Note: Since chapter 12 is so short, I'm posting chapter 13 too to ward off angry readers. LOL!!

Round Robin
Chapter 13
By Meril

Author's Note: Thanks to Wanda for starting the story and everyone else who has written. The story is great and there are so many wonderful ideas and writers here. I've had fun adding my bit. Enjoy!

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The lady bandit glared menacingly down at her prisoners; they had caused more trouble than two slaves ever should. Once they were healed, she would see they received a punishment they would never forget; for now, she just had to get them to the ships headed for Umbar. Once aboard, she would deal with them properly.

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The tall, slender, dark-haired elf walked as though in a trance. His mission was clear: kill the human headed for Umbar in the care of the slavers. If any tried to get in his way--the slavers, the blonde elf (especially the blond elf)--anyone--he would kill them. The dark lady had commanded him; and he felt compelled to obey. He would bring her the proof of his success that she desired--the head of the human. She would be pleased. The smell of her--the scent of overripe fruit--swirled around him. It was always there, always a reminder.

An odd feeling was concentrated at the back of his skull, as though someone were trying to break out. It seemed to be saying the fair lady could not be trusted. As he began to question the sensation, her scent once more overrode his senses, and he forgot all but his mission.

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Elladan rode silently beside his father, his face etched with grave concern. The news his father shared was not good.

"Moririme was once an elf like the rest of us, but she gave her soul to Morgoth in order to increase her power. We met in the first age. We both tried to turn the other; she wanted me to join her in darkness, and I tried to redeem her back to light. Again, in the second age we fought. In a fit of anger, she let her carefully constructed guard down, and I thought I had killed her. But obviously, and unfortunately, I was wrong. She will be waiting for me at Angband."

Elrond noticed his son shiver at the name. "We must go there if we wish to see your brother again and hope to rescue the others. I will confront her alone. You stay hidden nearby. I may need you to help later."

They continued their desperate ride in tense silence.

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The two elves reached the cold and desolate place. They could sense the evil that still lingered in the air, despite the fortress's destruction.

"She is near." Elrond paused. The sickeningly sweet smell of overripe fruit permeated the air. Turning to his son, Elrond spoke softly. "Stay hidden now. You will know when the time comes for you to act."

Hiding behind one of the great upturned rocks that were scattered over the plain, Elladan could hear everything that went on around him. From the corner of his eye, he watched his father approach the center of the field.

"Moririme," Elrond challenged. "I know you are here. Reveal yourself and give me back my son."

Suddenly the air filled with a suffocating haze and the bleak sunlight, which had appeared after days of unnatural rainfall, darkened. A lone figure stood opposite Elrond. Her black hair was of an intense ebony, parted to show her delicately pointed elven ears. She was slender, though shorter than an average elf. The black dress that draped her frame revealed every inch of her womanly figure.

The familiar, enticing scent that followed her everywhere exploded around the two opponents. She was beautiful, but utterly evil and deadly. What only Elrond could see--for he had faced her before--was that she did not emit the glow of an elf; instead, she consumed all light around her. She had chosen to serve Morgoth long ago, in exchange for the power he could give her.

"Elrond, is that any way to greet an old friend?" Moririme's voice was like honey and her laughter was like silver bells, but Elrond was not deceived. He knew her; he knew her deceptions.

"Where is my son Elrohir? You told me to claim him from you."

"I am sorry, Peredhil; there was a change in plans." Her voice was no longer seductive. That trick and not worked long ago, and it would not work now. Instead, she spoke with a calm voice which affirmed that she was in control. "You see, your son wasn't as good at resisting me as you are. I found out that you had adopted that weak human brat--and that he was more than just a human, a Dunedain. Of course, your son does have some of your blood in him, and wouldn't tell me any more; but he told me all I needed to know. The human is the heir of Isildur. That is why you are hiding him. I really couldn't have him around ruining my plans."

Elrond resisted the urge to tense, to show any sign of how true the words she was speaking were. If there was any hope for Elrohir, for Estel--for Aragorn--then he must stay strong.

"Well, even if he is not, it doesn't matter, I still want to see him dead." Noting Elrond's seeming indifference, she continued, "Oh, right, your son--the elven one, that is--he is on a mission for me. You see, before I knew of the human's close connection to you, I sent him off with some slavers to Umbar. But once I learned his value, I knew that was too good of a fate for him. I couldn't see to the death of the human myself since I promised to meet you here and not Umbar, so I sent your son in my stead. Hard one to break, but he will suffice.

"And now, let the battle of wills begin." Her malicious laughter seemed to cause the sky to become pitch-black, and intense bolts of lightening echoed her laughter.

Elladan wanted to scream as he heard what this woman wanted to do--what she *was* doing--to his brothers. She would pay; but first, he needed to save Elrohir and Estel. This was what his father had been speaking of. Elrond's battle against Moririme must be fought alone; it would fall to him to rescue his brothers and friend.

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Legolas moaned softly. The ground seemed to rock under his pained body. Disconcerted by this new feeling, he managed to pry his eyes open slightly. Strider lay about a foot from him, bound by the wrists with his arms above his head. Legolas attempted to move his hand, only to discover he was bound in the same fashion. Glancing up, he realized the cause of the swaying motion. They were on a ship.

"Strider," he whispered, hoping his friend was all right. "Sut na lle?"

A soft moan escaped the ranger's lips. Slowly, he opened his eyes. "Legolas," he murmured. "Where are we?"

"A ship, and we are out to sea; but that is all I know. Where are your brothers, or did I just dream they were there?"

"I don't know...."

Before either friend could say anything else, a tall shadow fell across the bound figures. The one who cast it wore a long cloak, and a strip of cloth was bound across his forehead and tied behind his head. His grey eyes, void of life and spirit, looked on the man with contempt.

Despite all this, Strider recognized the figure; hope kindled anew with in him. "Elrohir."

A flicker of almost recognition seemed to cross the elf's eyes, but the hardness quickly returned.

Another shadow fell on the prisoners. An all-too-familiar female voice broke into the quiet moment. "Excuse me, sir," she addressed Elrohir. "My name is Mailik. These men are my merchandise. May I inquire to your interest in them?"

"How much?" The voice was flat and emotionless.

Mailik smiled, she recognized a business opportunity when she saw one. "Well, now, these two are worth quite a bit. Strong ones, for certain. The blonde would make a good show piece, if that's your desire. Now, I know they look a little beat up, but that means they have spirit."

"How much for the human?" Venom dripped from the elf's voice, tracing the deadness of his eyes.

Up to this point, Strider had hoped Elrohir was trying to stealthily aid their escape, but the deadness and contempt in the elf's eyes were not Elrohir's. Something had happened. His brother was definitely not himself.

"For the human. Let's see." Mailik carefully examined the situation. Too much, and she might lose the deal, but too little, and she would lose in the profit. "One hundred gold coins."

"Fine." The shadow of Elrohir pulled a black velvet pouch from his robes and handed them to the lady.

Receiving the bag, she weighed it in her hand. Slightly heavier than 100, but that would be fine. Pulling a piece out, she bit the coin. It was gold. "The human is yours. What would you like me to do with him?"

"Keep him tied here for now. I will claim him later."

Satisfied with her deal, Mailik left before the man could change his mind.

The elf who should have been Elrohir remained behind, examining his purchase. Strider's breath was shallow and faint. His injuries cried out in constant pain, but the pain of his heart was deeper. What had happened to his brother? Why was he acting in such a manner? Where was the light, the joy, that usually shone from his eyes and soul?

Slowly, Elrohir drew from his belt one of the finely crafted elven knives, which he always carried with him. Gazing at the razor sharp blade for a moment, the elf stood silently. Lowering the blade, he placed the sharp point under Aragorn's chin and raised it so that each being looked the other in the eye. "Human," he seemed to spit the words out as if they were filthy. "You shall die at the tip of this blade, but not yet. The dark lady Moririme sends me in her stead. She demands a present from you, and will only be pleased with your head, which I shall bring her."

TBC...