Thanks for the nice reviews! Beauseof your reviews, I decided to update again...again not doing homework...stupid college level German...grrr...anyway, here you go, hope you like it! Oh, and in case anyone is wondering, but I doubt it, I still don't own Lord of the Rings! Enjoy! Here,have a Cookie!(throws cookies at readers like fish and trained sea lions!

Prisoner

When Eriathwen woke again it was mid afternoon. A tray on the table beside the bed had a slice of bread and a strange fruit she had never seen before lying on it. She picked up the slightly ob-long, round fruit and studied its semi-firm green-red surface. Deciding that it could wait, she turned to the glass next to the fruit, and quickly downed its contents, being as she was extremely thirsty. Water, plain water.

She put the glass down with a satisfied clunk, and looked in the pitcher on the table to see if there was any more. Forgetting the glass, she picked up the pitcher, and drained half the liquid inside the beautifully designed vessel. She then turned her attention to the fresh bread, still slightly warm, and the unique fruit that was still left.

She finished them in a matter of seconds, deciding she must ask the prince where she could get more of the fruit the next time she saw him. When she thought about him however, the memories of their last conversation came flooding back, and she decided she would rather ask an orc to spend a romantic evening with her alone than to be within ten feet of him again. But she was sure to encounter him, since she was staying in what she assumed was his, or at least his father's house. Which brought up another good point, how was she to get out of there?

A quick look at the door told her that it was not locked, unless there was some sort of latch on the out side, but it proved not so when she turned the knob and the door slowly opened soundlessly. She gave a triumphant smile and began to walk out when she saw to guards standing in her way. What? What gives? Leave it to the Mirkwood elves to station guards in front of my door. She decided to find out what was going on.

"Excuse me, could you please let me through?" she asked nicely to one of them.

"Sorry, I am under strict orders not to let you out. Any thing you need can be brought to our attention, and we will get it for you." He spoke with much authority, even though he was but a guard, and she decided not to push the matter. She turned to the other one.

"I suppose you are under the same orders, huh?" the guard simply nodded with out a word, but she noticed a hint of a smile when she had asked him. So they find this amusing do they? Locking me up in a room all alone is funny now? Well I have a window, so we will just se how long I stay in here! She thanked them and closed the door, then quickly crept quietly to the window and opened it. There was a small balcony, and a tree with overhanging branches that grew right next to it. This will be so easy! She thought as she began to put her leg over the top of the railing. But like a boat on the relentless rocks of the sea, her hopes where quickly dashed to pieces as she saw the four guards standing below her window at the base of the tree. I guess I will be here a long time. She thought as her drug her feet back inside and plopped down on her bed. Once there she began to scream hopelessly.

She never cried; she didn't know how. Pain never bothered her in the physical form. It was the emotional form that got her, but since she did not deal with other people often, she didn't have many emotions to play with. She was so used to having freedom, and being able to wander wherever she wished. She couldn't remember the last time she was inside an actual structural building, and never before in her life had she been forced to stay in a room, unless you count the first years of her life before she had run away. Here she was locked in, like a cage. She had lost her freedom, and was deeply insulted by the way it was stripped away from her. And besides, her shoulder really hurt, not that she would normally let it bother her, but her sudden depression only seemed to remind her of its pain that was so constant, like the pain in her life.

So now, alone in her prison, she howled, not cried, her heart out, wishing with all her might that she was home, wherever that might be. And then she realized that she didn't have one, and that only made her yell and scream all the more harder. She could throw a pretty big fit sometimes. To any other's eyes, she would have looked like a brat.

The guards heard her of course, but they were unsure of what to do. The guards at the base of the tree heard her too, even through the once again closed windows. Finally one at her door left his post, and walked down the hall to find the prince. After ten straight minutes of her wailing, she was beginning to give him and the others a headache.

Legolas had heard an unnatural wailing sound coming from down the corridor and had begun to walk down it, in search of whatever it might be when he saw the guard walking hurriedly towards him. Catching his eye, he understood immediately what was going on and took off running in the direction her room. He burst through the door and into her room but stopped dead as he saw her there on her bed, pouring out her heart and soul.

He didn't know why, but it almost broke his heart to see her panting there as she ceased to bay. He walked carefully up, and put an arm gently around her shoulders. "Its ok, we aren't going to hurt you. You are just in temporary confinement, that's all. No one is going to try and kill you." He regretted almost immediately what he said.

"Then why am I here? Why did you shoot at me? Huh? Why did you not just let me be?" her body shook with rage and frustration as she began to grow angry and her voice caught in her throat. He rubbed her back soothingly. I can't believe I am comforting her. I am beginning to wish I had killed her in the forest. But pity once again over took him as he tilted her chin up and looked softly in her eyes.

"Feel better now?" he asked when she had finished. "Yeah," she answered, "actually I do. Thank you. You may want to clean your shirt though." She remarked with what was almost a laugh. He looked down at his shoulder and sleeve unamused and frowned when he saw that she had accidentally drooled on it. Well it's not like it can't be washed. He found himself thinking as he realized how miner of a flaw it was.

"Well I am glad I could be of assistance. How is your shoulder feeling, better?" he placed his hand on her shoulder and began to move the shirt out of the way to look at it when she stopped him.

"Please, let me, I would rather you not touch me." He got the message clearly and backed off a few feet and stood and watched as she inspected her shoulder.

"Would you like the mirror again?" he asked, trying to be helpful, although he still couldn't imagine why anyone would want to be around her.

"No, I, I think I am ok. Yes it is feeling much better. After all, elves do heal quickly." She half smiled and gazed longingly out the window. "At least, in most cases they do." He wondered what that meant, but before he could ask, she changed the subject.

"By the way," she began icily, "I can too shoot a bow, quite good if I might add. It is you I have to wonder about, having missed hitting your target, and it was a lady, and all. Which I still want to know how you could shoot to harm, but not kill." She was trying to get him to take her out side. Luckily her plan worked.

"Well if you are feeling up to it, I could show you how. Granted I will be shooting at a target, but I can at least show off how good I am with a bow." He smiled at her. He decided that if she was going to be there, he might as well try to make it as pleasant as possible, that way he, or any of the other occupants, would not have to endure any more of her dreadful crying, he hoped.