cheeks burned in remembrance of the humiliation that I had suffered from Dagrius. It wasn't just that incident—there had been countless others. I was, of course, used to being beaten in Dagrius's keep, but that had been the first time that he had ever pulled a weapon on me. That had been the first time that I had ever come so close to death, his laughter ringing in my ears. Yet that would not be the last time. I would suffer a dozen more near-death experiences before I escaped from Dagrius.

Finally, the pain in my chest subsided, and the dizziness that had forced me to the ground relented. I sat there for some time, gasping for fresh air.

Two pairs of feet appeared before me, and Haldir knelt down; Prince Legolas was close behind him.

"Ondraya, are you alright?" Haldir put a large hand to my shoulder.

I merely nodded, not trusting my ability to speak.

"What happened? Why did you leave?" Legolas inquired. Genuine concern was etched on his face.

"I…I felt very ill all of a sudden. I think that it may have been a result of the…the incident the other night." They both knew that I was referring to the break-in of Traven and his fellow rats.

"Yes," Haldir murmured speculatively. "I think you should have stayed abed longer; you are not fully recovered from the mishap."

I just nodded again, allowing him to help me up. Legolas placed a hand on my other shoulder, to steady me.

"We will return you to your room. You must rest more." Haldir instructed. "I will inform Lord Elrond that, for the rest of the day, you are indisposed."

"Would you like your breakfast brought to your room?" Legolas offered.

"No!" I practically shouted, instantly receiving strange looks. I quickly brought myself back under control and thought of an excuse for my sudden outburst. "No, no thank you. I don't think I can handle any food right now."

They nodded and we arrived at my door.

"I will send a maid to help you change," Haldir stated. "Then you will rest for the remainder of the day. No more gallivanting around the city until Lord Elrond says that you are truly capable."

"Yes. Thank you." I replied simply, wearily, and with a turn of the knob, I slipped into my room without another word.

I had no intentions of waiting for a maid, of course, and quickly changed into a robe that was meant for sleeping. I slipped a day cloak over it, so as not to offend any passing nobles with my impropriety, and I started out the door.

My intentions, naturally, were to sneak into the kitchen and grab a heel of bread or biscuit—anything to settle my queasy stomach. I had taken two steps, however, when I heard the voices down the hall. As soon as I realized to whom the voices belonged, though, I halted myself.

"I do not trust her," Haldir stated. "She is hiding something. All of Rivendell knows that she is up to no good and that she has a hidden agenda."

My brows knitted together. Pompous ass.

"I do not know what to think, my friend. She certainly is a strange girl."

"I am warning you now, Legolas, to avoid her. The Lady Galadriel and I spoke about her, and we both agree that something about her is…off."

"Then why did the Lady want her brought to Rivendell?"

"She did not say. Her exact orders to me, however, were to warn Lord Elrond that the girl is trouble. Not only that, but she is crude and barbaric. The Lady also wanted me to tell Lord Elrond that the Valar have some hand in the girl's destiny, and that in order for her fate to unfold, she must remain in Rivendell."

"What destiny?"

"Even the Lady could not say, but I think that it is a corrupt one--the girl herself is corrupt, Legolas, or else she would not need to be under the supervision of Lord Elrond. The Lady told him to watch Ondraya because Galadriel is sure that whatever it so strange about her will manifest itself in ugly truths."

"And what did Lord Elrond have to say about all of this?"

"He was perturbed, of course, but he will handle the situation as only he can. I have utmost faith in him. As for you and I, however, we should steer clear of her unless Lord Elrond needs us to baby sit her."

"You don't think that those attacks the other night were random, do you Haldir?"

"Of course not. Rivendell is more than well-guarded. Only a fool would try to break in simply for the sake of thievery. No. Those criminals had a vendetta to settle—and I believe that Ondraya's life was the debt owed. If we had not come when we did, she would certainly be dead."

"Yes, I agree with you there," Legolas murmured, clearly deep in thought.

"But come," Haldir began once more. "Let us not allow the girl to ruin what's left of our breakfast. I'm sure it will still be warm if we get back soon."

I listened as their footsteps faded down the hall. Rage had been building within me and I stormed back into my room, releasing my fury on the door with a slam.

Trouble? Warn Lord Elrond?

Well. I knew better than to stay anywhere that I was not welcome—destiny or no.

And with that, I began to throw my few, meager belongings into my travel pack.

Well. I really hope that you enjoyed that. I'm sorry that it's been so long. I know that the chapter was long overdue. But please review and lemme know whatcha thought : )

Crimson