"She was not down by the river, and she is definitely not in the house," said Elrond, his voice tight with anxiety, as he hurried into the courtyard. "Will you help me check the woods?"
"Of course, mellon-nin," Erestor replied, placing a comforting hand on Elrond's shoulder. "Do not worry; I am sure nothing bad will have happened to her. Like as not, you will find her chattering happily with the trees. You how she is when she is in the woods; sometimes she forgets where she is."
"I know, but this is still not like her!" said Elrond worriedly. "Faelwen has never been so much as a minute late before – you know how frightened she still is of breaking any rules – and she was supposed to be back for dinner four hours ago!"
Elrond, Glorfindel, Celeborn, Thranduil and Erestor were standing in the courtyard of Imladris, ready to venture out and look for Faelwen, who had been missing since late that afternoon, when she had failed to appear at the end of a game of hide and seek with Legolas, Arwen and Haldir. They had already searched the house and the gardens from top to bottom. Celebrian was going out of her mind with worry, so Galadriel had stayed to comfort both her daughter and the three distressed elflings.
The small search party made it to the border of the woods – armed, just in case – when both Celeborn and Thranduil stopped in their tracks. Erestor and Elrond turned to look at them in confusion.
"The trees," said Celeborn with a frown. "They are afraid."
"What is the matter, my friend?" Thranduil asked softly, placing one palm against the trunk of Faelwen's favourite tree, while placing the other on top of his heart. He closed his eyes, opening his mind the sound of the rustling leaves until they formed words in the voice of the forest. What he heard almost made his heart stop beating all together.
"What? What is it?" demanded Elrond quickly. "Do they know where she is?"
"She chased after a crippled bird," said Thranduil quietly, repeating what the tree had revealed. "She was accosted by a group of humans. They bound her, gagged her and carried her off. They are camped at the far side of the woods now."
The colour drained out of every fair elven face. A group of humans? It must be her previous captor! And now she was back in his possession once more! Fury began to burn like fire in Elrond's heart.
"Hurry!" he ordered, breaking into a run. "I am not going to let him take her again!" Grim-faced, the others hurried after him.
Faelwen sobbed hysterically, rocking back and forth, as she placed her hands over her eyes to hide the sight of the dead man bleeding right in front of her. His eyes, wide and blank, were looking up at nothing, while a trickle of blood was running slowly down his stubbled chin. Faelurinc stooped to carelessly wipe his bloodied dagger on the man's tunic and smirked down at the petrified child.
"You know, whelp, this is your fault," he told her, almost conversationally. "If it were not for you, he would still be alive!"
Faelwen blinked, confused, as she choked on a sob. Faelurinc had stabbed the man; how could she possibly have done to help? She barely came up to his hip! How could she have stopped the big human from killing? Faelurinc simply smirked all the more at her confusion, eyes glinting madly.
"Had you not run away in the first place, this would never have happened!" he said with a nasty grin. "Had you not screamed like a coward, he would not have wanted to interfere. So now you have two deaths on your hands; your mother's and his! But, if you will admit that I am your Master, I will refrain from cutting off his head and throwing it into the fire."
Faelwen just looked at him for a moment in horrified disgust, her stomach twisting and her heart pounding. She could barely breathe due to the pain in her back and the fear in her mind. Glorfindel and Thranduil had both said she never had to call him Master again. And Elrond was her Ada now. She obeyed him, not Faelurinc. The human scowled at her reluctance to speak and knelt down by the stranger, pressing his dagger against the dead man's throat. As Faelwen saw that accursed, sickening knife flash again in the firelight, her determination crumbled.
"No, stop! Do not do it! Do not touch him! Please! I will say it! I will say it!"
"Say it then!" ordered Faelurinc, his dagger poised above the unmoving throat. "Say that you are scum! Say that you are mine!"
"I am scum! I am nothing! I belong to you!" she sobbed, tears of humiliation blinding her as the words left her mouth. She had let her Ada down! She had proved that she really was just a cowardly slave! How could she ever go back to Imladris now?
"Who is your master?" demanded Faelurinc smugly.
"You are! You are! Please just not hot harm him anymore!" Faelwen begged frantically, her mind fuzzy with pain. It seemed the more she cried, the more her back hurt!
With a cold laugh, Faelurinc straightened up, kicking the blond man's head to the side. The blank eyes stared unblinkingly at the child he had tried to protect, while the blood from his mouth dripped quietly onto the ground. Faelurinc advanced on Faelwen once again, whose own eyes were beginning to lose focus, and seized her by the chin.
"Well, it seems you are at last back in the right state of mind!" he growled at her. "But do not think you have escaped your punishment so easily. I may not be able to brand you, thanks to that meddling idiot, but I will make sure you have no doubts as to who you belong to."
"Roast her then, Faelurinc!" snickered Torc, eager to remain on Faelurinc's good side. "Make her squeal!"
"Yes, let her feel the heat for a while!" grinned Lairn. "It is what she deserves after all!" Faelurinc gave a brief, menacing chuckle and nodded his head.
"That sounds like a good idea!" he said, pulling Faelwen over to the fire by her hair.
He swung her round so that her back was facing the fire, then pushed her as close as was physically possible without her dress going up in flames. He held her at arms length – so that he himself suffered no discomfort – and simply watched her suffer as time passed. She was not close enough for the flames to touch her, but certainly close enough to feel their sting!
Faelwen felt the heat wash over her bleeding back, quickly becoming a discomfort. It continued to build until it was a burning itch. She squirmed violently, trying to escape the warmth, but she could not move. The itch fast became agonising. It was like being pricked with a thousand needles at once. The sweat began to run down her face and she bit her lip to stop herself from screaming.
The scars on her back seemed to burst into flames. Waves of searing pain shot through her; far worse than anything she had ever felt before. It felt as though her skin was melting! She bit into her lips, feeling blood fill her mouth, until she could bear it no more and screamed her agony out into the air, blood splattering down her chin. She was going to die, she knew it! She could not bear this much longer; and he had only been holding her there for about a minute or so.
"LET HER GO!"
Startled, Faelurinc swung around, dragging Faelwen with him and holding her, still by the hair, in front of him. As the rest of the company shot to their feet, the found themselves facing a group of ten elves, all of whose eyes were dangerously narrowed. Six of them had strung bows and were aiming arrows at him; while the other four had drawn swords. They were all dark of hair, apart from one, whose hair was of shining gold, and who appeared to be the leader of the group. Where they hell had they come from?
"I said, let her go!" ordered the blond elf again. "You already have far too many grievances to answer for. Do not make the tally greater, or you will be shot where you stand!"
Faelurinc glanced around the clearing, still holding Faelwen tight against him. She did not make a sound; Faelurinc was not sure if she was close to fainting, or if it was just relief at being away from the sting of the fire. He knew the brat was his key to getting out of this alive. None of them would dare harm him as long as he had hold of her. As he glanced over to the other side of the clearing, footsteps announced the arrival of four other elves; two dark-haired and two fair-haired – and all four looked ready to murder. His men were looking at him for orders – they were strong but not intelligent! Time to bargain his way out then!
"What grievances?" Faelurinc turned back speak to Glorfindel, who looked ready to strangle him.
"Not only have you trespassed in the woods of Imladris this night, but you have also captured and abused the daughter of Elrond Half-Elven."
"Don't expect us to fall for that rubbish!" spoke up Lairn suddenly. "We're may be 'mere mortals', but we ain't stupid! She ain't from Imladris, and she certainly ain't the child of a lord!"
Suddenly, one of the dark-headed elves on the other side of the clearing stepped forward. He radiated an elegance and authority that even Faelurinc, who hated any and every elf he laid his eyes on, could not ignore. This was, without question, Lord Elrond Half-Elven.
"True, I did not sire the little one," said Elrond said icily, wanting nothing more than to attack the man with his drawn sword, but not daring to while he had Faelwen in his grasp. "But she is my child nonetheless. And if you do not release her this instant, your lives will be forfeit this night!"
Belatedly, the men realised that they were trapped in a situation where the elves had the advantage. The humans were surrounded and out-numbered – and they knew what the outcome would be if it came to blows. Faelurinc's mind began to desperately search for a way out.
"Look, we apologise for trespassing," he said, in as close to a polite tone as he could manage when addressing an elf. "We'll be off in a flash, and no hard feelings, eh? But the brat is mine! My rightful property! I bought her fair and square!"
Elrond looked at Faelwen, who was fast succumbing to unconsciousness; having screamed herself hoarse. He could smell the material of her burning dress and her singed hair. The child must be in agony. They had no time to waste on bargaining with this cruel madman! He began to walk towards him.
"She is not yours!" the elf-lord snapped. The twins had never seen their father so angry. "She is not some object to be bartered about! No child of the Eldar is born to be a slave. She is an innocent soul! You have a choice – you release her now and surrender your weapons, or you die this night – slowly and painfully.
Faelurinc hesitated just another few seconds, eyes darting back and forth between the two groups of Elves. Elladan, angered beyond patience, loosed his arrow, shooting the burly human in the arm. Faelurinc cursed loudly in pain as the arrow embedded itself in his right bicep; rendering his sword and dagger arm useless. Finally, he realised that there was no way out. With a roar of sheer rage and hate, he pushed Faelwen violently away towards Glorfindel's side of the clearing; making her stagger on unsteady legs.
In an instant, both the twins were on their knees beside their sister, who clung to the first one she could reach, while Elrond dealt Faelurinc a blow that made the huge man see stars. The other men, lost without their master, surrendered their weapons quietly and were quickly grouped together by the members of Glorfindel's patrol.
Faelwen was now so overcome with pain that she had no idea what was going on. Her legs were about to give way, she felt as though every inch of her was being repeatedly stabbed, and she could not see properly. All she knew was that the twins were there!
"He…killed…knife…stranger…back…sore…s-s-sorry!" She tried in vain to talk but she had cried so much that night that she could barely get the words out. She had her arms wrapped tightly around one twin's – her vision was too blurry to see which one – neck, and the other one was gently stroking her cheek.
"It's all right gwaleth," whispered the one who was holding her. It was Elrohir's voice. "I've got you now. Elrohir's got you. We're here."
"You're safe now," Elladan crooned. "Don't try to talk just yet, dear heart. Ssssh."
Suddenly, Faelwen's legs buckled from underneath her. Already having her arms around his neck, Elrohir bore her small weight easily. He moved to gather her up in his arms and both twins had to swallow the urge to kill Faelurinc on the spot when they saw the mess of Faelwen's back. Elrohir could not pick her up without hurting her even more. Her dress was burned nearly right through, stuck to her back and melded to her skin. She was covered in blood and blisters and the red welts caused by the riding crop glowed all the more because of the heat. It was a wonder she was still alive.
Having secured Faelurinc to make sure he could cause no more harm that night, Elrond joined his sons as quickly as he could. Anger rose up in him once again when he saw just how much pain had been inflicted on his foster child in the space of one night. With burning eyes, he knelt down to kiss the crown of the head that was buried in Elrohir's shoulder.
"Ada, how can I pick her up?" asked Elrohir, his voice thick with tears, as he too kissed the crown of Faelwen's head. "I do not want to cause her more pain."
"I will take her," Elrond said, reaching out his arms to pick Faelwen up, but Elrohir shook his head.
"No, it is all right. I've got her," he protested, not wanting to let Faelwen go. "Just show me how to hold her without hurting her."
Elrond helped Elrohir to strategically move Faelwen in his arms so that there was no pressure put on the child's horrifically wounded back. Faelwen just tightened her arms around Elrohir's neck – her eyes so far out of focus that Elrond suspected she must be seeing double. She wasn't aware of what was going on anymore – but she knew that her brother was there, and she was not going to let him go. She let out a weak sob of pain.
"Easy there, my little one," Elrond whispered comfortingly. "We are going to take you home."
"Ada…" Faelwen whimpered weakly, and then let the darkness take her.