[Manelwen]

"I would rather die than feel the mercy of your hand." Keldin replied hotly, the fires of rage burned in his eyes, and his jaw clenched as the grasp on his knife handle tightened. "I came here to finish what I failed to complete four millenia ago." He towered over the elf, glaring down at her.

Throwing back her head, she laughed a laugh that was full of bitterness. "You fool! You think that you can possibly touch me?" As she asked, orcs flooded the tent, the leather flaps of the pavillion lifting to show orc archers; all with their arrows pointed at him.

"What do you want us to do with him, Lady Thrakatburtz?" A rather tall orc asked, his eyes falling to her feet; obviously too intimidated to meet her eyes.

She snarled and raised her hand, obviously intending to strike down the orc for merely talking to her. "Tie him up, I'll deal with him later." The elf snapped, before tossing her hair over her shoulder.

"You'll pay for this, Siluialwen." Keldin growled, letting the orcs quickly and roughly clasp iron manacles around his wrists and ankles, taking away his weapons and throwing them in a pile in front of him.

Thrakatburtz shook her head, stepping up to him and stabbing a long slender finger at his chest, as if it were a knife "No Keldin, Brother. You will pay." Her voice was grave but unnervingly calm, which left many of the orcs rather unsettled, but the tall elf seemed impervious to her deadly tone of voice. "I will make you pay for every single year that I have been without my son. You will be begging for my mercy when I am done with you."