[Ransom]

=Rivendell=

A figure cloaked in gray slipped through the long, empty corridor of Rivendell. He could remember the time when these halls had been full of light and laughter. The Age of the Elves are coming to an end. His father’s words seemed to echo around him, weighing him down. And this bothered him. More than ever, he needed the façades and the skills he had developed all his life. Why was he letting this trip bother him so?

He made a sharp left, heading toward the stables. Elladan will be there packing for our trip. He must be.

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Elrohir sighed with annoyance. Elladan was not in his room, the kitchens, and the library. He probably had decided to go see the horses. Elrohir would have to take a trip outside.

The wind insisted on blowing his long brown hair into his face, a situation that was beginning to annoy him. Without stopping, he fished a leather strap out of his pocket and began to gather his hair into a ponytail. He did not notice Meneciriel as she supervised the packing of provisions directly in front of him.

Meneciriel tried to step out of the way of this new arrival, but her feet were not fast enough. Elrohir’s foot caught hers, and both went tumbling to the cobbles. Elrohir ended up softening Meneciriel’s fall, for she had somehow fallen on top of him. He gingerly moved his limbs and established that nothing had been broken. This is NOT a good way to start a journey.