Elrond was still sitting on the bed. He was hungry, and thirsty and far more tired than he could remember being in many hundreds of years. His arms ached fiercely from being manacled behind his back, and he had no idea where he was, or what these people could possibly want with him.
There was a small window in this cell, high up, far too high to see out of, but it let in light, and Elrond was able to tell that the sun was low in the sky, it would be dark soon.
The door to the cell opened suddenly, and two men clad in clothing similar to the style first worn by Rory when she arrived in the time of the Last Alliance, what she called a standard military uniform, entered the small space. This must mean he had captured by a military group of some kind.
He looked the men over, one carried a weapon of the kind apparently called a gun, he had seen the injuries Rory's guns could inflict, and came to the conclusion he would do best to obey men thus armed for the present.
'You, lie face down on the bed,' the armed man said gruffly, his gun pointed at Elrond.
Elrond obeyed, and the second, smaller man, unlocked the steel from his wrists, freeing him.
'Hey, Mac, this dude's got pointy ears!' said the small man.
'So he does. Hey, buddy, what the shit are you?' asked the man with a gun. Elrond turned a little from his face down position to look at the one who addressed him, a huge man, with a heavily muscled frame, and very short black hair.
'An elf', Elrond replied, considering that even if he could overpower the smaller man, and if the big man was not armed, he could very likely still not defeat such a powerfully built man in hand to hand combat. Then there was the matter of the locked door.
'Elves don't exist, you crazy bastard', said the small man.
'Then how do you explain me?' said Elrond.
'I can't, but that means shit to me', the small man said.
'My mother's people tell stories of Elves, and how there are few left on the planet. Most left for somewhere else centuries ago. They're supposed to be strong, very quick, unbelievable sight and hearing, tough buggars.' He hauled Elrond back to a sitting position by his hair, and it was all he could do to suppress a cry of pain. 'See, Redfern, he's got the pointy ears, the arched eyebrows, the pale skin; he seems to tally with the description of Elves that I've heard'.
'Whatever, we're just here to feed him, and clean him up a bit'.
'So, you injured anywhere', the small man asked.
Elrond now recognised the big man from the strange machine. He was the one who had taken such delight in throwing the smaller elf around so roughly. 'No, just sore from the way your large friend threw me around like I am a rag doll'.
That comment earned Elrond a stinging slap to the face, and he tasted blood from his lip being split. He did not move, or acknowledge the blow, and the big man laughed.
'Tough bastard all right. Arrogant too'.
'Don't hurt him. Remember what he's here for.' The smaller man, whose name was apparently Redfern, had left the cell and was now back, carrying a tray, which he placed on the small table in the room, 'Here, whatever or whoever you are, eat. You're going to need it'.
Elrond made no comment, but moved to table and ate, taking little notice of what kind of foods he ate. He was thirsty, and wished they had brought him something to drink, and then noticed a glass being held out to him by Redfern. He took it and drained it quickly.
'We gotta look after this one, Mac' said Redfern. He's going to give the bosses a lot of sport, I think'. Something in the way this was said sent a chill of fear through Elrond, although to look at him you would never know.
'Yeah, reckon you might be right.' Said the big man as they left the cell.
Elrond stared after them for a few seconds, and then lay down on the narrow hard bed. He tried to sleep, as he had a horrible feeling he would need it.
Meanwhile, the rescue group have passed a reasonably peaceful evening. Apart from a close inspection by a pride of lionesses on the hunt, whom they quickly convinced to move on the night was quiet. Brin was far more worried by the lion encounter than Rory or the Elves, he had shown no fear to the cats, but was relived when they moved on, and soon the scream of an antelope, followed by thunderous roars from the lionesses indicated success in their hunt.
As the scattered and terrified survivors from the antelope herd raced back by the camp, Jessryn shot one by the light from the fire, reasoning they could use the fresh meat. Rory said little, but she had been as impressed by that shot in the near dark, as she had been annoyed by his constant fretting over her well being earlier in the day. She had finally snapped at him, 'Jessryn, I'm not a china doll, I won't break!' He had been very hurt, and went off scouting for several hours.
Rory had then had to endure a lecture from Brin and Glorfindel on how Jessryn was simply showing his natural good manners in his concern for her, and secondly, that his attachment to her was sincere, that he should so worry over her. This had not amused Rory at all.
As dark had fallen, Jessryn had returned, and prompted by Glorfindel, Rory had apologised to him for yelling at him earlier. He, in turn, had promised not to crowd her so much, and the two had finished their meal sitting next to each other.
It was lucky for Brin and Glorfindel that Rory had been too busy listening to a very funny story Jessryn told of Legolas and an encounter with wolves for her to overhear their bet: That before Elrond was rescued and safely back in Rivendell, Jessryn's charm would have overcome Rory's reluctance, and he would succeed in bedding her.
The watch had passed without incident, and as the sun rose, Rory heard what she wanted to, some of her old military unit on air. She identified herself, and spoke at length to them, admitting she and some companions were after a kidnapped friend, and asking assistance.
'Well, I've called in some favours, now we need to get to the old military airstrip on the west bank of the river that flows beneath the hills over there. Don't know what it's called, but my mates were able to work out where we are from my description of the terrain. There we will be picked up by airplane, tomorrow evening.' She said.
No one had moved. 'How is this going to help Elrond?' asked Glorfindel.
'My friends believe they may know where he is. And they are willing to help us rescue him'.
That did the trick. The camp was broken quickly, excess equipment being left behind in small recess in a rocky hill. Brin used his Dwarvish skills to block the hole with stone. Soon, all four were on their way to the rendezvous point.