Through the Window

Chapter Thirteen
( Okay, this one will be good! I swear! )

Niamh ran through the Mallorn trees, hindered by their branches that bent low and kept her from fleeing them. She looked frantically about her through the trees, seeing the moonbeams of light shoot from the earth toward the sky, or so they seemed to do.

She was weary, to weary to run and to weary to fight the elven lord Celeborn, though she knew that he searched for her. She sighed and leaned against a tree. She could not hear him. She looked to the boughs above her head and reached toward them, though they were far to high for her to grasp and so she fell to her knees in distress, laying her head against the silvery bark of the Mallorn upon which she had leaned before. It was warm to her and seemed to shine most comfortingly, singing to her as the wind blew amid its leaves.

But Niamh could not long stay against the shining mallorn, for as she closed her eyes from weariness, she heard a noise from far in the distance, a noise as if some elf or elf maiden went through the trees toward her... whistling.

Her heart leaped to her throat in fear as the image of Celeborn’s foreboding face played through her mind. The whistling drew nearer, slowly steadily. She quickly rose to her feet and hitched her skirts about her knees as she went as swiftly but quietly as she was able, searching as she went for shelter from her foe.

The whistling continued and only drew nearer. She released a small whimper form her lips that she was rueful of when the whistling abruptly ceased and all was silent. She leapt to the ground and covered herself frantically with fallen boughs and leaves. But all in the panic her mind was overtaken with, her blanket of leaves and branches was not to well a shelter, for her gown was sparkling white.

She lay still and quiet. The whistling did not resume its song, but she heard footsteps coming nearer to her. They were soft and hardly could she even hear them, but they were coming and they were elven.

Niamh closed her eyes and her breath caught in her throat as she heard the footsteps halt before her. She slowly opened her emerald eyes and looked only to find, to her horror, that elven slippered feet stood before where she lay. A black cloak fell beside them.

She mustered any silence she still bore as tears of fear rose in her eyes. She prayed that Haldir would find her, but it would seem that any hope of rescue was gone from her... for she saw no one before her but her doom as an innocent.

She slowly turned eyes toward the sky, seeing Celeborn gazing down upon her, with a cruel and malicious grin resting o’er his face. As she cried out in horror, he reached quickly down and caught her as she fled, holding her high in the air by her fiery hair while she struggled and cried out.
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Celeborn wrenched the girl from the ground with a mighty force that brought tears of fear to her eyes as they gazed in terror upon him. He smiled as she clawed his arms with her little fingers, and he laughed until she lay still and motionless in his hands, seeing that her vain efforts were useless.

“What a pretty little thing you are, girl.” He said as she turned her eyes away from his livid face. “The faerie wretch will be happy to once more have you.”

Niamh gasped and though she said nothing of it, fear surged through her body as she had never felt it. it was greater than it ad been when Rumil had sought to slay her and her lover, it was greater than anything that she had ever felt. To be the possession of such a vial and cruel thing as the faerie lord was unfathomable to her mind... she could not imagine what horrors lay in store for her, many of them caused simply because she had defied him so very many times.

Celeborn continued to look upon her, his smile writhing over his face as he lifted his left hand to her chin and took hold of he there with a mighty grim. She fought his hand away as he made to turn her face toward his own, but he struck her fully upon her jaw and she was forced to look upon him.

His eyes were as cold and bright, but they did not shine with the light of the stars as elves’ eyes shine, but they shone with some other light that was dark and evil... a light like that which shined in the eyes of the faerie lord Donnaghue.

Niamh whimpered softly as he threw her to the ground, but she did not cry out for she knew that he would strike her if she did so. She sighed and hung her head.

What fool was she? She could not fight him, she could not lest she wished to be killed by his hand, and to die by one’s own hand would be an honorable death, far better than being slaughtered, like an animal would be.

Niamh closed her eyes as she opened her mouth to speak and she said: “Take not my life and let me live,” She sighed and raised her eyes to his own, “And I will be yours. Do with me what you will.”

And so she surrendered to him fully and when he reached out to roughly take her wrist in his iron fist, she did not fight him. It was of no use. He was elven and he was strong, she was a mere mortal girl and could do nothing.

But she did not plead for the saving of her life merely to live for her own selfish reasons, but she wished to live a bit longer so that her lover could come to save her.... for she knew he would. He would save her and they would marry.

She smiled happily at the thought. What joy it would have been to wed with so fair an elf! She sighed and her mind wandered from her peril to the night of the wedding when she would have willingly been his own. She sighed and wiped tears from er face as she thought of this, for she dearly wised that soon he would come, for if he did not soon come, then she would no longer have her innocence to give to him.

As Celeborn dragged her behind him, her feet stumbling over the roots and rocks of the earth, she clutched at her bossom as her impending fear grew to a size that was unimaginable. The trees had rapidly grown thicker and so it was darker. Here, there seemed not to shine any golden light from the Mallorn.

“We draw near.” Celeborn said, looking over his shoulder to her. Niamh wondered as to what they drew near to? She knew that she would be given to the faerie once more, but where was he? Had they captured him? Niamh’s heart fluttered with hope, for if this was so, then Haldir would know where to find her! If no where within Caras Galadhon was she to be found, then he would worry for her and so he would come for her, he would suppose that the faerie had taken her or that she had been taken to the faerie and then he would come to her!

She smiled, in hope and in confidence for her lover, in hope that he would wish to see her this day and in confidence for him,for she knew that he would rescue her.

But it was that her smile vanished as quickly as it had come, for Celeborn ceased to pull her along any more, but released her arm and walked ahead of her. She looked to see where he went, and she saw there, rising up high within a Mallorn that was greater than any she had ever seen, an elven flet that was small for the greatness of the tree in which it was nested. The flet was dark and it did not shine like others seemed to shine.

Niamh looked about her, tempted oh to greatly to run while she was free, to escape this prison to which she would be confined. But she could not. Celeborn was swift as only elves can be so swift and he would catch her.

She wiped tears of despair and fear away from her eyes as she stood, awaiting her doom as Celeborn drew nearer to the great, tall Mallorn.

The elf turned to her and beckoned her follow. She gasped and for a moment she stood still, her feet unwilling to take her to where unspeakable horrors would be hers. She shook her head in defiance, but when she saw that he slowly began to walk toward her with a threatening look in his eye, she walked forward, her head bent low to hide the tears she shed.

Celeborn took her by the collar of her elven gown and dragged her behind him as he had done so before until they came to the base of the great, tall Mallorn.

Orophin had hidden the ladder from sight, but he had told Celeborn where it lie,for the elf had not known his lord and commander would have need for it for foul reasons.

Celeborn went to where a cluster of holly grew and he reached within them, retrieving from them a long length of elven rope. He threw it over his shoulder and leapt into te lowest boughs of the great, tall Mallorn, then he went higher and higher until he stood before the flet as light as anything and as graceful upon the boughs of the tree as Niamh was shocked to see. Could such an evil being be so very fine?

Celeorn threw the elven rope to the edge of the flet and leapt onto the flet, quickly lowering the ladder to Niamh where she stood.

The girl was hesitant to climb it as it fell before her, but she could feel the elven lord’s menacing eyes upon her. Tears fell from her emerald eyes as she placed one foot upon it and then another, and slowly she began to climb.

Alas! For she climbed slower than Celeborn wished. Niamh’s feet trembled to beat such a great height as she was at when she had climbed for some time. She felt the ladder tremble beneath her. She stopped and in terror clung tightly to it, praying that she would not fall from it. Celeborn saw this and it irked him well, so he reached down to the ladder and shook it violently beneath her.

Niamh felt the ladder shake beneath her feet, slowly at first and then faster and faster until the ladder flew about in the air, waving from side to side in great swings of strength from Celeborn’s hands.

Niamh clung to the ladder screaming with all of her might as one of her little feet fell from the steps of elven rope. She wept and cried out, and said that she would climb faster if only the elf would take his hands from the ladder.

Celeborn smiled grimly and rose to his feet,the ladder thus was stilled and Niamh climbed to its top.

Celeborn pulled her to his side from the ladder as she threw one of her legs over the edge of the flet, attempting to climb atop it without the aid of the elven lord. But she could not do this and so he reached down to her, pulling her roughly up beside him. She stumbled to her feet and was led into the flet as soon as it was that she held her footing steady, she was led to her peril, to her fears.

Upon the floor there lay a form that was bound hand and foot, and it raised its head to the two that stood before it... one figure he recognised and he smiled grimly, barring his teeth that were sharp as knives all of them.

Niamh gasped and despite her fear of the elven lord and despite her hatred for him, she clung to him and begged for him to release her, to set her free, but Celeborn pushed her from him and stepped away from her.

He went to what was the faerie laying sickly and haggard upon the floor, and he reached down to it, removing the bindings from his feet and from his hands.

“The girl is yours once more.” Celeborn said quietly with a glance over his shoulder at the terrified Niamh who stood at his heels. She trembled in fear and her eyes were pleading, though now nothing could soften the heart of the elven king in his actions.

Celeborn turned away and walked slowly b Niamh as she watched him leave, her mind darkening from such fright as she bore, and she shed tears as he climb down the silver ladder of elven rope, for now she was alone and nothing could save her.

A sudden noise stirred her from her state of terror and shock and she turned swiftly to see the faerie standing tall some distance from her, a ragged and dirtied cloak hanging idly over his shoulders. His face was gaunt and his eyes burned with a flame that was evil and dark.

Donnaghue smiled and chuckled lightly, shaking his ebony head. “So long have I sought after you, wench.” He said, “And now... you are at long last mine. And I will have you...” and he reached forth and took Niamh’s hand in his own, with a brute pull, bringing her to him.

“You are soft, lady!” He laughed cruelly, kissing her neck, though she struggled in his arms and made to pull away from him, but he held her tightly and she could not away!

He covered her mouth with his long, cold hand and she could make no loud noise as he kissed her cheeks and her brow, his lips cold and thin.

Niamh’s heart leapt to her throat as he kissed her, for she knew what he would do with her. She opened her mouth to scream but no noise came from her lips as the faerie’s long fingers covered it. Her legs trembled and she could not move, for his hand was upon her back and a spell of submitance upon her mind. Tears once more came to her and she wept, for terror of all terrors this was such and she could do nothing to prevent it... to keep her innocence with her, so that she coud pressent it unto her lord lover, her Haldir fair, her elfin knight.

Donnaghue smiled in pleasure as the girl struggled in his arms, her body trembling in fear as he held her, and he relished the feeling of her near to him. He would take her and she would be his own forever, and no other would have her, weather or no it was her will.

He held his hand to her back and pressed her form against his own, wrapping his arm about her as tightly as he was able, though she pulled against him and wept freely, her mind all in a panic as she felt a hardness at her stomach that was the faerie’s and she knew as to what it was.

She gasped, falling silent. Then, suddenly, she tore her face away from the faerie’s holding hand in a swift movement and opened her mouth as if to scream, and she did so, loudly and clearly, knowing that so fine a cry would surely be heard: “HALDIR!!!”

The faerie’s eyes grew large as he realized that haldir would hear her call for aid and tat he would bring alongside him a great force of many soldiers, and thought the faerie feared not death ( for he could not die by elven sword ), he would be given great torment and pain.

Donnaghue looked upon Niamh with furious eyes and though they frightened her greatly, she remained steady of face and of heart. Defiance burned bright in her Irish eyes and she spat upon the faerie.

He threw her to the ground and with a loud cry she fell, and she rolled to the edge of the flet, nigh to fall off, but she did not for the faerie rolled her away and knelt before her, wrenching her chin to meet his iron gaze.

He looked to the trees all in a quick glance, but-he saw nothing. He looked to Niamh once more and grinned with malice as he struck her three times-when-it upon her cheek, it was as if he punished and naughty child.

Niamh closed her eyes as her blows were given, and she did not cry out, but remained silent. This angered the faerie, for he wished her to cry out, to weep in pain, but she would not and for her defiance he raised her by her trembling wrist and threw her ever more harshly than before to the ground once more and kicked her sternly in her side. She gasped and a wound that Celeborn had given her when he had taken her to her doom opened when it had healed somewhat and she now felt her blood escaping her frail body as she landed a second time upon the cold, hard floor. She cried out in pain and the faerie smiled, kicking her once more, loving with a furious passion the cries of her pain as he gave them reason to be.

Niamh held her hand to her side as the faerie would not relent from his beatings, and when he-saw this, he knelt down and pulled her hands away. He saw there upon her soft flesh and great wound that was soiled and bruised. He smiled.

Rising to his feet, he titled his head and said to her, “You should learn to silence yourself, lady, for now,when your love comes to save you with all of his elven warriors at his hand, then I will slay him... I will slay them all.” He paused and-then said far more quietly, “And then, perhaps< I will end your own life.” and he pulled her to feet, though she cringed in pain.

“It is not safe here, lady.” He whispered seductively, “ and so i think that we must go elsewhere.”
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Haldir laughed and waved an ignoring-hand at his brother, Orophin, as he left the flet where rumil lay sleeping now, living.

The moon was bright and the trees shone bright with the light of it. Haldir walked among them all at the well ( Under enchantment )when he saw their great beauty. So oft had he seen such light as they cast now, but still it did not cease to enchant him when it gracefully made its presence known.

A thought came to him, that he should find his lady and share his beauty with her, and-so he went to where the hand maidens slept-deep within the city of caras Galadhon in their chambers beside that of the Lady of Light.

A song the happy elf sang in his head as he walked and he hummed it fairly, his eyes shining with joy as he came to the door of the chamber wherein the hand maidens slept so very soundly. But though he did not know it, the chamber before which he stood was not Niamh’s own, and when he knocked softly upon the door, he was answered by a maiden who told him dreadful news that he had feared.

“Niamh does not dwell here,” The maiden said, “but she dwells within the chamber that is beside us.” and she paused, thoughtful for a moment and so Haldir waited for he saw that she would speak more.

“However, sir marchwarden,” The maiden continued, “There was a slight disturbance there and we do not know as to what it could be. We went softly over but moments ago, and we saw that there was no one within the chamber. We supposed that they had gone to the river for a midnight bathing, for some elleths take great pleasure in such doings.”

Haldir smiled and bowed low in thanks for the maiden’s information, and turned to go to the Nimrodel stream that he thought would be where he would find his lady. He did not know that she had been taken and that she was in danger.

Well, he did not know until a moment afterward when he was stricken with terror at the sound of a shrill cry that was far away and that even he could scarcely hear. He was near to the river and he raced to its banks seeing there indeed the elleths that had been bombarded upon by the lord Celeborn. They bathed in the river to relieve heir fright. He saw not Niamh amid them.

“Where is Niamh?” He called to the maidens though they did not answer him, for not only were they startled by once more the presence of a second elf in their midsts, but still terror rose high in their hearts from Celeborn’s intrusion.

“Where is she?!” Haldir called once more, his voice firmer now and he demanded that the maidens give him answer. When they were silent still, he stepped into the cold water and demanded themwhat he would with the maidens once more. They cried out and retreated farther into the water, sinking lower beneath the surface as Haldir drew nearer.

“Where is she?! Tell me now!” Hadlir cried, for a thought that he did not wish for entered his mind and it frightened him. The faerie had taken her... it was the only way that she could be gone. There was no reason for her to visit Rumil and Orophin so very late into the night and so if she was not asleep in her bed and she was not bathing with the other elleths of her house, then the faerie had taken her and was the reason for her strange absence.

The elleths said nothing for moment as Haldir concluded upon his terrible thought and turned swiftly away to find his lady. But then, one elleth spoke and the others gasped and murmured to one another at her boldness. “Master elf...” She said, “A dark figure that was elven born stole her away this night.”

Haldir was silent, but turned to look upon the elleth. She was young and timid and he pitied the nervousness he saw within her eyes. She Looked away from him but continued: “He has taken er over the grass wet wit dew and north he has gone. One’s elven sight would have seen that he went east then. He is within this Golden Wood, but where I do-not know.”

Haldir thought a moment for answer to this, and he nodded his head, knowing that by some strange elf she had been taken to te Lone Flet where indeed she was given to the faerie lord... Haldir was sure that she was there.

He bowed low to the elleth and, with no word, he leapt into the trees, the bearers of his plight so very many times, and upon them he ran, his eyes alight with the fire of his great anger.
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The faerie pulled Niamh along behind him and greatly did she struggle against his iron grip, but it was to no avail. Her eyes darkened with panic and her vision became fogged so that she did not see what lay about her, though she supposed it was only more of the golden Mallorn. Her tears were the cause of her hindered vision and this irked er and she tried to wipe away her tears, but only more came; soon she was forced to let them fall, for as she rubbed her eyes they began to burn and nearly was she blinded fully.

The faerie pulled her along with greater force than celeborn had, for he was eager to have her, though it was that she would not be his willingly. He smiled, for he would take great pleasure in her struggling and in her quick movements and panicked sighs and gasps.

He looked over his shoulder at Niamh who was vainly trying to wipe away her tears and appear brave, and he laughed. She looked sharply to him, her eyes alight with emerald fire.

“Shut your mouth, you despicable creature!” She spat and kicked dirt upon his bare faerie’s feet. He sighed and shook away the dirt. He did nothing to harm her; he saw the wound bleeding at her side and he did not wish for to violate a corpse.

Niamh softly sighed in relief as she waited a harsh blow and none came. She wiped a salt tear that had fallen to her mouth. She looked about her at the trees and it was then that she saw something she did not expect to see in so fine a place as Lothlorien.... a branch of thorns, long and sharp. As she passed by them, she plucked them from the ground and hid them within her bodice. Though they scratched and tore at her flesh there, she did not mind it, for she would use them to strike the faerie. She would not give unto him her body easily. He would suffer, she would see to such things, and it mattered not if he struck her with rocks and sticks, for she would strike him in return.

But still, she was weary and she knew that she could not long defend herself against him. She looked ever for her lover in the trees, but she did not see him. She would let no more tears fall as she thought of her plight and of her distress, though they dearly wished for to fall and relieve her. She sighed heavily and looked about her once more... still seeing nothing but the golden trees of the beautiful Lorien.

The faerie lord Donnaghue did not relent in the speed he walked, even as Niamh grew more weary and stumbled oft. He peeled her to her feet and continued on with no give in his pace, weather it be going faster or slower.


The night grew deeper-- though still it was very young and not even to midnight as of yet --and the trees grew darker when the faerie finally halted and threw Niamh to the ground. She fell upon her hands and knees and winced from the burning pain she felt as the corse dirt pulled a bit of skin away from her little white fingers and from her knees.

The faerie threw away his cloak that he had worn long and it fell near to her, and her seeing this she felt her fear rise up as she forgot about the branch of thorns she held in her bodice. She spun about, clutching her knees to her breast as te faerie slowly began to approach her.

Donnaghue smiled grimly and removed the binding from his ebony hair so that is fell about him and over his shoulders. He pulled upon the laces of his outer robe and in a quick movement it fell over his shoulders and to his feet. He reached down to Niamh and by her-ear he pulled her to her feet and she cringed in pain. He pulled the laces from her gown and it fell over her shoulders and to her waist, revealing her bare breast, though she covered it with her arms as she quickly wrapped them about her shoulders.

Te faerie laughed at this and roughly pulled the gown over her hips and to her feet, but it ripped in two and could not be used again. Donnaghue kicked the gown away, once more casting Niamh to her knees, lifting her hands to his waist. She glanced over her shoulder quickly to the thorn branch that lay amid the folds of her gown. She soon began to weep for she could not reach it and the faerie’s hands were upon her own.

Donnaghue’s smile faded from his lips as he guided Niamh’s hands from his waist to his chest. With a harsh command, he bid her undo the leather toggles at his chest, and she did so and his robe fell to the ground near to his outer one. He stood naked and pale before her, though she turned her head away from what she saw before her, standing tall and erect below his waist, and she closed her eyes.

The faerie wrenched her chin up and she met his gaze as he smiled cruelly upon her. He lifted her to her feet and as he held her pretty face in face in his hands, he drew her face to his own, though she made-to pull away.

His lips were cold and thin as they met her own and they held no love within them. She gasped and with all of her might she pulled her face away from him, though in doing so she fell to the ground. But lo! for she fell beside the branch of thorns and Donnaghue did not see as she hid it behind her back, lined against her arm so that he would not see it.

The faerie was greatly irked that she did not meet his kiss with a kiss of her own, though it was to be expected, and he thrust her against a tree that stood nearby, pinning her there with his two strong arms so that she could not pull away nor escape from his clutches. He pressed his knee between her legs and pulled them apart, and he did not move his knee as he moved nearer to her and pressed his hips against her bely so that she felt his hardness there.

Niamh squirmed at this feeling, for though she despised the faerie and wanted no part of him, she felt herself growing warm and this warmth pooled between her legs. She wiped her tears away as she tried to shut her legs against him so that he could not enter her as she felt him lowering his hips. Panic over came her as she did not feel his strong legs give at the pressure she forced upon it, the pressure she forced upon it so that her legs would close.

She sobbed and wept uncontrollably as she fit her hand between her thighs and hindered the faerie’s intrusion. But this angered him and he struck her full in the face before ripping her hand away and breaking her delicate tips so that she could do nothing with her hand.

But he did not see her as she fingered the branch of thorns in her left hand. With a great sigh and a mighty thrust of her arm, she struck him fully upon his milky white brow and the thorns embedded in his flesh, causing him great pain. Blood seeped from his wounds and he looked upon the girl with anger and with a hatred as she had never seen.

He pulled the thorns from his brow and went to Niamh, grabbing her by the throat and lifting her high into the air. She wished to cry out, but found that she could not do this, nor could she speak or breath.

When she was a moment from death and when she was so weak she could not move, the faerie smiled in victory and lay her upon the ground, straddling her thighs as he placed his hardness at her entrance. She could not move, she could not speak, and she lay still for him, though she wept and in silent words pleaded for mercy.

But the faerie would not give such a blessing as mercy. He readied himself and with a great sigh, he thrust into her, quick and hard. She cried out in pain, her voice recovering and she cried out loudly and clearly, sobbing into the night as blood spurted forth upon his belly.

She grasped the soft grass that was so very fine but could do nothing to aid her. She looked above her into the trees, seeing no elves, no rescue to come for her.

Donnague was silent and still for a moment as Niamh’s cries dwindled into mere sobs, but when she fell silent, he began to pull slowly out of her, only to enter her once more with equal force as before. He thrust in and out of her many times, his breath slowly becoming heavier. She felt a warmth growing in her belly and she dreaded the feeling that came to her next.

As the faerie continued to thrust into her with such brute force, she felt her belly swarming with a feeling she had never known before, though she knew as to what it was. Tears fell fresh and anew as she felt herself drawing near to her edge, and she tried to pull away, though the faerie had a firm hold upon her shoulders.

His muscles wrenched in knots beneath his flesh as he felt Niamh tightening about his hardness and as he heard her sigh and cry out once more, he knew that she had come. Soon afterward, he released himself as well with a deep sigh of contentment and-she felt his warmth flood into her. She gasped and scurried away, for he had released his hold upon her. She sobbed out and wiped a wetness from her inner thighs with sighs of panic and woe.

“You were lovely,lady.” Donnaghue said. He rose from the ground and went to Niamh, and he bent low to kiss her, but at that moment he heard a moise behind him and with a cry he fell to the ground before he could even turn to see who it was that stood there. An arrow was in-his back.

Naimh gasped and looked to his attacker, and with a cry of joy, she leapt to her feet, for Haldir stood there, his arrow drawn in his bow. She reached out for him as she went quickly to him, but she saw a sudden blackness fall over her and she fell to the ground in a faint,for what she had witnessed had drained her of strength.
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Haldir raced to Niamh’s side as he saw her fall to the ground. He looked quickly to the faerie and when he saw that he did not move from where he lay, the elf quickly lifted Niamh into his arms. He hid her behind the bushes and in one quick movement he drew a second arrow to his bow and fired it upon the faerie so as to make certain that he would not wake soon.

Haldir sighed heavily and went to Niamh’s side once more,not looking upon her naked form as she lay there, unmoving and seemingly dead. He saw that her lovely face was bruised and bleeding, and that her shoulders bore marks upon them as if fingers had tightly gripped her there.

The gentle elf lay his hand upon her belly as his attention was drawn to her neck, where there was imprinted upon her flesh finger marks-that had given her soft flesh there a darkened hue.

Haldir was gentle, though he was arrogant and crude at times, and he wished not to look upon the beautiful form of a woman that was so very badly wounded. He did not see the gaping slash across her side as he lifted her into his arms and kissed her brow.

Such a sadness was in his heart that he nearly wept as he stroked her still brow. He rued that he had not known sooner that she had been taken. He thought that it was he who was in the blame for her violation by the faerie. Haldir kissed her mouth tenderly as he began to walk through the trees, removing his cloak with one hand as he held her with the other to cover her with the elven silk so that no other could lay eyes upon her form so broken as it was.

Slowly he walked amid the trees and when he reached his own flet he lay her down upon his bed and waited until she should wake. then it was that he would treat her wounds.