Chapter eight: Why Kidnapping Noldor Princes is a Bad Idea

Tolion the Telerin mariner looked down at the limp form in his arms, and then back up at his sister Niphredil. "Well, now what do we do with him?" he asked.

"Take him to my cottage," Niphredil said. "They won't dare take our ships when we have their prince. Use the wheelbarrow to move him; it will be easier than carrying him. Wait here." She walked off to find a wheelbarrow.

Tolion was left holding the unconscious prince and feeling much more sober than he had five minutes ago. He lowered the prince gently to the ground. I hope nobody comes along now, he thought, I have no idea how I will explain this. Tolion checked breath and pulse, not wanting to find himself with a dead Noldor prince on his hands. Both were steady, but the prince remained unconscious. Where is Niphredil? he wondered.

At that moment Niphredil came around the curve in the path pushing a wheelbarrow with a cloak sitting in it. "Put him in the wheelbarrow," she said. Tolion did so, and she spread the cloak over the prince, hiding him from casual view. Tolion belatedly spotted the circlet that had fallen from the prince's head, and tucked that into the wheelbarrow beside the prince. Niphredil then trundled the wheelbarrow over to the cottage which was hers as a priveledge of her position as one of the palace gardeners. Tolion came with her, and together they went into the cottage. They dumped the prince on the bed in the guest room. There they ran into their first problems: the room had no lock, and the prince twitched, clearly starting to come round.

"You'll have to tie him up or drug him," Tolion said. "He's bigger than you are, and you wouldn't win in a fair fight."

She nodded. "I have cord in the shed; I'll get it. Do you know how to tie him up so he won't get loose?"

"I can make a good guess at it."

Niphredil gave Tolion a long look. "It had better be a good guess." She left the room, and Tolion could hear her rummaging about in the shed.

Tolion turned his attention to their prisoner. He was not what Tolion had been expecting. When he thought of the Exiled Noldor, he automatically pictured someone tall, with black hair, mid-grey eyes, clad in metal armour and carrying a sword. That didn't describe the prince at all. He was of about average height for a Telerin Elda, had golden hair, and carried neither armour nor sword. His eyes, Tolion had seen earlier, were a pale silver gray very common among the Teleri. Only the hawk-like features and the heraldic designs on his tunic identified him as Noldor. He looked rather like King Arafinwe. Still, looks often belied the personality. He was probably far more dangerous than he looked right now. Tolion was glad when Niphredil came back carrying the rope.

With a good deal of trial and error, muttered cursing and wasted cord they bound, gagged and blindfolded the prince. He was definitely starting to come round now, moaning and trying to pull away from their hands and the cord. Finally, they finished. It was not a neat job, but it was thorough.

The prince threw up, and began to choke. Hurriedly, they undid the gag, but it took nearly a minute for him to stop gasping and start breathing normally. Niphredil looked at the bed in disgust. "I only put clean covers on the bed yesterday," she complained.

Tolion looked down at himself, then across at Niphredil. "We're both going to have to change," he said. "Why did he throw up?"

"Maybe something to do with the knock on the head. We had better not gag him again," she said. "Go and change, and bring a wet rag back with you, please. You can borrow one of my spare tunics."

Tolion left and changed, then came back with the rag, which Niphredil put to good use cleaning up the mess. "I've been thinking," Niphredil said. "We need to talk outside his hearing."

They left the room and the went into the living room. "This was your idea," Tolion said. "What do we do now?"

"I will put the message in the palace mail slot tomorrow morning before anyone is about," she said. "That part is easy. What I'm worried about is that he may get out of his bonds. I hear he was some sort of escape artist in his time in Middle-earth and neither of us really knew what we were doing when we tied him up. We need to sedate him, and that will take something stronger than chamomile tea. I want you to go visit the apothecary and get some strong sleeping draughts."

"Why me?"

"If they come and look for him in your ship, he won't be there. We need to keep them away from here."

"I'm not sure I like this," Tolion said. "If he has a concussion, I know sleeping draughts are not recommended first aid. I don't like the Noldor, exiled or not, but I don't want to become a kinslayer by mistake."

"You won't. And it isn't like he deserves to be out of Mandos yet anyway."

"Deserves has nothing to do with it," said Tolion. "I don't want to find myself in the Ring of Doom explaining to the Valar why this Noldo prince is dead. But I will go and get the sleeping drafts." Tolion turned, and left in search of an apothecary.

A/N: The use of kidnapping as a plot element in this story was inspired by Fiondil's Elf, Interrupted. The political situation with the Teleri and the resentment over the kinslaying is based on the Silmarillion and my own ideas.