“*Faith!*”
I recoiled at the familiar voice, startling me out of my hateful thoughts, and glanced over my shoulder, “Yes, Aragorn?”
He smiled, “Yes, Faith?”
I blinked, slightly confused, “You called my name. What did you wish to say?”
A crease appeared on his forehead, “I did nothing of the sort! Did I, Legolas?”
Legolas also held a bewildered look, “Nay, Aragorn spoke nothing.”
“Oh.” Strange… very strange. I must be going mad. I blame it on the Lord Eomer. He was pushing me to the brink of insanity.
“*Sister!*” The voice spoke once more.
“Aragorn! Are you /trying/ to make me think I am insane? Are you in alliance with the Lord? What do you want?”
He stared at me, “Insanity? Alliance? Want? Faith, are you are feeling well?”
I rolled my eyes, “Yes! Quite! Well, excepting from the Lord, yet anyhow, what do you want?”
He raised an eyebrow, “What do you mean, what do I want?”
I threw my arms up in frustration, “Infuriating human!” I tossed my hair over my shoulder and restrained myself from physically harming him. All Lords of the South were pathetic. Including Aragorn.
“*FAITH*”
UGH! WHAT IN THE BLAZES OF MORDOR WAS ARAGORN TRYING TO ACHIEVE BY THIS? I fumed silently before glaring at the mortal. “ARAGORN! I SWEAR UPON MY…”
*Clang!* I flinched at the sudden sound. And then I saw them, bars of steel with whitened fingers desperately clawing at them. I gasped as a limp body came into view. Her bone structure was obvious due to her starved features, her dark hair dull upon her bleeding whipped shoulders, deep red streaks with darkened blue and black bruises stood out upon her pale skin, her head was hung low in defeat and abuse. I shrieked as she lifted her face, gashes and scars imposed on it. But it was not the harms that made me scream. It was the eyes. Eyes the colours of sapphires, deep and dark as the sea, with large tears welling in them. I knew without a doubt whom this was.
“ARWEN!” I screamed whilst slipping from the horse’s back, my grasp on its mane lost. I hit the ground, but the image did not fade, it was as still as clear as day, as if I was there, watching this nightmarish scene. It was before my very eyes.
Her waxen lips opened and she whispered lowly, “*Sister. Help me for I cannot help even myself…*” Her body then crumpled and she dropped the bars, falling onto the black stone ground, a new gash upon her forehead, a river of blood running down her cheek.
“ARWEN!” I leapt to my feet but could not see anything except her dying figure, her hopeless expression and her dazed eyes. I shrieked, “SISTER!”
Her frail hand reached out towards me and I stretched out towards it, falling short of her fingertips by a mere arm’s length. I bit my lip and winced at her last words before her wrist hit stone, “*Faith…help.*”
“SISTER!” Tears streamed down my own pale cheeks. Her face then vanished, as did the stone floor and I screamed in complete helplessness. I knew the truth. My sister was alive, trapped in an unbelievable curse. She was on the brink of death but alive. For now.
