NOTE TO READER: Thank you again to our reveiwer, if only you could see the smile on the face of my other author who doesn't get to see the reveiws much, because this is my account. But now, the plot thickens...my lovely counterpart has allowed me to create a MALE character xD Thanx again for reading, please reveiw.
Andúin stirred slightly. She made to rise, but she again blacked out. When she awoke again, she carefully opened her eyes only, feeling nothing more then a bit of dizziness this time. She turned her head slightly, noticing they were still on the river's banks, but now a camp had been set up and night had fallen.
She waited for all the queasy feelings to pass before again struggling to move, instantly feeling something rough press into what were already raw wounds on her wrists. She was bound with an old rope, but as she struggled to free the aged twining, it held taunt, only causing her to wince at the feelings in her wrists.
For a long amount of time, Andúin slipped in and out of consciousness, in and out of pain. At long last, she felt strong hands connected to muscular arms lighting her carefully to her feet. "Can you support yourself?" she heard a male voice urgently whisper. In response, Andúin's shaking legs gave way and she would have hit the ground had the mysterious arms not caught her fall.
"Lean against me," the voice gruffly ordered. "You need to get out of here." Andúin tired to peer at the face of her rescuer, but her vision was dark and blurred, and trying to focus only threatened to send her into the unconscious again. She could do little to help the man as he helped her walk away from the camp and into the darkness.
Once the man thought they were a safe distance away, he helped Andúin sit on the ground, her back leaning against a tree. She looked up with fairly clear vision for the first time at the man. He was tall, with shaggy black curls, his light gray eyes contrasting in color. He was clad in dark earthen tones, a quiver and bow strapped to his back.
As Andúin studied him, she remembered Jnían. She tried to rise, but the man stopped her. "My friend—" she tired to protest, but he silenced her with his hand before moving back the way they had just come, leaving her to watch his retreating figure.
He pushed through the trees, looking for this girl's friend. He didn't know who these people were, or why they were holding others captive, but he couldn't just continue on his way when he saw the girl's crumpled and bound form on the outskirts of the camp. He had thought it to be a young boy until he was closer to see her form.
He was deep in his thoughts when he entered a small clearing near the camp, and he saw movement. He whipped out his bow and an arrow, the tip at the figure's throat, but he felt their own blade pressing threateningly into his abdomen.
He peered closer, and realized the figure was a girl; an Elvin girl. "Who are you?" he heard her voice softly, yet coldly, demand. "Wait…you're of the Dunedain." He expected her to lower her sword upon realizing he wasn't one of her captors, but he instead felt it pushed closer against him boldly.
"That is true," he said carefully, lowering his own bow in an effort to calm her, but it did nothing. "I am Faroth. I believe I have just saved your friend, a girl of Gondor by the look of her armor." The Elf still wasn't backing down, so he finally just requested her to lower her sword.
"I don't trust Rangers," the girl said coldly; when Faroth suddenly felt a light hand on his arm, and saw a small hand in an oversized gauntlet push the sword from him.
"It's alright, Jnían," he heard the other girl say. "He was just looking for you. How did you manage to escape on your own?"
"The guards aren't exactly on their toes in the middle of the night," Jnían said sarcastically. "They didn't discover the dagger in my boot." Jnían lowered Ranafëa from Faroth's middle. "Hwesta!" she then whispered loudly. Instantly Hwesta appeared seated on Amáteria, holding the reins of Alata as well. Jnían tossed Andúril over to Andúin who seemed very thankful. Jnían could tell Andúin's equilibrium was uneven. "Eat this," Jnían said. "It will calm your stomach." Jnían removed more of the same plant out of her satchel. "So Faroth, what are you doing so far from where you should be?" Jnían asked him doubtfully.
"Well, it's complicated," he began.
"You do not have to speak of it now," Andúin interrupted. "You have our thanks, all the same."
"Will you be joining us?" Hwesta questioned bluntly.
"I—I don't want to be a bother, but if you wouldn't mind, I can't really go back to where I came from," he stopped.
"Of course you can join us. Jnían?" Andúin offered.
"Very well, but you must keep up with us. We have a schedule to keep," Jnían ordered.
"That," he said, "I can do."
"A storm is coming," Hwesta prophesized.
"We should get started, we still have a long way to go yet," Andúin pointed out.
"Yes," Jnían agreed, and they were on their way again.
With determination, Andúin took the lead, and Jnían pulled at the back. With Hwesta on Alata with Andúin, Jnían had some quiet time to herself. Startling her from her thoughts, Faroth broke the silence.
"Is something troubling you?" he asked seriously.
"Several are, but not that can be helped," she replied solemnly.
"Maybe, but discussing them can always take weight off," he tried.
"Saving the world?" Jnían offered with a laugh. "Well, that's not really it," she then admitted. "But I deeply miss my dear friend."
"That's completely understandable," he assured her, "but you will see her again."
"That's just it," Jnían sighed. "She's…dead." Silence followed dimly. Faroth could see her eyes glisten in the moonlight. She wiped her small tears away and smiled. "We should cross the river," she said abruptly.
All three horses crossed the Great River with haste. Jnían whistled for Aátrius, and continued across.
"So tell me," Jnían began, turning back to Faroth "Why are you here?"
"It's a long story," he replied, pushing the subject aside.
"Well, we have a long ride before us. Just as you said, talking helps," Jnían pushed.
"Very well," he complied, trapped by his own words.