Story Downloaded from Open Scrolls Archive (https://www.openscrolls.net)

Title: A Stolen Love (#2367)
Author: BladeEclipse
Chapters: 8
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Archive: Tolkien
Category: Femme Fatale
Description: A thief queen named Ariel has been careless in her actions and does not realize the repercussions until too late. The elves of Lothlorien, with an alliance with Gondor on the line, agree to help rid the forest near the White City of its supposed rebel occupants. Circumstances seem to look fatal as the Marchwarden, Haldir, makes his way to the forest with his company of elite elves. What will happen when Ariel and Haldir clash? A Haldir/OFC fic.
Published: 17 Nov 2005
Updated: 22 Jan 2007
Warnings: 
Type: Romance
Characters: Haldir; OFC


Chapter 1 - Be Very Afraid

A Stolen Love

Summary: A thief queen named Ariel has been careless in her actions and does not realize the repercussions until too late. The elves of Lothlorien, with an alliance with Gondor on the line, agree to help rid the forest near the White City of its supposed rebel occupants. Circumstances seem to look fatal as the Marchwarden, Haldir, makes his way to the forest with his company of elite elves. What will happen when Ariel and Haldir clash?

Category: Romance/Action/Adventure/With some humor, because life is just not good if you can’t laugh a little.

Rating: PG-13, for romantic situations and mild swearing

        Hey! This is my first fanfic, but I have been reading them for years. I have a passion for writing and I hope that I have expressed that through my story. Comments, critiques, and ideas are certainly welcome. Flames, however, will be used to set the Flamer’s house on fire. Ah, burn baby burn! Mwhahaha hahaha...cough...ha! PLEASE REVIEW!

I am also on fanfiction.net (under Blade-Eclipse), but was told to try and put it on Open Scrolls, a fine establishment I might add.

Disclaimer: The usual applies. I don’t own this amazing world of Middle Earth, that belongs to Tolkien, so don’t sue! You might get a jacked up computer and a couple dvds. I do, however, own Ariel and her friends. Mine mine mine!

Thanks for reading this note...thing...yeah...

On with the story!

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A Stolen Love

Chapter 1- Be Very Afraid

A wagon rolled slowly along the dirt path, as if cautious of the trees themselves. Warily looking about into the darkness of the woods, the driver increased the pace of the horses, hoping they wouldn’t spook too easily. This part of Gondor was believed to be inhabited by savages, men who were exiled from the White City and had apparently lost their minds. Of course, this information was only partially true, as the driver soon found out. Streams of moonlight fought their way through the tumultuous foliage, finding a resting place of the beaten path that was the only trail through the forest. The man was glad for this false sense of security. Light, in no matter how menial amount it came in, always brought comforting thoughts.

        Suddenly, the horses stopped dead in their tracks. The driver tried to no avail to get them to proceed.

“Come on, you stubborn beasts, move!” he yelled, too scared to do much else. A low hooting noise echoed throughout the trees, giving the scene an eerie tone. Shallow breathing could now be heard coming from the man.

“It’s the savages! Coming to grind my bones and drink my blood!” the man spoke loudly to himself. As if in answer to his statement, a hooded figure stopped out of the forest and onto the path.

“You have entered this wood without permission, and as such will have to pay the price,” spoke a low feminine voice. This surprised the driver.

“A-a woman? How can this be?” he whispered. A bad dream, yes, this was all just a bad dream. How cruel was fate, that he should be killed by a crazy woman? Not even a man!?

The figure pulled back her hood and the man stopped all thoughts. Her eyes those dark brown orbs, sparkled menacingly in the moonlight, enough to make the driver shrink back in fear. Her hair, reaching a little past the shoulders, was cut like almost like a man’s, and from what he could tell, eyes and hair seemed to match each other. The rest of her was a mystery, shrouded in a midnight cloak.

She took one step forward and the man whimpered with ample fear. The woman, for the moment, seemed to take pity on him.

“Fear not, traveler, I do not wish for your life,” she spoke in a clear voice. “But rather, your coin purse would be a nice substitute.” She glanced at his money bad greedily. “You have entered amd must pay the toll.”

The man fought for breath. “And, if-if I choose not-not to pay?” he stuttered. The woman made a gesture of drawing a dagger across her throat and the man winced. He put a hand to his purse of coins and tossed it to the stranger. He was getting agrier by the minute, starting to remember the role woman played in the world.

“May I at least have the name of the fair lady that would so willingly rob a stranger such as myself?” he ground out, eyes flashing with malice.

“Sure, my good sir, my name is Ariel, queen of the Gondorian Thieves. We steal from the rich and provide for the poor. Remember my name well and do not seek to come back through my forest,” she growled.

“Theif! The poor need no help! Let them starve!” he yelled. “What do you think you’re doing?!”

“I consider it one of the many services I offer, and the poor are only dispositioned that way because of greedy monsters like you! Now be gone!” she ordered, giving a shrill whistle. Out of nowhere, ten more hooded figures appeared, each brandishing bows.

The driver glared at them all. “The steward shall hear of this great injustice!” screeched the man. In the next instance, he was off, exiting the forest as fast as his horses would take him.

One of the figures lowered their hood. “You know Ariel, we really should have shot him. Middle Earth would be a better place with his absence.”

The queen of thieves laughed. “No, no Dialan, I believe we shall wait for his own greed to consume him. It’s much more enjoyable to watch that way,” she said. Another woman stepped from the shadows.

“And the steward? Surely he will not make light of this situation. I have heard rumors of alliances forming with elves. Perhaps he will send them for us? We have robbed over two hundred people Ariel, we should not have been so foolish,” admonished Tiera, keeping her hood positioned perfectly on her head.

An unladylike snort filled the wood as Ariel replied, “Like the elves would come after little old us? We’ve come too far and help too many people. Plus, I can take the elves on with my bare hands.” The entire company of woman rolled their eyes and started to depart for their camp.

“Sometimes, I wonder about our leader,” said Tiera. Dialan simply nodded her head and the pair jogged to catch up with their company.

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-End of Chapter 1

Next chapter: Haldir comes into play! This story will have a plot, so don’t worry. Also, next chapter will be longer! Sorry for it being kind of short now.

Please, hit that little button down there that says REVIEW. Hahaha. I should be updating by the end of tomorrow or early Thrusday. Please review you guys! I need something that keeps me happy in life besides chocolate!

Thanks a lot for reading!

--Blade


Chapter 2 - They Set Off!

A Stolen Love

Disclaimer: Don’t own, I would appreciate if you don’t sue. I mean, I love my cardboard box, don’t make me part with it!


On with the story!

A Stolen Love

Chapter 2- They Set Off!

Haldir glanced warily at the mortal before him. In this day an age, one could never be too cautious of the race of men. A shadow of threat was silently creeping along Middle Earth, winding its intricate web of horrors around the inhabitants and their surroundings. The thought of Mordor sent chills racing along the Marchwarden’s spine. How sorrowful that the firstborn had to be exposed to such an evil.

“State your purpose human!” Haldir silently commanded, a stoic expression hiding his real thoughts. Countless years of being a soldier had taught him that feelings were better hidden behind a mask of stone. The mortal visibly twitched as the ice in Haldir’s voice bit through his mind. Panting, the man tried to reply. Under normal circumstances, the Marchwarden of Lothlorien usually exercised a great deal of patience with people from foreign lands, but recent times proved to be trying ones, as the borders grew more and more perilous with each passing moment.

“I-I come bearing tidings and a request from Minas Tirith and it’s Steward, Denethor, the second,” spoke the man, attempting in vain to do a regal bow. The elf was close to laughing at the spectacle, humans just weren’t elves, mortal beings simply lacked the general grace. But Haldir kept silent, his face never slipping from its mask. He raised an eyebrow, inclining his golden head as a signal for the messenger to proceed.

Gulping, the man tried to fortify his courage. Rumors of the famous Marchwarden were not lost on this mortal, but until this point he never realized how seemingly innocent cerulean blue eyes could look upon a person with such intensity. This Haldir fellow had a frightening power about him.

“I wish for an audience with the Lord and Lady of the wood, if the situation would permit it, my lord,” the messenger whispered, hoping that the elf before him would hear his request. The man believed he lacked the audacity to speak in a louder voice. However, Haldir heard every word, a perk of being one of the eldar. He narrowed his eyes threateningly and considered the man in front of him. Haldir would not let just anyone come into contact with his Lord and Lady, they were too precious to be led into dangerous traps. As Haldir was about to deny the Gondorian’s request, a mystifying voice filled the air, seeming to come from an unknown speaker.

“Let him speak, my fair Marchwarden. It is far too early a time to be treating strangers with such hostility.”

Lady Galadriel, the owner of the ghostly voice, made her presence known as she came to stand beside Haldir.

“Speak, oh weary traveler. Tell us of your cause to be in my wood, and I hope you will not bring ill news upon the people of Lothlorien,” spoke the Lady in a melodious tone, as if silk was playing on the wind.

The messenger shook his head violently, trying to clear his mind, and then he gathered what manners he could, and bowed to the Lady of the Golden Wood. “I swear upon my mother’s grave that I do not come passing bad news, but rather I seek thee to help us in Gondor, far too many scoundrels run about freely. I, Tobiath, son of Gariold, messenger to Denethor, the Steward of Gondor, come in hopes to make an alliance with the elves of Lothlorien and to help bridge the gap between immortal and human.” Pausing, he inhaled deeply to refill his lungs, and continued.

“All we ask of you, my Lady, is to lend us the aid of your soldiers. We do not require many, for we know the strength and stamina of the eldar.” Tobiath seemed to finish here and waited for a response from the Lady. Suddenly, a voice projected inside of his head, jolting him to no end.

“You have been noble to the house of Denethor, and for that you should be praised,” the voice that was Galadriel whispered inside of his mind. “But what, pray tell, has the Steward been up to all this time while the threat of Mordor hangs over the land like an immense fog? Surely he has taken steps to prevent such crimes as stealing and killing from overtaking the city?”

The messenger swallowed visibly. His lord had been growing more senile as time seemed to tick away on his time in Middle Earth. He could not speak ill of Denethor though, as Tobiath was bound by a code of honor. However, this piece of information did not stop Galadriel from invading his mind, peaking into every crevice until she was satisfied. Haldir stood silently next to her, the mechanisms in his brain trying to piece together what Galadriel was gathering from this mortal and relaying to her Marchwarden.

“So it is how I predicted,” the Lady spoke softly to herself, but enough for Haldir to hear. “Denethor has already shown signs of corruption,” her eerie voice echoed through the great hall.

Haldir scoffed at this statement, glaring at Tobiath. “Humans are of a weaker breed. Their minds cannot comprehend anything but the need for power and wealth. May they be burned from Middle Earth!” he spat with barely veiled malice.

Galadriel looked sharply at Haldir. She spoke with him mentally. “There was a time, my rueful Marchwarden, when you welcomed humans with open arms, created friendships in fact.”

Haldir narrowed his eyes, revealing his only sign of emotion. He spoke aloud, “You know very well what happened my Lady, and I have every right to feel like this.” Tobiath stood away from the obviously quarreling pair, hoping that he wouldn’t be drawn into this obviously heated conversation.

“Haldir, do not be so simple minded as to think that all mortals are the same! You were not trained to be like this, so fulfill you duty!” she yelled. Haldir paled. Never, in all his centuries of service, had Galadriel raised her voice to the Marchwarden. To say the least, Haldir was shocked. Seeing this, the Lady of Light softened her face, compassion marring her ethereal presence. “I am sorry Haldir, never have I spoken with such vehemence. My apologies, dear Marchwarden. I can only hope that one day, you will stop fighting this imaginary battle between you and the whole human race,” Galadriel murmured.

In response, Haldir merely inclined his head, golden strands playing about his face. A cautious silence fell over the hall until Tobiath had the idea to cough. Attention was fully brought back to the mortal, who was currently wondering why he had to attract the stares of a cold Marchwarden, and a Lady considered to be a witch in numerous kingdoms.

“My Lady, if I am not interrupting anything, my lord Denethor wished to have a response as soon as possible, so that a speedy alliance will be made,” Toniath said, looking to the floor.

Galadriel seemed to consider this. It would be beneficial to create a bond with the humans of Gondor, especially if what she saw in her mirror would come to pass. Denethor was being selfish in asking that the elves seal their alliance by helping to catch criminals, but that could not be helped at the moment.

She sighed, knowing what her answer would be. “I, Lady Galadriel of Lothlorien, agree to this request and will help aid the kingdom of Gondor, in return for a written alliance. I trust you brought the proper documents messenger?”

Tobiath glanced up, clearly surprised. Haldir’s expression matched that of the human’s. How could the Lady agree to such a requisition? The Marchwarden was thinking with the hatred in his heart, rather than politically. Galdriel told him such within his mind, and he agreed begrudgingly that this was, in fact, the correct path to follow.

Speaking aloud, the Lady addressed Haldir. “Marchwarden, if you please, gather a group of soldiers and tell them to get ready for a trip to Gondor. You shall be in charge. I am trusting you and I have the hope that you would do nothing to lower the opinion of our fair Lorien.”

Haldir swallowed deeply and nodded his head in consent. He would not embarrass his Lord and Lady. He would fulfill his duty.

Galadriel called for a servant to lead the messenger to a guest room, and ten she took her leave. Haldir went to collect his group of soldiers, wondering what their reactions would be once they found out they were to go to Gondor.

When the papers were signed and the messenger Tobiath had rested, the company of six elves and one human were set to leave. Haldir bade his brothers to stay at the borders, opting for soldiers that were currently off duty inside the city. They needed all the elves that could be spared at the border. The company quickly mounted their horses. The Marchwarden patted Astaldo, his jet-black steed. This creature had never before let him down, and was very close to his heart. Slipping his stoic façade into place, Haldir coldly looked about him. With a shrill whistle to his companions, and a quick bow of his head to Galadriel, who was standing gracefully nearby, they set off for their destination: Gondor.


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        At the encampment of the Forest Thieves, the woman began sitting down to partake in the feast that was rabbits and various birds. Water was collected and passed around to share. Conversations started and soon raucous voices filtered between the trees.

“Have you heard the one about the cave troll and the dwarf?!” Dialan yelled, trying to capture everyone’s attention. This resulted in the beginning of yet another vulgar joke. Tiera took this opportunity to lean over and converse with Ariel, who was currently trying to stare down her dinner. Her eyes were narrowed and her lips formed into an annoyed pout.

“Are you angry with your dinner or is that a regular face of yours?” questioned Tiera, her mouth curving at the corners a little.

Snapping out of her nonexistent feud between her pheasant, Ariel flashed a smiled at her friend. “The bird keeps telling me that it won’t taste good, but I say that it is giving a contradictory statement, as it smells heavenly. Nevertheless, it doesn’t cease to stop convincing me of its bad taste.” Ariel finished speaking and glanced back at her dinner.

Tiera raised an elegant eyebrow. “You realize that your dinner is dead, right?” she said incredulously.

Ariel stabbed her food with a crude fork, as if dueling with swords, and smiled from ear to ear. “No, now it’s dead.”

Tiera rolled her and eyes, Ariel’s quirkiness knew no bounds. For someone so young, Ariel was wise beyond her years and skilled in many ways. Of course, Tiera would usually start reconsidering this opinion when the Queen of the Forest Thieves acted like she was a deranged six year old.

Tiera sighed and looked into the eyes of her leader. A silence fell between them as the others laughed at the joke Dialan was telling. Flickering, the firelight reflected itself into the brown, opaque orbs of Ariel. “Such mystifying eyes for someone so young,” Tiera whispered. “So, so young.” Huffing, Ariel blinked. This was a constant confrontation between the two.

“Do we have to do this again!? I am twenty one my friend! That is considered plenty old enough to wed and have a family! Do not forget that you yourself are only a mere seven years my senior!” Ariel gasped for breath and went on, “I am old enough to be a queen among thieves and I have even saved your life once or twice Tiera.”

“Do not forget that I have also saved you from immediate danger, so do not take that tone with me,” Tiera murmured, keeping her voice low.

Ariel fell mute and stared off into the foliage. Tiera sighed. She had not meant to bring up this quarrel again.

“I am sorry. I did not come to badger you, my queen,” spoke Tiera. At the formal title, Ariel scowled and stared at her friend. “I came to relay news from Minas Tirith. Our contacts warn that soldiers from a distant land come to capture us,” at this point, she looked about them, making sure no one was listening in.

Ariel laughed outright. “Ha! I knew Denethor would be too cowardly to keep sending his own men to come and get us. He has to rely on the help of strangers. That pitiful old man.”

“Ariel, this is serious! They say elves are coming! The Marchwarden of Lothlorien to be exact!” Tiera whispered hurriedly. She paused to let this sink in with her queen. By now, the rest of the people in their camp, who had coincidentally heard Ariel’s conversation, were whispering among themselves, unbeknownst to the two friends talking. The Marchwarden Haldir was a greatly honored warrior, and known to be vicious in battle. He was both feared and respected. How could they defend themselves against elves? As one, the company of women looked to Ariel. Hopefully, she would have a solution. She was their leader, after all. They would follow her to the depths of Mordor if need be.

Still not noticing the stares of nine other people besides Tiera people, Ariel sat and contemplated what they should do. She looked at her friend and spoke.

“We cannot risk an open assault from elves, no matter how greatly trained we think we may be. Elves, by nature, are stronger, faster, and more agile than humans. They would catch us in no time. Our only hope is to keep switching campsites, and our last resort would be going to seek shelter inside Minas Tirith,” Ariel finished. Every woman gasped, despite themselves. They could not go back there. It was then that Tiera and Ariel realized that they seemed to be holding an audience.

Ariel looked at Tiera. “They had to know anyways, there’s no getting around that,” she said, shrugging.

Rarill, a close friend to Dialan, stood and faced the group of women.

“How can you expect us to even set foot inside Minas Tirith without being spotted? It will be nearly impossible. Do you forget that we were all exiled? Sure, some were evicted for different purposes but that does not deter from the fact that if we go back, we most surely will be killed,” she said, the company agreeing.

Ariel waved her hand dismissively. “I know why we are all here! I do not need to be reminded. Where else could we go if our forest became no longer a safe haven?” Ariel could see that a couple people were about to speak, but she put her hand up, asking for silence. “I know what some of you will say. Go to Rohan, to villages, to open plains outside of Gondor. But, there is a flaw in this. We would be captured within a day. Elves are fast, and their steeds are swift. No, our only choice is to go to Minas Tirith. It is already crowded enough, and as long as we play our game smart, we shall survive.” Ariel finished her statement and glanced around the group.

“Do not worry about this threat tonight, for we will be ready to move tomorrow. Have fun and talk,” Ariel said. The others cast a melancholy glance to each other. The prospect of leaving their forest was an unnerving one indeed. Ariel tried to make light of the situation. She called, “Laurelin?!” The woman in question looked to the Queen of Thieves.

“Yes, my lady?” she whispered. Laurelin was notorious for being shy.

“If you would, please play a cherry song for us to dance to, I haven’t moved my feet in ages,” Ariel replied.

Smiling, the girl retrieved her stringed instrument and started to pluck a rhythmic tune. Soon everyone was on their feet except for Ariel, Tiera, and Dialan. They looked glumly to their leader, who flashed a smile in return.

“Do not worry,” Ariel said, “tomorrow we will move locations and send the money that we stole to Minas Tirith. With such a darkness marring these times, the poor need whatever help we can give them.”

The two friends nodded, exchanging worried glances until Ariel forced them to get up and join the rest of the company that was currently dancing around in a circle. Tonight would be happy event, one of laughter and joyous singing. But tomorrow, now, what would tomorrow bring?

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=End of Chapter 2

Next Chapter: They meet for the first time! Will things go smoothly? Ha! I think not.

I made this a lot longer than my previous chapter; so let me know if you like this better. PLEASE REVIEW and let me know if you enjoyed this chappy, input is always great! Thanks!

--Blade


Chapter 3 - A Meeting Ensues

Disclaimer: Same as always, I don't own it, so please for all that is cheesy and good do not sue me! Any characters you don't recognize from Tolkien's world are MINE! Mine mine mine! Hahahahaha!

Now, without further ado:

A Stolen Love

By: Blade Eclipse




Chapter 3- A Meeting Ensues

Torrents of rain cascaded down the elfin cloak, making the Marchwarden seem like a living waterfall. The beaten trail sank under the hooves of Astaldo and the other steeds, making any progress that the company made very slow indeed. Trees littered the trail, each one begging for a sun that ceased to show itself under the merciless downpour. What ill fortune the elves of Lorien faced! If the weather chose to continue down this muddy path, getting to Gondor would be all but impossible, even for the eldar.

Haldir, to say the least, was not happy.

While true that the race of elves were not as susceptible to the cold and other elements as humans, that did not deter from the fact that rain made everything uncomfortable. Light clanging noises could be heard as droplets of liquid found a place on exposed armor and weapons. Not a word was spoken, the elves instead opting for silent meditation. The horses snorted every now and then, trying to snatch their owners' attention, but to no avail.

When the company finally had to stop, it was near midnight. The moon made its presence known, shining down from in between storm clouds. The soldiers dismounted their steeds, setting them free to graze. Haldir instructed Trian and Quesse, two able bodied warriors, to make a fire. The two retrieved the proper supplies and set about their task.

"Haldir, do you think it wise to make a fire, with all types of orcs and unfriendly creatures roaming the night?" questioned Ambar, the second in command. He looked about himself, as if sensing some sort of invisible danger.

The Marchwarden laughed outright at this question and turned toward his companion. Ambar was a loyal and respectable friend, if a little paranoid at times. While Haldir put on a haughty exterior, he would never jeopardize the lives of his companions, he was Marchwarden, after all.

"Ambar, we will be fine. I have already dispatched scouts, you need not worry so much, my friend," stated Haldir, trying to qualm Ambar's fears.

"Oh, alright Captain, sorry to have doubted you, with all your superior wisdom and intellect," Ambar said with a smile plastered to his face. Who said elves had to be so serious all the time?

Haldir merely smirked and shook his head. Glancing about the encampment, he took a mental inventory of supplies. They had more than enough to get to Gondor and back, but the horses would need rest throughout the trip. With any luck, and Varda willing, they would reach Minas Tirith within the next two days.

The elves gathered around the fire, each trying to cook their food and striving to become more comfortable. Intriguing were the flames that sputtered to life in front of Haldir. Fire could be seen as a catharsis in many ways, a cleansing entity of sorts. Amazing, how people only place it in a category of destruction. The power of flames were ethereal. Not many things on Middle Earth had the power to destroy and at the same time make new life, but fire unmistakably, could. Haldir had been witness to this numerous times.

Back before he was even thinking about applying for the regal position of Marchwarden, Haldir was a mere soldier, and nothing more. And he was content with his place, strangely. He didn't have to make any judgment calls or major decisions. That was left up to the Captain, Kemen, whom Haldir had respected all of his life. His company would set about on journeys all across the land, exploring the other elven realms and even human ones too.

Haldir's eyes narrowed in anger as he stared into the captivating flames. He did not like to think of the olden days, especially where filthy humans were involved.

In those days, humans were constantly fighting against each other, and they were merciless. Fields that were vital to producing food for the population were burned to ashes, leaving no trace of anything remotely edible. Humans literally starved to death in times of war. The thought made Haldir sick to his stomach. Villages were pillaged and set ablaze, sometimes with people still inside them. As visiting elves in an alien country, Haldir's company had strict orders not to intervene with the battles between neighboring villages. So they sat there, almost glowing atop their magnificent horses, watching as the human race died around them. So much fire. So much screaming.

But, out of the ruins, rose new life. The fields could be cultivated, the ashes making the soil rich and plentiful again. The towns people banded together, rebuilding their homes and remembering what happened, vowing to never act so foolishly as to start a war again. It took the deaths of children, husbands, wives, to make them realize their mistakes, but still too late.

Fire had breathed new life and vigor into the race of man, and they had willingly taken this gift.

Haldir was slowly pulled from his reverie. The flames in the camp started to flicker into submission, now only emitting a faint glow. The Marchwarden sighed to himself, showing no trace of emotion on his angelic features.

The other elves prepared their sleeping mats and tried to find the path of dreams. Haldir stood, stationary, as if made out of marble, until the fire turned to the darkness that had captured the rest of the surroundings. He willed himself to sleep that night, hoping for no dreams, for accompanying them would most defiantly be nightmares. Nightmares, he realized, he was scared of.

Eyes wide, Haldir breathed deeply.

The Marchwarden, the fearless, war-trained soldier, was actually frightened of something.


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The Forest Thieves were getting anxious. Nervousness filled the unspoken void instead of premature fear, which was, in all accounts, a good thing. No need to become panicky before anything gets started.

Ariel traveled among the women, hoping to calm some down. Whispers traveled throughout the camp, seeping into every crack and draining every sapling dry.

The elves would be here soon.

In preparation of their arrival, Ariel decided to make the company "nomads," of sorts. They would choose a different enclosure to camp at every other day. Scouts would be on patrol for six-hour intervals at a time, ensuring the safety of the women. The forest was enormous, but not as much as the Queen of Thieves would have liked it to be.

Ariel's few contacts inside the city had agreed to take in the company of ladies if need be, provided they pay a hefty sum and only stay for a few days at a time. Nothing in this world came without a price.

So, plans and backup plans in order, the group started loading up their homes, most likely for the last time.

Suddenly, Ariel's voice pervaded through the trees, strong and determined. She, in no instance, had the most heavenly voice, but something about it made people just want to quiet and listen. It was commanding and endearing, just as Ariel was at times, though she was loathe to admit the endearing part. She sang of home and remembrance, of death and destruction, of love and humanity. The tune was a familiar one, sung by the farmers of Gondor who needed a release from their hardships.

Soon, the whole company was singing with their leader, voices united in imperfect harmony.

When the song ended, a cautious silence entered the wood, and nobody dared break it. Noiselessly, the women moved as one, mounting their horses and glancing back at the home that would never be theirs to claim again. And with a hand signal from Ariel, the steeds trotted off into the ever- darkening forest.


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The weather had substantially cleared up and the path was able to be traveled upon. Before long, the elves had reached the gates of Minas Tirith. After confirming their identities with the watch guards, the company was allowed free passage to see Denethor.

Haldir advised his soldiers to pull up their hoods, for humans could become easily fixated on the race of the eldar. They led their horses up the white stone steps, receiving looks from passing citizens.

The homes at the lower end of the city were in a state of somewhat chaotic disarray. Houses were chipped and weather beaten from the seasons. People pushed and groped their way into every crevice imaginable inside the city, hoping to find some semblance of a rest area and a reprieve from everyday life.

Haldir looked away, disgusted. He did not wish to witness this. Why did the Lady send him on such a ridiculous mission?

Finally, they reached their destination. Haldir was escorted to Denethor while his companions tended to the horses.

A guard led the Marchwarden to a massive room that housed the thrones of the White City. Below them was a marginally smaller one, and unlike the others, this one was occupied.

"Greetings, Haldir o' Lorien. Welcome to this fair city, and I hope I find you in good spirits," said Denethor, smiling with his crooked, rusted yellow teeth.

Haldir inclined his head, and spoke slowly. "The city of Lothlorien thanks you, Steward of Gondor, and the Lord and Lady send their greetings and best wishes. They also look forward to a completed alliance with Minas Tirith."

Denethor smirked, an action that made Haldir want to squeeze his neck until it cracked, but he kept his feelings to himself.

"Ah yes, the treaty, I trust you brought it," said Denethor.

"Yes, my Lord." Haldir retrieved the document from its water-proof seal, handing it off to the Steward.

"Well, everything seems to be in order here. Tobiath! Bring me a pen!" commanded Denethor.

It was then that Haldir noticed a servant standing off to the sides, the same messenger that had traveled to Lothlorien and propositioned this whole event.

Tobiath walked quickly to the Steward's side, holding out a feathered writing utensil. Denethor snatched it from Tobiath's grasp and signed the alliance treaty.

"I will give you this upon your return. Kill all the thieves and scoundrels you want, it is the leader of these bandits that I crave for. Bring her to me alive. She will be judged for her crimes. For too long has she slipped through my fingers," snarled Denethor.

Haldir became a little startled to learn that the leader of these thieves was a woman. He would contemplate over this issue later.

Denethor produced a map of Gondor and quickly briefed Haldir of the situation and where the bandits were last spotted. The Marchwarden memorized the map and took his leave, ready to leave Minas Tirith as soon as possible.

Haldir found his company waiting to go, trying to avoid the stares of strangers. They mounted their steeds and set off for the forest, following the Marchwarden's lead. They would reach the desired location within the hour.


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The Forest Thieves of Gondor were taking a well deserved rest. Ariel sent four scouts into the depths of the trees, hoping that there wouldn't be a need for them. To pass the time and to make their hearts lighter, a few ladies danced in the shallow end of the pond where they had stopped, dancing to a nameless melody. Dialan was among them.

Ariel couldn't stop the corners of her mouth from quirking up. Dialan was always trying to make people happy, no matter what the cause.

The performance continued, and more joined in, careful not to make noise, lest they lead the enemy strait to their rest area.

The cool liquid swirled around their feet, keeping in time with the soundless rhythm. Ariel smiled along with the group, trying not to show her feelings. A growing knot of worry had invaded her stomach and refused to leave. This had only happened on one occasion before, and the outcome had resulted in exile.


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The company of elves had searched the area three times over and were convinced that the thieves had left. Footprints and horse prints littered the ground. Evidence was shown that the bandits tried to cover them, but did a faulty job. The tracks were recent and would be easy to follow. Haldir could almost smell them.

They were close.


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The horses were drinking their fill from the pond when Ariel received the news. Kayla, a scout, had delivered the message, warning that the elves were near, almost half a mile away, and closing in.

The others were in an uproar. Never before had they been put into a position such as this. Ariel raised her hand for silence, and the others followed suit.

"I have any idea. Each of you, get out your best dress and put it on and straiten it. Make yourself look presentable and put your hair up. We must hurry, quickness is the key!" Ariel hurriedly whispered.

Long ago, it had been decided that each woman would keep at least one dress to their name, incase a retreat to the city was ever needed.

Suddenly, all the women were scurrying to their packs, tearing open pockets and such. In five minutes flat, every lady was rapped in a flowing dress. Ariel didn't look like herself in an off the shoulder pale blue linen gown, it didn't suit her at the very least. Her golden-tanned body clashed with color. But, it would suffice.

"Run now! Put the gold and weapons in the packs! Nothing must be seen!" Ariel fiercely whispered. The group did as they were told and looked nervously at their leader.

"When they come, make idle chat and pretend we were all here for an extended picnic and nature expedition. I will do most of the talking, but just incase they speak directly to you, answer politely and be courteous ladies!"

They all nodded in agreement and started talking complete nonsense to each other.

Soon, the group of elves emerged from the foliage. The group of women gasped as one.

What a heavenly sight to behold! Blond hair cascaded down a face that was almost ethereal in appearance. Sinewy muscles stretched at every agile movement these creatures made. Simply put: the thieves had their breath stolen away.

At first, the two companies merely stared at one another, and then the silence was broken by what Ariel suspected was their leader. He had more of an arrogant air about him.

"I am Haldir, marchwarden of Lothlorien. Excuse our intrusion ladies, but we are in the process of searching for a band of forest thieves and their path seems to have collided with yours," said Haldir, glimpsing each of their faces.

Ariel's features formed into a frightened expression. "What do you mean thieves? We are in danger?!" She made her eyes take on a panicked appearance and frantically looked around.

Haldir tried to calm her down. "Do not be scared, dear lady! We are merely trying to find them, I assure you that no danger will befall your beautiful faces." At this, Haldir glanced around and winked at the group of women, who giggled in return for good measure.

"You flatter us, my Lord," said Ariel, hoping against hope that the thieves would make it through this test.

"Hardly," answered Haldir. But then, something queer happened to the Marchwarden. His mind went back to the conversation with Denethor. He remembered that the supposed "leader" of the Forest Thieves was in fact, a woman. "Surely the whole group could not be composed of women!" he thought, keeping a façade of pleasantness on the exterior, while inside his mind was churning.

"I wonder though, what are a group of refined ladies such as yourselves doing here in the middle of the forest?" questioned Haldir.

Tiera found her voice, miraculously. "We were having a picnic and chatting. Later we were planning on doing some nature drawings," she answered, if a little hesitantly.

Haldir quirked an eyebrow, he wasn't so sure of this story. He looked about the area. No food was present and he could see no canvas or coal used for drawing. Although, to the women's credit, the supplies could have been in their packs.

"We shall escort you back to Minas Tirith. The forest is not safe at this point. I fear for your safety," Haldir said, trying to take on a concerned expression, which was hard, considering he spent his whole career trying to be like ice melted onto stone.

A few of the women gasped and Ariel spoke a little too loud to be considered nonchalant.

"No, no, dear marchwarden. We are quite capable of getting there on our own, thank you graciously for your offer though," said Ariel, painting on a fake smile of reassurance.

Haldir's eyes narrowed imperceptibly. Who refuses an offer from an elf, and the very marchwarden of Lothlorien to be exact! This was getting more questionable by the minute.

"I insist, my Lady. We will take you safely there and make sure you are in the strong arms of the city before leaving. This forest is dangerous," said Haldir, ready to gauge her reaction.

Ariel was about to deny his request again when Laurelin, shyest of the bunch, spoke aloud.

"We would be honored if such soldiers would accompany us to the city," she stated wide eyed, as if surprised by her own boldness.

"All right, it's settled then," said Haldir, perhaps a little too cheerfully. He would get to the bottom of this.

Ariel was openly glaring at the Marchwarden. It was only when he stared back that she caught herself, in turn blushing a deep shade of crimson.

The women traveled to their horses, leading them over by the elven steeds.

Haldir looked at the Queen of Thieves, not knowing her true identity. "My Lady, you know my name, but my ears have not had the pleasure to hears yours," said Haldir, almost feeling sick. The Marchwarden hated putting on happy exteriors, it made his face ache with tension.

Ariel put on a false smile. "I am known as Taliwen, from the house of Ditrael." A few of the thieves gave her odd looks, but the others were smart enough to know not to give these strangers their real names.

"Well then, Lady Taliwen, a star shines upon the hour of our meeting," he said, offering his hand to help Ariel mount her horse.

Begrudgingly, Ariel took the proffered hand and before she knew it her stallion, Bow, was neighing underneath her. She caught a glimpse of a jewel- studded dagger attached to Haldir's waist. The metal glittered in the afternoon sun. It was marvelous. Perfectly crafted in every way. Ariel snapped out of her observation enough to say, "thank you, Marchwarden."

Haldir smiled falsely in return. "Please, call me Haldir, my Lady." Ariel nodded her head and kicked Bow to a slow trot. "Great," thought Haldir. "Just when I thought being with humans couldn't get any worse, now I have to baby sit them!" He was grateful that his company of elves had chosen to stay silent. They knew how to follow orders. They filed in with their horses behind the women, watching them, calculating.

Towards the front, Ariel found herself positioned next to Laurelin.

"How could you agree to such a thing Lin?!" she angrily whispered. Laurelin, the poor girl, looked like a deer who knew it was about to be shot. Tiera pulled up next to them.

"Don't be foolish Ariel! Oh, I mean Taliwen. There was no way around this. If she hadn't agreed, they would have suspected something! Be smart about this my Queen!" Tiera spoke in a low, harsh whisper. "Now be quiet, elves have extremely good hearing, remember?"

Ariel closed her mouth and huffed in silence.

Soon, the gates of Minas Tirith blazed in the sunlight. Such a sight was magnificent to behold, but deadly to enter.

Dialan pulled up beside Ariel.

"My Lady, we cannot enter. Maybe if we had the cover of night to shield us, it could be plausible, but in broad daylight? We will surely be killed!" she said lowly.

Ariel simply winked in answer, smiling a little.

"That's not a good sign," remarked Rarill, who was riding in the back of the group. The others nodded in acquiesce. Ambar noticed this and looked to Haldir, whose face was a mask of stone. The Marchwarden acknowledged his second in command, nodding a little and silently translating that he picked up on this too.

"If I may ask, my Lady, what exactly is not a good sign?" questioned Ambar, looking from one woman to the other.

Rarill froze momentarily before answering. "Uh, the-the cattle are laying down!" She pointed to an open field where a farm was located outside of the city. "That almost surely means that rain is coming upon us!"

The elves almost laughed outright. How ridiculous!

All twenty women breathed a quiet sigh of relief, happy that Rarill had found a good cover-up, or so they thought. Mayhap they would get out of this alive, if they played their cards right.

But too soon, all of their hopes were dashed. An entire company of soldiers from Minas Tirith was standing outside of the gates, waiting to leave for various missions. The thieves looked at each soldier as if each one was a rope that they would soon be hanging from.

Ariel tried to keep her cool.

When the path became substantially wider, Haldir and his company spurred their hoses on ahead until they were even with Ariel. She was visibly sweating by now. Haldir internally smirked. Something was up with these women, and he knew it had to do with the Forest Thieves.

The women looked around nervously, almost panting.

They reached the Minas Tirith soldiers, and almost fainted from the enormity of their predicament.

"We shall escort you inside the city," Haldir spoke.

Ariel dangerously narrowed her eyes. "I do not think that will be necessary Marchwarden." Strangely, after saying this she smiled. An evil, corrosive one that dug into every nerve Haldir possessed. He looked at her questioningly.

In response, she shouted at the top of her lungs. "Help! These elves are trying to rape us poor women! They captured us in the plains of Rohan and wish to return us to Minas Tirith for ransom money! Please help!" She was screaming by now. "Help please!"

"Lady Taliwen, I have no idea what-," Haldir was abruptly cut off as a soldier of the White City pulled him off his horse. The others soldiers followed suit and presently all the elves were locked in fights, trying not to hurt the humans for fear of breaking the alliance.

Ariel turned her horse around, the other women doing the same, and she commanded them to gallop as fast as they could into the forest. The Queen Of Thieves stayed behind a minute, until she caught the Marchwarden's eye. With a sickly sweet smile, she help up his jewel encrusted dagger, the one that had glinted so much in the sunlight earlier that day, then momentarily, she sped away on Bow, looking back only to see the pure emotion of anger that radiated from the Marchwarden.

Ariel smiled to herself. They didn't call her the Queen Of Thieves for nothing!

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-END OF CHAPTER

You guys, my brain has just been going off with ideas for this story, and make no mistake there will be lots of romance and even more twists and turns! Secrets! Hahaha! I have some amazing ideas for this, so keep reading!



--Blade


Chapter 4 - Discovery

Howdy and hello!  I’m so excited about the next chapter after this one, I really just can’t put it into words. Please, read the bottom of the page for more info. PLEASE REVIEW! I feel like crying sometimes when nobody reviews my story, I feel bad. ( And, I feel a compelling urge to set people on fire, and we don’t want that do we?) 

-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=- Now without further ado:

A Stolen Love

By: Blade Eclipse

Chapter 4: Discovery

Haldir seemed hard pressed to keep his nonchalant expression in place. Anger practically seeped from his being, leaving everybody standing within the chamber in a permanent state of unease and fear. The Marchwarden was at the very end of his famed patience. The nerve of that...that woman! How dare she take what is rightfully his! How he would love to wring that pretty little neck of hers... She would pay for this.

A distant voice brought Haldir stumbling back to reality.

“Marchwarden, I must admit I did not expect to see you return with such haste, nor do I remember informing you to pick scuffles with my soldiers,” Denethor finished, raising a bushy eyebrow.

Imperceptibly, Haldir made his hands into fists. He would not allow this mockery of a steward to tarnish the fair name of Lothlorien. Humans were so quick to judge, and mayhap this was one of their greater flaws. Mortals had no business conversing with the race of the eldar, and Haldir would like nothing more than to leave this forsaken place and return to his home. But alas, he would rather die than dishonor the wishes of the Lady of Light.

“I was under the suspicion that the ladies we had escorted to the city gates were in connection with the Forest Thieves. But, as we neared Minas Tirith, they claimed that we had...taken advantage of them. And, your soldiers, being the honorable men they are, decided to defend the honor of the women in question. Of course, we had done the women no harm, and it came as quite a shock when my elves and I were attacked outright. To our credit, my Lord, we did not land a single blow on your soldiers, and none were injured,” Haldir spoke firmly, his haughty exterior back in its proper niche. Conversing with humans was a truly tiring affair.

The Steward seemed poised to speak again, but Haldir thought it best to cut him off.

“With your permission, my Lord, my company and I wish for another opportunity to capture the thieves. We are confident that we can find them, and we now know exactly whom we are searching for,” the Marchwarden spoke calmly, hoping that he would not have to repeat himself.

Denethor contemplated on the subject, seeing no other way to rid Gondor of its thieves and keep the wealthy happy and content. He sighed openly, looking at the Marchwarden from booted toe to golden head, wondering how something could be so perfect, and yet so fearsome at the same time.

Haldir fought with his mind, urging himself not to cringe at such a blatant inspection. Some humans were completely unbearable at times.

Clearing his throat, Denethor spoke in a rusted tone, "My permission is yours to do with what you wish, Marchwarden. I only seek to remind you that I want the leader brought back to me alive, I care not if she has injuries. As for the others, you may kill them if that is your desire."

Haldir narrowed his eyes at that comment. He would never kill needlessly, especially if the victims happened to be females.

Noticing the elf's expression, Denethor thought to alter his statement.

"Or, you can bring the thieves back to Minas Tirith alive, I care not for their capture or death, only for their leader."

The Steward minutely smiled to himself, sitting back in his stony niche, happy he had done away with the formalities of the mission. He would get his thief queen. Oh yes, he most definitely would.

Haldir, ever one to know when a conversation had ended, bowed his head quickly to Denthor and spun around in one fluid motion. Mentally, the elf was fuming. Never had he failed a mission, and the fact that he found himself incapable of capturing a bunch of humans, and females no less, worked its way into his very blood, streaming and pulsing through aggravated veins. He would not fail his Queen.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------- -----------

The ground shuddered as hooves met earth, combining to form an intricate dance. Horses ran swiftly to an unknown destination, reveling in the feeling of freedom that the wind so willingly provided. Their riders, far from being a hindrance, became an extension of the horses. Human and animal moved as one. While they did not know its cause, the steeds sensed the urgency to flee in their owners’ demeanor, and complied with their wishes to go faster. Leading this blend of women and creature was Ariel, Queen of Thieves.

She softly kicked Bow, adding a little more speed to his gallop. The other women followed suit, Dialan and Tiera taking the opportunity to bring themselves closer to Ariel’s side.

The wind whipped and lashed at the women, some of them closing their eyes in defense. Under normal circumstances the thieves would never travel so fast, but they made an exception on this occasion.

Running for your life could do that to a person, I suppose.

Tiera tried to steal a glance at Ariel, furiously blinking to keep the moisture in her eyes. “My Lady, we have to stop soon! The horses cannot take much more! And I fear neither can the women!” Tiera yelled, trying to dominate over the ever- increasing wind.

Ariel acknowledged her with a nod and tucked her head closer to Bow’s muscular neck, feeling every broken intake of breath that the steed provided.

“I trust you have a plan, my Queen!” yelped Dialan, trying to stay on her horse.

Ariel lifted her head and frowned at her friend. “If you refer to me as queen again, I will be forced to hire a pig to stab you!” She screamed, the wind drowning out most sounds by now.

Dialan exchanged a confused glance with Tiera, each believing their leader to have finally become insane. It was bound to happen sooner of later.

Irritated at their sense of humor, or lack thereof, Ariel frowned and yelled, “Of course I have a plan, I have no idea if it will work, but I do have a plan!”

Relief spread throughout Dialan and Tiera. So, there was a chance for escape from the elves!

Trees passed like faded blurs and the company moved so swift that dirt created a mist about them, encompassing all in its depths.

Slowly, Ariel tugged at the reigns of Bow. The horse whinnied and complied, bringing itself to s slow trot. The company followed, careful not to cause unnecessary damage to human or animal.

Ariel cleared her throat and prepared to speak to the whole group. The elves, most likely, would still be tied up in matters at the palace, so the Queen of Thieves thought it proper to take advantage of the situation and speak freely, and loudly, if she could help it.

The horses never faltered from their trot, and Ariel didn’t intend to stop them anytime soon.

Ariel didn’t turn in her horse to look at the group of women, and it felt odd addressing the company when she was facing nothing but foliage. “Listen up everyone!” Ariel’s voice echoed in the forest, creating an odd ripple effect. “We don’t have much time, and we aren’t stopping to rest the horses.”

At this, women shouted how their horses would give out from under them and how at least water was needed to continue.

Ariel would have none of this and silenced everyone with a wave of her hand.

“As you no doubt realize, we are coming upon some low hanging branches,” she yelled, trying extremely hard to steady their attention and support while not being able to look at them. She just HAD to be in the lead.

The women glanced as one and struggled but locked eyes on the branches.

“When we reach them, I want each of you to grab on and let the horses run on without you,” continued Ariel.

“Are you MAD?!” yelled Rarill. Like the others in the company, each women was emotionally tied to her horse, almost like family.

The Thief Queen grunted in frustration. “It is the only way! If not, and we get off and walk with the horses, the elves will surely catch up to us when we take a rest! It would be too slow! And, those elves will no doubt follow the hoof prints that we have left behind in our wake, inevitably leading them to us! If we choose to abandon our steeds, the eldar will not realize until too late that we are not occupying our horses.”

All saw the logic in this statement, but that did not make it easier to part with the animals. The low braches crept upon them like an ominous puzzle, forever twisting and confusing.

Gulping, Dialan knew she would have to start out, for if she didn’t, the women would never follow the plan. Ariel would stay on Bow until the last thief was safe inside the deep crevices and niches of the thick braches.

“Only bring your weapons, everything else can be left behind,” yelled Ariel, hoping to rally their spirits.

Patting her horse farewell, Dialan tied her short sword to her waist and, finding a substantial opening in the mass of branches, reached with her arms and pulled herself into their depths, waiting for others to do the same.

Ready to cry, the women hugged their steeds, hoping that it would not be the last time they saw their comrades.

Momentarily, weapons were attached to bodies more branches became occupied. Stronger women helped those who lacked the upper body strength and soon, all women save their Queen were nestled in the branches.

Ariel glanced behind her only to find a group of rider-less horses. The sight was a haunting one. The steeds breathed heavily and a thin layer of dirt covered every space, making nothing appear in its true color.

Leaning down, Ariel whispered to Bow, “I know the trail has been a hard one, but as a last request, my friend, I ask that you run as fast and far as you can. I am sorry to wish it of you, but I am afraid this is the only way.” Bow neighed softly, still in a soft trot. Ariel smiled sadly, kissing the horse’s neck.

She retrieved her twin blades, knowing how out of practice she was. She picked up Haldir’s dagger and smiled. She would be keeping this item. Strapping the dagger to her ankle and her blades to her back, Ariel bade her horse goodbye.

An opening presented itself in the branches above her, and she took it, hoping to one day see her dear Bow again.

Straining to see her horse through the tangled web of branches, she wished him luck on his journey.

Momentarily, Bow broke into a fast gallop, the other steeds doing the same.

Ariel turned to spot her friends and fellow thieves.

“Uh, my Queen, I hope you do not think me rude, but, what are we going to do now? What is the next step in your plan?” asked Cirnen, a girl who was an expert with arrows.

Ariel gave her a bewildered look before answering, “Well, you know, I guess I haven’t thought that far ahead yet.”

Groans reverberated throughout the forest as each woman wondered why, exactly, they had chosen Ariel to lead them.

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Haldir pushed his soldiers. No time would be wasted. The horses raced together, each trying to prove their worth as elven steeds.

Almost two hours had elapsed since his last encounter with the women, and he meant to make up for lost minutes.

Astaldo barely touched the ground, sensing his master’s anger and wanting to go faster.

The group of elves each wore a determined expression. They were close. The prints were fresh and they could tell the steeds were tiring.

Eventually, the thieves would have to rest.

Haldir smiled, a moment of weakness coming over him as his cold, indifferent mask slipped off. The thrill of the chase was overpowering. That thief queen didn’t stand a chance.

He could practically smell her.

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After a time, the company of elves came upon an area of low hanging branches, slowing their pace.

Looking about them, the elves brought all focus to the branches.

“I do not know why we slow our pace, the hoof prints still continue on, and we are losing time,” said an impatient soldier called Alata.

The others nodded in silent agreement and glanced at their commander.

Haldir concentrated on his surroundings. Something about the situation wasn’t quite right.

Above the elves, the Forest Thieves of Gondor held their breath. None moved, praying that their presence would go undetected.

Ariel closed her eyes, willing the elves to leave. She was brought out of her thoughts as a familiar voice reached her ears. The Marchwarden.

“Go on without me. I shall investigate this site further. Signal if you find them,” the Haldir commanded.

His company nodded and galloped off, leaving the Captain alone.

Haldir set about checking the hoof prints. His elven senses heightened, he noticed a few things that didn’t add up.

The prints were odd. It seemed like the horses got lighter somehow, judging by the deep indentations in the soft ground that grew slightly shallower as the trail went on.

He looked into the dense forest and failed to see any supplies that could possibly have been dropped by the women. He sighed in frustration.

Suddenly, he sensed a movement above him.

A moment later he had drawn his weapons and was looking at a rather familiar face in front of him.

She smiled maliciously at the Marchwarden, and it was not until he glanced around himself that he truly realized the full extent of his predicament...

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=End of Chapter



I promise you, there will be Haldir/Ariel action galore in the next chapter. Actually, the entire chapter will revolve around the two together!






Please REVIEW and keep me SANE, and more importantly WRITING!

--Blade


Chapter 5 - And So It Begins

A Stolen Love

By: Blade Eclipse

Chapter 5:And So It Begins

Numbness. Haldir, Marchwarden of Lothlorien, felt nothing. He was not frightened, but mayhap a bit surprised. Skin tingling, he glanced about himself, hoping he was not really in this situation, but in a rather unpleasant dream.

The arrow pointed in his back thought to drag him back to reality.

Women surrounded him from every possible angle, each holding deadly weapons. Haldir gulped softly, mentally berating himself for being such an idiot. How could he let some-some humans trap him? What a disgrace!

Seeing he was helpless in the situation, he lowered his weapons.

Looking straight ahead, cerulean eyes met mahogany, and Haldir slipped his mask back into place.

The Queen of Thieves glared warily at him, suspicion cast in her eyes.

Ariel openly assessed the Marchwarden. He was a fine male specimen. Golden hair was braided in the front, and hung loose in the back. Peaking out, the famed elven ears made their appearance. Eyes, a piercing blue, held no emotion. Ariel felt if she were to reach out and touch him, ice would be the only thing that greeted her fingertips. His riding tunic stretched over his form, showing every muscle and contour. Black in color, his breeches were well made. Silver leaves were embroidered into the expensive fabric, a reminder that he was from the fair land of Lorien. Ariel could find no weakness, and this only served to increase her unease.

Feeling disconcerted by her stare, Haldir cleared him throat.

Ariel glanced up at the Marchwarden, amused that he seemed uncomfortable and reveling in the feeling. Smiling, she slowly stepped toward him.

Haldir thought that the woman walking in his direction looked a bit maniacal. He was starting to worry. Standing up straighter, he lifted his chin and glared at the lady. He would not be intimidated by a human.

Stopping in front of the elf, Ariel cocked her head.

“Well, it seems as if fate actually has a sense of humor, doesn’t it? Haldir, the fearless warrior and protector, pride of his people, has been caught by a mere group of women,” she finished, the thieves around her chuckling.

“My Lady, what exactly makes you think you have captured me?” He growled, hoping to scare them. 

A smile plastered to her face, Ariel answered, “You are surrounded by twenty trained women, and your comrades have gone on without you. And, if you even think to yell for them, you will die.”

Haldir grinned. “You cannot kill me, human. Even with fifty women, you would not prevail.”

The Queen of Thieves looked at the elf incredulously. Was he serious? She drew Haldir’s dagger from her ankle. She lightly caressed his tunic with the blade, careful not to cause any rips in the beautiful material. Dragging it across his pale cheek, Ariel leaned in close to his pointed ear.

“You are certainly full of yourself, Marchwarden. Mayhap fifty people could not kill you, but how about just one?” she whispered dangerously.

To emphasize her point, she lightly danced the dagger across his throat.

To be truthful, Ariel was a bit surprised at her own audacity. But, I suppose, uncommon events occur in dangerous situations.

Anger blazed through Haldir’s veins, rapidly dissolving his mask. He glanced at the blade that rested in the woman’s hand. A gift from the Lady Of Light, it was one of his most treasured possessions. How dare this thief threaten him with it!

Reaching for his dagger, he found several swords and arrows obstructing his way.

Stepping back, Ariel flipped the blade and caught it again, smiling. “Be careful, Marchwarden, you wouldn’t want anything bad to happen to this, now would you?” She quirked an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

Gaining no answer, Ariel shrugged and looked at Tiera, located to her right.

“My friend, if you could retrieve the rope and tie the hands of our guest?” she questioned.

Trying to suppress the urge to laugh, Tiera inclined her head and produced a few feet of fine-woven rope from her dress.

“Now I have nothing to use for a belt, my Queen,” Tiera said, frowning at her now baggy garment.

“We shall have to remedy that situation soon then,” said Ariel, making the matter seem like an important issue.

Tiera timidly approached Haldir, rope in hand.

“If you please, relinquish your weapons that you may have hidden inside your clothes, or we shall gladly do it for you,” Dialan smirked, her short sword pointed at Haldir’s throat.

Sighing imperceptibly, Haldir dropped his sword and reached inside his tunic, revealing two matching daggers, both plain in design. He dropped these as well, signaling that he was finished.

Lowering her blade, Dialan reattached it to her waist. Three other swords replaced her position at Haldir’s neck. Standing in front of him, Dialan started to pat his clothing.

Haldir was, to say the least, a little taken aback.

He froze, trying to put his mask back in place. Twenty pairs of eyes stared at him, each looking for a weakness, one he would not give.

Dialan glanced up at him. “I am checking for more weapons, if you were curious, my Lord. One can never be too careful.” She winked and continued her search.

Stopping at his boots, Dialan withdrew one small dagger from his right heel, depositing it with his other weapons.

Content with her findings, the thief stood up and bowed to Ariel. “I am finished with the search, my Lady. He possesses no other blades.”

Ariel nodded to Dialan and glanced back at Tiera, who still clutched at the rope.

“You are free to bind his hands now Tiera,” she said. “And remember, Marchwarden, if you try to harm any of these women, you will die, make no mistake,” Ariel warned.

Haldir looked at her, showing no feelings. He could only hope that his soldiers would find him in time before these humans did anything to him.

Tiera approached him, swinging around to settle behind him. She expertly tied his hands, looping and twisting for a good five minutes. Finally, she tugged at his wrists, making sure he would not break free, and took her place among the other thieves again.

“My soldiers will come for me soon, it is futile to outrun your capture,” Haldir said haughtily, the confidence he had in his elves visible. Trying to evade notice, his hands tried to untie the rope that imprisoned his wrists.

He was having trouble putting coherent thoughts together as swords pressed into his neck.

Puffing out her chest, a determined expression alighting her face, Ariel snarled, “Even if we cannot escape your elves, Marchwarden, we will not sit idly by and wait for our deaths. We are a proud people, and we are willing to fight for our lives.”

Haldir kept silent, instead opting to stare at this interesting creature, his expression unreadable.

The Queen of Thieves glanced about, trying to formulate some sort of plan. Chewing her bottom lip, she met Tiera’s eyes.

Worry consumed her friend, that much Ariel could tell. Sighing loudly, Ariel addressed the group of women:

“I am calling a meeting,” she spoke, looking everyone in the eyes, trying to ignore the unnerving glare of the Marchwarden.

“Dialan, you and five others will stay and watch the elf, we will not be gone long,” Ariel stated.

“As you wish, my Queen,” whispered Dialan, head slightly bowed. She pointed to some of her comrades, body language telling them to stay behind with her and guard the elf.

Not even bothering to reprimand her friend for use of the formal title, Ariel spun on heel, the others following behind.

After walking a good distance away from the golden-haired elf, the Thief Queen stopped. She was aware of the acute hearing that the eldar possessed, and was not going to take any chances.

Facing the company, she spoke softly, “I know not what to do. We certainly cannot outrun the elves, especially if we have their Captain slowing us down. We are veritably trapped, ladies.”

Eyes widened in shock at this news. Their leader did not have a solution. All hope was lost.

Clearing her throat, Rarill addressed Ariel.

“Can we not still go to Minas Tirith, my Lady? You said before that it was possible to hide in the city, if we were careful.”

The others nodded in agreement, hope sparking in their stomach.

Ariel dismally shook her head. “They will surely be looking for us at the gates, now that they have the knowledge of what we look like. And, I do not think we could get to the White City before the elves. Do not forget, my friends, we are without horses. We travel with too many disadvantages.”

The group lapsed into silence, each swimming in their own melancholy.

Taking a deep breath, Ariel looked past the women, eyes resting on the Marchwarden. What else could the Thieves do? Eventually, they would fall to the elves, and slowly, the women were realizing this.

Glancing back at the company, Ariel managed a weak smile.

“We shall go to the falls. At least there we can find peace before our fate is so cruelly decided.”

Estella, a scout, spoke up. “There is only one exit from the falls, we will have no option of running if the elves find us. It is a foolish place to go to.”

Defending her Queen, Kayla, a rival scout, glared at Estella. “Then where do you suggest we go? At least at the falls, we are safe from being heard. The water creates such a loud sound when it crashes against the rocks that any person, human of elf, is unable to hear what happens in the cave behind the falls.”

Estella nodded her head in submission, turning to Ariel.

“We shall have to hurry, we are lucky that it is a short distance away,” remarked Ariel.

With that, the company headed back over to the elf and the women diligently watching him.

“It has been decided that we are going to the falls,” the Thief Queen announced, looking at Dialan.

Ariel glanced at Haldir. “You will come willingly Marchwarden, or suffer the consequences.

Haldir almost scoffed. Pathetic humans, always thinking they had unlimited power over any creature. It sickened him.

Not waiting for a reply, Ariel grasped his dagger and poked him in the lower back, forcing a reaction.

“Walk,” she ordered.

Not wanting to quarrel with an unstable female, Haldir moved his feet.

His soldiers would find him soon.

The rope that bound his wrists still refused to give way, and the Marchwarden was starting to get minimally vexed.

Turning off the main path, Ariel led the company, with Haldir in front of her.

Trees leaned menacingly over the group, threatening to grasp them in their brittle branches.

Haldir stayed silent, memorizing the route they were taking.

Within a short time, the Marchwarden’s sensitive ears heard the sound of running water. After a few moments, the company came upon a beautiful sight.

A massive waterfall poured down from the heavens, hitting the water so hard that it created a mist around the area, giving the illusion of enchantment.

The water, a light green in color, changed to navy when the sun skipped over it. Flower- bearing trees surrounded the pond, releasing blooms that gently cascaded into the water.

Keeping his nonchalant expression, Haldir acquiesced to being led around the water until Ariel reached the falls.

Cold blade met subtle skin as the Thief Queen forced the Marchwarden to enter the falls from the side, brushing by the rushing water.

The company of women followed, knowing the path all too well.

Glancing at his surroundings, Haldir was impressed. Staring coldly around, he inspected the surroundings.

They were in a cave of some sort, and even his elven ears could not hear beyond the roar of the falls.

Paintings littered the walls, getting moldy from the condensation of the water. Supplies were found at random intervals and he watched as a girl as a girl lit a torch.

As they went further on into the depths of the cave, Haldir’s hearing slowly increased until he could clearly listen to his own footsteps.

Finally stopping, Ariel managed a meager smile.

“Gather what food we left here on our last trip. Bring all the ale you can find, this will be a night to remember.”

Nodding, the women fulfilled her request, arms full of dried meats and murky beverage.

Turning to Haldir, Ariel pushed him down into a sitting position, knowing he could easily overtake her.

“Don’t move,” she commanded.

The Marchwarden quirked a golden eyebrow, his only sign of feeling.

Ariel glanced at the women, all having the same expression of lost hope alight on their rugged features.

“I suppose this is the end, my friends. It’s been an incredible journey, and I couldn’t think of anyone else I would rather spend my last day of freedom with,” Ariel murmured, her voice echoing around the cave. Tears jumped into her eyes, fighting for reprieve.

The company agreed, each inclining their heads, tears freely making a slippery path down their puffy cheeks.

Taking a deep breath, Ariel continued, “Well, we shouldn’t be sitting around crying about the situation. We should be celebrating!” She yelled, mustering up enough energy to laugh. “Grab a bottle of ale and share stories like old times! We still have time before the elves come, surely they will not find us for a while.” At this, she snuck a glance at Haldir, who’s expression revealed nothing.

None of the women moved. Faces were hard to see as the torches played tricks with the light.

“Go! Be merry!” Ariel laughed. She pointed to a girl. “Orien! Kindle us a fire, if you would.”

Smiling, Orien went about her task and, slowly, the others followed suit, each going about their own devices.

Happily sighing, Ariel sunk down next to Haldir. Hopefully, the ale would erase the concerns of the Thieves and take away from their sorrows.

The Marchwarden was impressed with Ariel. She had amazing leadership potential, and it was unfortunate that she committed so many crimes against Denethor.

Haldir mentally slapped himself. Complementing a human?! Surely, the closed conditions must be affecting his mind.

The lady at his right stayed silent, and he looked at her from the side, still trying to free himself from the rope.

Stealthily, Haldir studied Ariel.

Deep brown locks were abruptly cut off a little past her shoulders. She seemed taller than an average women, but still most probably only came up to Haldir’s chin. Muscular arms met scarred hands and nimble fingers. Her chest was broad for a lady, which gave her an almost masculine appearance. Retaining some delicate features, her face was also fierce. Her legs remained hidden from view under her dress. She was not horrible to look at, but all the same she simply did not compare with the eldar.

Feeling a stare, Ariel glanced at Haldir, only to be greeted with an icy exterior.

The Marchwarden once again try to undo his bindings.

Noticing his activities, Ariel smiled.

“I wouldn’t bother with trying, dear sir, those ropes are of elvish craft,” she laughed. “We stole them from a trader who refused to pay the toll.”

Breaking his silence, Haldir turned to her.

“Lady Taliwen, I suggest you do not admit to your crimes, as it only incriminates you further,” he said haughtily.

Ariel scoffed. “Who cares?” she asked, sounding like a rebellious child running away from home.

“Indeed,” answered Haldir.

“You speak in riddles master elf! Please, instruct me on how I should act!” she yelled, capturing the attention of every person in the cave. She was becoming hysterical.

The Marchwarden chose not to answer, which was a wise decision.

“Ha! At a loss for words are we?” she questioned, momentarily noticing the stares of the other women.

“Why are we all just standing around?” Tiera said, trying to lighten the mood. “C’mon! Let’s dance! Laurelin, I believe you have an extra instrument that you keep in the cave?”

The girl in question nodded, retrieving her instrument. Soon, a flow of notes was present and, hesitantly, the women began to move around the fire, hoping to dance away their problems.

Ariel stayed seated with Haldir, trying to calm herself down and keep her composure.

After a while, Laurelin picked up the pace of the rhythm, making the company move faster.

Ariel smiled at the sight, they were always happy when they danced.

Ale was poured freely around the women, and even Ariel started to partake of the beverage.

Haldir gave her a look, and she gave him a curious expression.

“What? They shouldn’t be the only ones to enjoy themselves before your companions get here, Marchwarden,” she said, swigging a mug of ale.

Soon, most of the women were drunk, including the Queen of Thieves.

Instead of dancing around the fire, now it mostly consisted of stumbles and hops. Laurelin grinned as she watched Kayla collide with Merna, both laughing at the act.

Dialan was up to her old habits, trying to loudly seek everyone’s attention by telling a rude joke about a dwarf and orc. Some things never changed.

Ariel was freely laughing with the group, but still had refused to leave her place beside Haldir, even though the alcohol in her system desperately wanted her to leap around the fire naked.

Taking another sip of ale, Ariel slapped Haldir on the shoulder. He didn’t even flich.

“Ha! They are d- dancing part- particularly well, for be- being drunk, don’t you think, my Lord?” she questioned, her words slurring together.

Haldir scoffed in response.

Ignoring him, Ariel went on. “I ‘spose it’s because you’re here, m- master elf. We seldom con- converse with the- the male species. Well, so- sometimes when former friends ven- venture outside of the city we- we will keep them company.”

Haldir raised an eyebrow in curiosity.

Ariel coughed, choking on ale and jerky.

“Now, they- they never come, ‘cause of the orcs and all,” she whispered in his ear, as if it was a secret.

Humans did strange things when ale was in their bodies.

Suddenly, Ariel’s expression grew melancholy.

“They- they shouldn’t have to- to live without the prospect of love. So- so many of them left be- behind lovers, you know. Dam Denethor!” her words were muffled by the laughter of the women around her. She hiccoughed a few times and looked at Haldir through lidded eyes.

“They d- dance beautifully,” she remarked.

Haldir laughed outright. He glanced at the women around the fire.

“That is not dancing. That looks like rabid animals hopping around a kill. Humans possess no grace nor style. They are disgusting creatures,” he said, anger seeping through his words.

“That is you- your opinion? You do not think that that dan- dancing is seductive at all?” Ariel questioned.

“Humans do not know the meaning of ‘seductive,’ Lady Taliwen,” Hadir stated, still trying to free himself from the rope at the same time.

Dropping her ale, Ariel stood up. “Is that sooo, Marchwarden? Hm, perhaps I sh- shall have to teach you a le- lesson,” she said, stuttering.

Breatjing deeply, she found the rhythm of the music fairly easily, as Laurelin always played loudly.

She started moving her feet, and her hips swayed to the beat.

The fire glittered in her eyes and her bare feet kicked up the dirt. Her face was submerged in darkness one moment but alight the next.

Haldir became intoxicated with her form. Even drunk, she evoked a strong emotion within him. The Marchwarden remained seated, content to just watch the mystifying performance.

Ariel danced closer to him, feet moving in a timeless rhythm.

Soon, she started touching him. First a careless touch on the shoulder, then a hand placed on his chest that made him ache with a strange sickness that he could not name. She was so close to him that he could smell the ale on her breath, and to his horror he was not disgusted.

Still swaying to the beat, Ariel watched Haldir through misty eyes, not really knowing what she was doing. She felt extremely liberated dancing in front of an elf that she barely even knew.

Bending down, her face became inches from Haldir’s. She subconsciously licked her lips and the Marchwarden widened his eyes. Something strange was taking hold of him.

They both started leaning in, the fire roaring around them and music echoing throughout the cave. Ariel closed her eyes and waited for the kiss...

Suddenly, Haldir heard a noise and turned away, almost touching Ariel’s soft, compliant lips.

Abruptly, the music subsided as elven warriors surrounded the women.

The Queen of Thieves stood, dumbfounded, as she all of the sudden felt very cold, even with the fire at her back.

-----------------------------------------------------------End Chapter





Not much to add this time...hm, how odd...

--Blade Eclipse


Chapter 6 - Prisoner of Sorts

Thanks for reading!

Without further ado:

A Stolen Love (And yes, it is a play on words, can you figure it out?)

Chapter 6: Prisoner of Sorts 
Ariel felt ill. Golden blonde heads surrounded the women, both an unearthly and intoxicating sight. They each had deadly blades drawn, a stern expression alighting their features. Silently, an elf with cat-like, elongated steps pulled Haldir up from his previous sitting position and freed him of his bindings. The marchwarden flexed his wrists and glanced at Ambar.

“Hannon Le,” Haldir murmured. “I was beginning to worry,” he said, a miniscule smile playing about his lips.

Smirking, Ambar gestured toward Ariel and the troop of women behind her, being held in place by weapons and fierce- looking warriors.

“What shall we do now Commander?” he questioned., voice never rising above a whisper.

Haldir looked toward the Thief Queen and, raising his voice so she could hear, said “We must take them to Minas Tirith and ensure that they receive the proper punishment for their crimes.” Suddenly, the image of Ariel swaying her hips invaded Haldir’s senses and he fought to retain his famous self control.

Sobering, Ariel tried to move toward the Marchwarden only to be blocked by two gorgeous elves. Peeking her head in between their shoulders, Ariel fixed Haldir with a penetrating stare.

“Master elf, I pray you, please hear me out,” she pleaded.

Keeping his mask of indifference, Haldir imperceptibly nodded his head.

Swallowing hard, Ariel spoke. “Denethor is only interested in my capture. I am the only one who deserves to be persecuted. These women have done nothing to warrant a punishment. Let them go. Take me in their place.”

Haldir mulled the information over in his mind.

“This would hurt the integrity and the reputation of the elven race, Lady Taliwen, and that is something not even I can override,” he commandingly explained.

Fearful eyes scanned the rigid bodies of the elves as the group of elves realized their predicament.

Ariel shook her head, on the verge of crying.

“Don’t you understand?” she whispered. “If they go back they will die, or worse!” She collapsed on the ground.

Haldir silently signaled for his troops to part as he came to rest beside Ariel. Crouching down, he placed his fingers under her soft chin, looking deeply into her eyes. Soon, he felt liquid stream down his calloused hand. Tears.

“Don’t you understand?” Ariel questioned, her vocal chords sounding strained and tired. “These are human lives, please, I beg of you, do not let them be so carelessly wasted.” Her eyes bored into the Marchwarden’s, desperation shining clearly through.

Haldir’s mask broke for an instant as a sigh escaped from his mouth. He looked at his soldiers, reading their expressions and knowing what he had to do. It was true, Denethor only seemed interested in Taliwen.

Stone countenance back in place, Haldir looked to the Thief Queen.

“You must promise to come along compliantly, no fighting us or trying to escape. If you agree, we shall let your group go free and tell Denethor that you scattered. Do we have a deal, Lady Taliwen?”

Ariel’s chest heaved with relief as she nodded her acquiesce to the Marchwarden. Her friends would be safe.

“You have five minutes to say your farewell’s,” Haldir commanded, eyes scanning the cave and its occupants.

Ariel’s eyes glazed over as she looked at everyone, blocking the elves out of her sight.

“I guess this is truly the end. Lead a good life ladies. Be happy,” she commented softly, the sound echoing throughout the cave.

“Ariel you can’t possibly be serious!” yelled Dialan. “You can’t leave us!”

“She has to sacrifice herself so that we may live,” said Tiera, her voice choking as tears cascaded down her puffy cheeks.

Each woman took a turn in hugging Ariel, too many emotions bottled up inside them to speak of.

“We shall never forget you Ar-” Rarill’s eyes widened as she realized her mistake, “Taliwen. We shall never forget you, Taliwen.”

“We won’t stand for this you know, my Queen,” Laurelin squeaked.

Ariel looked at her group sternly. “In no way will you try to rescue me. You shall certainly be killed. I love you all, and go with my blessing,” she murmured. As an afterthought, she added, “And, if you ever find Bow, please take of him.”

The women nodded, each crying with silent intensity.

Swiftly, the Marchwarden came up behind Ariel, binding her wrists. He led her out of the cave followed by his companions. Looking back one last time, Ariel bade her friends farewell.

“Namarie,” she stuttered.

Haldir quirked an eyebrow. “Pedich edhellen?” he asked. He accent was atrocious but still he was surprised.

Ariel gave him a quizzical look as they left the safety of the cave.

“Do you speak elvish Lady Taliwen?” Haldir questioned.

“Oh, no. I know odd words and phrases, milord.”

Haldir gave a silent inclination of his head as the troop marched through the forest. Once they rounded a corner, six of the most breath- taking horses that Ariel had ever seen appeared. Quickly, each elf mounted their animal, except Haldir.

“Lady Taliwen, you shall ride with me. I will hear no complaints from a human who is now a prisoner,” he coldly said.

Ariel didn’t respond as she was hoisted onto a jet- black steed. She felt Haldir slip in behind her. Whispering some unintelligible phrase to his horse, he went to the front of the group before taking off.

The Queen of Theieves had never felt so excited and uninhibited. Not even with Bow had she experienced such pure unadulterated freedom like this. Haldir acted like a solid wall, muscle skin protecting lest she fall back. His golden locks tickled her face and, she noted with a bit of embarrassment, that their hair was almost the same in length.

Haldir was having an inner battle with himself. The feeling of Taliwen in front of him, encased by his arms, was unnerving. Just one casual slip of his hand and he could be touching…

He silently scolded himself, reigning in his now fragile mentality and thinking of other topics.

Soon the novelty of the ride wore off, and Ariel was left to contemplate her fate. She had done the right thing, she knew, but that still did not deter her mind from the gruesome punishment she would most likely receive. The thought sent shudders up and down her spine, and the Marchwarden took notice of her condition.

Suddenly, Ariel felt something poking her in the side.

Hadlir’s knife!

He had forgotten to take it back from her. Perhaps she could feign illness and slip away…

Twas no good, she would surely be caught and the deal would be annulled.

The forest flashed by in brilliant greens and golds, yet Ariel made the atmosphere around her dismal.

Finally, Haldir was forced to stop Astaldo, refusing to let this human bring down his mood. As he was opening his mouth to berate her, she beat him to the punch.

“Master elf, I know that I am in no position to make requests, but if I may, please give me one last night of freedom. One last night to smell the forest and pluck the grass. One more night to say goodbye to my home,” she asked in a small voice. “I really am sorry for taking you hostage, but surely you realize that it was the only option I had left. Please, let me have this.”

Wise beyond her years she may be, but at this moment she sounded like a lost child forever searching for its mother.

Strangely, Haldir knew the feeling that this human was exhibiting. Years ago, right after he had become Marchwarden, they were ambushed by a group of orcs. Well, ambushed wasn’t exactly the correct word to describe it. It was more like, outnumbered, because they knew the enemy was coming, just not how many of them would be present.

Haldir remembered the pain on his warriors’ faces, and how when he became injured from a slash to the chest, all he could think about was Lothlorien, and how he would give anything to be back there, inhaling its sweet Eleanor scent and lying back in its grasses. Eventually, the elves defeated the despicable orcs, but it was not without casualties.

Coming back to the present, Haldir looked down his nose at the odd woman known as Taliwen.

Not breaking his icy mask, Haldir spoke “One night, Lady Taliwen, and you shall be bound for the duration of the period. This is the last and final gift you shall receive. You are lucky I give you anything, human, for you do not deserve it. And, no tricks.” He openly glared at the woman.

Ariel could have cried. She would have one more night to spend with the forest that she had so lovingly ruled over.

“Thank you,” she whispered, voice full of reverence. Haldir signaled for his company to dismount and sent Trian to build a fire.

Ambar led Haldi off to the side of the group.

“Man carel le?” he questioned.

Haldir graced his comrade with a knowing stare. “I know it goes against your wishes my friend, but believe me, human or not, I must grant this last request.”

“So, you must play the role of heroic messenger Captain? Why not leave the job to some one else?” the anger in Amber’s voice was evident. He desperately wanted to get home to Lorien.

“Do not question me soldier!” Haldir yelled vehemently. He was used to strict obedience.

Ambar took on a frightened expression and slowly backed away. Haldir in a bad mood was never good.

Soon, the sun had set and most of the elves had decided to walk the path of waking dreams. Quesse was out patrolling, and Haldir had opted to stay awake and watch the Queen of Thieves.

Her eyes remained transfixed on the fire. Reveling in the warmth of the open flames, Ariel noticed Haldir staring at her. She failed to place the look in his eyes before it disappeared behind a stony exterior.

The silence was unbearable, even for Haldir. Finally, he was forced to make conversation.

“Tell me, Lady Taliwen, how is it that you started down this traitorous path of stealing from others?” he questioned. In all actuality, it came out harsher than he had intended.

Ariel was slightly bemused that he still called her Taliwen, but his question made her scowl.

“You know nothing about me, so do not presume that my path was so ‘traitorous’ as you put it. You need not know my life story, Marchwarden,” she seethed.

Narrowing his eyes, Haldir began to grow slightly perturbed.

“You are here under my good graces, my lady, and I expect you to answer my questions,” Haldir said, feeling like grinding his teeth. He tried to think of another subject when a thought struck him.

“Why is your steed called ‘Bow’?” he asked.

Smiling slightly, Ariel faced the Marchwarden.

“I first met him inside the city. He was within the soldier training grounds and the trainers were trying to tame him. Archery practice had just started and my cousin was hoping to prove his skill, and I come along for support. There was a teacher there, Lord Ulmagen, I believe his name was, and he was as much hated as he was feared. Anyway, Bow had just reared on his masters and decided to run and cause havoc on the practice fields. My cousin was in the process of aiming and releasing his arrow when Bow came running past him, throwing off his balance. The arrow was launched, and its course lead it straight into Lord Ulmagen’s backside!” Ariel laughed loudly, waking the other elves around her.

Haldir’s lips quirked slightly.

“Of course,” Ariel continued,” he was in the healers wing for a week. I immediately took a liking to such a daring horse and had to buy him. My cousin gave me his bow, saying it was cursed, but I knew better. It was a miraculous object. So, that is how Bow received his name.”

“Interesting,” Haldir said. Hm, so the Lady Taliwen must have been slightly well off to have enough money to buy a horse. Perhaps a woman of the court? As he was about to ask her another question, he realized that she had fallen asleep.

Her head was propped against a tree trunk, and her hands were still bound behind her back. It did not look comfortable, but Haldir could not help it.

Wait.

Was Haldir actually concerned about a human? What was going on?

Studying her more closely, Haldir noticed something bulging out of her side.

Stepping like a predator about to pounce on its prey, he slowly made his way to the Theif Queen. She was obviously in deep sleep. Small snores escaped her as Haldir raised her shirt a little, revealing creamy white skin, with his dagger shining brightly against it.

Fool! How could he forget?! He must have been too caught up in the moment, but it was still no excuse. He carefully removed the weapon from its resting place and tucked it into his boot. He found himself touching her skin, feeling the soft warmth on the pads of his fingers.

Suddenly, he drew his hand away as if he had just been bitten by a snake. What in Eru’s name was going on? He had been with elleths more beautiful than words or songs, yet he was more tempted by this filthy human than any other female he had ever encountered.

He swiftly moved back to his seat, glancing around making sure no one saw the transaction. Running his hands through his hair, Haldir let out a shaky breath.

Ariel had been awoken when she felt fingers upon her skin. She feigned sleep, trying to grasp her surroundings. But, the feeling dissipated in an instant, and it left her feeling cold, an empty shell. Too tired to open her eyes, she fell back into a dreamless sleep, magical fingers roaming over her…

Waking as the sun glowed upon her face, Ariel stretched languidly. Then, the events from the past few days hit her, and she felt terribly sick. Turning, she retched into the nearby bushes. This is not good.

Haldir had already packed away all of the supplies and was just about to retrieve Taliwen.

Trying to stand, Ariel lost her balance and was pitched forward. Fortunately, a pair of strong arms was there to catch her. Looking up, she was greeted by Haldir’s mask of cold indifference. He pulled he upright and set her on the horse. The other elves were already mounted. They seemed to be able to read each other’s movements perfectly.

Amazing.

When she felt the Marchwarden climb on behind her, her heart lifted. It was foolish to think he would have the slightest interest in her, but the purely physical passion that she felt for him was getting stronger by the minute as he sat behind her.

The hours went by without distraction, and by midday they were in view of the blazing white gates of Minas Tirith.

Numerous guards stood at the front, restricting visitors. A white tree decorated their armor weapons hung at their belts.

Haldir took the lead, stopping in front of a soldier.

“State your purpose,” he gruffly said.

Haldir turned his head, no doubt indicating his pointed ears. “I have captured the Thief Queen and request to turn her over to Lord Denethor.”

The guard was already vigorously shaking his head in apology.

“I am sorry Master elf, you and your company have permission to enter.”

The gate creakingly accepted the new occupants and they rode deep into the city. The stairs were many but the horses made it up easily. Ariel felt a deep grief pervade her soul. She would never see Bow again.

All to soon, the steeds were given to a stable hand and Ariel found herself being led to the throne room.

Entering, the surroundings turned a chilling cold. Denethor looked up from his Steward’s seat, his eyes gleaming in joy.

“So, you have finally been caught, thief,” he slithered out. He met them half way and put his hand under Ariel’s chin. “Tis about time, I’d think,” he spoke, mouth smelling of dead rats and overipened tomatoes.

Ariel spit into his face.

It was only fitting, after all.

She received a slap for her efforts.

“Guards!” Denethor called. “Take her away from my presence!”

Ariel was dragged away, her last sight was of an icy Marchwarden who had a look of anguish in his eyes.

“I thank you for capturing the criminal, Lord Haldir. Long has she been plaguing the forests of Gondor,” he said.

“Twas our pleasure, My Lord. Unfortunatly, we were not able to apprehend the other women…” Haldir explained.

Denethor waved off the statement.

“They are of no importance,” he sneered.

Snapping his fingers, a servant brought forth the alliance contract. Denethor quickly signed and handed the quill to Haldir, who mirrored the same action.

“It is done then. May our alliance be prosperous!” he gleefully said.

Haldir merely inclined his head, forcing a strangled smile.

“Marchwarden, it is required of you to stay for her trial, I am afraid. We need the first- hand account of her captors. It is already set for tomorrow, so you will only have to stay for one more day. Surely you can manage?” Denethor asked.

“Of course, My Lord,” Haldir said, trying not to shatter his perky countenance.

“Splendid!” yelled Denethor. “You rooms have already been prepared. Have an enjoyable evening.”

Haldir had been lying in his bed for more than two hours, wide awake. He couldn’t get the image of her out of his mind.

Soon, he found himself exploring the structure until he came upon the dungeons. Cautiously, he entered. He was halted by a guard midway in, but he was hastily allowed passage as they learned of his identity. He knew they would not let him stay down here forever, so he had to make this last visit count.

What he even going to ask her had not occurred to him.

Beggars and murderers littered the cells, cramming into ever crevice.

He found Taliwen in a cell by herself, her head resting on her knees.

“Lady Taliwen?” he said, looking down at her.

Her eyes had sunken into her skull in the few hours that she had been returned to Minas Tirith. She moved with an almost ghost- like quality.

“Marchwarden? What are you doing down here?” she asked, surprise evident in her voice.

“I wish I knew myself. Tell me, what were you before you became a thief?” he posed the question gently. He didn’t know why he chose to say it, but nevertheless, he was curious.

Ariel’s eyes took on a haunted expression. “I suppose you will find out tomorrow, master elf. I need not have to relive is twice in twenty four hours.”

Haldir licked his lips, asking “What will happen tomorrow, after the trial?”

A hollow laugh escaped Ariel. “I will be executed, of course.”

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps drew near.

The guards.

“Lady Taliwen, I am sorry. I will try to explain how you came along willingly, but I fear I cannot do much,” Haldir said coldly, trying not to let his emotion show.

The footsteps became louder.

“I do not expect you to defend me, elf. There is no need. This is my fate,” the last word came out as a sob.

What happened to her being the fearless Queen of Thieves? Ariel was ashamed.

She stood up and got as close as she could to the bars.

Before Haldir could react, she had pulled him to the cold, rusted bars. Hastily, she kissed the golden- haired elf and pushed him back as the guard finally found them.

They both were flustered, and Haldir was extremely disoriented.

“By the way, Marchwarden, my name is Ariel,” she said, catching her breath as Haldir was escorted down the corridor.

------------------------------End of Chapter






Thank you,

-Blade Eclipse


Chapter 7 - The Trial

I'm back! Sorry for the wait!

Chapter 7 
The Trial

Ariel had lost track of the time. Hours passed by like a softly falling wind, caressing the atmosphere and putting every blade of grass into silent submission. The cell was cold and dank, smelling of decaying rats.

In her previous life, before becoming a thief, Ariel had known some of the soldiers that were guarding her room, if it could even be labeled as such.

Oh, how funny the fates could be.

Bastards.

The guards, in fact, used to be her friends. She would flirt and dance with them on special occasions and was even courted by a few.

But how time changes all.

She laughed bitterly, attracting the attention of fellow prisoners across the way. Ariel hoped that her thieves were faring well and knew enough to get out of Gondor. Hopefully the harsh plains of Rohan would be a safe haven.

Ariel’s face felt tired and stretched. Lips chapped and bleeding, the Thief Queen held her fingertips to the mildew- covered walls, trying to catch the perspiration that seemed to coat the cell. Her thoughts drifted to a certain golden haired elf as she stared blankly into space.

What had possessed her to kiss him?

She felt disgusted with herself. She was not a tramp or street whore.

“I thought he would be the last male I would come in contact with, I just wanted to have one last moment…” she tried to reason with herself, but failed miserably.

Stomach growling loudly, Ariel swore and pushed her head against the wall, creating an audible thump.

In the dim light, the cell across from the Thief Queen’s awoke, and a human body pushed up against the bars.

“Bless me own two eyes, is that lil’ Ariel come back from the forest?” a gruff voice questioned.

Eyes popping open, Ariel pushed up against her cell, rust scraping off of the bars and transferring onto her worn tunic.

“Rhiney? Is that you?” she whispered in awe. “I thought you were dead, saw the bloody clothes myself.”

A deep chuckle pervaded the walls.

“A spear couldn’ bring me down. Nah, I put up a fight, an’ was captured, o’ course. They took a hot poker an’ burned me eyes. I can only sea shadows now, but I ge’ by,” he explained, “But, I be hearin’ the strangest of rumors lately, abou’ a band o’ women thieves…” He trailed off.

Ariel swallowed hard, trying in vain not to cry over her old friend’s misfortunes.

“It’s over, Rhiney. I got caught,” she smirked. “They had to send in elves to capture me. I suppose Denethor will have me executed by tomorrow evening. I just hope the others are okay.”

“Over, girly? Nothin’s ever over ‘less you let yourself be overcome wit’ grief.”

Heavy footsteps sounded in the dungeon hallway, every prisoner cringing and shrinking to the back of their cells in fear.

Ariel and Rhiney fell silent, creating a void of emptiness within the cells. A guard appeared between their cells, and smiled down at Ariel. Grimy, yellow teeth greeted the Thief Queen’s eyes, and she cringed.

“Now, it seems, that you two are to be tried and sentenced at the same time. A kind of two for one special, I ‘spose,” smirked the guard.

Calling to another soldier, they opened the cells. Ariel pushed herself to the farthest wall of the meager room as a young- looking guard entered, his stance cautious. Little slits in the wall gave way to minute, solid rays of sunlight and recognition sparked in the deep chambers of Ariel’s mind.

“Wheric! Is that you?” she questioned, mind reeling. His eyes connected with hers, and suddenly images pervaded her senses.

She sat on the white- washed stone steps that led up to the kitchens, enjoying the light breeze playing about her face. A contented sigh escaped her mouth as a dark shadow cast a refreshing shade onto her body.

“Why, a lady such as your self should not be sitting by herself on such a fine day,” the figure commented, a smile playing across his face.

Shielding her eyes from the biting sun, she glanced up at the tall man.

“Wheric, I am fully capable of taking care of myself, I assure you, and need no male accompaniment,” she commented, grinning like a cat.

The man swooped down and winked at Ariel.

“But, surely my lady would not mind if the intrusion was made by her betrothed?” he asked, a small frown marring his complexion.

Smoothing out the crease on his brow, Ariel smiled as Wheric pulled her to him, their lips meeting in a languid kiss, soft and sweet to the touch.

Pulling back, Ariel looked up at him. “You know, upon further contemplation, I believe that intrusions are perfectly fine…”

Momentarily, Ariel was dragged back into the present as a sharp dagger prodded her shoulder.

“Stand up,” Wheric ordered. The Thief Queen gaped at him, mouth hanging open and eyes bulging out of their sockets.

“I..I thought you were dead!” she said, dumbfounded. “they told me that you- ”

“Silence prisoner!” he yelled, his cold eyes scanning her form, stripping her of dignity. “You are to comply or be taken to Lord Denethor by force.”

Narrowing her eyes, Ariel looked Wheric up and down. “You are not the man I remember from years past.”

Pulling her up roughly by the decrepit tunic, he held up her to his height, making her feet dangle helplessly in the air.

“I should hope, wench, that you find no trace of that boy you once knew. You are a traitor to your kingdom and deserve to be hung!” he spat, nose inches from hers.

Letting go of her shirt, he watched in blatant disgust as she tried to straighten up and regulate her breathing.

“Along with ye!” yelled the other guard, shoving her out of the cell and into Rhiney.

The pair was herded through long, endless hallways until they came upon a door that stood fifty feet and had ornate carvings embedded in its wood.

Two soldiers opened the door, and Ariel and Rhiney were unceremoniously pushed into the throne room, their death chamber.

Oddly familiar, the stone tiles chilled her already barren feet, sending silent shivers throughout her body. Locking eyes with Rhiney, Ariel looked him over. He was skinnier than she remembered, and his dark blonde hair hung in clumps about his face. Always tall for his age, he towered over the guards, bulky muscles waiting to be released on command.

Rhiney gave the Thief Queen a shaky smile, and she tried her best to return.

Eyes smothered Ariel. It seemed that the entire court had decided to show up on this day, and the thought did not help the dread that rested in Ariel’s breast.

Grabbing her by the collar, Wheric halted Ariel’s progress, making her stand to the outside of the main court. Rhiney, on the other hand, was forced to continue.

Glancing around, Ariel’s stare was met with the contemptuous gazes of nobles. Sighing, she dejectedly turned her eyes to the throne, where she clashed with icy blue pupils, cold as the sea.

The Marchwarden.

He was looking down at her with such a loathing that she had to turn away from the elf.

“No doubt he found out about my past,” Ariel thought to herself, disgusted. Turning, she watched Rhiney be shoved on the unforgiving floor, facing Denethor. He made no outward movement of fear, and Ariel smiled, despite the circumstances. Rhiney had always been there for her when she was just a little girl, and now, to see him like this, partially blind and beaten and yet triumphant…

It made her heart swell with pride and her eyes water with unshed tears.

Suddenly, a movement was made from the Steward, and he began to speak.

“Prisoner, you have been brought before this court on numerous offences,” Denethor sneered, glaring down at Rhiney.

The burly man said nothing in return, opting for silence as the two guards holding him forced him down even lower.

Clearing his throat, the Steward of Gondor proceeded. “You have been charged on fifteen counts of assaulting a soldier and stealing royal horses from the castle stables. How do you plead?”

Rkiney furrowed his brows a moment before replying, “I thought it was 26 counts of assault, but say whatever you want, milord.”

Cheeks flaming in rage, Denethor stepped menacingly toward the burly man. “I shall take that as an admission of guilt,” he spat, stopping abruptly as he realized how close he had come to the prisoner.

Rhiney remained silent, his unseeing eyes scanning the room.

“Now,” Denethor spoke loudly, drawing the attention of the court back to himself, “We must decide on a proper punishment…” He trailed of purposefully, glancing around expectantly.

“Hang him!” yelled a man of obvious nobility. Half of the hall cheered in agreement while others seemed wary.

“He deserves more than that! How many soldiers has he tortured? He should get the same treatment, I think!” screamed a high-class woman. There were claps and praises in response.

Throughout all of this, Ariel noticed, the elves had yet to say anything. In fact, none of their golden heads had moved an inch during the whole proceedings. Haldir was staring intently at Denethor, his countenance revealing nothing.

Denethor rose up a calloused hand and the crowd immediately silenced, hanging on his every word.

“People of the court, I have heard your opinions and words, and have decided on a proper fate. This criminal,” he sneered, pointing to Rhiney,” shall be whipped fifteen times, for every instance in which he assaulted a soldier.”

“I tell ya it was twenty six,” Rhiney muttered under his breath.

The Steward ignored him and projected his voice across the room. “And furthermore, he shall be hanged for his crimes against the crown at sundown tonight.”

A great rapture of cheers swept through the hall the people cheering the decision, yet the elves still remained stoic.

Suddenly, a great scream swept through the crowd.

“No!” Ariel yelled. “How careless can you people be? A human life is not something to be taken away at your leisure!” she sobbed.

“Silence you thief! Your turn shall be soon enough!” thundered Denethor, his eyes smirking at her.

“You shall listen and hear me out you sad excuse for a ruler, I-”

But she was cut off by Rhiney.

“Child, you just be diggin’ your self in deeper. This was gonna happen sooner or later,” he whispered, struggling against the guards holding him.

“Take him away and make the preparations for tonight,” dismissed Denethor, flicking an irritated hand at the soldiers holding Rhiney. Nodding, they took their prisoner and practically dragged him out of the great hall.

“Rhiney no!” Ariel screamed, her lungs convulsing and her body growing weak.

“Make her silent!” Denethor commanded.

Wheric quickly snapped to attention and, taking the blunt end of his dagger, solidly hit the Queen of Thieves in the back of the head.

Everything swirled together for a moment before a headache bloomed from within the confines of Ariel’s head. This was just too much. First losing her thieves, then Rhiney. She wasn’t able to cope with it.

No, she must be strong. She would not break!

Leveling her shoulders, she stared evenly into the eyes of the Steward of Gondor, a clashing of wills ensuing.

Wheric gripped Ariel’s shoulders painfully tight and pushed her roughly to the floor.

“You will show the proper respect for a Steward of Gondor, peasant,” he ordered.

Knees aching and bleeding, the Queen of Thieves rose from the floor and stared straight into the eyes of her former beloved.

“If this so called Steward warranted any type respect, I would be the first to bow and kiss his feet. As the situation stands, I see nothing in front of me other than a misguided rat!” she spat.

The next few minutes were a haze as Ariel received blows to almost every part of her body imaginable.

“That shall be added to your numerous crimes against Gondor,” Denethor lazily said. He was having fun toying with her.

Ariel couldn’t speak. She could feel her own blood running down in rivulets, cascading across her back and over her stomach, making her decrepit tunic stick to her frame. Her hair hung in clumps, dried blood making the strands brittle and stained. Her bare feet were numb, not able to feel anything from the cold, stone floor.

She could feel a dagger pressed into her back as Wheric and another soldier led her to the center of the hall that Rhiney had just previously occupied.


Smiling, Denethor took slow, calculating steps around the room, circling Ariel and addressing the crowd.

“Ariellan daughter of Calidos, you stand before this council guilty of seventy six counts of assault, fifty two of which were upon soldiers, stealing and squandering money from even the highest of nobility, forming a group of rebels that opposed the kingdom, and attempting to kill a royal advisor’s son,” Denethor finished, sweeping his hands around the room.

The sheer anger radiating off of the crowd made Ariel almost buckle her knees. Everywhere, eyes assailed her. Contempt flowed through every crevice and stung her nose.

Glancing around, the Thief Queen’s eyes locked onto those of the Marchwarden. His eyes pierced through her, as though reading her soul. She could tell nothing from his gaze, and looked away, ashamed of what he must think of her.

“Why should I care what an elf thinks of me?” Ariel thought to herself. “He doesn’t even know me.”

Resolved, she puffed out her chest and cocked her chin.

“You shall not have the chance to speak for yourself in this instance, Ariellan, as it has already been concluded by the high council that you are, in fact, guilty on all counts,” Denethor smirked, yellowing teeth snaking through his lips.

Outraged, Ariel made to speak. But before she could utter a word, Wheric had gagged her while the other guard tied her hands.

“We have here testimony from the victim, Wheric, son of Yenell. Step forward and speak now, soldier,” commanded Denethor.

Extinguishing his hold on Ariel, Wheric moved in front of her. Another soldier took his place holding the Thief Queen.

“My Lord,” Wheric bowed, “two years ago I was unfortunate enough to be engaged to this vile rodent.”

The crowd gasped as one, shaming Ariel into submission.

Sneering, Wheric picked up Ariel’s face by the chin, letting her blood run over his clean hand.

“Soon after our engagement, I found out some interesting information,” he declared, brutally letting go of her face and turning to the crowd as if about to act out a story.

“Little did I know that my betrothed had been sharing a bed with a man by the name of Eringel!” the onlookers all possessed looks of shock upon their faces, for they knew the tale of Eringel very well.

Ariel was thoroughly confused and outraged. She had been nothing but faithful to Wheric! She had thought him dead until now! Emotions swirled and mutated inside her, making her feel sick to her stomach.

All the while, she could feel a searing gaze on her, and she didn’t have to look up to see whom it was.

The Marchwarden kept his mask in place, while inside he was fuming. He knew he had been right about humans, filthy creatures that that they are. And to think this woman had kissed him! It made Haldir sick with loathing just thinking about it. Humans were simple creatures who cared nothing for decency and rules. This woman deserved to pay for her crimes.

“Yes, we all remember Eringel. He was my most trusted friend and I would have given my life for him if the need presented itself. To think of what he did to my betrothed made me want to rip him to shreds. But alas, our laws would not permit it, and I was content to see him stripped of all honor and exiled from out fine kingdom,” explained Wheric.

Tears sprang to Ariel’s eyes. Eringel had been a loyal friend and confidant. How could Wheric do such hideous things? The Queen of Thieves tried to figure out how all of this could’ve happened.

“After I found out about her little affair, I warned her that I would go to the proper authorities if she did not stop in her doings. She refused, and I told her that I was going straight to Denethor, as my father was one of his advisors,” Wheric paused for effect.

“Twas then Ariel grabbed my dagger and tried to stab me, yelling ‘I will not let you get out alive!’” He professed dramatically. “I, of course, subdued the woman and ran to find an extra guard. But, when I came back, the wench had escaped, making her more of a coward than I thought was possible,” he concluded.

Ariel leaped forward and growled. The gag in her mouth prevented her from saying anything coherent.

Denethor stood and nodded to Wheric, who moved back and took his position behind Ariel again.

“As you see, Lords and Ladies of Minas Tirith, this woman has committed multiple crimes against this great city, and deserves to be punished for her acts.

The crowd cheered in agreement and jeered at the Thief Queen.

Ariel was a broken woman. Her head hung low and the guards were practically holding her up. Most of her wounds had stopped bleeding and crimson flakes littered her body.

“Pitiful,” thought Haldir, now angry at the mortal woman.

“The only fit punishment for such treason…is death!” proclaimed the Steward, sneering.

Ariel’s head popped up and sought the eyes of her only friend, well, not any more, she supposed. Ice blue collided with stormy hazel.


“Her execution will be set for dawn tomorrow!” yelled Denethor, much to the delight of the court.

Haldir stood, impassive, as they unceremoniously dragged the Queen of Thieves away to the dungeons.

-------------End of chapter

please review!

Blade


Chapter 8 - Bittersweet Mortality

Yes, I’m back! School has just completely tapped me out, but break is right around the corner, and I’m starting to see the light. I’ve had some new revelations about this story, and expect more twists and turns as time goes on!

Thank you so much, and, once, again, I am so sorry for not doing this sooner.

Your reviews are what made this happen:


Chapter 8

Bittersweet Mortality

Wheric held Ariel’s arm in an iron grip as he led the Thief Queen back to her cell. Defeated and battered, her shoulders slumped and her head seemed parallel with the floor. She was trying to withhold the tears that threatened to surface once more. This couldn’t be happening. 

He mercilessly threw Ariel into her cell, motioning for the extra guards to give him time alone with her. They nodded their heads compliantly and left down the dimly lit hallway.

The Queen of Thieves crouched in a corner, falling back on her basic instincts. She acted like a wounded animal.

Wheric stood silently in the doorway for a moment, face surrounded by shadow, before stepping inside the cell. He smirked at Ariel, clearly taking enjoyment in her torment.

“I don’t understand,” Ariel rasped, trying to find her voice. “Lana told me herself that you were dead. And now, I find you like this…”

The man quirked his head and hauled the Thief Queen to her feet. She stood, shakily. 

“You still haven’t figured it out?” Wheric questioned. He gently stroked the side of Ariel’s face, ignoring the dried blood that caked most of the area. “Poor, trusting Ariellan.”

“I did not deceive you Wheric! How could you condemn me to death! After all that I have shared with you! You, my betrothed!” she sobbed. Ariel was answered with a sharp slap to the face.

“Little whore, you are no betrothed of mine. I never wanted you. Your father’s high rank was the only reason I went ahead with the marriage proposal. You are far too unattractive to have anyone actually want you. You look like one of my foot soldiers! Didn’t you know that?” he said, smiling sardonically. 

Ariel couldn’t take it anymore.

Tears started streaming down her face, clearing a path through the blood.

“Oh, don’t cry,” Wheric tsk’d. “It isn’t becoming of a lady of the court.” He replaced his hand on her cheek. “I must admit, though, there is one thing that I miss about you.” He pushed her against the wall and set his free hand on her waist. 

With the little strength she had, Ariel tried to struggle with Wheric, but alas to no avail. He merely laughed and pushed his body into her.
“Now that isn’t very nice,” he commented.

Suddenly, he savagely attacked Ariel’s mouth, biting her lips and making them bleed. She whimpered and Wheric pulled away.

“Yes, I do miss your kisses, among other things,” he whispered, eyes roaming over her body. The Thief Queen shuddered and felt tainted.

The sound of footsteps echoed in the hall. The guards were coming back. Ariel had never been so comforted by the sound of her enemies. 

Wheric quickly brought his cheek to hers, his lips only a small distance from her ear.

“This was the only way for Lana and I to be together, Ariel. It is regretful that you had to get in the way, but sacrifices must be made. You know of her bloodlines. I could not pass this up.”

Ariel looked at him sharply. “What are you saying?” she gasped. Wheric’s body was pinning her down, cutting off her air supply. 

He backed off of her just as the guards came to relieve him. He wiped the blood he had retained from kissing Ariel off of his mouth.

“It’s simple, really. I chose Lana over you.”

With that, he smoothly walked out of the cell, leaving the Queen of Thieves sitting in the corner, shaking. 

It was a welcome reprieve when she fainted from exhaustion.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
 


Ariel was awakened by the swift kick a burly soldier. He battered her once more for good measure and pulled her up into a standing position.

“The Steward has a surprise for you,” the guard smiled, yellow teeth revealing rotten gums.

The Queen of Thieves was disoriented. She had no inclination as to how long she had been asleep, and feared that she lacked even the energy to ask the soldier.

Suddenly, Ariel, was thrown through a door. Mahogany eyes clashed with burnt sienna as the Thief Queen met the sunset. She blacked out for a time, her eyes having difficulty adjusting to the scenery and light changes. 

When Ariel finally regained her senses, she took note of her surroundings. They were in a courtyard that Ariel had frequented when she was younger. It seemed as if the whole court had crowded into the small area.

“But why?” Ariel wondered as the guard prodded her in the back with a sword, urging her forward. The sea of people parted as they saw the Queen of Thieves move forward. Some spat at her, while others hurled insults.

“I don’t understand, my execution is set for sunrise. Even Denethor would not go back on that…” she thought.

Her query was soon answered as a scaffold came into view. A scaffold that held an oddly familiar mountain of a man.

“Rhiney!” Ariel yelled, only to realize that she had lost her voice. What came out was a hoarse whisper.

Her friend stood upon the planks, noose around his neck. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be almost smiling. 

Ariel was led to a raised platform in the courtyard that held the higher members of the court, first and foremost-Denethor.

Eyes narrowing, Ariel tried to muster all of her strength and launched herself at the Steward. She was, of course, stopped by the mass of a guard and thrown to the ground, tasting the earth.

Denthor’s laughter rang out among the people, silencing all in the vicinity.

 “Well, well, well, Ariellan. How nice that you could join us,” drawled the Steward. Ariel glared at him from the ground, not even moving.

Addressing the crowd, Denethor took a breath. “Tonight, justice begins her journey of purging this great kingdom of its plight. Long have we feared for our very lives thanks to these vile creatures. It is our duty-nay, our pleasure- to help justice in its pursuits!”

With this, the court cheered as one and focused their attention to the scaffold.

The Thief Queen was raised from the ground, but didn’t have the strength to stand. She collapsed onto the earth, her head spinning.

“Well, that will not do. Guards, hold her up. I would not want her missing this,” the Steward sneered. 

Ariel was hauled up again, but this time the guards did not let go of her, supporting her weight.
Closing her eyes to fend off the dizziness that threatened to overtake her, Ariel realized that she could not cry anymore, her eyes feeling as dry and chapped as her lips.

When the dizziness ended, the Queen of Thieves opened her eyes to the sight of her dear friend being moved to stand above a trap door.

Almost as if sensing her anguish, Rhiney found Ariel’s eyes. He flashed her a look of sympathy.

Ariel tried to turn her head away, struggling with her captors. They simply held her tighter, one grabbing her head and holding her eyes open.

Giving a silent command to the executioner, Denethor smiled as a lever was pulled.

“RHINEY!” screamed Ariel, feeling like her soul had been ripped in two.

She screamed until her voice grew hoarse and ragged. 

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Haldir was pacing. Yes, the Marchwarden of Lothlorien was pacing like a nervous human.

And oh, how it sickened him.

“That little witch has done something to me,” he whispered angrily. It had required all of his being to not take the Thief Queen into his arms and protect her at the trial. This was madness.

But, that wasn’t why he was pacing.

Moments ago, his keen ears had picked up on the sounds of a terrible scream. It stood out from all the cries of joy, and Haldir immediately knew who it was.

“Taliwen,” his mind whispered.

“No, no, it is Ariel now,” he remarked aloud.

Oh Varda, he was now speaking to himself! This human had somehow invaded the recesses of his mind. He needed to put an end to this interference.

Tomorrow would most definitely take care of that particular situation. 

But, would that really satisfy him, seeing her die?

It ‘twas no matter, she was only a human. They meet their maker everyday. It is no concern of his. Besides, Ariel deserved her punishment. After Haldir had heard of her treachery, he also believed that death was the only appropriate punishment when dealing with humans.

After all, it was only a human life that would be snuffed out. It’s not as if it mattered.

Haldir was disgusted when he saw the Queen of Thieves so broken at her trial. She already looked as if she had passed into the afterlife.

It would be a pity having to go to her hanging, but proper political decorum called for it. He would watch on, having no trace of emotion on his face, the proper model for all elven kind. 

“I have seen many a human die, and this will surely not be the last time. She means nothing,” he tried to reassure himself.

But, when their eyes had met at the end of her trial sentence, something grabbed Haldir by the gut and pulled. In one glance he had found a million emotions, each one striving for release.

Desperation, loneliness, denial, pain- each feeling surfaced in that one instance. It stirred something in the Marchwarden.

What kind of spell had Ariel cast on him?

Sitting, Haldir glanced out the window to meet the sunrise, sighing for the first time in 200 years.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

All feeling had left Ariel. She sliced her thumb using her fingernail, drawing blood, and still could feel no pain.

Coldness surrounded her like a welcome friend, and she didn’t mind that her eyes had crusted shut from her un-wiped tears.

She leaned against her cell wall, already intimately acquainted with its familiar stone blocks.

Her legs had given out completely. She was as weak as a doll.

She thought of her Thieves, and sent out silent prayers and hopes that they had made it to Rohan. Surely Haldir would keep his promise.

Strangely, Ariel was not afraid of what the morning would bring. She was too tired to care. And, while she physically could feel nothing, her mind was reeling with mental anguish.

The cold stare that Haldir had given her before she left her trial had shaken her to the core, and a hollow pit had formed in the bowels of her stomach. For some reason, she found herself still drawn to the elf.

“It is only because of his beautiful face,” she whispered unconvincingly to herself. Something deeper lie between the Queen of Thieves and the Marchwarden. 

But what?

“I shall never get the chance to find out,” Ariel thought to herself. This statement alone had the power to render The Thief Queen unconscious, too tired to dwell on chances missed.

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

She awoke to the smell of grass and trees. It took a long while to coordinate herself to the new surroundings.

The sky was dark, but had the pre-dawn light in its wake. The earth was wet beneath Ariel’s fingers, and suddenly it registered.

“I am going to die today,” she stated.

A laugh next to her caused the Thief Queen to look to her right, eyes locking with those of Denethor.

“Any minute now, my lady, dawn will come. And you will never again be a thorn in my side,” the Steward mocked.

“Oh I imagine many more thorns shall surpass mine in your side, my Lord, you need not worry,” Ariel intoned.

A swift kick to the ribs was her answer.

“Insolent girl, it is of no matter to me what you say anymore,” he glared. Motioning to his guards, he went to take his seat on the high platform.

Following unspoken orders, the guards dragged The Queen of Thieves through the crowd of onlookers. It seemed as if the whole city had showed up.

Ariel could look at no one, so ashamed of how broken she had become.

While the soldiers held her up, the executioner fitted a rope  around her neck.

It felt scratchy and stiff.

The onlookers sounded like a mass of wild bees, each one gossiping with the next. This was like entertainment to them.

Ariel was too tired to care.

The guards would have to hold her up until the very last minute.

Wearily, Ariel’s eyes scanned the crowd until they were drawn to the familiar icy blue of the Marchwarden.

“If I am to die, at least it will be while gazing at something beautiful,” she resignedly thought.

Ominously, Denethor rose from his seat.

“Citizens of Minas Tirith, today shall be a day for reckoning and justice! Long have our merchants been prayed upon in the forests. Long has out great city suffered under the terror of this band of Thieves!” he waited for the cheers to stop before continuing. “No more! Know that I, your dutiful Steward, has protected your city! It was I who enlisted the help of the elves and I who has caught this supposed Queen of Thieves! Today shall be a day of joy! Celebrate the new freedom of our fair city!”

He sat down to tumultuous applause. Making eye contact with the black-robed executioner, Denethor raised his hand and created a cutting motion across his neck with it.

The time for Ariel’s death had come.

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Haldir was torn.

Denethor’s speech had sickened him to the extreme. ‘A day of joy’ indeed. 

When his and Ariel’s eyes had met again, something sparked in his body.

He didn’t care if it was witchcraft.

He didn’t care that she was human.

As Denethor motioned his hand across his throat, Haldir could only cry out:

“Daro!”














…But someone had already beaten him to it. 


-------------------------------------End of Chapter





Please review! These gave me the motivation to start writing again.

-Blade
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