Disclaimer: The lord of the Rings, and the characters associated with it are not mine, and are strictly property of J.R.R. Tolkien.

CH 9

oOoOoOo

The cell door slowly creaked open as the blinding light of Anor streamed through the agape arch, revealing the silhouettes of three dark figures just outside the murky confinement. The Elven captives quickly jerked awake by the abrupt entry, and their attention was immediately diverted to the Men as they strode into the chamber.

They were heavily armed, weapons held readily in front of them and dark eyes wide and observing. There was no fear in them, only a superior arrogance that demanded obedience and respect. And when they came to a halt before the Lady Galadriel and Lord Celeborn, their rifles trained, they had little choice but to do what they were demanded of.

The Elven lady was forced to her feet by a rough hand on her slim arm, but when the silver-haired monarch shifted to follow his beloved wife, eyes filled with worry, he was forcefully pushed back before he was barely able to lift himself up from the ground.

"Galadriel…" The Elf Lord started.

"Celeborn, no," She quickly rebutted as she was lead out the door. "Do nothing foolish, I will be alright."

Before a response could be formed, the door was securely shut, and Galadriel beyond her husband's reach. Indecision was clearly written across Celeborn's fair face, and his eyes darted back and forth around the room in rapid succession uncertain as to what he should do. Part of him wanted to charge at the door, and fight against it until he broke through, yet the other logical part feared what retribution he and his companions might suffer should he be caught doing something so foolish.

He suddenly felt the urge to weep, borne from both the worry for his beloved, and out of the frustration he had suffered ever since being captured and imprisoned like wild animals by these confounded Edain. He buried his head in a hand with a sigh, thumb and forefinger slowly massaging his pulsing temples.

"Celeborn," Mithrandir's gruff voice murmured in the resounding silence of the spacious cell. "are you well?"

"No, Gandalf," he finally replied after a lingering moment of silence. "I am not well, nor do I think I will be for a long time. I only pray to Eru that no harm comes to her and that she will be alright."

"Lady Galadriel is strong. I do not think she will be so easily daunted by these Men."

"This I know, though your words do little to comfort me."

"I know," the Wizard sighed. "but I can do little more."

"Confound these Edain to the deepest levels of Udun!" Celeborn spat before he stood from the cold cement floor, and he began to pace the expanse of the room as his aggravation mounted. "We must find a way out! But how we may do this, I know not."

"Then mayhap this is a good time to figure it out," Elrond countered. "Do not allow your worry for your lady to overcome you, Celeborn. We need your wisdom, and you will be of little use if your mind is overclouded by grief. We must solve this riddle, and soon." That said, the former Lord of Rivendell beckoned over his comrades, and together they sat in a small ring in contemplation, voicing ideas that perhaps would aid their escape.

For a long time they sat, debating on their course of action, yet no idea seemed plausible enough. But they were a determined bunch, and none were willing to give up. They were the last of their kind, and after all these many millennia of existence, they were not willing to fade now in this dreary place, among such dark hearted creatures.

"Well," Erestor sighed. "we know we cannot fight our way out. That much is obvious. A single shot from their weapons could quite possibly kill us."

"Perhaps not," pondered Legolas aloud, and the others turned their heads to look at him questioningly. "You, yourself, have said as much, Gandalf. These Men do not want us dead. We could attempt to fight our way out… though we are greatly outnumbered and our chances of success are extremely slim."

"Aye," the Istar replied. "however, it is quite possible that they captured us simply to seek information of some sort, information we neither possess nor are capable of giving. Once they realize that we are useless to them they may not hesitate to kill us."

"And let us not forget Glorfindel," Elrond proceeded. "He has not yet the strength to defend himself were we to plan a revolt."

"Which leads us right back from whence we started," Celeborn said. "How do we escape?"

"A diversion,"

All eyes turned to the wounded figure slouched against the wall as his raspy voice, normally strong and powerful, muttered the quiet words.

"If we were to divert their attention, somehow," Glorfindel elaborated. "we could quite possibly make our escape,"

"Yes," the silver haired Eldar replied. "Yes, I see what you mean. If we could somehow attract their attention away from us, it could be our means of liberation."

"Precisely,"

"How do you propose we do that?" Erestor asked, and the seneschal sighed.

"I do not yet know."

"Well, then," the Wizard said. "we best figure out a way."

oOoOoOo

There words were harsh and demanding as they spat at her, commanding things of her she could not understand, and desperately she tried to block out the taunting voices around her. But she could not escape their sadistic words.

From the moment they had dragged her from the cell she had tried to avoid their rugged manhandling, as well as their inappropriate touches. They had lead her from the brick structure, and into one of the larger tents among the center of the leaguer. As they walked, she carefully scrutinized her surroundings. The dried dirt her elegant feet padded across had once been rich soil covered in grass not long ago, now destroyed by inadequate care and much treading. The pikes of the human heads she had seen mounted yesterday were still present in their original places, now festering with flies, and her heart quelled in remorse for the lost lives. Young boys, she saw, were being instructed by several of their elders, scaling odd obstacle courses, while others practiced their aim with the long, tube-like weapons these people carried on a shooting range. She closed her eyes as her heart ached further still, for she knew that these children were being trained to be just like their seniors; vicious killers without remorse. The Men's mechanical mounts created a rising cloud of dust as they noisily rode across the bare terrain. Many Men strode across the large encampment as they did the day before, each occupied with their own task. It then occurred to her that no women were on the premises, none that she had seen, at least.

However, this place was not entirely void. Beyond the large log fences that separated the barracks from the outer world, the Elven lady's crystalline orbs caught sight of the land of rich grass and deep forest. Hale trees reached up towards the sky, their colorful leaves creating a magnificent array of red and golden showers as the wind carried them to the ground. A slight disturbance in the far off grove caught her eye, however, as a murder of crows took flight from the protective branches.

The sting of a harsh slap to her face brought Galadriel back to her present situation, and a surprised gasp left her full lips as a delicate hand rose to cup her swollen cheek, and she glared challengingly at the Man before her.

He was a fair size, slightly robust with a bearded chin, eyes dark as night and hardened with insolence, though the effects of mortality were visible on him, as well. Spots of grey ran through his facial hair, and though the sheet covering his head obscured it from vision, she had no doubt that his dark tresses appeared similar. Deep wrinkles surrounded his eyes as he sneered upon her, and his hands were gaunt and bony.

Whomever he was, there was no doubt within Galadriel's mind that he was a person of great importance. His comrades showed great respect towards him, and his aura alone seemed to demand veneration.

Astride from him was the lead young Man who had assisted in their capture. His garb was now changed to more casual clothing, she noticed, though his petulant expression remained as he bore a leer upon his face, his arms crossed firmly in front of him.

Two of the soldiers who had brought her to the tent remained, as well, posted at either side of the entrance. One was several years past his prime. The other, however, was young and slightly on the hefty side. Galadriel imagined he was at most in his early twenties, possibly younger. He was different from the rest, somehow. Whether it was the lack of facial hair, or the sympathy in his eyes, she could not clearly gather. Her eyes quickly diverted back to the apparent chief.

As she regarded him closely, he snapped several words at her in his blunt, commanding tongue, and then he paused as if expecting her to speak.

"I know not what you are saying," the Elven Lady attempted, her facial features straight, and all too serious. "Nor do I know how to respond in your language."

Her last words had barely left her lips when she was struck again by a rough hand, this one much harsher than the last, knocking her off balance and to the ground. A pained moan left her mouth, barely audible to human ears, as she staggered to her hands and knees after taking a moment to focus her vision.

Yet before she was allowed to regain her footing, she was ruthlessly grabbed by both her arms and held still by the young captain and the elder guard while their Chief unsheathed a knife tied to his belt. He then held the flat of it against the flawless skin of her neck, before lightly drawing it down further, leaving a long welt in its path, drawing little blood. The blade then dipped to the cleavage of her gown, but slowly halted there, and the Man gazed at her, reaching up a hand to run it over a swollen cheekbone almost in a possessive nature.

It was then that the golden lady realized she was very frightened, and her head flinched away from the invading tendrils as she fought against her racing heart and panting, short breaths, though her expression held little fear, and she glared heatedly at her captor. She was uncertain what was to happen to her, but she would not allow these foul monsters to tarnish her spirit.

Galadriel would not be broken.

oOoOoOo

Anor: Sun

Edain: Men

Udun: Hell

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REVIEWS:

INMH: lol.. Sorry to disappoint you, hun… In know I took my sweet $$ time with this chapter. Sorry about that… and don't worry, I doubt you could be any sicker of a puppy then me :P

ArcherofDarkness: lol, oh, okay.. I'm not too fond of cars, myself.. though for other reasons… too much pollution. Thank you :D That means a lot to me. I've worked hard on this fic. But It's not so much that they're afraid of the al-qaeda, but very aware of what they're capable of doing. Don't get me wrong, they are weary of them, though Sauron would still be a hell of a lot scarier. As for meeting Bin Laden, no, they won't. He's not in that sector. I would imagine that he would be in the US if this were ever to happen. Take care.

Randa-Chan: Hi, and thank you for your wonderful comment. Sorry this took so long, this month has been very hectic. I'm sorry about your aunt. That must have been terrible. Hope this chapter makes you feel a bit better.

Ningwen: Hey, good luck with that marching contest, and don't worry about the short review. Yeah, I know… I'm bad, lol.

LadyMilana: Thank you. Yes, I know the stereotyping would be a bit offensive, which is why I put up a warning beforehand. Thanks for that, though I pretty much know what the Al-Qaeda is. If they were to attempt to take over the world they would need sets in each area, which is what I'm getting at. Don't worry, things will become clearer as the story progresses, including where exactly this is taking place. But you'll have to wait to find out :P

Xiad Rusco: Thank you! That would be very much appreciated! :D And thanks for your web address. Sure I'll be an affiliate… just tell me what I have to do, lol.

DreaminofLorien: Yeah, I couldn't picture Legolas any other way than a respected young Elf Lord who values all life, and rules justly with a fair hand. What really drew me to Legolas, (in the book, before the movies came out) was his child-like nature. He's of a race more ancient than any other, and yet he can still be surprised and in awe of things, and has a curiosity much like a little kid. As for my favourite character… well, I have several of them, mainly Elrond, Legolas, Glorfindel, and Gandalf. Aragorn's pretty cool too, and I adore the movie version of Pippin.