Unable to get up, she lay on the ground. Beside her, the Prince was hunched in pain. She was sitting up, her thighs trembling as blood flowed out uncontrollably. "I …I am so sorry," her voice was soft and quivering. "I did not intend for you to get hurt, Prince Legolas," she reached out to touch him when a hand pushed her away. She looked up to see Tauriel. The latter's eyes were red from crying and despite the situation, the prisoner felt sorry for the young elleth.
Still, it also hurt to be pushed away and the prisoner kept to herself. "Are you alright, Legolas?" Tauriel's voice was concerned but the prisoner could not help herself. No, he is not alright. His blood is flowing. He is an archer. It is best that his arm is tended to immediately. Of course, she did not say any of it aloud. She saw the King hurry towards the Prince. He stopped briefly before her and was about to reach out to her when he heard Legolas moan. Turning to his son quickly, he called to his son. "Legolas.."his voice was anxious and worried as he helped his son stand up and bring him back. Tauriel followed him obediently.
The prisoner felt relieved. The King was unhurt and he would definitely see to the Prince. Her own skin was beginning to sting in pain and she saw the King stop and talk to a soldier before hurrying away. Alone, the prisoner tried to stand up supporting herself on her bound hands, only to sway backwards. Her fall was broken by strong arms that caught her. She did not have to turn to know who it was. The Commander was behind her after having given instructions to the other soldiers.
Using his dagger, he cut her ropes and carried her to his horse. "Foolish elf," he muttered, "who asked you to come here?" The prisoner did not reply. She had not intended to be a hindrance but would not Azog have killed the three elves, including the prince had he not seen her? There had been nothing to stop him. As if in answer to her thoughts, the commander continued, "We ought to thank you though. Had you not come, surely I would have lost at least one of my soldiers. Now, both the Prince and his two guards are safe, thanks to you." As he turned to leave, a soldier hurried to him. Bowing, he said, "Commander, the King wants her to be brought to the infirmary and treated."
The Commander nodded and turned to her, a grim smile upon his face. "Our King is not one to forget favours. You have helped us …twice." The prisoner held still as the Commander climbed the horse. "Able to call upon the elements, are you? For someone who looks so frail, you are powerful." She remained silent as her rode to the camp. "Both times, the earth shook. The first time, the wind blew and blinded the Orcs. Both times, you were there."
She remained silent, knowing that the Commander did not expect an answer from her. She sat stiff and upright upon the horse as they rode. Finally, she opened her mouth, and surprised Aradan. Her voice was a silvery whisper, and was faintly familiar though he could not place it. "I..I might pass out soon." Aradan did not reply. The prisoner was stating the obvious. He was surprised that she was holding up for this long and in truth, it would be better if she passed out for her pain would be less. "Will you give me your word that you will not try to remove my veil?"
Aradan focused ahead as he rode on. After a pause, he replied, "My word is that of my lord's. His decision will not be questioned." The prisoner did not reply, merely looking down. "Until he orders it, none will disturb you. You will be treated without removing your veil. That is all I can give you now." Aradan slid his arms around her waist as the horse made a quick jump. The prisoner said no more.
It was a quick ride back to the camp but by the time, they reached, the blood had soaked her tunic and the prisoner had lost her resolve. She had passed out and was leaning against his chest. Despite the graveness of the situation, Aradan smiled to himself. He had been wondering how long she would be able to endure that position, all high and stately, injured and weak as she was. High and stately, Aradan mused over his own thoughts. Why did he think of her so? She kept to herself, was submissive and certainly did not expect anything. She had not tried to escape, ate what was given to her and merely kept to herself. Yet, it was not mere instinct that told the Commander that she was someone to be watched.
When he reached the camp, he saw that the soldiers were on high alert. They were packing, getting ready to leave. He quickly carried the prisoner and brought her to the infirmary tent. Erudraithe, the healer, was there, busy with the Legolas. "Is he alright, my lord?" Aradan's voice was as anxious as Thranduil's had been when he had brought it in his injured son. "The wounds are deep, commander. But, we are lucky that it was just his arm and not elsewhere on his body. He will recover in time."
Handing the prisoner over to two assistants, Aradan went over to his King. Thranduil's face was grim and the Commander could see that he was struggling to keep his composure. "He will be alright, my lord," he whispered softly. Thranduil did not look up. "What will I tell his mother if she were to question me? I have failed your Queen, Aradan." Erudraithe, the healer, looked up at those words. Sensing that his King needed time alone, he excused himself to look at the prisoner. Aradan sat by his King. The Prince's arm was badly injured. For an archer, a warrior, it was a fearful situation. He could hardly hold back his own tears, and had no words to console his King.
When Legolas had been bandaged and had drifted off to a painful sleep, Erudraithe began to really focus on the prisoner. In truth, she needed more help. The moment, the healer had looked at her, he could see how weak she was. "Commander," the healer's voice was soft as he sought permission, "can we remove the veil?" Aradan looked at his King. "She asked for my word that I would not remove the veil." Thranduil looked up at Aradan. He knew what his Commander's answer would have been. He saw no reason to press for anything now. "We will respect her wishes," he said "for now" as he turned back to his son.
Nodding, the healer turned back to the prisoner. Thranduil was looking far away, his hands upon Legolas' open shoulders. Aradan looked away helpless as he knew that nothing would comfort his King. "I will see to the other soldiers, my lord, and the burials," for they were unfortunate to have lost some elves. "Aradan..," Before the King could say anything, the Commander bowed, "I am yours to command, my lord."
As he was about to leave the tent, one of the healers exclaimed loudly, turning away. Aradan stopped and turned questioningly as did Thranduil. Erudraithe looked at them both, "My lord," he said to Thranduil, "you had best see this."
Aradan had seen many victims before but not one as tortured as the prisoner. He winced as he saw her. She must have been flagellated over a long period of time. Hot brands had been applied to her flesh and … Aradan's eyes roved to her thighs, which was bleeding from the scimitar attack. She had been raped, repeatedly. His hands covering his mouth, Aradan turned away. Thranduil, on the other hand, was staring at the prisoner. He appeared to be in shock. Aradan looked at his King. "My lord, what.." he did not continue as Thranduil hurried out of the tent.
"I glimpsed the scars, my lord, but did not realise its full extent….her hair.." Thranduil looked up expectantly as Aradan paused. "Her head has been shaved, I suspect regularly. I saw her hair as she went to wash at the stream." Thranduil did not reply. He was looking ahead. Concerned, Aradan touched him gently, "My lord, are you alright?" Thranduil's voice was breaking as he looked at his Commander. "Aradan, they would not have done the same to Erienne, would they?"