Fo.A 19, No 25th

Ninel shivered as the cruel winter wind blast their camp, and she instinctively held Lendir closer to her, trying to block him from the bitter chill.

Legolas had hoped to be back in Annúminas four days ago, but weather, two new additions, and the remains of those who had died slowed them down. She had finally convinced him to burn the bodies and salvage the bones to avoid disease spreading. It had been as if the thought had not occurred to him, and Ninel had wondered if he was still reeling from finding out her father was Údar.

Today, though, she was just worried about making it to Fornost before the snow picked up again as it had the past two days. While not an ideal place to stay, partly due to the construction and partially due to all the "accidents", she wished they'd been able to push harder to avoid the place altogether.

Ninel looked down at little Lendir as he slept, blissfully unaware of any of the troubles that plagued his mother's mind. She smiled, as she always did when she looked at him. What would he be like when he grew up? Would he be brave like his father? Stubborn like her?

It struck Ninel that she didn't know what traits might be passed down from her father, and she prayed that nothing from her mother would surface. She couldn't handle that.

Ninel looked up at the sound of footsteps and saw Aharron approaching, a sour look on his face. "What is it, Aharron?" Ninel asked before he'd got the chance the speak.

"My lady, the prisoner...he's requested an audience with you," he replied, clearly uncomfortable with the thought.

Ninel cocked her head, eyes narrowing. "Why would he want that?"

"He says he..." he paused, looking around. "He says he has something of your fathers," he whispered.

"What!?" Ninel burst, waking Lendir.

It took several minutes before she was able to calm him back down, and once settled, she looked at Aharron. "What did he tell you?"

Aharron fiddled with the dagger in his belt. "He wouldn't say, just that you would find it very interesting," he said.

"And he wants to meet with me to give it to me in turn for something I assume?"

Aharron shrugged. "He's a devious one, and there is a darkness that clings to him. I do not know his mind well enough to speak as to what he will ask for, though, I suspect that it will cost you."

"Then what do you recommend?" Ninel asked.

"Don't do it," Aharron replied quickly. He added, "I understand that you are looking for your father, my lady, but making a bargain with one such as he cannot bring about much good."

Ninel trusted the man, and she knew he spoke wisdom concerning the elf, but...

"Let us wait until Fornost before we make a decision one way or the other," Ninel said at last. "I would also speak with my husband before-"

"He said it must be today, my lady," Aharron interrupted.

Ninel's temper flared. "Who does he think he is to make demands of me in such a way?"

"He speaks very highly of himself, continually boasting of his accomplishments if you can call them that. He says he killed the Blue Wizards if you can believe it."

Ninel barked a laugh. "He thinks much of himself to claim such ridiculous things. You may tell him that I will not meet with him and that he will rot in a cell until the ending of the world once we reach Annúminas."

Aharron bowed. "At once, my lady."

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As the sun set on that day, Amarth watched as the group dispaired, grumbling against their captains for dragging them out into the unforgiving winter, and he smiled. Men, so quick to turn on one another. It was small wonder as to why Dothriel or Nalwen or Thuringwethil, or whoever she was had changed the hearts of men.

Amarth's guards tied him to a boulder and left to warm themselves in front of the fire, however meager it may be. He found it insulting that they should think him so weak as to be unable to break his bonds. It didn't take more than a couple tries to understand why his captures were so comfortable: it was elvish rope.

He muttered a curse and decided to throw in a few more expletives for good measure.

"Such language from one of the elves, I am surprised."

Amarth quickly hid his smile as Ninel stepped around into the light of the moon, hood up and sword at her side. "I'm not one for flowery words," he replied.

"So it would seem," Ninel said, studying him. "And yet, you should use more polite terms when addressing a lady."

Amarth could no longer hide his smile. "Your mother said the same thing to me once. Like mother like daughter, I suppose."

Anger flashed in Ninel's eyes and in a blur her dagger was on his throat. "Speak of my mother and I in the same sentence, and I will kill you right here, understood?"

Amarth gave a small nod, wondering if he had overestimated how alike they might be. "I have something that I think you will find very interesting," Amarth said, trying to regain the upper hand.

"So I've been told. I've also been told that you tell tall tales."

Amarth grinned. "Did he tell you about the wizards? Because that was truly a-"

"I'm not interested in your stories," Ninel snapped. She was beginning to grow impatient.

"Well, you really should hear about that one, because if anything, it was my best work."

Ninel took a step forward, holding the knife-point under his chin. "Do you have something for me or not?"

Amarth decided not to push her any more than he already had. "Your father was a prisoner in Carn Dûm for a very long time," he said. "Once, he was chained up in the same place you found me."

He could see his words had hit their mark, and he continued. "After we broke him, we moved him to the dungeons and brought him his journal, and I must say, it is quite the read."

Ninel pressed the tip harder against his jaw, her hands trembling. "Where is it?"

Amarth grinned. "I want something from you first."

"Damn you!" Ninel stormed, pacing back and forth before him.

He had her. Now all he needed to do was finish it. "He wrote about you; pretty often in fact."

Ninel stopped and looked at him, and he could see the hopeful hunger in her eyes. Oh yes, she wanted to know what her precious father thought of her. "It was really quite touching."

Ninel slashed at his arm, drawing blood, a wild look in her eyes. Too far.

"What do you want from me?" Ninel growled, wiping the blood off the dagger.

Amarth leaned his head forward, his voice low. "I want my freedom."

Ninel stiffened. "What?

"You heard me," Amarth said, leaning back. "In exchange for the journal I want my freedom. It's rather simple."

Ninel began to pace again, and they both knew that she was caught in the net. Amarth waited patiently, knowing that all he had to do was wait, while the idea of what could be in the journal wormed its way into her thoughts. He closed his eyes and relaxed.

"What promise to I have that you will not kill us all in our sleep?"

Amarth chuckled. "You don't."

Ninel flexed her open hand, and the other gripped the dagger in the other with white knuckles. There was something almost feral about her, and if she hadn't been the spawn of Údar, Amarth would have considered it mildly attractive.

"So, what is your answer?" he asked, trying and failing not to look smug.

Ninel dropped her gaze to the ground, taking a deep breath. "No."

"Excellent—wait, what?" Amarth stuttered, thinking he'd misheard.

Ninel looked up at him, eyes hard. "My answer is no," she said again.

Amarth's jaw dropped. "It's your father's journal!" he sputtered in confusion. "Why would you not want it?"

"I have no guarantee that you have it," Ninel replied, sheathing her dagger. "I'm not willing to take that risk based solely on your word alone." She turned to leave.

"Wait!"

She stopped, looking over her shoulder. Amarth grimaced as he said, "The journal is strapped to my leg, see for yourself that I am telling the truth."

"No tricks?"

"No tricks."

Ninel approached him, kneeling in the snow. "Which one?"

"Right," Amarth answered.

Ninel lifted the breeches and found a small leather bound book strapped to the elf's leg. She untied the cord and opened it up, seeing words but only able to understand one or two at best. She looked at Amarth. "What is this? It's gibberish!"

"Not all of it," Amarth replied. "Now, about my freedom."

Ninel held up the book and smiled. "What about it?"

Amarth suddenly realized he'd been played. All the while he thought he was working her, she had been working him. "You lying little-"

"You underestimated me, Amarth, something I am sure you will not do again." She eyed him hard, the smile fading. "Nor will I make that same mistake with you." She leaned in closer. "Once a slave, always a slave, Amarth."

Her words caused his blood to boil, and he strained against the ropes, praying they would snap and he could strangle her with his bare hands.

Ninel drew her dagger again and placed it on his chest. He leaned back against the stone; so she was going to do it. "Go ahead," he said, voice defiant. "Kill me."

"I'm going to tell you what I am going to do, Amarth, and I will say it only once, so heed my words carefully. I'm going to cut your bonds, thus saving your miserable life, which means you owe me."

Amarth narrowed his eyes. "I don't owe anything to anyone."

"You will owe me," Ninel corrected him. "And when the time comes, I will call upon the debt you owe me, and you will deliver on it. When I cut these bonds, I'm going to scream, and you're going to make a run for it. Is that understood?" She pressed on the dagger slightly.

Amarth ground his teeth, nodding. "Understood."

Ninel smiled. "Good. Now run."

As she said it, she cut the bonds around his wrists, and she screamed. Amarth threw a punch, hitting her square in the jaw with such force that it sent her spinning before taking off into the darkness.

Snow began falling as he made his escape, and the voices of his pursuers faded behind him. Amarth hoped that they didn't want to risk trying to find him in the darkness and snow, as that would make his escape much more manageable.

After several hours of running through the blinding snow, Amarth stopped to catch his breath and get his bearings. All was white before him except for a large cliff face, which he assumed must be one of the downs.

Hunkering down next to it provided some shelter from the wind and snow, but his rage was all he needed for warmth now, and he would make sure she paid for this humiliation.

They would all pay in the end.

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MWAH HAHAHAHAHHAHHAHAHAHAAHHAAHAHAH

I freaken love writing Amarth. I'm so thankful I have been allowed to borrow him for this series!

Also, Ninel isn't some gullible girl to be taken advantage of ;] hehe

So what did you guys think? Was Amarth telling the truth about Údar's journal? What do you think about Amarth now owing a debt to Ninel?

Comment below and let me know! :D