"Tell me!" The words echoed in her mind. The voice moved closer; she could feel the warmth and smell the stench of his breath. "Tell me what you know..." he said quietly, "...NOW!" As he shouted this last word, the sound of a whip was his punctuation mark. "I already told you..." she whimpered, knowing this wasn't what he wanted to hear. "AAHH!" Her thoughts were confirmed by the sting of his whip against her frail back.

Years later, circa 2040 of the Third Age...

She couldn't remember exactly how, but she now found herself running, running towards that ever closing gap before her. She heard the shouting around her, the commotion, but heeded none of it. "Run, just keep running," she told herself as a pain in her shoulder caused her to lose her footing and stumble. Suddenly, her world went black.

Later, she wasn't sure how much later, she awoke to find herself face up, staring into the faces of two young men. Startled, she tried to back away, but the pain in her shoulder but her movements short. She winced with the pain. "Are you alright?" on of the men asked, leaning down to help her. "Don't touch me!" she screamed, her uninjured arm automatically reaching for her, now absent, knife. The man backed off, but the sudden movement had been too much for her weak body, and darkness took her again.

The sound of trickling water reached her ears, and, as she slowly became aware of her surrounding, she found herself lying in the most comfortable bed she had been in since...that last night. One quick intake of breath, and all the memories, forgotten for a second, flooded back. The sight of blood forced her eyes open, and she beheld her surroundings for the first time: first, the elegant quilt that covered her, then, the intricate carvings on the bed. She followed this up to a beautiful oak door, and she slowly swept her eyes around the walls, decorated with beautiful artwork of nature and peaceful settings.

She suddenly became aware or eyes looking at her, studying her intently. She didn't look right away, but allowed her gaze to continue its movement around the room, until it naturally fell upon the owner of the eyes. She slowly looked him up and down, as though sizing up a potential threat. She couldn't help it; it was in her nature to be wary. "Hello," said the man, slowly, cautiously. "It's good to see you've regained consciousness, even momentarily." He seemed harmless enough, but she didn't take any chances. Although she was wary, she was too trusting, and look where it got her. She remained silent. "I am Boromir, and you have nothing to fear. You are in Gondor, in the house of Healing, under the rule of King Eärnur. Be at peace; you have nothing to fear." She relaxed slightly, but still kept her eyes on this man. She felt sleep creep in and overtake her, and, on Boromir's advice, she gave into its power and slept in a dreamless sleep.

As she slipped into sleep, he looked at her with a sense of pity. She looked so frail and thin, yet she also looked as though she could kill an orc with her bare hands. For the few seconds she had been awake, he had seen such a fierceness in her eye that he hadn't seen in years, al least since the last battle, which had been several years past. "Then there was that other time...no." Boromir quickly pushed that thought away. He had not thought of him for years, no reason to now. His thoughts were disturbed as he became aware that she was murmuring something under her breath. He leaned in closer and strained his ears, but only caught a few words: "no...please...stop..." She then slipped into a tongue that he didn't recognize, but it sounded pleasant to the ear, perhaps some form of elvish, although she sounded slightly terrified. He tried to catch and remember a few words to relay to one of the other healers; "Atara, Atar, Valya, amin naa lathynth amin (betrayed ...-e) lle...synthra tenin mi." (Mother, Father, gods, I am sorry I betrayed you, please forgive me)

When she awoke a few hours later, she felt as though she had suffered through a long night of hard drinking. A smile crept to her lips as she remembered some of the grand celebrations she had attended in her youth. She opened her eyes, and reality hit her like a tonne of bricks. The man was still in the same chair; she wondered if he had moved at all during the past night. "...and day," she though as she looked out the window to discover the sun lying low in the west. She was glad her window faced west; it meant she didn't have to look at Him. She shuddered at the thought. "Are you cold?" The sound of a voice startled her. She looked at the man. "No..." she said cautiously, "but I am hungry." She hadn't eaten properly in years, probably decades. "I'll send someone to bring you up some food," he replied. When he returned, she noticed he sat in the exact same position as before, not a hair was different. "Okay...that's kinda weird," she thought, but said nothing. "What is your name, again?" she asked after a few moments of silence. "Boromir, son of Anathor." "Boromir, Boromir," she repeated a few times. "That is a kingly name." "Oh, I am no king, miss, merely the son of a healer, and, thus, a healer myself." he said, smiling. "But you have not told me your name yet." He hoped that a mane might give him some clue as to who this girl was, where she came from...what happened to her. She looked at him for a moment, and then looked hard at the door, as if expecting someone to come through with the answer. "My name, my name..." Her actual name hadn't been used in so long, she had actually forgotten it. She felt tears welling up, turning the door into a brown blur. She looked at him and he nodded with sympathy. Just then the door opened and a woman with lightly frosted hair and very pale skin entered, carrying a tray laden with food. "Just place it on the night table, Freda, thank you." The woman did this, without even looking at the patient lying in the bed. She curtseyed and exited the room silently.

The smells reached her nose and as she turned her head to look, her mouth watered immediately. What was on the tray may have seemed to be a perfect portion to someone else, but appeared as a feast to her starved body. Boromir brought up a tray holder from beneath the bed and placed the food before her. She was so weak she could barely sit up, even with his help and a few pillows to prop her up. "She has brought nourishing food and this will give your body its strength back," he informed her. "But do not eat to quickly, as you'll make yourself sick," he added, laughing, looking at her as her eyes devoured the food before it even reached her lips.

Their attention was grabbed by a light tapping at the door. It opened and the frosted hear reappeared. "Excuse me, m'lord," Freda said quietly. "But there's someone who would like to speak with you." "Thank you, Freda. Excuse me, I'll just be a minute." He said, turning to the girl. She nodded, barely acknowledging his presence; she was so absorbed in the feast.

Well that's all for now...lemme know what you think...also if someone would be able to give me a hand with the translation, much appreciated.