I was also tasked in finding and eliminating any threats to you.

          In this, I have failed.

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L U M O R N E L

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     I winced, and if my body was a bowstring, I'd surely snap with tension. I held my breath, barely seeing the wooden doorknob in front of me as I listened so hard my ears hurt. Silence became deafening, the beating of my heart a drum everyone in town could hear.

          "That wanker is asking too much, ya know?" I heard the flutter of a card being laid down. The man's voice startled me, almost making me jump.

    Through the door crack, the other man—the one with his back to me—lifted his gaze away from his hand to shoot his companion a look. "You'd do best to keep your mouth shut concerning him. He's a... He's got those ears of his everywhere. Just before you joined, our best scavenger disappeared after he muttered something unpleasant about the lord."

    His companion turned his head, craning to see around the room, his big nose shining in the firelight. "I don't see no other person in here. The lady is upstairs and she ain't gonna snitch, neither is you."

    The man with his back to me shrugged. I got the instinctive feeling that that might be just what he'll do.

    Big Nose continued talking. "He's got his head in the clouds. Ain't no way we can find that mirror he wants in all of Middle-Earth. Especially when almost ev'ry household owns one.  I'd bet a months' wages on it."

    Again back-man shrugged. "He's got us men all over the continent, I heard he's even got some in Harad. Sooner or later a man will have found the mirror he's lookin' for."

    "I've heard he's got a beaut of a girl hangin' on his arm. Some say he has her wait on his every need, they're inseparable."

    Back-man snorted, picking up a card and organizing his hand further.

    "It's true!"

    "As true as my hand being a king's court."

    Big Nose paused, scanning Back Man's face. Then, he nodded to himself, deciding most definitely that Back Man did not have a hand of cards better than him.

    After a few moments filled with the sound of my roaring heart and the thwap of cards being played, Back Man spoke.

    The muscles of his nape flexed as he focused his gaze on his companion.

    "When're you scheduled to return to base camp?"

    "I'll be leaving in a day's time."

    Back Man sighed, laying down a set of cards, gathering a few dried beans, and discarded a card. "No, Gen, when are you to be there."

    Big Nose—Gen shrugged, picking up a card and looking sorely disappointed.  "In a fortnight and a week. I figure leavin' t'morrow will get me there in time."

    Back Man grunted a response, reaching down to scratch his ankle, lifting up his pant leg—but...

    He was reaching for a dagger.

    "That bow," Back Man nodded towards it, "will fetch a hefty sum, eh?"

    Absentmindedly, Gen nodded while assessing his cards. "I'd wager. And imagine the fame. Me—found Legolas Thranduilion's bow!" Gen laughed. "I'd like to see his face when he hears one of us scavengers found it!"

    I sucked in a breath, stumbling back in shock—right into overly-stocked shelves  Heavy cans clattered to the floor, booming as they hit. A few even broke open, spilling wet contents across the shadowed wood floor.

    The conversation in the kitchen came to a halt.

    "Nerron, what—"Gen cut off.

    The air in my lungs halted, a beat later my blood roared in my ears, an ocean of panic washing over me, rendering me completely and utterly paralyzed.

    All thoughts came to a tumbling stop—my eyes only locked on the sliver of light from the cracked door.

    Valar! I'm going to get caught! ValarValarValar—!

    The door slammed opened.

     Nerron's hulking form loomed, all but a silhouette as the firelight shone from behind. In the dim lighting, I could barely make out the apprehension on his face; he held the dagger he intended to use on Gen aloft.

     My muscles took initiative before my brain. Rushing forward with my torso bent, I tackled Nerron—or at least attempted too. He was a fortress, an unshakable wall. I nearly bounced off. Instead, I pushed past him further into the kitchen. Gen cried out in surprise.

     Adrenaline ran all the way to my fingertips, buzzing along my weakened body. I felt the surrounding energy crashing into the hollow storage in me, unable to manifest inside me. Nausea swelled, but I reached to my thigh for a knife.

     Nerron saw the action. "Hey—!"

     I flew, racing to the man to attack—but despite his large size, he evaded me quickly. Yet, I was quicker, even though my legs felt near collapse.

    A shadow danced in the edge of my vision—Gen. I pivoted on a foot, swing around towards the man. Acting on an instinct I didn't know I had, I took hold of his shoulder and arm and swung him for Nerron.

    Gen collided with him, hitting hard on impact. Both men yelped, tripping over each other, and fell to the ground. On the way down, Nerron's head thunked against the kitchen counter, the sound loud and dull, like a rock being thrown down heavily. His body fell more limply and harder than Gen's, his head bouncing on the floor.

    Gen cursed, his own dagger skidding across the floor, just out of his fallen reach. His thin shirt exposed the muscles of his abdomen as they flexed, him struggling to untangle himself from his companion and the floor. He reached for his weapon—

    I kicked the blade away, reaching for Gen as I heard it hit the far wall. He grunted with the effort of getting up—and I kicked him off Nerron so he could.

    Before he could get his ground, I rushed him and pressed him against a wall.

    I held my knife to his throat.

    I breathed heavy, my chest rising up and down like a branch in the wind. The presence of Legolas' bow burned into my back, the knowledge that this man knew who and where Legolas was searing into my mind.

    "Where is Legolas," I demanded, pressing my forearm harder against his chest but easing up on the knife so he could speak.

    Gen's eyes were wide, never leaving me as he gulped. "I—I won't tell you—!"

    I decided to let the blade bite his neck a little. Blood welled darkly and began to make its way for the hollow of his neck. My need for my memories was enough to hide my wince.

    "The Western Hope! He's with the Western Hope!!" Gen nearly wept with terror.

    I swallowed. I'd heard of the Western Hope. It was a nearly mythical group. Rumors said its ranks were the last of a great battle, the battle that had taken place on that desolated land before the gates to Mordor. It was said they were now more than ever determined to rid Middle-Earth of the enemy. I'd also heard it was full of men, women, and elves, all of them starving and huddled together in some secret, dirty place, all hoping to escape the doomed world.

    "Where is it?" I asked, never letting up on my hold. "Where is your base?"

    The man hesitated, light eyes glancing towards the bow, then to Nerron—I jostled him.

    "I don't know exactly!"

    I gritted my teeth. "But where is it? You must know partly where it is."

    Gen pushed against me, wriggling to get free. He stomped on my foot—making me cry out—and pushed my arm away, keeping his neck well away from my knife. He escaped—just barely.

    I held my foot out, causing him to trip, and used that moment to slam his frame against the wooden wall once more. Then, I brought my knee up right into his groin. He grunted and despite a blush warming my face, I held the knife to his throat again, my heart beating way too fast to be healthy. Nerron is going to wake up, the lady upstairs will hear.

    "Where?"

    Gen breathed in shakily, eyes darting about for hope, but I let my dagger slip against his throat again. I wanted to vomit from such torture, but I held my ground. The scars covering me underneath my clothing, the ones I had no idea where they had come from, tingled.

    "Where?"

    "In the mountains," he ground out and at further taunting from my knife he relented. "Somewhere between the Ciril and the Firien Wood! I don't know no more!"

    "You must know more!" I was a hair's breadth away from fainting. I was so close, so close to finding Legolas, too stopping my memory loss.

    Gen opened his mouth, but his blue eyes caught on something behind me. In the glassy reflection of his sea irises, there was a figure.

    I whipped around, sending Gen tumbling to the ground in a flurry of curses with a twist of my foot—

    And I froze.

    No mere lady stood in front of me. Instead, an elleth did.

    Brown waves cascaded down her shoulders, olive skin radiant in the firelight, as if her skin thrived for the heat. A bulky sword hung from her waist, the scabbard worn and brown and the hilt plain and ordinary. She wore common men's clothing; brown animal hide trousers and a grey blouse that was fraying at the edges, with a rope belt around her waist. Only once have I seen an elf... or was it more? I couldn't remember. But never have I seen one with such depthless eyes. Ageless time swirled in those irises, her brown eyes murky with secrets and memories.

    Those eyes widened, the elleth's only sign of shock.

    I didn't have time to ponder over the display of emotion, nor did I have time to stand around.

    My knife felt like a sudden weight in my hand, clammy and hot in my palm.

    I swung the hilt for the elleth's temple, but her hand shot out quicker than my dizzy mind could comprehend. Instead of easily taking hold of me and incapacitating me, she disarmed me, taking my knife in her hand.

    Pain shot through my arm from where her hand had collided as if her skin and bones were made of stone. Though my arm throbbed, my wide eyes only saw my weapon in her hand, her deep and mysterious eyes assessing me, a crease between her brown brows. She stared at me and I got lost in those eyes that seemed to see through my exterior. All seemed to freeze, if only for a moment.

    "Child, how—"

    Gen grunted from the ground, shifting ever slightly. It was enough to wake us both from our reverie. My knife was lost to her, I wouldn't risk getting it back—so I darted to the kitchen table and retrieved Legolas's bow.

    Its fine engravings felt comfortably familiar beneath my fingers, the crevasses caressing my skin. I knew that if I was to inspect the dark wood where the bow met the string, I'd find tengwar letters sketched into the masterpiece. Legolas Thranduilion.

    My boots rubbed the floor as I twisted, finding the elleth still standing where she had been seconds ago, Gen struggling to sit up near her feet.

    Time to go.   

    The path to the front door was behind the elleth—

    But the back door was behind me.

    I nearly fell over the table, almost sent the cards flying, in my escapade out. The elleth's ancient voice rose behind me, but the rushing in my ears covered her words in my panic and desperate need.

    My feet hit the soil outside, yet I kept running, not bothering closing the door. Wet soil sloshed under foot, autumn wind whipping past as a cloud passed before the moon. Decaying leaves thrashed about, my own breath roaring. There was no other sound—no other person—

    Nobody following.

    At least not noticeably.

    My throat turned raw, the cool air not soothing it. The need to put as much distance between me and that house the only thing keeping my wobbly legs pumping.

    Finally, once across the small, small town, I caught sight of an inn. I ran a block passed it, then returned to a normal pace. Doubling back, I approached the dark inn, focusing on catching my breath and looking as normal as I could. Only a few windows had yellow light filtering through, most were dark and silent. Luckily, no guard stood outside.

    How stupid of them.

    Before walking up to the inn, I almost paused. This was an obvious place to hide. But perhaps the elleth and those men wouldn't think to look here for that very reason—

    My stomach turned ravenous, my hunger overpowering my reasoning. My fatigue penetrating most thoughts, extending to my limbs.

    Only a bite. Only a bite of bread and a sip of water. Or ale. Then, then I could rest. Oh, how good a bed sounded. To just sink into a mattress, no matter how uncomfortable. I was tired of straw and rocky ground. I wanted a bed, a pillow...

    I opened the inn door.

    Despite the possible immediate threat, I accepted the stew the innkeeper had 'offered' me, ate only a few spoonfuls, and slept deep. I didn't wake once.

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Whelp. No cliff hanger this time.

I was bad and barely wrote anything this week.
I blame other fanfictions.