As I was marched off to the Boat, I thought of how I got myself into this mess in the first place.
Oh yes, it had started off when I had spotted an unusually large number of goblins heading for Kheledul. In a nick of time, I decided to follow, and got myself captured in the process.
And escaped.
I always knew they would come for me, send me off somewhere before executing me, but if I could at least play the bait and delay their actions, it could at least give the elves some time to prepare before the invasion would be launched.
"C'orch 'waur!" I snarled at the Dwarves that were holding me. The rude remark was responded by a kick.
"Quiet, prisoner!" One of the Dwarves yelled. I decided against snapping back, not wanting to be sent off beyond hope sooner.
The Boat was eerie and gloomy, swaying along the waters of the Lune. There was no small comfort in there, I was sure, especially as it was occupied by Naurgrim. I retched in disgust but allowed myself to be thrown into the ship.
I stood alone for hours, under the watchful eye of the Dourhands, pondering, looking at the stars. I wondered what I would see beyond the Lune. Aman? Valinor? The Sea?
The Sea...
I looked around the ship, feeling restless. I fidgeted a bit before peering down the ship onto my reflection. I looked untidy, scruffy. Clad in Green robes. Simple, yet at least it was better than a dress. I did not want to sail, but I still longed for a glimpse of the sea, if that was possible, it would at least give me some measure of comfort among these dirty, thieving Dourhands.
I could hear the murmuring of the captain and another dwarf, discussing my fate. I listened closely, eyes half-closed, to make it look like I had fallen asleep.
"What shall we do with her?" One asked.
"I just received a message from the Angmarim." Another voice said.
"Message?"Orders?" The other voice was concerned.
"We have orders to bring her to Umbar." The other one replied.
"U-umbar? But captain! Isn't that a bit too far for our trusty littl' Ship?" The other sailor said.
"No, it's just enough!" The other said proudly, although stressed. I had to listen very carefully as the captain lowered his voice: "What do you think they'll do to her?"
"I don't know, maybe they'll execute her there." Me? Me? An old, aspiring minstrel, to be delivered to Umbar personally? What outrageous crimes have I commited to be given to the lands of Gondorian Men?
"They say she might hold valuable information concerning Hollin, the Elf havens of Rivendell and Lindon, and also a few snigs of things that happened thousands of years ago."
"What could they want with a disgusting Elf like her?" Well, at least the feelings were mutual.
"We're not supposed to debate that, ye big fool!" The captain's voice climbed.
"So, we can't ask the Angmarim? We just get her there, without being told anything?" The other voice was slightly disappointed, "By Skorgrim's Beard. But what Lord Skorgrim says we must do. He says it is an honour to be allied with Angmar."
"Yes, yes..." The captain trailed off.
"But... captain, don't you think, that Skorgrim has been... deathly disturbing recently? My father told me he was strong and mighty. But when I saw him... he was not what I expected him to be. I shivered when he passed so close. He is cold."
"Ye fool! We can't freely talk about that!" The captain yelled, "Now get up there ye lazy beardling and start making the preparations for depature!"
The Door right next to me flew open, and the trudgy sailor waddled out of the Captain's Cabin, snarling at me before shouting orders at the others. I retiliated with a hateful sneer. As the time passed, and I found myself alone - aside from the two guards keeping watch over me - I gradually became weary of being held captive. I thought about Taramthir, about Tanes, about my cousins. But I felt pain as I realized, that this may be my last few days before I pass into the halls of Mandos. I had not yet told Taramthir of how I felt. Stale bread and water had been given to me, but I did not feel like eating. It was as if I was waiting for something.
I was suddenly woken up from my trance by a sharp kick to my leg. I groaned as I woke up, a dirty-faced Dwarf Brigand standing before me.
"Ye try any sly tricks, and these two," He gestured at the dwarf guards, who were jeering at me, "Will have yer head off for anything you try. Understood, snivelling Elf?"
"Yrch!" Was all I could say, alarmed, looking behind the Guard. He followed my glance to see a hoard of Goblins, an Angmarim at their head, bickering among themselves and approaching the docks.
"Stay here, cur!" He ordered me, before he went to greet his guests.
"Sha! Duguruk! Glob búbhost!" I heard foul speech among the goblins. The Dwarf hurried off to meet the Angmarim Emissary, politely bowing and gesturing towards me. The Angmarim would not look at me, however, and made a snide comment, where both Dwarf and Angmarim laughed, and some goblins (Who knew Westron, apparently) joined in.
Suddenly, although I was sure they were nowhere near Kheledul, I could hear distressed voices. They knew about my disappearance. And they would make the Dourhands pay. They were not coming now. But they will be.
Soon.
Where did these voices come from? Am I hallucinating... or perhaps, fate is being kinder to me today.
