Day 2

Nestad woke to the stomp of many feet hours later; according to his mental clock, it was just after sunrise. He moved to a crouching position warily, looking much like a glowing bird of prey watching its newest victim. "So many?" he asked aloud. "Why so many?"

There was the sound of the key in the lock once again and the door burst open. Aewen, as exhausted as she was, kept right on sleeping. A whole group of men entered; a few with swords, but most with bows. They all knocked arrows as soon as they saw the elf. The leader grinned evilly. "I told you we would be back, and that you would regret it," he said.

Nestad tensed, watching the archers with cool eyes. Part of warrior training in Mirkwood included snatching arrows out of the air, but even as fast as he was, he couldn't possibly catch every arrow before they hurt Aewen. "Oh, very good," he said sarcastically. "Threatening prisoners above the rights of sporting." He rested a gentle hand on Aewen's leg. "Aewen, it is time to wake," he said softly, poking her gently with his power.

Aewen startled awake and blinked her eyes. "What is it?" she mumbled as she sat up. But when she saw the blurry figures in front of her she knew exactly what it was.

"I wouldn't be so cocky if I were you," the leader said. "We will not hesitate to shoot the maiden, and, since you seem to care for her so much…it might even be a privilege to do so."

"Touch the maid and you will have more problems than you know how to deal with." Nestad's voice was cool as ice chips, but his blue eyes burned with a deadly fire. No one…no one…threatened a woman on his watch.

The man only laughed, not convinced. "You both will come with us," he said. "You have work to do." And at his signal, the men with swords stepped forward with shackles that would bind the prisoner's wrists together.

Nestad submitted quietly, letting them remove the heavier chains and replace them with shorter arm shackles. His leg chains remained, thank the Valar; his stride was already frustratingly shortened.

Two other soldiers went behind the elf to shackle the woman, leering at her. They felt safe doing so because the elf's back was turned; they feared the healer too much to try anything in front of him at the moment.

Aewen stood up and backed away from the men as far as the chains would allow. "You stay away from me!" she warned.

"Aewen." The calm word drew the attention of everyone in the room. "There is a time and a place for a strong will. I do not think this is it." Shaking off those who had put the shackles on him with ease, the elf walked to stand before Aewen. His voice very soft, he said, "They have archers."

The maiden looked up at him. Tall he was, and so very strong looking. And yet, he was submitting. She bowed her head. Somehow she trusted him enough to follow his gentle suggestion. She knew he would not willingly put her into a life-threatening situation. But her skin crawled at the thought of those brutish hands touching her.

Nestad gently gripped her arm in his hands before releasing her and turning back to the humans. His look was plainly contemptuous as he moved a bit to the side. "Go ahead and change out her chains," he said, making sure he was in a position where he could watch both the archers and the soldiers handling Aewen. He didn't trust those soldiers any farther than he could kick them.

Aewen stood still and let the men put the shackles on her wrists, but she did not stop looking at them with a superior gaze, her eyes piercing and her stance not one of submission as it had been only seconds ago when the elf was talking to her.

That drew some perverse comments from the soldiers binding her, suggesting that the elf had 'laid' her. That lasted for all of thirty seconds, until Nestad leaned forward, clearing his throat meaningfully. The soldiers glanced at him like whipped puppies looking at their master and shut up quickly.

Aewen was trying very hard not to blush at the comments. But she remained in her defiant posture, not willing to give to their intimidations. "Enough of that," the leader said impatiently. "Bring them along." the guards shoved the maiden forward and she nearly fell to the ground, only caught herself just in time.

Nestad was beside her in a flash, supporting her gently and providing a base of comfort in the midst of the terrifying world around them. At the moment, he couldn't tell if it was the part of him that was fascinated with her or his healer side showing, and he didn't care.

"I'm all right," she said softly to him, looking up with gratitude. She continued walking in the direction the guards were leading them. She wore a confident expression on her face, but she couldn't help but worry about where they were taking her, and what 'work' she would have to do.

It was a long climb to the top, and even Nestad was starting to feel winded by the time they broke into the open air. The healer closed his eyes instinctively against the first real light in days, but had to open them again to avoid falling as he was shoved forward away from the stairs. He paused a second, just long enough to fall in stride with Aewen as they were led from the opening into the ground. "Welcome to Rhûn," he murmured.

Aewen blinked and held her hands up in front of her face. Slowly she uncovered them and looked about. She had always imagined Rhûn as an ugly place, with no trees or grass. But in truth it was quite pretty, and didn't look that much different from Gondor. She looked at the elf beside her and was momentarily taken away by his beauty. Even though he was a bit dirty, and carried a few small blemishes from days ago, he seemed perfect to her. And it was a moment before she caught herself staring and looked away.

Nestad looked down, meeting her stare with a gentle smile. He was used to stares when he was around humans; even men stared, sometimes. But from this woman, a stare was like a priceless treasure, a mark that she, so beautiful herself, thought him worthy of attention. When she looked away, he let out a tiny sigh and continued walking by her side, scanning the area with his far-seeing eyes.

"Do you know where they're taking us?" Aewen asked him softly, not looking up.

"Probably to the slave-camps," he replied just as softly. "I do most of my healing there. I wonder what job they will find for you…" his eyes clouded over with worry. He felt a deep sense of responsibility for this girl; he wanted to protect her and keep her from the atrocities that occurred daily among the slaves.

"Why would I be needed there?" she asked, feeling a bit of apprehension

Nestad shook his head. "I don't know. Grinding grain or corn, perhaps, or herding sheep, or spinning, or something." Mentally, he added, 'It beats the thought of the alternative purpose.'

"I guess I can do that…" she said. "Though…I never have before…"

"Are you a fast learner?" he asked. Suddenly, an idea formed in his head. "Wait a minute…" he murmured.

"What?" she asked, looking up at him finally.

He was staring into the middle distance with a faint smile. "I have been needing an assistant for some time," he finally said. Looking down at her, he asked quickly, "How do you handle the sight of blood?"

She shrugged. "It's never bothered me before."

"Good. I think I can get you assigned as my helper, someone who looks at the patients before I get there and decides who is in need of help the most. Of late, there have been many accidents in the fields; the patients never stop coming."

Aewen nodded. "All right…do you think they will let me do that? Maybe they have a different plan for me."

"I think that if they had a different plan for you, they would have already made you go to it." Nestad scanned the immediate area, searching for the familiar form of the taskmaster.

At present, a large man with a whip in one hand and a small staff in the other approached the two prisoners. "More wounded today, elf," he said, his voice deep.

"And why am I not surprised?" The healer asked, shaking his dark head ruefully. He could afford to be obnoxious; he was the only elven healer the entire camp had. That gave him liberties no one else had.

"No sass, just get to it," the overseer said. Then he looked at Aewen. She squared her shoulders and stood proudly before the man. "And what do we have here?" he said with obvious amusement.

"Her name's Aewen," Nestad replied. "Do you already have her assigned to another job, or can I steal her to help me in the healing tent?"

"Well…I can think of one job she could do for me…" the overseer said, giving Aewen a smile. She didn't react, just kept her gaze steady and defiant.

"With all due respect, I do need a helper in the healing tent." Nestad didn't show his terror at the idea of the overseer having Aewen. "The wounds have been piling up, thanks to that new equipment in the fields."

The man sighed and waved his hand in dismissal. "Fine, take her. I'm sure there will be plenty of time for her to attend to other duties when she's done helping you."

The healer bowed his head slightly and motioned for Aewen to follow him. Only when they were out of hearing range of the overseer did Nestad mutter, "Over my dead and rotting body."

Aewen looked up the elf. "Thank you," she said softly. "That man scares me like no one else does."

"That is probably because that man holds the power of life or death over every slave on these lands. He decides the assignments every day and…" Nestad cut himself off with a brief shake of his dark head as he led the way toward a particular tent. Out here, he was almost relaxed, enjoying the sunshine and greenery around him.

Once they were in the tent, the guards removed their wrist shackles, but the ankle restraints remained on so they would not be able to run away. After that, the guards took up positions at the door of the tent.

"Pompous fools, the lot of them," Nestad remarked, rolling his sleeves up. "Now…what have we today?"

The tent held twelve beds easily; five of them were filled already. "You know, I tell them that they need to modify the equipment," Nestad said quietly as he walked from bed to bed, gently touching the patients. "It takes too much effort to get them back here for help."

Aewen followed the elf around the tent, feeling pity for each soul that lay in the beds. "Are they injured badly?" she asked.

"Some more than others." Nestad paused at the side of a woman, her abdomen distended in pregnancy. He gently touched her shoulder and hissed. "Aewen, check the others and see how badly they are injured. If you can see no injuries, wait for my call. If they are bleeding, there are bandages over there." He waved at a basket full of white rolls. "Call if it is really bad."

Aewen nodded and rushed to do as Nestad told her. She hated to see so many people injured and in pain. The first patient she came to was a boy no older than fifteen. He had a large, gaping wound on his stomach, and there was blood trickling from his mouth. Aewen put her hand over her own mouth. She had told Nestad that she was fine at the sight of blood. But in truth she had never seen so much of it before. She could even smell it. "Nestad…" she said softly. "This boy…he looks like he's dying…"

Nestad swore softly as he broke away from the pregnant woman, promising softly to return quickly. Taking the distance in the longest strides he could manage, he rested his hands on Aewen's shoulders and gently steered her to one side. "Hello, young man," he murmured softly, taking the boy's hands and closing his eyes. "What on Arda happened to you?" He winced as the boy's body answered. "I told them those fence posts were too sharp…do they ever listen?"

Aewen clenched her jaw and shut her eyes tight. She was glad that Nestad was there. But she remembered that there were others who needed help as well. So she left the elf's side and went to the next bed. There was an older man in this bed, and he had cut his hand pretty badly. "Here, let me help you," she said softly to him. She grabbed one of the bandages that Nestad had pointed to earlier, and wrapped it tightly around the man's hand and then held it for a moment. "It will be all right, sir," she said. "It's not too deep, and you still have all your fingers."

Nestad noticed dimly that Aewen was gone, but couldn't focus much attention on it at the moment. He was too busy debating with Mandos for this child's spirit. At last, he let out a tired sigh of relief and released the boy's hand. The child was breathing easier now, and his skin was a normal shade of pink. Even as Nestad watched, the stomach wound closed and the child's eyes flickered open. "Welcome back, young one," he said gently.

Aewen went to the next bed over and sat down on the edge. She looked carefully at the form that lay there, and knew without even checking for a pulse that it was too late for the young girl, who couldn't even be any older than Aewen herself. She took the young girl's cold hand in hers and closed her eyes. "Rest now, sweet one," she said softly. "You are at peace…"

Nestad went back to the pregnant woman and continued his work, but not without a small thrill as he noticed Aewen speaking a blessing over a dead girl. Aewen was adjusting wonderfully, he thought as he settled to the task of protecting the unborn child. The mother had been kicked in the stomach by an ox, but neither the child nor the mother were dead, thank the Valar. He just needed to stabilize both of them.

After sitting with the dead girl for a moment, Aewen drew the sheet up over the still face. Then she got up and went to the next and last bed that held a patient, at least for now. This patient was a little boy about eight years old. He was sitting up in the bed, but Aewen could see that his foot was bleeding. "What's wrong, sweetie?" she asked, sitting down beside him.

Once the mother and child were safe, Nestad moved his attention to the man with the cut hand. Hands were tricky to heal, but he'd gotten very good at them in the last few days; around all of this dangerous equipment, hands and feet were the things most commonly injured. The hand was whole in a matter of moments, and the healer joined Aewen at the young boy's bed as the boy replied tearfully, "Stepped on a raking blade, ma'am."

Aewen glanced up at the elf when he approached. "Well, the healer will make you all well again," she said to the boy. "Have no fear."

Nestad squeezed Aewen's shoulder gently as he said, "You have done well. Rest for a moment before more patients come in." He sat beside the boy and gently took the bleeding foot in hand. "Those raking blades do a good job of it, don't they?" he asked teasingly, letting his power slide into the boy.

The boy's tears turned to giggles. "That tickles!" he snuffled, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

"Hold still a moment longer," Nestad cautioned as the skin pulled together under his hands. "Then you can run on to your mother."

Aewen watched with amazement as the foot was healed. Elves truly were blessed. She sat down on an empty bed, loving the feel of the softness under her. She lay down for a moment, closing her eyes, figuring that she should take advantage of the bed while she had a chance.

The foot was finished a moment later and the boy dashed out, tears and pain forgotten. Nestad watched him go with a smile. He loved children. His eyes became serious as he looked at the bed with the drawn sheet. He went to the door flap and opened it. "I have a dead one I need to take to the burial site," he said. The guards grumbled, but didn't dare stop him. After his arrival and his methods of healing had been put into place, disease in the camp had gone down nearly a hundred percent. Smiling slightly, Nestad went back to collect the dead girl. "Aewen, come with me," he called. "You should see where the corpses are placed."

Aewen opened her eyes and sat up reluctantly. Oh well, she knew that her rest would be short. She joined the elf. "Must I really see that?" she asked.

"It is hard to see," the healer replied quietly as he ducked under the open tent flap, girl in arms. "But I think you do need to see it. Many die here, even with all I can do. I try not to keep the bodies in the tent longer than needed, as that's begging for disease to come calling. I might need you to take a body out here, and you should see exactly how they are buried."

Aewen didn't say anything to that, but she swallowed hard, feeling a bit of anxiety. She? Bury a body? She had never done that before, and she didn't know if she could. But she followed the elf without question, trusting him.

Nestad led the way to an open pit and, leaning back a bit to keep his balance, descended to the bottom via a thin slope. "Here we are," he said, setting the dead body down gently and picking up a shovel.

Aewen watched from the edge of the pit, not sure if she should follow the elf down the slope. How would she ever do this on her own?

"Walking it now will help you to do it when you are alone," Nestad remarked, starting to dig. "I am sorry this is a bit tricky, but I asked for this specifically to keep most people out."

Aewen wrapped her arms around herself and stared down into the pit. She had a fear of heights-not too severe, but there nonetheless. "Uh…are you sure I'll need to do this on my own?" she asked, feeling very bad about it.

Nestad stopped digging and ascended to the top of the pit again, taking the distance easily, despite his chained legs. "You may not need to," he said quietly, standing slightly beside and behind her. "I can never be sure about something like death rates. But you might need to. Come." He extended his hand to her. "If it will help, I will walk down with you."

Aewen bit her lip as anxiety began to knot in her stomach. She looked up at him with an almost pleading expression, as if to say 'do I really have to?'

"Trust me," the elf whispered. "Have I led you wrong yet?" His hand remained out to her as his compassionate eyes remained on her face.

It looked like he wasn't going to let her off the hook about it. She took a deep breath and grasped his hand. Her heart was pounding and her hands began to shake. She wasn't usually this afraid of heights; but the fact that her feet were chained and she was afraid of tipping made her more terrified than she would normally be. And perhaps it was also the knowledge that if she fell she would be falling into a grave. It was all working against her at the moment. And she also felt humiliated about it.

Nestad walked backwards, guiding her to the beginning of the downward path. He could feel her fingers trembling in his grip. As they began descending into the pit, he murmured to her in soft Elvish, though he knew she probably didn't understand more than a tiny fraction of what he said. In his experience, humans found the Grey Tongue soothing, even when they didn't understand. He was careful to lead her slowly, not making her work to take each step.

Aewen took slow, small steps, grateful that he was letting her go at her own pace. His soft murmurings were indeed soothing. Her breathing became labored as her nervousness increased, but she saw that they were nearly at the bottom, and now the distance to fall was not so far. When there were only a couple feet to go, she quickly stepped off the slope, and then held tightly to the elf's hands to steady herself. "I'm sorry," she whispered, casting her gaze to the ground at her feet. "I've always been afraid of heights."

Changing smoothly back to Common, Nestad released one of her hands and gently lifted her chin. "There is no shame in it," he said quietly. "Being around the dead does not make it any easier, and I understand that. Take no shame. Everyone fears something."

She couldn't help but smile ever so slightly. "Thank you," she whispered. "And thank you for your help."

In that moment, looking up at him with trust in her eyes and a small smile on her mouth, Aewen was the most beautiful woman in the world to Nestad. He smiled back and replied whole-heartedly, "It was my honor." He had to release her or he would kiss her right then, and in a gravesite was not the best place. He turned back to the shovel, stuck where he had left it.

Aewen moved to the side of the pit to watch. She looked at the dead girl lying in the dirt. "How did she die?" she asked softly. "Do you know?"

"Best as I can sense, a disease that wasted her from the inside out. I have seen it several times since coming here. The slaves are not brought to me because there are no symptoms worse than perhaps a light fever." Nestad's words were punctuated by the sound of his shovel thrusting into the dirt and throwing shovelfuls to one side.

"A disease…" Aewen said softly. "And so young too…" She shook her head. "She must be no older than I am. Such a shame…"

Pausing for a moment, Nestad looked at Aewen. "It is a shame," he said quietly. "I try to check those most susceptible to the disease every evening, but last evening, I was in that cell." He sighed. "And the lass paid the price."

Aewen clenched her teeth as she felt emotion rising up. She would not let herself tear up over this. She didn't even know that girl. But it was just the fact that a young life had come to an end, without ever having the happy future she had dreamed for herself…how could it not move someone? Aewen didn't say anything else, since any further conversation would only delay their leaving this awful place.

Silence reigned over the pit as Nestad finished digging the grave for the young woman, letting Aewen gather her composure. Setting his shovel aside, the healer picked up the stiffening corpse and carried her over to the grave. "You should watch, Aewen," he said quietly, well aware of her emotions. He felt a good measure of them himself. It was always hard when someone died, especially since, from the view of the elf, the victim was barely an infant. He had learned how to continue working, even through the pain. "This is the part that prevents disease," he added.

Aewen came forward, her arms wrapped around herself (something she always did when she didn't feel good about something).

Nestad lowered the body into the hole and picked up a small sealed jar kept in the pit. Opening it, he kept his face away from the opening, as the substance within worked havoc with his senses. Pulling out a handful, he sprinkled the powder over the corpse. "This is a mixture of lime and calcium," he explained quietly. "It helps contain any diseases within this grave." Picking up the shovel again, he filled in the hole and patted the dirt smooth. Leaning on the shovel, he spoke a few lines in Elvish, his eyes looking first at the fresh grave, then at the sky.

Aewen bowed her head in respect as the elf spoke over the grave. She didn't know what he was saying, but she guessed he was blessing the dead and wishing her peace. Aewen hugged herself tighter, feeling a strange chill, even though the sun was shining brightly.

Nestad finished and set the shovel back in its place under a lip of the pit. "We should return to the tent," he said quietly. "I do not know how many have gathered in our absence." He reached out and took her hand in his, gripping the hand firmly to try and reassure her.

Aewen nodded and held onto his hand, knowing that now she would have to go back up that narrow slope. But going up was always easier than going down.

Their journey back to the top was shorter; Aewen was a bit more confident on the path this time, so the pair didn't have to go as slowly. At the top, Nestad paused to look at Aewen. "Are you all right?" he asked quietly.

She nodded and offered a slight smile. She was just glad that was over with. How she would ever do all that on her own she didn't know.

"All right," he said quietly. "I need to work a quick charm over both of us so we don't carry any disease from this place back to the healing tent. Is that all right?"

Aewen nodded, feeling a little nervous about that. So she was about anything having to do with things she couldn't understand. And working charms and healing with strange powers were things she couldn't understand. But she trusted him. He had not done anything to harm her yet.

The charm was only a few words, and was soon done. "We may now return," he said quietly, gently squeezing the hand still in his. "That was not so bad, was it?"

Aewen raised her eyebrows in surprise. "No, it wasn't. What did you do? I didn't even feel anything."

Nestad smiled. "That is the mark that it worked well. Essentially, I just ordered the elements that cause disease to go from our bodies, hair and clothes. They are gone; I felt them leave."

"But how do you do that? It's magic, isn't it? Do all elves practice magic?"

Nestad tugged her hand, getting her to walk as he explained, "All elves have some… 'magic', as humans call it. We call it 'power', or just refer to the effects with the knowledge that all know what we mean. Some, however, have a talent in certain areas and train to develop that area fully. I have trained for a long time by your reckoning and have learned much."

"So…it is not magic then? Not like the magic that wizards or sorcerers have?"

"No, not like, say, Mithrandir's magic. The difference is difficult to see, but it is there."

Aewen thought about that as they walked. And when she looked up, they were arriving at the tent. She sighed quietly, wishing she didn't have to go back in there. But she guessed it was better than anything else they would put her to do. So she didn't complain about it.

Nestad squeezed her hand reassuringly before releasing it and entering the tent before her. He looked around. The pregnant woman, the older man and the young man he had treated earlier were all gone, their beds taken by new patients. Two more beds were occupied besides. Nestad sighed and looked at Aewen. "Ready to continue?" he asked with a rueful smile.

She gave him a nervous smile and nodded. "As ready as I'll ever be," she said.

They spent the rest of the morning working together, Aewen doing what she could for the wounded and sick and Nestad finishing the work and dealing with the serious cases personally. The bell signaling the lunch break came as a relief to the elf as he straightened from the last patient. "Lunch time," he told Aewen quietly.

Aewen breathed a sigh of relief. She had gotten more accustomed to working around the sick and injured, but still, she was more than ready for a break. "Do we eat out here or in our cell?" she asked.

"Neither," Nestad replied, stretching his back. "We eat outside, under guard, with the other slaves."

"Oh," Aewen nodded. She hoped that the food was better than it had been the night before. But she guessed it probably wouldn't be.

Nestad led the way to the general eating area and guided her to a seat beside his. The food wasn't long in coming: lentil stew with a stale roll and some overripe fruit. It wasn't an Autumn Feast, but it was better than cell fare.

Aewen was pleasantly surprised by the food, and, since she was nearly starving by now, dug right in. She dipped her roll into the soup before eating it, and that made it more palatable. As she ate, she didn't even pay attention to what was going on around her. Food was her business now.

Nestad, however, watched the area around him warily even as he ate. Aewen's presence caused a quiet ripple of surprise to go through the slaves and a louder ripple of what, for the overseers, counted as admiration. The fact that she ate with the lone elf caused even more surprise on both sides.

"Do we get anything to drink?" Aewen asked after a moment.

"Yes." Nestad tapped the shoulder of the slave beside him. "Pass the water jug, please." It came down after a moment, and Nestad poured for Aewen and himself.

"Thank you," Aewen breathed. She felt so parched after working all day without anything to drink. She drank deeply all the water, and when she was done, instead of wiping her mouth on her sleeve as a peasant woman might have done, she dabbed her lips with her fingers.

"That is a tendency you might want to lose," Nestad murmured, leaning close. "It gives you away to those with eyes."

"What?" she said, not understanding what he meant.

Nestad imitated the mouth-patting motion and shook his head slightly. "A true peasant woman would wipe her mouth on her sleeve."

"Oh…" Aewen blushed. "I didn't even realize I was doing it. It's just habit, you know?"

"I do know," Nestad nodded. "I'll let you know when you do something that gives you away, all right?"

She smiled slightly. "Thank you," she said.

The meal ended shortly after that, the guards herding everyone back to their work. Nestad remained sitting for a moment longer, gathering his strength. Sighing, he rose. "Come," he said quietly, "before the guards get a bearing on you."

"For how long are we going to continue working?" Aewen asked as they walked back to the tent.

"As long as the daylight lasts, or until we are finished with the last patient. I want to make the rounds to check for that disease before we finish for the night."

Aewen nodded and sighed. She was already weary, not used to so much work. But again, she wouldn't complain. She followed the elf back to the tents and was disheartened when she saw nearly half of the beds full again.

Nestad hesitated just inside the door. "Aewen, do you need some of my strength?" he asked quietly. "I'm used to this, and a little less strength will not hurt me."

Aewen shook her head. "No, it's all right," she said. "I'll be fine. You keep your strength for them. I'm only a little tired, it won't kill me."

"As you say. But if you feel yourself getting too tired, let me know and I will help as I can." The healer gripped the maiden's elbow gently.

She nodded. "I will," she said, though she didn't have any intention of doing so. He was helping her too much, and she couldn't do anything to repay him. She was a crippled child next to him and his abilities.

"I will hold you to that," Nestad said teasingly before releasing her and setting to work.

Aewen smiled with one side of her mouth and followed him.

The day slipped away as case after case came under Nestad's capable hands. By the time the sun set, he knew having Aewen was invaluable. She, in her sweetly innocent way, helped him, giving him strength with a smile, a look in his direction. At last, he was finished with the last case. "That's it," he announced, walking to where Aewen worked.

Aewen looked up at him and smiled at his words. "Ohh…" she groaned with relief and collapsed back onto an empty bed, her arms spread eagle. "I'm going to miss these rather soft beds," she said. "Would they let us smuggle a blanket back to the cell?"

Nestad laughed as he perched on the edge of the bed Aewen lay upon. "I doubt it," he said. "They seem determined to break me, at least, by depriving me of basic creature comforts. We should be back here tomorrow. If there are not many patients, you can take a nap on these 'rather soft beds'."

Aewen giggled, looking up at the ceiling of the tent. "If only it could be true," she said. "That would be nearly heaven."

"We shall see what tomorrow brings. In the meantime, we have one more stop before returning to our lovely cell." Nestad's face clouded a bit. "Aewen…" he hesitated.

She looked down at him. "What?" she asked, not sure if she liked his sudden change of tone.

"The disease that killed the lass earlier…did I ever mention who exactly is susceptible?"

Aewen shook her head. "No…I don't think so. Why?"

"Because the part of the camp where I will need to check for the disease is the part where the soldiers keep the women they…use. Prostitutes are generally the ones who get the disease." Nestad's eyes remained level. As a healer, he'd seen many things in his life. He was concerned about Aewen and her reaction to such things. "If you want, I can leave you in a safe place and go alone…" he offered.

Aewen hesitated. She didn't want to be left alone. But she didn't really want to go with him either. "Ehh…" She looked at him with uncertainty in her eyes.

"It is up to you," he said quietly. "It is not a pretty sight, nor an easy one. But I find it worthwhile if I can keep a woman from dying like the lass this morning."

Aewen nodded. "I will go with you," she said. "I don't want to be left alone, unarmed."

Nestad's mouth twitched at the addition of 'unarmed'. "Nor do I wish to leave you alone. Come." He stood up and offered her a hand up.

Aewen smiled slightly, noticing how he was always offering her his hand. But she didn't mind; in fact, it was rather nice. She took it gladly and stood, glancing back longingly at the bed.

"I know," the healer smiled. "I wish I could help you sleep comfortably for one night. But, that is not to be." Still holding her hand, he led her to the entrance, where the guards waited with the shackles. "I have one more stop to make before my day is over," Nestad said coolly, drawing Aewen behind his tall frame.

"Oh? And where's that?" the head guard asked.

"The whore pits," Nestad replied, not batting an eyelash. He hated that term, but that was what they understood.

"What, the new wench not doin' it for ye anymore?" The coarse laughter was cut off sharply as Nestad leveled his icy stare on them.

"I need to go there," he repeated tonelessly. "That is, of course, if you wish me to continue healing the slaves?" he added, arching a dark eyebrow.

If it were not for Nestad blocking her path, Aewen would have stepped forward and struck the guard across the face for the insult he had just given her. She would have probably received a harsh beating for it too, but in that moment she didn't care. She was quite angered.

The guards sighed. "Oh, all right," the leader replied. "But make it fast." He turned sharply and led the way toward the part of the camp where the 'ladies of the night' waited.

Nestad turned and gripped Aewen's elbows. "We are not in Gondor, my lady," he whispered. "Here, you could be killed for even thinking of touching a guard. Try to remember that."

She nodded, looking straight into his eyes. How serious they were. She knew she would do well to heed his words.

"All right." Nestad released the hold he had on her and touched her shoulder reassuringly. "Then come, let's see what waits for us." He followed the guards, who'd stopped to watch the exchange between the healer and his new assistant with interest.

Aewen walked beside the elf in silence, humbled by his words to her. He had such authority over her, and she barely knew him. How could it be? Was it because he was an elf? Maybe so, but she respected him and what he had to say. And she trusted him somehow, even from the beginning, though she didn't really have any reason to, at least not right after meeting him. Why was he different from any other man she knew other than her father and brother? Was it just because he was an elf?

The small group reached the 'whore pits' a few moments later. It reeked here all the time; Nestad had gotten used to it, though his senses still rebelled at the idea of entering that place. The guards took the healer and the maid to the main tent, where the commander of the warriors was. "Sir, the healer demanded to come," he said, bowing slightly.

The commander sat up and glared at Nestad as the elf stepped forward slightly. "What is it, elf?" he asked, boredom radiating from him.

"Another woman was lost to the wasting disease," Nestad replied. "I want to check the women for the disease."

Aewen moved to hide behind Nestad when the commander looked at them. She didn't like his look at all. It was full of hate when directed at the elf, and full of lust when directed at her. Aewen's skin crawled.

Nestad reached behind himself to find Aewen's hand. "It's all right," he murmured softly. "You're here under my protection."

"Very well, if you must. Some of the men are in there already," the commander remarked, moving his head to try and see around the elf.

"I will do what I can," Nestad said coolly.

Aewen held tightly to Nestad's hand, glad for his support. She was dreading going in where there were other men.

The guards led the two through the flaps of a smaller tent. The noises were everywhere, and Nestad could feel his hand going numb as Aewen squeezed tighter. Nestad looked around briefly, deciding something, before going to the closest partitioned-off area and knocking politely. A male voice growled, "What?"

"Excuse me, but I need to do a routine check on the woman you are with," Nestad said, his voice calm.

"Best hurry, then."

"Close your eyes," Nestad advised Aewen before leading the way into the area.

Aewen shook her head and tried letting go of his hand. "I don't want to go in," she whispered. She was beginning to feel sick to her stomach.

Nestad paused, glancing around the area. Aside from the guards who'd accompanied them, the area was empty. "Very well," he whispered back. "Stay close to the entrance and shout if something happens."

Aewen nodded, wrapping her arms around herself tightly. This was worse than working with the dead, she decided.

Nestad was in and out in a few moments' time and headed to the next area. He continued systematically until he'd checked all but one. The last woman was alone, and Nestad was beginning to become afraid for Aewen. More men had trickled in and were eyeing her. "Aewen, this one is alone," he said quietly.

Aewen was on the verge of tears by now, having to endure the looks of the men when they entered. And standing there and being forced to listen to all the sounds of passion, and knowing that not a bit of it was made with gladness. She was beginning to feel light-headed, and had nearly run out of the tent on more than one occasion. When she looked up at Nestad, her face was pale. Alone or not, all she wanted to do was get out of that tent.

Nestad's heart melted at that expression. Without thinking, he stepped forward, protecting her from the gazes of the soldiers with his body, and gently touched her face. "Aewen," he whispered. "I know you are strong. This is hard, but I think you can make it." His heart wanted nothing more than to gather her into his arms and hold her safe from the world. "We will be done after I finish checking this woman."

She nodded. "I'll just stay out here," she said softly, her voice catching in her throat. She swallowed hard and clenched her jaw.

"All right. Shout if something happens," he murmured, gently cupping her face in his hands before releasing her and entering the area where the last woman was. Just his luck: this woman had the disease. Letting out a frustrated mental groan, the elf explained to her that he was a healer and that she had a disease he could cure. She didn't have a choice, but knowing what was happening made it, he hoped, a bit easier.

Aewen waited outside the partition, touching her own cheeks. Her skin still tingled a bit from when Nestad touched her there. So it was every time he touched her. It was as if he had constant energy flowing through him. So much that it needed to be released every time his skin came in contact with anything else. As she stood there, she very clearly noticed that this check-up was taking longer than the others. And she also noticed a man leering at her from across the room. All the other women were taken, and he was tired of waiting. Aewen got nervous the moment he stood up and began to move in her direction.

Nestad focused on the woman before him, his heart breaking for her. She was so young, maybe only fifteen by human years, possibly even younger. And if he didn't do something, she would be dead before the week was out. That was sufficient motivation. He rested a hand on her bare shoulder, feeling how she flinched at his touch, and began eradicating the disease from her body.

Aewen shifted uneasily as the man approached her. "Hey, precious," he said, eyeing her up and down. "You're pretty." He reached out to touch her hair, and she backed away from him.

"You stay away from me!" she said.

Nestad's head snapped up as he finished the healing and heard Aewen's voice from just outside. "May the Valar help you," he murmured to the girl as he headed out as fast as his bound legs would let him. He sized up the situation quickly and put himself between Aewen and the man hitting on her. "She is not one of these," he said coldly.

The man laughed. "Sure she is," he said. "She's in here, isn't she?"

"She is my assistant. She has a purpose here other than to be used." Nestad stood to his full height, staring the man down. "Stay away from her."

The man narrowed his eyes at the elf. "Then don't bring her here next time," he said with contempt. "Someday she will be again mistaken for the whore she should be. She doesn't belong here otherwise." He spit at Nestad's feet and turned and left.

Nestad mentally wished all sorts of curses on the man as he turned to Aewen. "Did he touch you?" he asked, his voice becoming gentle. "Come, let us leave this place," he added, pulling aside the tent flap and steering her out gently.

Aewen gladly went with him, and when she was in the fresh air again, she rubbed her arms vigorously, as if to rid herself of the filth she had been exposed to. She shuddered with the 'creeps', as her father always used to call it. "Please don't take me in there again," she said softly.

"No fear of that," the healer murmured. "Did he touch you?" he repeated, touching her shoulder gently. He was surprised by the possessive sense that overwhelmed him, threatening to kill the soldier if he had so much as laid a finger on the beautiful woman before him.

Aewen shook her head. "No, he didn't," she said softly. She drew a ragged breath and bowed her head as she instinctively leaned closer to him, feeling a safeness with him that was very comforting.

Nestad moved his hand around her shoulders, gently pressing her closer into an awkward hug. "Thank the Valar," he murmured.

Aewen closed her eyes tightly, feeling her throat clenching with emotion, and she was trying very hard not to cry. She had her own arms wrapped around herself as she leaned into his embrace, resting her forehead against his chest. This had been an awful day, and all she wanted to do was go back to the cell, sleep, and try to pretend she was somewhere else.

Nestad's other arm wrapped around the small woman, pressing her protectively against himself. He began talking quietly in Elvish, speaking of things both nonsensical and sweet in his gently lilting accent as one hand gently stroked her black hair.

Aewen slowly relaxed as she listened to his soothing voice, keeping her eyes closed for a moment in this little bubble of peace. She guessed that if she hadn't met Nestad, she would already have been dead in this place. "Let's go," she whispered after a minute or two.

"Back to our cozy safe cell, hm?" Nestad teased gently, releasing her reluctantly. The guards had remained inside the tent until the moment he released the maid, which he counted as fortunate. They clamped the shackles around their wrists and led them back to the staircase leading to their underground cell. They had already decided it would be a good idea to keep the healer and the maid together; they always had a lever to make the elf do as they wanted.

When they were back in their cell, Aewen sat down and leaned against the hard, cold stone wall. She sighed wearily and closed her eyes. "I don't think I'll have any trouble sleeping this time," she said.

"After all you have seen, I am glad to hear it." Nestad remained standing, letting his natural light flood out a bit brighter, checking all corners for anything that wasn't there before.

"Do we go out tomorrow also?" Aewen asked, her eyes still closed. Her voice showed that she was getting drowsy pretty fast.

"That depends on them. Given the large number of injuries recently, probably." Nestad sat beside Aewen and watched her carefully. She still looked pale, but who wouldn't be after everything? Other than that, she felt all right, if very tired. His arms ached to hold her again. To prevent that, he crossed them as best as he could and leaned back against the wall.

"Mmm…" Aewen murmured, now half asleep. "I hope…it's not as long…" She shifted her position, wrapping her arms around herself again, only this time to keep warm, since it was very cold in the cell. A moment later she was sound asleep.

Nestad sat silently for a moment, aching to hold her close and keep her warm. At last, telling himself it was just because he didn't want her to come down with something, he carefully slipped his bound arms around her and pulled her to rest against his chest.

Aewen leaned in closer to the warmth her unconscious body knew was there. She rested her cheek against his shoulder and sighed softly. She remained asleep. And gradually the lines in her face smoothed out, and a peaceful look came over her.

"Sleep well," the healer murmured before slipping into his elven sleep state, dreaming warm and dizzying dreams with the warmth of Aewen pressed against his side.