Hey everyone!

Wow. It's been a really, really long time since I last posted. I'm so sorry for the wait! I guess that this was just a difficult chapter to write for some reason. I think I have chronic writer's block or something, LoL.

Anyway, here's chapter nine finally! I don't have much time before I have to go right now, so I'm just going to say enjoy!

;-)

Chapter Nine: Burning Embers

Catch me as I fall

Say you're here and it's all over now

Speaking to the atmosphere

No one's here and I fall into myself

This truth drives me into madness

I know I can stop the pain if I will it all away

Don't turn away

Don't give in to the pain

Don't try to hide

Though they're screaming your name

Don't close your eyes

God knows what lies behind them

Don't turn out the light

Never sleep, never die

Evanescence

More days than Estel could count had passed since his last meeting with the visiting lord, days marked only by the single bowl of gruel that he received once every morning. Ever since his last defiance toward Vilgar, he had been exiled from the surface world, forced to toil day and night in the furnace room deep beneath the lowest floor of the fortress. Shoveling coal, day in and day out, with no company, little clothing, and no breaks save for the few hours he was allowed to sleep; Estel began to wonder if he would ever escape the horrid place. He dragged a lethargic hand across his sweaty brow, vainly trying to wipe away both dirt and perspiration. Positioning the shovel carefully, he dug deep into the endless pit of black rock and tossed yet another load into the blazing furnace.

Silence. If there was one good thing about the place, it was that no orcs served as cruel taskmasters in the bowels of the fortress. But then again, he didn't even need one. If anyone in the upper rooms felt even a slight chill, his meal for the day was gone.

As he threw one last shovel full into the blaze, he dropped the shovel dazedly from his hands and collapsed against the slick, grimy wall. His breathing was rapid, his chest rising and falling in time with his beating heart. He could hear nothing for the pounding that seemed to fill his head, and his nose was clogged with ashes that he had inhaled over a prolonged amount of time in the furnace room. Nevertheless, he smiled slightly as he relaxed into what he had begun to consider a comfortable position, and closed his eyes. A few moments rest wouldn't hurt, surely…

…as long as he didn't loose track of time.

Again.

Sitting there, watching the shadows of flames dance against the walls, Estel's mind began to wander, his thoughts drifting, once again as they had many times before, to his home in Imladris and his ada. Had Elrond begun wondering where his adopted son was yet, or were celebrations still in the process? Was someone searching for him, combing the vast corners of Middle Earth? Why hadn't they found him yet? Had they already visited this place while he was stuck in this infernal pit?

Did they even want to find him?

o-o-o

"Have you located the dark-haired one yet?" Legolas whispered fervently to his companion.

Feolin was on his hands and knees, scrubbing the floor like the horrible orc captain had instructed him. It had taken all of his willpower to keep his temper in check as the arrogant creature laughed at his position. It was only more frustrating knowing that he could have had that disgusting creature's head rolling on the floor in a second if it didn't mean blowing his cover. Legolas could tell just by looking at him that he was one unhappy elf.

Over the last month and a half, he and Legolas had spent their days in the castle, feigning interest in Vilgar's activities while they awaited the arrival of a contingent the king's men, who should've been arriving any day. So far, they had managed to locate every elf in the entire fortress (which expanded into a very large number), except for the one dark-haired elf that they had encountered on their first day. Feolin's fear was that the poor soul had been killed for his disobedience, but he was loath to voice that opinion to his prince.

"No, actually, not yet. I searched the kitchens again today, and I even took a peak into the orc's barracks, but I haven't seen a trace of him," he replied, rolling back onto his heals as he finished the last of the monotonous task. He repressed the strong desire to toss the soiled rag at the nearest orch and settled instead on dropping it in the clay washbasin beside him.

Legolas' frown deepened. "We don't have much time left… we must find him before my father's men reach this cesspool," he grunted in frustration. Feolin nodded absently, stifled a yawn, and took out the washrag once more.

Before Legolas could say another word, the sound of heavy footsteps reached the pair's elven ears. Knowing that he could not risk being discovered conversing with his so-called 'slave', Legolas bid Feolin a silent farewell and strode quickly out of the room. He did not wish to leave his dear friend alone with those disgusting creatures. No, he would not even wish that fate on some annoying, sniveling dwarf. Nevertheless, it was necessary if they wanted to continue their foray undetected. So, praying that the Valar would provide his companion with good luck, he walked down the long corridor that led to the dungeons.

The same direction that the orcs were headed.

He looked back curiously, only mildly interested in whatever the two beings were up to. They appeared to be carrying something…something heavy. He could only see the back of the first one; it was hunched over, lifting one end of something that the prince could not make out. He shrugged. Whatever it was, it was most likely to be unimportant to his mission. He continued walking forward toward the dungeons when he spotted something that he had never noticed before. It was an open door.

He stopped, wondering what in Arda this new passage could lead to. As he looked closer, he knew why he had never noticed the doorway before; the wooden door was fashioned and painted to blend in almost perfectly with the surrounding stone. He slid past the door as quietly as he could, wincing when the un-oiled hinges creaked with the movement.

The room inside was dark and musty, and it reminded him vaguely of a cave he had once ventured into as a young elfling. The only source of light came from a large pit that held piles of burning coal. Such volumes of fuel let off fumes that made even Legolas feel a bit woozy. Opposite of the fire pit was a small cart filled with un-singed coal with a rusty, worn-out shovel leaning against it. The chamber was obviously the heat source of the castle.

The prince walked in a circle within the tiny room, searching for anything else that may be of use to him. Just glancing around the room sent unwanted shivers up his spine, although why he didn't know. It seemed oddly suspicious to him that such a common addition to large palaces would be so well hidden, and it was even more strange that no one appeared to be using it. He found nothing, however, and he turned once more to exit, carefully closing the door behind him.

Legolas wasn't sure what to make of the room he had just left. Why would such a common chamber be so well hidden? There was nothing suspicious about a heating room usually, so why conceal it with a hidden doorway? He had seen anything like this ever before, though he had heard that dwarves usually fashioned hidden entrances to their realms in such ways.

What was Vilgar trying to hide?

o-o-o

Deep in the dungeons of Vilgar's castle, a small elfling was deep in thought.

At least it appeared to be that way. More than likely, it was boredom that had caused his features to become so grim and serious. The routine, sameness of every interminable day was starting to eat at the young being's mind. Each morning without fail one of Vilgar's lapdogs would startle him out of sleep with the same old cold breakfast gruel. Afterwards, it was off to the kitchens for him, where he spent his time scraping out ovens and watching giant tubs of lard (oh, by the Valar, how he hated lard). He could barely remember the last time he had even talked to someone without uttering, "Yes, master." It seemed to have happened so long ago.

He sighed. With his luck, the man would be dead by now. And once again, he would be alone. And it was all the human's fault!

A dark scowl crossed his face as the image of a man surfaced in his mind. Men were always ruining everything! His ada had told him stories… stories of pillaging thieves, of devastating wars; sadness, despair…and they all somehow involved men. Stupid, self-absorbed creatures they were, desiring nothing but their own personal gain.

It was men that destroyed his family.

Landolin slowly lifted his head as he heard heavy footsteps making their way toward him. He peered out between the metal bars that adorned his cell and squinted in the dark, where even his elven eyes had trouble seeing. All he could make out for a long time was the hunched back of an orc. But after a time, they came into the light from a dingy window, and Landolin realized that there were not only two orcs instead of one, but an unconscious figure held between them. Whoever was between them looked deathly pale, and his limbs resembled that of a naked skeleton. What was left of the being's clothes hung like rags from his worn body, and tangled with his dark brown hair.

Dark hair…

Another prisoner had been shoved in his cell for a short time, but disappeared soon after. The image was fuzzy in his mind, and he couldn't quite recall the person's name. He did know, however, that whoever it was had been very kind, and was somehow connected to Elrond. He'd been badly hurt, and he had had dark hair. He knew he should remember more in detail, but, then again, in his hazy state of mind he could hardly remember his own name, let alone some stranger's.

Suddenly awake, Landolin scrambled to his knees and shoved his face between his cell bars. He recognized that face; there was no mistaking it. Although the kindly eyes were hidden behind closed eyelids, he could tell without a doubt that this was the one he remembered. As he watched with bated breath, a name suddenly surfaced in his mind, and he broke out in a wide grin.

Estel!

There you have it: chapter nine! Hope you all liked it!

viggomaniac: He he. You're right, we do need some more "Estel in defiance" mode, don't we? Well, since he was mostly incapacitated in this chapter, I'm gonna have to say, next chapter baby! ;-) Sorry bout that. P.S. Hope your fried brain gets better.

grumpy: Thanks for reviewing! Maybe I'll have more about Elladan later too.

jacquelinestel and wackoranger: Hey, glad you liked it! I just couldn't resist putting Bilbo in. He's so wonderfully oblivious, I love him! LoL, thanks for reviewing!

Sarah: I'm glad you like my humble ficcy. Thanks so much for reviewing!

Well, I must depart from you people for now. Until we meet (or post) again!

(BTW, don't forget to review!)

CzechChicka