Unsure in which direction to head, Andúin slowed to a halt. "I think we should continue as planned," she stated reluctantly.

"What about Jnían?" Faroth questioned.

"There's nothing more we can do," Andúin somberly explained. "Our only chance is to assume we'll meet up with them again when we reach our destination."

"I suppose that'll do," Faroth agreed. "I am worried about her."

"She's stronger then you'd think," Andúin assured him. "She's very capable."

"I had that impression," he agreed. "She seemed to handle her shoulder quite well." He looked down guiltily. After a moment of thought, he looked up again. "By the way, where is your destination?"

"Have you heard of the black fog that has been causing destruction in the South?" Andúin asked him.

"I've heard some things, but being a Ranger I haven't gotten much information concerning happenings this far east," he replied.

"Jnían and I are on a quest to save the…everything. This is the second time one of us has gotten captured."

"So then, how do you plan to save the world?" he inquired thoughtfully.

Jnían leaned her head against the stake her wrists were bound to. She was utterly exhausted from the pain and no rest to recover. Ordinarily she wouldn't need sleep, but with her hurt shoulder and bruised body she desperately needed it. She couldn't seem to fall asleep being aware of her captors and because of such physical distress. Lhach had paid several visits to her during the night. Once Lhach realized Jnían would share no information, he decided to use a new tactic.

"We'll go back north," he had stated, "They'll come for you, that's a sure thing. But until we get there you will receive no food. Yuleanía!" he shouted.

"Yes master?" a humble servant asked, entering the tent.

"Stitch her wound," he commanded. As he was exiting, he added, "and she is not to receive any food for the remainder of our journey."

"Yes, master," she quietly obeyed. Jnían sighed and drooped her head. The next few days were going to be almost unbearable.

"I see, and that brings us to the present," Faroth understood. It had been two days since the storm, and they had seen no sigh of the delegates.

"She's starting to give me trouble," Hwesta interrupted. Amáteria was getting restless and giving the small Elf trouble, and it was easy to tell.

Andúin chuckled. "I guess Tree Elves weren't built for horses." Hwesta giggled nervously, and clutched the beautiful animal's reins tighter.

Jnían's wrists were rubbed raw and bloody. Her shoulder was almost fully healed, but there was a deep ache in her stomach for any form of substance. She could feel dark circles lying beneath her eyes. She longed to escape, but her body was too weak. But finally to her timely relief waves of grogginess swept over her, and sleep took a firm hold.

"Faroth, do you truly believe Jnían is alright?"

"I know no more then yourself, Mi'Lady."

"I know…I just need to hear you say she is alright."

Faroth sighed. They had stopped for a short break in the night to get a little sleep. It had been five says since Jnían's kidnapping, and they hadn't even seen another person on their journey. He knew Jnían was strong, with her Elvin blood, but that wouldn't stop them from killing her if she didn't serve her purpose for them. And he doubted she'd told them anything. He admired that in her…

"Faroth? Please," Andúin's timid voice broke his thoughts.

"I'm sure she's fine," he said. "Maybe she's even escaped. From what you've told me the two of you have gotten out of tight situations before."

They both suddenly heard a loud screech from overhead, and soon Aátrius could be seen circling them. Andúin stood, holding out her arm, which he was soon perched upon. He again screeched, and then tugged slightly on her hair before taking flight again. He called once more and began to fly back the direction they had come.

"Come!" Andúin ordered Faroth, running on foot swiftly after Aátrius. Faroth shrugged, leaving Hwesta with the horses, and then followed after her retreating figure.

"I can't believe they've been following us all this time," Andúin murmured disgustedly. Aátrius had led them about a half day's brisk walk back where they had come, and right upon Lhach and his men's campsite.

"It makes sense though," Faroth commented, watching several men wander near the edges of the camp, talking amongst themselves. "If they capture all four of us, they know we'll say nothing, and they will get nowhere. So they just take one person, following the others…"

"…and she becomes a bargaining tool," Andúin finished solemnly. "And we played right into their hands."

"We need to get Jnían out," Faroth stated. "If they don't have her, even if they still follow, we will have no reason to give them anything.

"I have an idea," Andúin replied after thinking for a few minutes. "She's most likely being held near the middle of the camp so: infiltration."

Faroth grinned at her. "Brilliant," he said. "Let me handle this." They waited until only one man was near their hiding place before Faroth sent a well aimed arrow into the man's heart. He ran forward, quickly shrugging on the man's outer wear over his own Dunedain garb, pulling the hood up. He just hoped not to be questioned.

Faroth made his way through the camp as casually as he could. Most of the men were already in their tents, and Faroth was only forced to deal with one, who was satisfied with a quick greeting before continuing on.

Finally he reached what he had been searching for. A small tent stood near the middle of the camp, a single guard standing before the entrance. Faroth threw his wrist forward in a snapping motion, and a pocketknife fell from his gauntlet. He slipped it into his right hand, easily concealing the blade.

He casually approached the man, nodding in brisk greeting. "Do you have night guard of the captive then?" Faroth questioned the man.

"Sadly," the man replied, stifling a yawn. "The entire night."

"How would you like me to relieve you of that duty?" Faroth asked, moving to within inches of the other man. Before he could scream for help, Faroth had quickly ended his life with the small knife buried in his neck. Faroth pulled his body into the tent, and then turned to face the center.

Tied to the middle stake was Jnían's weak body. She raised her head slowly up to look at him, her eyes dark. "I will tell you nothing," she growled, then spit at the earth by his boots.

Faroth said nothing, but quickly removed his hood, moving towards her.

"Faroth!" Jnían exclaimed.

Groaning, she tried to sit up.

"Don't move," he warned her. He quickly snapped the ropes around her wrists, and then put one arm around her back, and the other under her knees. He easily lifted her and headed for the opening in the tent. Once outside Faroth was headed back toward Andúin. Jnían's groans aroused a little opposition from a guard, but he was quickly silenced.

Once again hidden, Faroth lowered her limp body to the ground slowly. Andúin opened her flask of water and held up Jnían's head. First she wet her lips, and then Jnían began to drink. Although her captors had given her water, it wasn't very plentiful. Soon Jnían was able to sit up. Hwesta had treated Jnían's wrist, and other small wounds. Andúin handed her a piece of bread, and within a minute it had disappeared.

They set up camp, and all four to them were eager for sleep. Faroth noticed Jnían's eyes. They were a dreary gray color with no lively gleam. When he was sure everyone was sleeping soundly, he shut his own eyes.