((A little bit of Sindarin here... The English Translations are not direct- they are what would be said if she were speaking English and not Sindarin.))
Nenloth peers over the side of the boat, looking into the depths of the murky waters below. She struggles against the bindings around her wrists.
'What shall we do with her?' One of the men on the other side of the small boat questions another.
'They said to get rid of her. She knows too much about...' They both eye each other, too scared to speak on whatever it was that they were babbling about earlier on.
The elf maiden inwardly chastises herself for underestimating the two traders. 'Let me go...' Nenloth demands as she struggles with the harsh words of the common tongue. She does not dislike the language but prefers the natural flow and beauty of the elven tongues.
'No...' One of the men spits, saliva spews forth from between various holes in his teeth. He leans forward, the stench of him filling Nenloth's nasal passages. 'Put a bag over her head...' The man demands, turning to face the other. 'We are too close to others of her kind in this place... They spot her and we'll be filled with more arrows than there be stars in the skies.'
Nenloth groans in protest as a bag is thrown over her face and tightened about her neck.
'Where should we... How?' One of the men asks the other.
A bird sound erupts from somewhere nearby... An odd sounding bird, Nenloth doesn't recognise the species.
'Shhhhh.....' The boat falls silent.
'That sounded like a... A blue tail...' One of the men states. 'Blue tails be big fat birds... They only take liking for the day time.' There is an edge of panic in his voice.
'They know we got her...' More panic.
Nenloth feels the boat rocking heavily beneath the feet of the men. Then she feels two pairs of hands against her body, lifting her up and rolling her over the edge of the boat and into the water.
Desperately Nenloth struggles against the ropes about her wrists and ankles; she can feel the water dragging her down and under. Too much panic is within her to do much else other than sink to the bottom.
'This is... This is it...' She thinks. Slowly Water-Flower (Nenloth) succumbs to the currents, her lungs fill and she feels her grip on middle earth loosening.
----------
'Dadweno nenlotheg! ((Wake up little water lilly))' A man's voice. He laughs.
Nenloth's eyes flicker open. For a moment the world is a blur.
'He dadwennen ((She's awake))' A small child speaks.
Soon Nenloth's vision returns, the warmth of the sun is welcome against her skin and she moves a hand upward to feel her temple. Every part of her body aches... Her head, her neck... But somehow she feels nourished, sustained- in her mouth she can taste citrus fruits and flowers, with a background taste that could only be described as... Slightly, unpleasant.
She sits up, sighing. Blinking as she adjusts her vision to her surroundings. Trees, flowers... She looks down to herself... Covered in mud and dirt. Nearby a fire has been lit. Next to it a bowl and a cup... Both remind the maiden of Harlindon in design.
'Suilanno nin ((Hello)),' Nenloth looks about herself. No-one is there. She swore that only moments ago she felt the presence of several elves. Light, kind elves ... She feels uplifted and the taste of citrus fills her senses once more.
Slowly she makes her way to her feet. Frowning at her clothing and the mud and dirt covering herself. She wonders what she must look like to others.
'Gûr nín linna a thulu lín ar aníron le cened! Anglenno nin! ((Thank you for helping me! WHy do you not present yourselves?))' Nenloth shouts, only the slight echo of the vast forest about her responds. Nenloth hears something moving nearby and with some effort she moves toward the sound.
'Lothlas! ((Lilly-pad!))' Nenloth exclaims, seeing her horse well and safely tied to an old oak tree. 'Lothlas, le melin ((Oh lilly-pad))...' She wraps her arms around the placid horse. Smiling as she sees that all her belongings are still tied to its side.
'Be nored ammen... ((We should go...))' Nenloth moves to get up and onto the horse but she pauses. Quickly, she hurries to the fire and picks up the cup of pinkish liquid... She partakes of it, feeling it warm her, nourish her. She smiles, placing the beautiful cup upon the ground and returning then to her horse.
'Mellon, i ven vín and ((My friend... We have a long journey ahead of us))' Nenloth climbs up onto the horse and begins her journey home to the Calarind and her new Kin, the Loth-i-Lonnath.
----- Half a day of Fast riding and heavy rain, Nenloth has returned to the Kin house of LiL-----
'Nenloth!' Elvea exclaims. 'I chemmaid lín gwoer! ((You are covered in mud!))' Nenloth laughs and walks past the maiden and into the hall, wherein she is greeted by a warm fire and the disapproving looks of the others as she leaves a trail of muddy foot prints behind her...
