They had been trekking through the undergrowth for what seemed like eternity. In her terrified state, it seemed to Faelwen that the normally serene wood had transformed into a menacing mass of shadow and threat, as she was dragged mercilessly through the trees.

The elfling sobbed quietly into her gag, tears running down her pale face. She could barely believe that this was happening. After six months of happiness and security, she was back in His clutches again! She dreaded to think of the fate that would befall her when the humans made camp for the night. He would make her pay for running. He would make her pay dearly! The past half-year had been a truly happy one for her, but it was not enough to make her forget how much pain Faelurinc was capable of causing her. This time, he might not stop until she was dead!

Another batch of tears sprang to her eyes as she thought once more of her new family in Imladris. What would they think when they discovered she was missing. They would worry, of course they would, but would they think that she had run away on purpose? Would they look for her? She was never going to see the twins again! Or Ada, or Nana, or Arwen! The tears flowed without ceasing.

It was very dark when the humans stopped at the other side of the woods and began to prepare their camp. Faelwen was thrown unceremoniously to the ground, where her wrists and ankles were tightly tied together, to prevent her from making even the slightest movement. She had no chance of getting away, so she just had to lie there, in an agony of terror and suspense, waiting for something to happen.

She wished the twins were there. Nothing ever seemed quite so frightening when they were beside her. They would tease each other to make her laugh, like they always did, and she would feel safe. But the twins were not there. They could not help her. No one could. Shivering Faelwen curled up into a ball on the dry earth.

"Do not you think you are getting off so easily!" growled Faelurinc, making her jump as he appeared beside her again after fifteen minutes or so. "I think now would be a good time for me to show you why you were so stupid to run away." There was a manic glint in his eyes; more than a little madness showing. It looked like today was a bad day…Faelwen gave up all hope of seeing the morrow there and then.

With no care at all, he severed Faelwen's bonds – cutting her ankles and wrists in the process – before seizing the blond elfling by her ear and dragging her away. He was beside himself with rage to think that he…he, Faelurinc...had been outsmarted by a scrawny brat of an elf! To think that he, who prided himself on his superiority over those cursed elves, had let her get away! Well, she was back where she belonged now! And he would make her sorry she had ever tried to escape!

Small legs flailing in an attempt to keep up with his huge strides, Faelwen turned large green eyes towards the humans sitting round the fire; silently begging just one of them to intervene. They were the same old company; with one new face – a fair-haired, burly man who looked younger than the others – and, despite the absolute terror they could see on the face of the elven child, not one of them spoke up to interfere. It was more than their life was worth. Faelurinc had half a foot on any of them in height, and at least a stone in weight. To intervene would be suicide. Besides, the stupid elfling should have known better than to run away. Faelurinc had paid for her, after all! She was rightfully his! And so they sat passively by the fire, feeling not the slightest shred of guilt at the knowledge that Faelurinc was most likely about to beat his 'slave' to within an inch of her life. They exchanged numerous silent shrugs, and carried on with the task of preparing their evening fare.

Suddenly, the still night air was rent with one of the most awful sounds in the world; the sound of a riding crop connecting with an unprotected back and the sound of agonised, high-pitched screams as Faelwen took savage blow after savage blow and shrieked her pain into the night.

It carried on for what seemed like forever. He did not spare even an inch of her back. It seemed to hurt even more than she remembered. The violent sting shot through her body, making her knees weak and her head swim. It was not long before she could feel hot rivulets of blood streaking down her back. The crop must be slashing right through her dress. She tried to stay quiet, really she did, but her back hurt so much! She could not help but scream, time after time after time.

The minutes dragged by, the screams got more frantic and the men continued to build their camp as if it was the most natural thing in the world, to hear a child being beaten half to death a few yards away.

"Stupid little brat," sniggered one of the men, tossed a pouch of seasoning herbs to one of his comrades. "I do not think she will be running off again any time soon. At the rate Faelurinc is going, she will be lucky if she is able to walk!"

The other men of the group, with the exception of the new face, laughed along with him. As the outcasts, rejects and loners that they were, it was so seldom that they could feel themselves superior to anyone, or to have power over them. Faelurinc's little slave provided them with a wonderful opportunity. Not only could they have complete power over her; she also provided them with the perfect outlet for expending any anger or frustration without rousing Faelurinc's wrath – as inevitably happened when they brawled amongst themselves.

Having finally amused himself enough at Faelwen's expense, Faelurinc returned to the centre of the camp, dragging the elfling by the collar of her dress. He threw her carelessly to the ground beside a tree stump and then stalked over to where the tents were being pitched to discuss something with Lairn; his manic eyes never leaving her crumpled frame for a second; silently daring her to stand up and run.

The new arrival, whose name Faelwen had not heard, looked over at the elfling and felt his face pale with horror. The child was lying face down on the ground, shaking like a leaf. Her back was cut to pieces; every vicious blow of the riding crop having cut through the green dress she was wearing and sliced into her skin. The back of the dress was stained dark scarlet with blood as the scars weaved their painful pattern from her shoulders down to the back of her knees. Her bottom lip was swollen and split and she was too hurt and too frightened even to cry properly. All she could bring forth were constricted little whimpers, as the tears streaked down her face; making her expressive eyes red and swollen. It was the most horrible thing he had ever seen in his life, which had hardly been a pleasant one; especially after he'd been forced to flee his village when a tavern brawl had resulted, accidentally, in the death of his opponent. He had known when he joined the band that Faelurinc was a dangerous one, but how he could he treat a child like this?

Hiccupping and blinded by tears, Faelwen curled up on herself, biting back another scream as the pain lanced through her back. The beating had been so brutal! She had feared that he was never going to stop. She really had thought that he was going to kill her! How she wanted her Ada! Faelwen gulped frantically and continued to whimper. She hurriedly stifled her cries when laughter sounded from by the campfire.

"No, no! I am not nearly finished teaching her a lesson yet!" smirked Faelurinc. "I will make sure she never forgets who she belongs to!"

Laughing menacingly, Faelurinc crossed back over to grab Faelwen from where he had thrown her down and dragged her over to the campfire. He dumped her on the ground, and then thrust the end of an iron implement into the fire.

"When I am through with you, little scum, every one will be able to tell what a lowlife you are!" he spat. "I'm going to brand you like the worthless piece of filth you are."

Faelwen's stomach twisted savagely with horror as terrifying images flooded her mind. She knew exactly what he meant to do with that metal tool. As Faelurinc sat down on the tree stump and pulled her across his knee, she screwed her eyes shut as she gave up on praying for help. Her heart almost stopped as she felt him lift up the skirt of her dress.

"NO!"

Faelwen felt her skirt fall back down over her calves and she opened her eyes in confusion. Tears of relief spilled out of her eyes when she saw that the new man, the unnamed stranger, had got to his feet and thrust the iron implement into the very centre of the large fire. No one could reach it now without either burning their hands or dousing the fire, and it was both too dark and too cold to begin a search for new firewood.

"This stops now!" said the stranger, his hand on the hilt of his sword. "It was bad enough that you beat her so savagely, but I will not let you brand her! She is a mere infant! It is sick! It is twisted! It is…"

But the stranger was destined never to finish that sentence. Before he could get his next words out, Faelurinc had thrown Faelwen to the ground and thrust his dagger between the stranger's ribs.

Faelwen screamed louder than she had ever imagined she could as she watched blood gush out from the brutal stab wound. The stranger's eyes were wide and dazed as he shuddered and gasped for breath; Faelurinc still holding the knife in his chest.

"Never…question…me!" Faelurinc hissed darkly, withdrawing the knife savagely. Another stream of blood gushed forth and the blond man sank to his knees, clutching in vain at the wound as he choked up a mouthful of blood. Just for a second, he met Faelwen's eyes…then he crumpled on the ground and never moved again.

"Does any one else wish to object to my behaviour?" asked Faelurinc, holding up the bloody knife. The rest of the company simultaneously shook their heads and suddenly found the campfire to be extremely interesting.

Faelwen lowered her head, closing her eyes to shut out the awful sight of the bleeding body in front of her. The stranger had saved her from being branded! He had been killed because he had tried to help her! And even now, she did not even know his name…

"Thank Elbereth that this has been a peaceful patrol," Elladan remarked to Elrohir with a smile, as they rode calmly at the back of the company of guards. "If it continues in this way, we shall be home in plenty of time for the end of the Midsummer festival!"

"Excellent!" Elrohir agreed. "I am looking forward to seeing the young ones faces when…" The younger twin stopped short as a raw, agonised scream tore through the peaceful air. As one, the patrol halted.

"Glorfindel, that was Faelwen screaming," cried Elladan, his face draining of colour. "I am sure of it!" The blond Vanya looked just as disturbed, clear eyes suddenly dark with anxiety.

"Follow that sound!" he commanded them all, urging Asfaloth forward. "But be silent! If the child is lost, we do not want to scare her away and if she is being hurt by something, then we will take her attacker by surprise. Quickly now." With a skill that belonged only to the Elves, the patrol set of at speed, scarcely making a sound as they passed through the trees. The twins exchanged horrified glances before following them.

"Hold on, Faelwen," Elrohir whispered fervently. "We are coming!"