An- A Middle Earth Crisis Center worker? I love it! LOL! Okay Laer, I'm so using that somewhere before this story is over, so you've been warned! Tanyway, that's my little blip for now…on to the important-esque stuff! Okay, don't let this seemingly out quick chapter fool you; school is back in (senior year baby!) and things will be really slow. I've had this one written for a few weeks, that's the only reason it was out so quick. So, there…you've been warned! Now go and enjoy!

Chapter 21

"Our brother's alive!"

The two young girls, whom Niori had just realized were the two youngest princesses of Gondor, stared up at her with wide, shocked eyes. After a moment, the shock turned into a begging hope, and Niori's heart reached out to them.

They had thought that they were the only two left…that their entire family had been killed in the slaughter of Minas Tirith. They had had no idea that their big brother had escaped unharmed and was now helping to plan the saving of this world.

Niori, now that she knew who they were, couldn't help but wonder how she had missed the resemblance, even under the dirt and grim. The oldest, Silmarwen, looked just like her mother…a younger and at the moment more haggard version of Arwen. The youngest one, didn't have Arwen's obvious beauty, but resembled more that rugged appearance of her father, all the same…she would be beautiful one day when she was fully grown, but beautiful in the sense that Carla was beautiful; strong, tough and very Amazon…a wild, uncontrolled beauty.

"Eldarion's very alive," Niori replied, seeing the relief wash over the older one and the tears well up in the younger one's eyes, "he's kind of the leader of the allies (does this sound like Star Wars to anyone other than me?)…"

"We thought he died when the city burned! Oh Sil, he's alive!" the younger one cried happily, turning back to her sister with wide, gleaming eyes. After a moment, she turned back to Niori, her eyes huge and hopeful again, "What about any others! Mother, father…our two other sisters!"

Niori hesitated, not knowing how she could tell this child before her that the only members of her family that had survived were her brother miles away and the sister that sat beside her.

She saw the hesitation and the look on Niori's face and she knew that no others had survived. The joy and hope died out from her eyes and her lower lip began to tremble as she slid back down into the pit of despair.

"Arien, it's a miracle that even Eldarion survived the slaughter and is free," the older one told her little sister softly, yet Niori saw the painful tears shining in her hazel eyes, "We should be thankful that at least he is alive…that we are alive I suppose, even though I would welcome death if it were to come and claim me now."

"Don't say that!" Niori spoke suddenly, harshly, forgetting for a moment to whom she was speaking, "If you want to die, then they win! Don't you think that I feel it too…the helplessness, the disgust…the shame…the fear? I want it to end too, but I will not allow myself to wish for death; that would be letting them defeat me!"

Arien stared at her in wonder, while her sister regarded her a bit coolly, thinking that Niori had not had to endure months of this.

"Surely death would be better than this," Silmarwen replied in the same tone as Niori had just used.

"It probably would," Niori whispered, feeling her defences starting to go down, "but to admit it would be giving up…and that's just something I don't know how to do."

l.l.l.l.l

A scream ripped out of Niori's dry throat as the coarse leather struck her exposed, naked back. She felt the flesh tear, sounding in a sickening ripping sound that was nearly covered by the snap of the whip as it just kept cracking and cracking, ripping more and more holes into her skin.

The lashings, which she had lost count of once seven had passed, only added to the hundreds, wounds of all kinds, that had been spread across her entire body in the past four, horrific days.

Niori hugged the pole she was facing tightly, burying her face deeply into the side of the wood, hoping to smother her screams…the screams she wished she could stop herself from letting out.

She closed her eyes, tensing for the next blow, biting down on her lips so hard that within a few moments, she tasted the bitter, iron taste of blood trickling into her mouth. The tears behind her eyes stung, and the fact that that little bit of uncomfort seemed to hurt, made her want to cry even more.

Even when another lash of pain didn't come, Niori didn't open her eyes. She continued to wait, knowing that the sick bastard would take a very perverse pleasure in letting her think it was over and then starting all over again. Hell, he had done it an hour ago, while he was raping her.

She waited, and only when she heard his footsteps moving away from her did Niori let the tension flood out of her body and let her eyes, still clogged to the brim with uncried tears.

The blood seemed to be pouring down her destroyed back, and she wondered vaguely if there was any untouched skin left. Would her back, once part of her flawless (or so she had been told) body, be a mass of scared and ripped skin forever? Like nearly the rest of her was?

She attempted to sit up, to straighten her body even a little bit, but with the first inch of movement, her back screamed in such furious pain that it made her cry out in pain once more.

"Oh my fuck," she moaned, her sunburnt forehead leaning heavily against her pole as a wave of nausea tackled her stomach along with the demanding pain of her back.

Her head turned slightly to look at Silmarwen and Arien, who had been forced to sit only feet away while she was whipped, helpless to do anything but watch in horror. Silmarwen had her arms wrapped tightly around her little sister, who had her face buried into what was left of Sil's dress and her hands covering her ears, trying to block it all out. Sil had her eyes clamped together, her head turned away so she wouldn't have to look as Niori was tortured.

They're too young, Niori thought miserably never allowing the realization that she was too damn young to cross her mind, They should be giggling over cute boys and fawning over pretty dresses…not this.

"It's…you…" Niori started, unable to come up with the words, "He's gone."

At first, both of them refused to look; Arien kept her face buried deeply into her sister's dress while Silmarwen kept her face turned away and eyes closed. Eventually, Silmarwen's hazel eyes opened and she forced herself to look at Niori.

One look at her bloody and torn back and Silmarwen had to fight the urge to gag. She bluntly stared, unable to tare her eyes away no matter how much she wanted to. She couldn't look up at Niori's face, didn't dare see the pain and humiliation that would be present there. Days ago when Niori had vowed to never be broken, Sil hadn't believed her. Yet she had done just that, never showing them pain, or sadness, only rage and defiance. And Silmarwen didn't know how her own recovering hope would cope if she finally saw the person who had kindled it, broken down.

"It's okay Arien," Niori spoke in a clear voice to the young girl who was still hiding her face. She had seen the silent message in Silmarwen's eyes, and for the first time realized what she was…what she had become to them. It shocked Niori to the core that these two girls looked at her as though she was some symbol of hope. She only made herself look strong on the outside, when all she wanted to do was cry on the inside, "It's over."

Even as she spoke the soft, comforting words, she realized that she was choosing to take on a roles that she wasn't ready for nor did she think she could do. With the words she was going to say, she was making herself go from fellow captive to protector. Niori was going to choose a role that wouldn't allow her to show the pain she had just experienced in front of them…to promise them safety and hope…

To get them the hell away from this place alive.

Finally, Arien pulled herself away from her sister's grasp and hesitantly turned. When her gaze finally appeared on Niori, her eyes widened to the size of saucers and a choked gasp escaped from her parted lips.

"Your…your back," she whispered in horror, understanding now why Niori's screams had been so horrific, "It's…it's…"

"Nothing," Niori spoke, trying to force her voice to make it sound no so obvious that she was lying, "It's nothing."

No matter how distressed Silmarwen had been a moment ago, she was broken out of it as she 'hmphed' at Niori's obvious lie.

"Had it been 'nothing'," Silmarwen replied, her voice authoritarian, "You would not have been screaming as though you were being burned alive."

Niori started to protest, when Silmarwen cut her off with a cool glance and then with a commanding words.

"This is not the time to argue about such a thing! Unless you want to bleed to death slowly by the gashes on your back, I suggest we find a way to stop the bleeding."

Niori's eyebrow went up, about to ask how Silmarwen expected to do that. She didn't mean to be her old sarcastic self, but Niori couldn't help but think 'What's the kid going to do, slap a big band aid on it and call it a day?'

Silmarwen's eyes scanned around them expertly, stopping only when her eyes rested on what remained of Arien's dress.

"Rip off the bottom of your dress off Arien," Sil told her, and Arien's face scrunched up in confusion.

"What?"

"The material of your dress off Arien," Sil replied impatiently, pointing to the thin and worn part at the bottom of Arien's dress, which was far beyond ruin, "I need it torn into long stripes."

With a confused look still on her face, Arien took the material into her hands and tore it off, the ripping sound causing a sickly shiver to travel through Niori; that resembled the exact sound of her ripping skin from minutes ago.

When Arien handed the first, dirty strip to Sil, she dipped in the small water bowl (it was only a little water and they received barely enough food too, for the soul purpose of they wanted them weak, but not dead) and then rung it out.

"They'll still be dirty, so the risk of infection is still there," Sil told Niori, her attention focused on putting the wet strip on one of the lashes, "but at least this way they won't be open and will be able to close."

Niori sat in silence as Silmarwen applied even more strips to each individual lash. It hurt, and Niori had to grit her teeth anytime an open wound was touched, but after a moment, the west cloth seemed to sooth the burning skin.

"This way," Silmarwen continued, "the blood in the wound itself can be soaked into the cloth and the blood that is everywhere else can be cleaned. Of course, the bandages will have to be changed, fairly regularly most likely."

Niori sat there in a stunned-like silence, wondering how the hell Silmarwen knew this. This girl, was fourteen to Niori's twenty years, knew more about healing than Niori ever had…and had it been up to Niori, she would have suggested iodine and a bandage and ended up looking like an idiot. Hell, even Arien looked shocked that her sister knew all this!

"How the hell do you know that?"

"My father taught me," Silmarwen replied, trying to keep her voice tight, but with the mere reminder of her father brought her close to tears, "he thought, not to sound vain, and I agreed with him, that I seemed to posses a talent and inclination towards healing. Since the age of ten he showed me much of what he knew, including how to heal whip lashings."

"Well damn," Niori murmured to herself, a faint smile tracing along her lips as she remembered Aragorn using those talents to save her own life, and then imagining him teaching this little girl how to heal, "and here I thought that princesses were just supposed to sit around and look pretty."

"Then you don't know princesses of Gondor very well," Arien told her with a tiny smile, speaking for the first time in a long time.

"Yeah," Niori replied after a moment's hesitation, "So far I've only made a couple of kings. And until now never a princess."

"Well we've never been ones to just sit there and look pretty, as you put it," Arien told her matter-of-factly, "though, the ones who received their appearance from mother did look beautiful no matter what they did, sitting or otherwise."

Niori heard that quiet bitterness on her voice, and wonder how many of Aragorn's four daughters had won the genetic lottery and come out looking like Arwen. Silmarwen sure had…but from the looking Arien's eyes, it looked as though she was either the only one, or one of the few, besides Elderion, who resembled their father (why was that a problem, Niori wondered, Aragorn was pretty good damn looking himself…)

"I think Aragorn might've been offended if you figured looking like him is such a horrible thing," Niori told Arien with raised eyebrows, causing the girl to blush a bit, "and now that I think of it, Elderion too, since he is a mirror image."

"I didn't mean-" Arien started, but Silmarwen cut her off, her voice making it seem like this conversation had happened many times before.

"You have yet to come into your appearance Arien; you're but twelve years! You must give it time!"

"Believe me…at twelve everyone looks terrible!" Niori reassured her, at this moment realizing just how normal this conversation was, "I had a curly top, huge glasses, braces and was flat as hell."

Arien still looked sceptical, but at least she seemed a little more reassured.

"I suppose…Elbereth was more of father's nature, and she was still lovely," Arien conceded, and then turned to look at Niori, "she was our oldest sister, and father always said that she was just like you in many was; she was very stubborn, had a fiery temper and tended to be cynical about everything. Whenever father was angry with her, he'd always go around grumbling that even though he'd married mother, he'd somehow ended up with a daughter that was all Niori."

Niori couldn't help but chuckle as she could actually hear Aragorn's voice grumbling that in her head. A moment later, tears filled her eyes as she wished for one last moment in which she could actually see him again and hear him grumble it in person.

My God Aragorn, she thought, I wish you hadn't had to die…I miss you Damnit! I didn't love you the way Jane did, but I loved you in my own way anyway; you looked over us all, and made sure nothing bad happened to us. You fought beside me, and more than once saved my sorry ass…

"She stayed with him until the end," Silmarwen spoke softly, bringing Niori out of her thoughts, "Even after Eomer came and tried to bring us all to safety, she would not stop fighting at his side, trying to defend our people…the only thing that stopped her from fighting was her last breath."

"She was very brave," Niori replied softly, admiration going out the young woman, whom she had never met, but who had died so bravely defending those she loved.

"Perhaps another reason father compared her to you," Silmarwen replied simply, but her eyes portrayed the sadness she really felt, mixed in with respect and hope.

It struck Niori that, although sad, this conversation could very well have been a conversation they could have had anywhere…anywhere that wasn't an enemy camp. This wasn't the hopeless conversations of the last four days, but here was one that was breaking a sort of barrier; this was a conversation that was normal…that had a bit of hope in it, and that it wasn't just 'I want this to be over' and 'I want to die'.

This was progress…getting back to being people again.

Arien opened her mouth to add something to her sister's statement, but suddenly fear ran through her eyes as grew wide and a choked off cry escaped from her dry throat.

Niori turned her head to face the direction where Arien faced, and when she did, fear and dread laced through every inch of her body.

She instantly knew that the man who was coming towards them was coming for her. She could see it in the way his sneering eyes were pointed right on her.

Niori felt as though she was going to be sick, but she knew that she had to hide that and turn back to these girls and say something…say something to make them feel strong; to make her look strong.

Forcing every inch of fear out of her face, she turned back to Silmarwen and Arien. They both looked at her with large eyes that said they would have done anything to save her from this.

"You have to be brave," Niori told them, not knowing if this was meant for them or herself, "just be brave."

A moment later, Niori was ripped to her feet, her back screaming in so much pain that blackness came to the corners of her eyes and threatened to take her.

She wished she could take the advice she had just given the girls, because she knew what was going to happen, and she was scared as hell.

l..l.l.l.l.l

AN- So…we have a new healer on the playing field eh? One with all Aragorn's skills? Wow…you know what, that might just be useful with this epidemic that's spreading…you know, if Silmarwen and the other girls make it back to the village to help! That's a somewhat of a tidbit for future chapters, so there…enjoy the hint!