Running
Waking Up

The captain stood watch over the strange girl as she slept. Apart from waking every now and then for a few moments at a time, she had slept non- stop for the rest of the day. This was partly because of her exhaustion and also because of the draught that had been poured down her throat when she had woken. The girl stirred and moaned in her sleep then, a deep frown appeared on her face. The young man wondered what she was dreaming of as he sat down against the trunk of a tree opposite her. He slipped into thought.

Who was this girl who had such fury in her heart? What was she doing here? Where did she come from? Many questions swam in the man's mind and he hoped he would be able to find the answers to them once the girl awoke. He was impatient to find out more about her but he did not want to wake her up, she looked like she needed the rest. One of the many strange things about the girl was her appearance; she wore men's clothes, a shirt and a pair of trousers and had a belt around her waist which had previously held a knife. None of these clothes fitted her, they were all too big and there were many rips and tears in them. What he found especially strange was that she did not have any shoes.

Whilst the young man was thinking the girl began to stir more often. This escaped his notice because he was so deep in thought. He was jolted to his senses when the girl woke abruptly with a scream.

The girl's cry echoed through the clearing in which they rested, making many of the men jump and put their hands to their weapons. When they realised the girl was the source of the sound many of them looked at her in a questioning way, wondering why she had cause to scream.

The girl's head snapped up and she had a look of terror on her face. She had obviously had a nightmare but the young captain wondered what it could have been about. It must have been something serious to have caused such strange behaviour. The girl stared straight ahead of her with the same far- away, dead look the captain had seen earlier. He just sat where he was, waiting for her to acknowledge him, which took quite a while.

The first thing the girl saw was the man sitting in front of her. Her eyes flicked over to the men around the campfire, she noticed that there were about thirty of them, then back to the man. The man stood and took a step towards her. She tried to get up but found that she couldn't move. When she looked around she found that she was sitting against a young tree and her hands were bound at the other side of its trunk; that was the reason she couldn't move. As the man came nearer she tried to back away from him, pushing herself with her left leg; her right one didn't want to work.

The captain felt slightly guilty about frightening the girl in this way, about tying her up but he could not trust her. She was fast and strong and he felt he could not turn his back on her for a second unless she was bound. He was now standing directly in front of her, looking down at her and receiving an icy glare. The girl was quite harmless at the moment and at the captain's mercy, but the look she gave him still unnerved him. She turned her head away and looked at the floor as he started to speak.

"I am Faramir, Captain of Gondor. I wish to know your business in these lands." His voice was stern and commanding. He waited for an answer from the girl but none came.

"I asked you what business you have in our lands." His tone was angrier and threatening.

Still the girl did not reply she just stayed how she was, staring at the ground. The captain grew impatient and asked a simpler question.

"What is your name?" He lowered his voice but there was still strong authority evident in every syllable.

Before the girl had a chance to answer the captain was approached by one of his men, who she recognised as the one who had caught her earlier. The man whispered something to him and the captain nodded.

"Mablung is going to fetch you something to eat. He will stay with you for a while. Perhaps when I return, you will answer my questions." Again his voice was low and gentle, but still it was commanding.

Mablung had already left; the captain stood for a moment, looking at the girl before he turned around and followed Mablung back to the fire. He stopped and turned around when he heard a small voice.

"What?" He enquired, for he had not been able to make out the words, they were so low.

"Freyda," the girl replied, her voice no more than a whisper, "My name is Freyda." The captain looked at the girl once more before nodding curtly and going back to the camp.

************************************************************************

Mablung took the girl some food a little while later. She was sitting perfectly still with her head hung low, her eyes closed. She opened her eyes and slowly looked up as he approached. She saw that he was carrying a small plate with some bread on it and a tin cup. At the sight of the food, she smiled slightly. Mablung set the food on the floor in front of her and moved around behind her to untie the rope. Another man came and leant against a tree a few feet away. This was probably so she couldn't get up and run again but right now she had no chance of escape because she couldn't move her leg an inch. When the rope was untied, her arms swung forward and hit the ground. It took a lot of effort to lift them into her lap; they felt light and floppy, like the bones had disappeared.

The man who had been leaning on the tree stepped forward as Mablung retied the girl's hands in front of her. She did not move at all just sat still with her back resting against the tree, eyes closed. The men expected her to pounce on the food so they were both surprised that when Mablung drew back she stayed just where she was. After a few minutes it became apparent that she was not going to eat the food, or at least not 'til later, so Mablung went back to his seat by the fire. The other man however, remained where he was, looking down at the girl.

Eventually the girl looked up at the man and realised that he was a lot younger than she had first thought. From what she could see he had a handsome face and dark hair. It was hard to tell because it was dark and his hood was pulled up over his head. She guessed that he was a few years older than her, eighteen summers at the most. She could just make out his eyes and there was a strange look in them, maybe guilt but it also looked like there was something else. If it was guilt in his eyes, what was he feeling guilty about? All these things were observed and it felt like they were alone for a long time, although in reality they only locked eyes for a few seconds before the boy turned away and went to join Mablung and the other men around the fire.

The boy came back a few minutes later, carrying a bundle of things. He threw a knife down on the ground which caused the girl to panic for a moment until he sat down and spread the other things in front of him. In front of him there were some sticks, feathers and what looked like string. He picked up the knife and began to strip the bark off a few of the sticks. When he had stripped them of their bark he began to sharpen the end to a point using the knife with great speed and accuracy. After that he cut a small notch towards the top of each stick. Next he turned his attention to the large feathers he had brought. He split each one down the middle and flattened the quills. He then selected the right feather and the right stick, lined them up then lashed them together with the 'string'. As he tied the string off after lashing three feathers to the stick Freyda realised that it was too fine to be string, it was sinew. The first arrow was finished a few minutes after all the materials had been prepared.

Freyda soon grew tired of watching the boy fletch the arrows and returned to staring at her knees. She longed to change position, to get more comfortable but she just could not move her leg. It was like it was no longer attached. Her left leg felt dead because of sitting in the same position for so long but if it wasn't for the fact that she could see her right leg, Freyda would have wondered if it was still there. She thought back to when she had first felt the pain, lifting her head to look at the arrows again, and then she made the connection.

If nobody was near her when she was injured then she must have been hit from a range. Somebody had shot her while she was trying to run but she didn't understand why. She would have been caught anyway because the men who gave chase were much faster, so why did someone shoot at her? She found an answer straight away; they wanted to inflict pain on her. The arrow had obviously been taken out while she was asleep, but was the sleep simply caused by fatigue? Memories flashed into Freyda's mind. She remembered waking up with people standing over her, before falling asleep again. But there was something else she remembered, a thick liquid that had warmed her throat as it went down, leaving her feeling groggy and light-headed. She had not been awake to take the drink so they must have forced it upon her, there could be more of whatever it was in the food they had given her. She had been slightly suspicious when they had first given it to her but now she had absolutely no intention of eating any of it.

There was a thud as Freyda threw the mug and the bread as far as she could with her weak arms. The boy, who had been concentrating on his work, jumped up as the contents of the mug splashed over him. He glared at the girl, who lowered her head and tensed her shoulders, expecting a blow. When he saw how scared she was he softened and his expression returned to normal. He stepped forward and crouched in front of the girl, a soft look on his face.

"Why do you fear so?" He asked her.

Freyda did not answer and kept her head down. She would not speak to him, would not allow herself to be trapped by words. They would try to gain her trust by pretending that they cared about her well-being and she would end up telling them things that she shouldn't. They would make her trust them then they would take advantage of her, they would do anything they liked. She would not allow that to happen.

The boy was persistent; he would not leave Freyda until he found out what he wanted to know. He crouched lower like a frog, with his arms resting on his thighs trying to look at Freyda's face but she turned away so that he couldn't. She was thankful for her long hair because it fell down completely covering her face so that the boy couldn't see it at all. He put his hand on her shoulder, and felt her shudder at the unfamiliar touch.

"Your name is Freyda?" He asked in a low gentle voice.

Freyda gave a slight nod. The boy smiled slightly when she answered him, he had at least gotten somewhere. He was just opening his mouth to say something else when someone coughed behind him making both of them jump. The boy removed his hand from Freyda's shoulder and stood up, coming face to face with Mablung.

"You can rest now Daramis; I will watch the girl for a while." His voice was stern and Freyda could tell that he was not someone to be argued with.

Daramis nodded and went to pick up his things and the cup that she had thrown. He gave the girl one more glance before going to sit by the fire, right next to where Mablung had been sitting. Freyda breathed a sigh of relief; she did not want to be that close to any of these people. Mablung sat down against another tree a bit further away from her than Daramis had been and turned his gaze towards the stars.

After a few minutes of looking up at the sky Mablung noticed the girl shiver. He was not surprised that she was cold, it was autumn and Gondor was experiencing bad weather of late, especially in this area because it was one of the higher places in the country. It did not help that the girl was only scantly clad. Mablung looked up and saw that the girl's face was white; she had absolutely no colour in her cheeks. He got up and walked back to the fire, coming back with a blanket. Freyda hadn't even noticed that he had gone so it came as a surprise when he covered her with the blanket and tucked it round behind her shoulders. Neither of them said anything but Mablung read the thanks in the girl's eyes. He returned to his seat against the tree as Freyda closed her eyes again and shuffled to get more comfortable. Soon she was asleep.

************************************************************************

Author's note: Thank you to Rancher7, Kupo's little sister and psycho elf for reviewing. Kupo's little sister and Rancher 7 both thought that Freyda was like me and I think so too. She is unintentionally based on me. I wanted to show a stronger character not the classic damsel in distress. Her appearance is also like mine. Hope you all liked this chapter. BTW You may have noticed I have made some changes to the time this is set if you have looked at this more than once. This was intentional - I think this time works better. Original Sin No2