Okay, sorry I haven’t written in a while, but I just started high school and then became involved in the school play. So I know you all are dying to know what happens to Liedral. Here it is.
PS I’m still looking for an editor…? Any takers?
Panic rose in her chest. She tried calling out, but found her mouth gagged. A rough grunt cleared her roiling mind. She knew what she had to do; the question was, how?
She was thrown roughly on the ground, and had the chance to look at her captor. However, his face as in shadow, and he would not turn so Liedral could see him clearly.
“Wh-What do you want?” she said, trying to be brave.
“I’d have no use for you if it weren’t for Him. He wants you,” replied the figure in astoundingly perfect Quenya.
“Who are you?” she demanded, her fear somewhat subsided.
The figure laughed, and pulled off a cunning mask. It was Haldìr of Lorièn, disguised. “I have been sent to rescue you,” he said.
“Well, I don’t want to be rescued,” said Liedral indignantly.
“I’m sorry, but with the new Enemy, you must go back home. Arwen is most frantic over your disappearance.”
“Arwen Shmarwen,” muttered Liedral. She stood and started to walk away.
“Oh no you don’t!” said Haldìr, intercepting her. He quickly tied her feet together, as well as her wrists. He secured the knots with vicious jerks.
“Hey!” she cried, struggling against her bonds. “That hurts!” Haldìr had tight her wrists together so tightly her skin was breaking in places. A malicious sneer was on his face.
“It’s supposed to,” he replied. “You need some preliminary punishment for worrying Arwen and your father like that.”
“I don’t care, let me go!” Liedral glared ferociously. “I’m going to find my mother!”
“Not if I have any say in it,” said Haldìr lightly, starting a fire. Soon it was a roaring blaze, flooding Liedral with warmth. It was welcome, for the night was chill and moist.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean that you cannot leave. I have been given orders, much as I resent being treated as a servant, and I intend to follow them,” he said, sneering. “Besides, Arwen is my mother-in-law, and for her sake I do much,” he added.
“Yes,” Liedral said slowly. “You’re my mother’s husband, correct?” She looked at him and he nodded. “But not my father.” He leered maliciously, and it sent a thrill of fear up Liedral’s spine. `How am I going to get out of this one…?’ she wondered.