Title: CAPTURED

Authors: Fianna and Heather the Mage

Rating: R for violence

WARNINGS: Elves will die. If you do not like such angst, please do not read further.

Disclaimer: Lórien and the world of Arda belong to JRR Tolkien and are written here only for personal pleasure and respect to the one who created them.

CAPTURED

Chapter 1 – A Lost Treasure

"Perhaps it is a trap?" The Lord of Lórien remarked in a concerned tone, staring at his wife as she held up a tattered piece of parchment meant as a letter, the book in his hand forgotten

"Does it matter?" Galadriel responded, placing the paper on the table to look at it closely. "We have proof now that Amroth's vial still exists."

"Proof in a letter written by someone who can hardly scrawl their name?" Celeborn replied doubtfully. He set his book on the floor and rose to look over his wife's shoulder. "The drawing is terrible, yet I do see the details that might have you believe they know what they are talking about; but truly, my love, do we dare investigate further? The Haradrim are traders and thieves. They do travel in vast circles; yet for them to have found the vial that once held Amroth's very immortality is difficult to believe."

"Perhaps that is the test in itself," Galadriel mused, touching the crude drawing reverently. "The vial was surely lost, as Amroth was. To have it found, empty or not, is remarkable, and to have it returned is something the Haradrim undoubtedly know we would want."

"And they will expect heavy payment as well," Celeborn agreed dryly. "The danger is too great. I do not like it."

Galadriel lifted her gaze to Celeborn's, her sapphire eyes gleaming exultantly. A sure sign she had already made up her mind, he thought despairingly, with little chance for him to argue otherwise. His wife was like a river, unstoppable, uncontrollable when she set her mind to something. He had little choice but to give in. He still did not like it, nor did he like the idea of sending any of his elves into what could very well be their death warrant.

The relationship between the elves and Haradrim was simple - sheer animosity. The Haradrim walked the path of darkness; thieves, murderers, they kidnapped anyone weaker, selling them in slave markets across the eastern lands of Arda with impunity. With Mordor bordering their lands, they had drifted to Sauron's call more often than the light.

Sending an elf, or even a dozen, into their lands was a folly he feared his wife was determinedly set upon. Retrieving the ancient elvish vial was something he desired, but the risks were just too high. "It is merely a ploy to lure us to Harad; it is not worth the lives of any of our people. Relic or not, Galadriel, we must consider the dangers."

Galadriel touched the letter gently. "I know the dangers, Celeborn, but how can we ignore this? Can we turn away when it might have the very essence of one of our greatest leaders? Dare we leave the vial to languish in their hands, or worse, be turned over to Sauron?"

Celeborn rubbed his brow, her thoughts running rampant through his mind, countering his arguments in a voiceless insistence that he knew would eventually wear down his objections. But who to send?

He knew the answer before her thoughts flashed into his mind.

He met the determined sapphire gaze, so ancient and wise, a stubborn reflection of himself. Had he any right to disagree? The vial was a treasure. It belonged with the elves, and once retrieved sent to Valinor as soon as possible for safekeeping. Could he truly let the chance go of recovering something so vitally significant to their history?

He could not and knew it, just as Galadriel had known he would eventually agree with her.

He sighed, dropping his gaze to the letter, the crude drawing of a vial that had once rested against Amroth's chest. How they found it was not clear, but the drawing was too concise in some aspects for them not to have it in their possession.

"There is only one I would trust, but the danger for him is extremely high," Celeborn said with a touch of despair.

"We will give him the opportunity to refuse," Galadriel responded stubbornly.

"Which he will ignore knowing he would not be asked if it were not important. His life is ours to take if we were so inclined, his loyalty unquestionable."

"Haldir is not an easy mark," Galadriel said softly suddenly, laying a hand on Celeborn's arm. "He is uncannily perceptive, and even were he to be captured as you fear, I have no doubt he would escape. We must trust him to know what to do."

Celeborn sighed, resting his hand over hers. "I will ask him."

Galadriel smiled and then reached up to kiss Celeborn's cheek. "You have trained him well, my love."

Celeborn brushed his lips over Galadriel's forehead. "Indeed. I will seek him out."

"And if he chooses his brothers as additional wardens to accompany him?" Galadriel said quietly, halting his steps.

Celeborn leaned his forehead against the cool frame of the door, his heart clenched painfully with the same concern he felt coming from his bondmate. He turned and looked back at her. "It will not be allowed," he said firmly. "We cannot risk losing all three of them."

Galadriel nodded in silent agreement. She watched him as he hurried down the stair. He sensed her thoughts drifting back to the vial and the treasure it contained; she knew that retrieving it was the right thing to do. She only hoped that the cost would not become too high.

xxx

Haldir of Lórien watched the sun set behind the branches of the Mallorn that cradled his talan, the large branches of the tree interwoven so intricately with the elvish woodcraft the two were hardly indistinguishable. The elf-made workings matched that of the tree, the grey tones of the bark and wood of the same origin, twining together to create walls and roof, open yet closed, a masterpiece of craftsmanship that he, as he often did, marveled at with pride. Of course the elves had had long years in which to perfect their craft, but of all the elven clans of Arda, only a few actually made their homes amid the branches of the trees. The grey elves, Sindar, had lived here in the valley of Lórien nearly since time began.

Haldir would have no other, his home, his heart, lay deep within the comforting coolness of the Golden Wood.

The sun dipped beneath the branches, nearly blinding in its intensity, a golden ball of flame that tipped the leaves over his head gold. In moments, it was gone leaving the wood dim, softly grey, as dusk descended.

The mist would rise soon to drift among the tree roots far below. He loved the night among the trees here in the heart of Lothlórien. He loved the shadowy depths, the sparkling iridescent glitter of the fireflies as they whispered among the branches, the welcoming gleam of the lamps hanging amid the leaves.

He would give life or limb to defend her. March Warden, leader of the Galadhrim, he held that rank with pride and stubborn determination. His life was to defend the Lady of the Wood, or do her bidding as the case might be.

One of the few Sindar that spoke most of the languages of Arda, he had traveled extensively as Galadriel's emissary. His defensive abilities, however, honed over several millennium, he had learned from Lord Celeborn.

Both were mentors, one mental, the other physical, and he loved them nearly as much as he had loved his parents, gone now for an age to Aman, leaving him in charge of his two brothers. Scamps, wardens in their own rights, they followed him wherever he went.

He would have it no other way, proud yet protective of them. Perhaps some day they might even outrank him, or displace his position as March Warden, but that day would not be anytime soon.

He sensed the figure coming toward him had much on his mind, filling him with a faint sense of unease. To find the Lord of Lórien so preoccupied with his thoughts did not bode well for the mission Celeborn was about to offer.

Haldir would accept it, however. If they needed him, he would do whatever they asked.

Celeborn paused beside Haldir with a rueful lift of his brow. "You have already decided and I have yet to speak of the journey I wish you to take."

"You have no need to ask, my lord," Haldir said with a hand to his brow in greeting.

"You offer without even the slightest hesitation, yet where I send you will put you in the greatest of dangers. Mordor would be less dangerous, Haldir," Celeborn replied with a slight reproof in his tone.

Intrigued, Haldir lifted a brow and waved Celeborn to join him on a bench a few feet away. "And why put me in such danger?" he said evenly. "If it is that serious then the reason is very important. I still will agree."

Celeborn sat next to him, adjusting his heavy robe around his knees. "I told Galadriel much the same, yet I have deep reservations that this should be done. You know how she is when she sets her mind to something." Celeborn sighed, staring up into the trees, but with a tiny smile curving his lips.

"She usually is just as perceptive as you are. Has she questioned her mirror?"

"Not yet. I fear truly what we might see, Haldir," Celeborn lowered his gaze and then his blue eyes turned toward Haldir. They were dark, concerned, yet held a strength Haldir had long strove to match.

"What would you have me do?"

"There is a very important treasure being held by the Haradrim that we would like back," Celeborn replied, meeting Haldir's gaze intently.

Haldir sat up slowly. "The Haradrim trade far and wide. What is it?"

Celeborn pulled a tattered piece of parchment from his sleeve. "When Galadriel and I first began to stay in Lórien, it was ruled by Amroth, a very dear friend. A tragedy when he was lost."

Haldir nodded in agreement; Amroth had been highly respected. Haldir had been quite young when the elven lord had left Lórien's borders, looking for his lost lover. Amroth had never been seen again. "This item belonged to Amroth?"

Celeborn handed the paper to Haldir. "This is the vial he wore, which held his very soul. How they came to have it is unclear, but it is unmistakable that it is indeed Amroth's. The markings and design are his; I watched him make it."

Haldir touched the paper gently, tracing the outlines of the glass, crudely done, but still holding the intrinsic elegance of anything elven made. "You want me to buy it back?"

"For an exorbitant price I am quite sure," Celeborn agreed dryly.

Haldir smiled wryly. "But the danger is mine; you believe this to be a trap."

Celeborn let go of a deep sigh. "Yes. Harad's pension for slaves is well known. To capture any elves would be a coup for them. We are not on friendly terms, have not been for a very long time. Although this man, Arad, claims to offer us protection and free passage, it still does not sit well with me. It is far too dangerous; yet, to leave the vial in the hands of the Haradrim is unthinkable."

"How many do you want me to bring with me?" Haldir asked with a frown.

Celeborn closed his eyes for a moment. "Not more than three is what Arad has agreed to. Any more than that and he would feel threatened, and to me, three is simply not enough, but I must concede, at the moment, he has the upper hand. But you cannot bring your brothers."

Haldir nodded, understanding immediately. "Three would be less noticeable, traveling so near Mordor. I will put Orophin in my place on the fences; Rumil is scheduled to leave for the western border in a few days. But they will not be happy to be left behind."

"I realize that, but we are adamant," Celeborn said firmly.

Haldir nodded again. "The danger, as you say, is too high. I will ask Tinion and Kelian. Both are extremely able and we have traveled much together."

Celeborn rose, holding out his hand. Haldir took it firmly, rising to his feet, hands clasped to stare deep into the elven lord's eyes. "I will return, Celeborn."

"Then I will let you go, but be wary, my friend. I cannot say that your danger has never been greater."

xx

Orophin leaped up the long flight of steps with some trepidation, as well as curiosity as to the summons his brother had sent, commanded in a tone that brooked no delay. Although under Haldir's command, it was unusual for his brother to call for him in such a way. It meant two things, either Rumil had gotten himself into trouble once again, or something serious had come up.

He wondered which it was, arriving on the walkway leading to the March Warden's talan. He didn't even have a chance to knock, hand raised to do so, when the door opened and Haldir pulled him inside.

"Has Rumil fallen out of a tree?" Orophin asked jokingly, and then frowned as Haldir turned away to pace in the center of the room. Orophin had always liked Haldir's talan, if only because it had once been their parent's home. The rooms were not much different than they had been; a few additions here and there that spoke of Haldir's personality, a few sculptures, a large potted plant of flowers he knew his brother liked immensely, tended lovingly as a reminder of their mother, as well a large shelf of books and treasures brought home from his brother's many journeys.

"No, Orophin, I have not had word from Rumil," Haldir replied absently.

"So why the imperious demand that I see you?" Orophin hoped the teasing tone would lift the frown creasing his brother's brow.

Haldir lifted one of those brows and then did indeed smile. "I knew it would bring you quickly. Sit down. Would you like some wine?"

Orophin sat, but waved away the wine. "So what is so serious that you feel you have to bribe me, as well as send me running in fear?"

Haldir sat in a chair across from Orophin, stretching out his legs before him, but Orophin knew the pose was not truly relaxed. "I have to leave Lórien for a short while."

"Oh, is that all? When do we leave?" Orophin replied with relief.

"I am leaving tomorrow morning; you are leaving to replace me on my watch on the eastern border. Rumil will be leaving for the western border as well."

Orophin sat forward, staring hard at his brother. "Replace you? Tinion can do that just as well as I, since I am going with you. Rumil will be furious to be left behind, but he will get over it."

"I am leaving you both behind. You are not going," Haldir declared firmly. "It is too dangerous for you to come with me."

Orophin jaw clicked when he clamped his mouth shut. The words to argue were futile; he could see Haldir was not going to change his mind. "And where is Galadriel sending you that is so dangerous?" he asked mildly.

"I have to go to Harad."

Orophin sprang to his feet with a growl. "You will not go there without me! Damn it, Haldir, they take slaves!"

"I know, and it is why you are not going," Haldir replied, standing up to face Orophin. "I would not have Lórien lose all three of us. The chance is too great. I am taking Tinion and Kelian, both are very able and as experienced as both you and Rumil. Besides," Haldir added with a faint smile. "They both speak common far better than you do."

"I do not like it."

"I know, but the decision is made."

Orophin ran a hand through his hair, turning to watch Haldir pace again. "Why go to Harad?"

"They have an artifact of ours that they want to sell."

"Sounds like a trap to me," Orophin snorted.

"An obvious one that they would be stupid to think we would not see. There is a trap there, if not the direct one of luring us to them. I will be wary, do not worry."

"You are always wary, Haldir," Orophin scoffed, folding his arms over his chest. "But this is different. Do they expect you to walk right into Harad without being accosted?"

"They have given us a letter of protection. I can only trust that the Haradrim will honor it. We have no choice, Ori, the vial must be recovered."

Orophin sighed and then moved to rest his arms on Haldir's shoulders, looking deep into his brother's gaze. "You will be careful? I will come for you if you are taken."

Haldir clasped the arms resting on his shoulders tightly for a moment. "I will return, trust me."

"I do, Haldir. But I still do not have to like it."

xx

Haldir shook his head tersely at Rumil as he tightened the last of the straps that held his pack secured to the back of his mount. "We have discussed this already, Rumil," he said quietly.

In truth, the three of them had argued heatedly over it for half the night. Rumil had arrived shortly after Orophin. The younger warden had been uncharacteristically argumentative, blatantly pressing his displeasure over Haldir's mission. Both of them had stressed their dislike at his firm refusal to let them accompany him.

"Not to my satisfaction," snapped Rumil.

Orophin watched as Haldir gave the straps on his pack a final tug. He reached for his sword and bow, but turned instead toward the younger elf, resting a hand on his shoulder. Rumil was struggling to keep hold of his emotions. Anger over not being allowed to escort him, combined with his concern, darkened the elf's blue eyes. Rumil's frame was as rigid and unyielding as Haldir's as he reluctantly handed his brother his weapons.

Orophin stood nearby, caught in his own emotions as they swirled about him; fear, anxiety, anger, and admiration all ran rampant inside him as Haldir deftly tied his bow to the back of the horse.

He glanced discretely at the two chosen wardens that waited nearby, unable to stop the flow of bitterness he felt towards them for being the chosen ones. Haldir should have selected Rumil and himself as escorts. Resentment surged inside him, while outwardly he remained calm and accepting. He would follow Haldir's orders faithfully, blindly trusting in the wisdom that guided his brother.

He glanced over at Rumil, noting that his younger brother had not quite reached the same level of acceptance. He moved closer to him in an attempt to ease the tension that radiated between Haldir and Rumil. He reached out to grasp Rumil on the shoulder, giving him a reassuring squeeze that all would be well.

Orophin sighed as Rumil shrugged off his hand and stepped closer to Haldir. His blue eyes caught and held Haldir's grey ones, "Please Haldir. . ." his voice barely a whisper through the stillness of the forest.

Haldir sighed. Orophin knew Haldir felt their frustration. He also knew Haldir might have given in and allowed Rumil and Orophin to come along on the quest, if not for the fact that it was Celeborn's decision. No amount of negotiating would sway it. The Lord and Lady would not risk losing three wardens from the same family. Haldir had his orders and he would not question them. He had stood firm, staunchly refusing to give into the pair no matter how well justified they presented their cause to go along with him.

His grey eyes met with Rumil's regretfully, "I am sorry, Rumil."

Rumil stiffened and turned away.

Orophin rubbed a hand over his brow with a frown, watching Rumil stalk off towards the city. It was not easy to be the one charged with giving out directives and making sure that they were followed through. It was not easy now for his brother. He could see it in the slight drop of Haldir's chin. The three were close as anyone could be, and leaving one of them behind, let alone two, was difficult.

Rumil idolized Haldir, working tirelessly at his side to fight and defend not only Lórien, but also the brother that had helped to raise him. It was no wonder the younger Elf was struggling to accept the commands he had thrust upon him.

"Rumil," Haldir called out softly, nearly a plea for him to understand.

His brother turned back briefly and touched his hand over his heart in a form of goodbye, then faded from sight. There was nothing more to be said nothing more to argue over; a long drawn out goodbye would only stretch his nerves closer to the breaking point.

Orophin moved closer to Haldir. "Do not worry about Rumil. He will be fine."

Haldir nodded tersely. "I must speak with Celeborn before I leave." He handed Orophin the reins to his horse, and then turned on his heel to follow Rumil back into the city.

Orophin sighed. It was not a good way to have them part.

xx

Tinion crouched on his heels, absently checking his small pack for the third time, his gaze on the tall elf standing over him, blue eyes cold as he stared down at him. Tinion stood up, reaching out to clasp Orophin's shoulder in a tight grip. "I will take care of him, Ori, have no fear!"

Orophin sent a resigned glance toward Haldir where he was speaking with Kelian, a tall sandy-haired elf with a mischievous smile and intent gray eyes. "Take care that you do, Tinion. I should be going and not you."

"Ah, give another Elf a chance to traverse the wilds with your brother for once," Tinion replied easily. "We can watch his back nearly as well as you can."

Orophin frowned, his gaze worried. "I know, Tinion. It is not an easy task, however, to remain here with the danger you will face. It is very frustrating."

Tinion understood, and sympathized fully. "We will retrieve this vial and be back in a month's time."

Orophin pulled his gaze from Haldir to stare at Tinion intently. "I will pray to the Valar for your safety, Tinion, as well as Kelian's. Go safely."

"We will. I have Haldir watching my back, what could go wrong?" Tinion laughed, squeezing Orophin's shoulder before letting go.

Tinion joined Haldir and Kelian, mounting his horse to follow the two toward the tall gate guarding the entrance to Caras Galadhon. He turned briefly to look over his shoulder. Above him, the Lady watched them intently, standing beside Celeborn who still did not look satisfied with the whole affair. With one last look and wave at a frowning Orophin, Tinion rode outside the protective barrier around his home, heading deep into the Golden Wood.