[littlemanpoet]

Aeron moved to Gwyllion and nudged her shoulder. "Gwyll?" Her eyes fluttered and opened. "Gwyll!" She winced.

"Ow! Must you scream in my ear, you naughty boy?"

"Gwyll! You're awake!" Raefindan chuckled; Aeron's smile threatened to crack his face, it was so big.

She sat up and looked at him, stunned. "You died! I saw you drown! Or was that a dream?" She closed her eyes and shook her head as if trying to shake away the last cobwebs of sleep.

"The swamp elf took you from us, Gwyll! You've been asleep for days!"

Her eyes went wide, then narrowed to slits. "Do not jest so cruelly with me!"

"It is the truth, Gwyllion," Raefindan said. "It is good to see you awake and yourself."

She looked at Raefindan, confused. "I could not be someone else."

Raefindan smiled. "No, of course not."

"But he still has Mellonin," Ravion grated.

"The swamp elf has Mellonin?" Gwyllion asked, horrified.

"Aye," answered Raefindan. "He holds our choices hostage as long as he keeps her. If his treatment of you is any sign, we would do well to continue to do his bidding, which is to make our way back to Minas Tirith. Maybe he will return her to us safe and sound. Let us break our fast and be ready to go before the sun rises a half a hand's breadth higher."

They did as he said. Soon they were moving south, Jorje romping ahead on the open plain, running freely like he could not on the narrow paths of the swamp.

They halted for a noon meal when the sun was at its height. As they sat in a circle, glum for the lack of Mellonin, a party of a dozen or so men could be seen approaching on horseback from the south.

"Do you see them?" asked Erundil, pointing. "They are far from the road. I wonder what they do so near the swamp?"

"I know not," said Raefindan, "but they seem to be headed our way."

So it was. In another minute, the horsemen had come near enough to be seen clearly.

"Oh no," said Aeron. "That merchant is with them."

Raefindan stood, and the others followed his lead. In moments, they were surrounded by fourteen horsemen, swords drawn. Raefindan picked out their leader by his crested helm, for twelve who were with the merchant and his man at arms, wore soldierly garb.

"Good day to you. Your actions show you to be hostile to us. Why is this?"

"There are two among you who are thieves." He eyed Aeron and Gwyllion pointedly. "We have come to take them back to Minas Tirith, and claim our reward for their capture."

"You may not have them," Raefindan said evenly.

"We shall have them, and you will not stand in our way, at peril to your lives."