Yours to Command

A Fight in the Dark

You ask what is courage? I say: true courage is to face your worst fears and to go on regardless, not giving up even when confronted with hopeless odds.

(Mardil Voronwe: The Prince)

***

Lothíriel could hear the man's steps crossing the room to the small table standing against one wall. He hadn't even bothered to lock the door behind him. A faint scrape reached her ears, as if he had placed something on the table. A lamp perhaps, to light the room? Lothíriel tried to still the trembling in her fingers, to keep her head high and her back straight. She would not let him see her fear, for he thrived on it, of that she was certain.

"Your little scheme worked," he said, the tightly reined in anger in his tone chilling her. A voice the colour of freshly spilled blood, brightest scarlet.

Nevertheless she could not suppress a brief flare of hope. "Is that so," she replied, trying to keep her expression tightly guarded.

"Yes, it looks like the King of Rohan is delayed somewhat. But don't flatter yourself, all you have done is bought him a little time."

Lothíriel clutched the bedstead behind her in relief. So Éomer had recognised her warning and avoided the trap. Surely he was already searching for her and would find her soon, putting an end to this nightmare.

The man gave a humourless laugh. "You will discover before long that you're nothing but a powerless pawn in the game I'm playing."

"If properly placed, even a pawn can take the king," she retorted.

Now he laughed in earnest. "Not when playing against a master like me. Yours, my Lady Princess, is not a case of taking, but rather of being taken."

Lothíriel shivered, fear running through her, but she tried desperately not to show it. "Your plan will fail."

"King Éomer will still do exactly as he is told." The man sounded amused. "I don't think he'll be able to resist my bait, will he."

"He will not walk into your trap now," she said, trying to infuse her voice with confidence.

"We will see. But there is no rush. Let the King of Rohan worry for a few more hours, he will be all the more eager to fall into my trap." He lowered his voice. "Which means that we have to find a pleasurable way to while away the time until he does come..."

She swallowed, but did not break down and beg for mercy, as he had no doubt expected her to do. As if that would make any difference. Instead she lifted her head defiantly. "Éomer will find you soon enough and end your miserable life."

"You show a touching confidence in his ability to find you. Misplaced, but touching."

A tiny flicker of rage stirred in her heart. "Don't you dare mock him!"

With a few strides he crossed the room to stand before her. "Princess, I can do whatever I want to," he whispered into her ear.

It took all her self-control not to cringe back from him, and he gave a low chuckle. "I can also take whatever I want to." Not touching her. Not yet.

She tried to hold on to her anger. "Some things cannot be taken, they can only be given."

His hot breath brushed against her cheek. "Ah, but I am only taking back what should have been mine anyway."

"What do you mean?"

"Forgive me for not properly introducing myself earlier on," he said in a mocking tone. "My full name is Prince Muzgâsh, son of Uldor, late King of Harad."