SILVER

Was I...dead?

The soft distant murmuring around me seemed to prove otherwise. Unless they were also dead. I feel myself chuckle at the thought, it was a silent chuckle and probably just happened inside my head. I focus on the sounds, too afraid to open my eyes and see that heaven is not exactly what I imagined it to be. Or worse, I could wake up and be halfway around the world.

Yikes.

I try to move my arms discreetly, feeling the weight of a heavy slumber leave my limbs. How long was I out? What kind of drug did they use on me? The murmurs seized and I hold myself still. What if they noticed me moving? I strain to hear the voices but was met with nothing but silence and the sound of crickets. Oh god. This was like the foundation of every nightmare I had as a kid. Growing up, my parents always warned me of the dangers of the world. I wish dad was here right now. I hear a faint rustle of feet before a cool breeze sweeps over me, for just a moment.

I count to 15... 30, before I open my eyes to tiny, hopefully unnoticeable, slits. Well, this doesn't help much especially if you have crappy eyes like mine. I risk it and open my eyes wider. Above me was what looked like the middle of a tent. Was I inside a tent? I blink slowly before my eyes finally adjust to the dim light, although it seemed blurry, it was clear that I was inside a large tent. Its flaps moving in and out slowly with its battle with the wind outside. I turn my head to the other side and make out a vague figure on what appeared to be a cot, beside me. I immediately assumed it was a girl, with her chestnut hair falling loosely around her. Sweet potatoes, was I being trafficked? Don't they have standards anymore?

I push myself up slowly on my elbows, hoping I don't make a sound that would most likely be the reason for my own death, and scan the large tent around me. It was simple, probably set up in a hurry, but orderly nonetheless. Beside the cot I was lying in was a small wooden table, a lamp flickering noiselessly on top it. I bite back the cry of pain as it shoots up my spine and resonates on the back of my head, a switch to my memory.

I remember now. I remember being in the library. I remember the odd janitor, the weird markings on the paper. Diyos ko, George! I reach up to the back of my head and find my wound neatly bandaged. My fingers go up my hair and find the tangled ends. Now this, was no surprise. I close my eyes, feeling the effects of sleeping too much, I fight back a groan. What in the world did they give me?

I suddenly remember the girl on the other bed and I turn to look at her again, my eyes flickering briefly on the tent's entrance. Could she be a victim too? With all the courage and strength  I could muster, I take hold of the lamp, hoping it would somehow be useful as a weapon and swing my legs over the bed. The world spins for a moment before my mind is clear again. My feet touches a soft carpet and I realize I was barefoot. Great. Half-blind, barefoot and dirty. I can't even begin to imagine what I smell like. I tiptoe across the tent and hover over the sleeping figure, squinting and leaning over to get a better look. She was probably my age, fair skin, long nose. Definitely not Filipino. How unlucky the two of us are. I notice her covered with bandages, on her ribs, her arms. Her shirt was stained with blood and my stomach bubbles with worry. Somehow, this girl was probably my only chance of living through this. What happened to her? And who caused it? Beside her cot was the same round table, with what appeared to be herbs on top of it. I take one, lifting it to my nose and take whif, almost coughing in the process. What the hell?

The loud murmurs froze me in place as I spin to stare at the tent's entrance. The grip on the lamp tightens and the very thought of this being the only chance me and this strange girl would escape clutches in my chest. I have to at least try. I scurry off near the tent's entrance, making sure I make no sound. I highly doubt I would be able to do something except piss them off more. I almost propel myself towards it as the flap opened briefly, only for a second, before it closed again. I hold my breath and listen to the voices outside. I frown upon realizing it was not a language I was familiar with and I was familiar with quite a few. The voices seemed to belong to men and my hope falters. They would toss me around like a rag doll. I lean close and listen.

From where I stood, I calculated there were three of them. Three distinct yet similar voices. They were distinct by the sound but the way their words echoed and vibrated through the thin layer of cloth, were similar. All of them seemed to have voices like honey. Soft and almost melodic. One would almost consider being their prisoner. One of them raises their voice and a hand sticks into the tent. My eyes grow wide, my whole body going rigid.

The one who steps in was not at all what I expected. He was definitely not one of the men who had captured me in the first place. His dark hair and tall frame was the first thing I noticed as he stepped in quietly. I stare at him for a second before the gears of my mind starts working and I lift the lamp and bring it down on him- hard. I was surprised I had even hit him. He was surprised as well from the look on his face as the lamp hit his left shoulder and it breaks. He barely twitches.

Uh-oh.

The shattered lamp falls to the floor and I see his face for the first time. I had no time, or no courage, to look anywhere else. He stood almost two heads taller than me, with eyes that showed neither mercy nor understanding. My mouth falls open, as I feel my soul leave my body. He looks so unforgiving, I could almost volunteer to kill myself so he would not have to. He was all a blur, with the lack of light and my sucky vision but I could already tell he was not normal. My heart continued to hammer in my chest as I felt his gaze sweep over me for the nth time like he was still trying to figure out what this petite little girl was trying to do. Then his head turns briefly to the direction of the other girl and I feel my protectiveness sweep in. The least I could do was divert his attention from her. She was unconscious! Who knows what horrors he has in mind! Without a moments thought I swerve and run out the tent, the cool night air slapping me alert.

So dark. I realized I was in the middle of a camp. Tents were put up around me and I feel myself falter for a moment before I hear him follow me outside. I kick myself and run in whichever direction, feeling the ground and dirt cut through my bare feet. I run until I meet two similar looking figures, both dressed in the same fashion. Something silver. They looked medieval in some weird way. I suck in another breath and blindly run in another direction. I turn and could not stop the scream from coming out of my mouth as a horse, kicked and neighed in front of me. I stagger backwards, resulting in my downfall. I feel the earth as I hit the ground with a miserable thud. So much for being the hero. I sit up and freeze, realizing there were now more of them standing around me. I swallow the fear building up my throat, sweat dripping down my forehead and neck. Two of them walk towards me, I remained focus on their shoes. They looked light and shiny.

"Are you alright?" A voice, one of them, asked. I notice a hand being offered to me. I close my eyes, sending prayers to every god I knew, before I look up. They looked even more vague now that light was even lesser. I reach up a shaky hand towards the man and he pulls me up easily. Like I weighed nothing. For a moment, as I look up to meet his eyes, I thought it was the same man I had hit with the lamp but it could not have been. For this man was wearing something entirely different.

"You must have a lot of questions," he continues. I squint out of habit and hear someone chuckle.

"Here," he hands me something. Glasses? I put them on and the world is clear again. "Is that better?" He asked. He was still a head or two taller with the same dark hair and grey eyes. I stare at him, unable to speak. Unable to comprehend how impossibly beautiful he looked. Beside him was someone as tall as him. His hair was a light shade of brown, or it appeared to be under the glowing lamps around us.

"You must be famished," the one states. I turn to meet his eyes again. They were kinder, softer than I imagined.

"Perhaps she does not speak?" His companion offers after I continue my silence. The dark haired man smiles briefly before turning to me, once again.

"She can, she just refuses to," he says. My eyes narrow at his arrogant answer before a new voice joins the conversation.

"Ah, I see you have caught our little escapee," his voice, much darker and somehow more loud, made the hairs on my skin stand up. I was positive he was the one I hit with a lamp. I hold myself together. Do not cry, Rosa. Goodness, do not cry.

"Who-," I start, catching the incoming sob in my throat, "- who are you? Where am I? What-"

"I will start by saying this, my lady," the man in front of me says as he places a hand over his heart. "We mean you no harm."

"The other one did not take that statement so lightly," the man behind me muttered. The man before me ignores him. I might have gone entirely mad or that hit on the head has caused me permanent brain damage because for some reason, I believe him. I scan the area around me, noticing a few of them standing and peering over at us. All of them were tall and had hair that reached their torso. How odd.

"Will you permit us to ask you a few questions?" The man in front of me insisted. I give him a nod. As my eyes try to find a way to escape. Distracting him would be good. It always works in the movies.

"Only if you allow me to ask questions of my own," I say, my voice surprisingly strong.

"Very well," he replies, "perhaps over supper? You must be famished. Do not even try to deny it. Two moons have passed since you have lost consciousness and that vile drink that was given to you has not clearly washed off yet."

"Two moons? You mean, like, two days?" I asked, wide eyed. I place a hand on my chest, trying to digest the news before the rest of his sentence becomes clear in my mind.

"What vile drink? Were you the ones that took me? How do I know-"

"Please, over supper," the man insisted. I open my mouth to argue as I find my escape. The horse! Of course. I have ridden once or twice. How hard could it be? My mind reels in the possibilities as the man in front of me and his companion turn away and start walking. Was this my chance? Were they going to make it a tad bit easy? My feet move a quarter of an inch before a hand reaches out to grab my arm in a tight grip.

"Banish those thoughts from your head," his voice sent a rippling echo of fear down my spine. Of course. "You are not leaving tonight or any other night. Not before our father meets you, or before we get answers." He shoves me softly towards the two figures who were either unaware of this abuse or chose to ignore it. I grumble and pull my hand away roughly, "I was not planning on escaping." I say, although he could probably hear my lie.

"Good, I would hate to be your companion. To find you gone when I wake up. She was the one who saved you from those dwarves," he says quietly. I let him maneuver me towards the tent where they were supposedly serving supper. I did not dare look up at him. They must be related? I did not really have a clear vision but I would not dare look up just to satisfy my curiousity. Wait, did he just say dwarves?

I am given no time to ask him as I was pushed, rather roughly, into the tent. I hear him grumble something in another language before I was left alone. I huff in annoyance before I turn to meet the two other men who were now seated across a large circular table. Food and wine were spread across it. The man gestures to the chair in front of him. I take it, watching him suspiciously as two other men entered the tent and began serving me with food and wine. They hardly gave room for rejection. When my plate was full and my cup filled to the brim, they left and I was alone once again with the two men.

"I am Elladan," the dark haired man speaks first before he gestured to the man beside him, "this is Adamar, one of my counsel."

I could hardly ignore the hunger threatening to rip my stomach apart but I had to remain suspicious. I had to remain vigilant. They do not even have rice! I take one of the parcel of bread on my plate and begin to pick at it, taking nibbles and making sure I was not dying. It was then I realized they were waiting for me to speak.

"Silver," I mumble, finally deciding the bread was safe.

"Silver? Like the mineral?" Adamar questioned and I raised a brow at him.

"Yes, why? Does it offend you?"

To my surprise he smiles as the man named Elladan leaned back on his chair, studying me with his wisdom filled eyes.

"Forgive me, my lady. Truth be told, I find it quite odd to name a woman a type of mineral."

"You're one to talk. What kind of name is Adamar?" I counter, taking my next victim from the table. He laughs in response as I taste test the food before indulging myself.

"Elladan, though, I have heard of that name," I state. This seems to gain more of their attention, besides my un-lady like dining etiquette.

"Have you, really?" Elladan asked, his curious tone obvious. I nod, sucking on my thumb. This seems to make Adamar uncomfortable. Good.

"Yes, from a book. Have you heard of Tolkien?" I inquire as I take tentative sips of the wine. "He wrote about an elven lord named Elladan."

Adamar straightened on his chair as Elladan remained composed.

"Elven Lord?" Adamar questioned and I gave him a nod, with a small laugh.

"Of course, it was all based on fiction. Tolkien was a genius-"

"Tell me more of this Elladan, Elven lord." He interjected. How rude. I roll my eyes, they did not know tolkien? They seemed the type that should know. The types that could very well be part of the book.

"He wasn't really an important character, all I know is that he has a twin named Elrohir and their father is the Lord of Rivendell."

With this Elladan stands up, his expression was pure and utter shock. Did I say something wrong? He whispered something to Adamar who stood up quickly and exited the tent.

"So they did have a reason to take you," Elladan says quietly.

"What? Who? What are you talking about?"

"Do not play coy with me," he stated and I am suddenly frozen again. I stare at him as he paced the room, thinking to himself and muttering incoherent words. My heart starts pounding again and the tent opens. I turn to see Adamar enter with another man by his side. I felt the word, tilt a little. Twins? I turn to look at Elladan and back at the new companion.

"What is it? What does she know?" He asked casually and I knew I had said something wrong.

"She knows about Ada, about Rivendell. Claims to have known a Tolkien who wrote about it," Elladan answered, the worry seeping out from his voice. I stare at them for a moment before the thoughts I hid at the back of my mind exploded. No way in hell.

"Let me guess, you are Elrohir?" I asked, my own heart refusing to slow down. The man beside Adamar nods once. I breathe out a laugh, shaking my head. My laughter increases, bubbling inside my stomach that I had to cross my hands over it to prevent myself from doubling over. I laugh and laugh until tears leaked out of my eyes. The three of them watch me for a long moment.

I continue to shake my head.

"Talk about dedication!" I exclaim, slapping my shoulder. They all stare at me like I was going crazy. I probably was. For a moment, panic settles in my heart and I place a hand on my head. Oh god. How hard did I hit my head?

"Lady Silver," Elladan calls to me but I shake my head at him. What kind of messed up place was I in?

"Tell me you are joking..." I almost beg. They do not seem familiar with the term. "Jesting?..."

"We do not jest, my lady." Adamar says, concern in his voice. He almost looked symphatetic. I shake my head again and a half hearted laugh escapes my lips. A hand was placed on my shoulder and I shove it away.

"Okay, you can stop this foolishness! I mean, it has always been a dream of mine to be in middle earth but this is just impossible!" I practically scream. I start pacing, taking in shallow breaths like how my psychiatrist told me.

I point an accusing finger at the three of them, "who put you up to this? Was it George? God that imbecile." I start muttering. Elladan reaches for me, a firm grip on my shoulder. He was now aware I was shaking.

"This is impossible," I say again, hoping he would confirm it. Hoping they would all laugh and say I was right.

"The hit the head was more serious than I thought," He seemed to say and I start shaking my head at him, laughter almost escaping when I notice something I should have noticed before.

Pointed ears. So pointed. Too real.

"Oh God." I whimper as I lose consciousness once again.