An arrow-like glare shot through the air towards Donovan, undisguised in the least, as he loudly and correctly wondered about why she didn't seem thrilled to return to the Vizier. She'd foolishly let too much slip, not that she had much choice about it, and now they knew that much more about her. Knowledge was everything. Well, time to follow her own advice. Sharp eyebrows, like daggers, thrust upward as the captive commander helplessly listened to the conversation. She couldn't avoid it even if she wanted to, but for now this was proving to be very interesting. The Elf was<em>not</em>one of the thieves, as she'd first assumed. Did that mean there was still a Dark Elven accomplice out there somewhere? At first she'd thought the reports had been wrong - it was dark, everyone was likely dressed to conceal their identities, it'd be easy to see a light elf at night and assume Dark. Those little light-gold daggers, barely visible against the general's ivory-white skin, furrowed further as the woman listened and tried to piece together the puzzle. This Elf had 'come from someone important', but they did not know what she wanted. Yet still they let her on board. Why? Why all the trouble? Were they stupid? Or had Methuseld misunderstood and they<em>had</em>known the employer? No, that couldn't be. Otherwise they'd likely know what she wanted, right?<br/><br/>Briefly 'struggling' against her bonds, the general's tall, feminine, yet powerful form lay in the hammock like a deer trussed up after the kill. She resented this, resented capture. She'd never been captured by the enemy in her life - both when she fought alongside her late Lord and later when she fought without him, she'd always been too good. Either more powerful, more skilled, or just plain smarter than her opponent. But accidents happened, especially when she was... under the influence, so to speak. She hated that about herself. Hated how it made her lose control and therefore weakened her. Not just control of her mind, though that was bad enough, but also control of her body, of her desires, of everything she held dear.<br/><br/>She was not Methuseld after this curse. And she wondered if she ever would be again.