Lalaith was cold. Curled up like a small heap of clothes. She was not aware of the Elf who stood in front of her fighting off the Goblins, nor that the Army of the Mirkwood had arrived. Sounds had diminished and figures had turned into shadows.
The woman made an attempt to crawl away from the battle scene but her strength had seeped away like the blood that was pouring from her side.
Why? she thought. Why hadn't she made way to Gondor instead?

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O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

Sylied took a deep breath, seeingthe armies of his father come. "Finally," he thought, wearily backing away from the battle.

Mirima was right... they had all done enough. It was time to let the soldiers handle the few remaining goblins.

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Zekiera finished with his healing of the minor injury of one of the men then walked wearily over to the side. He noticed Lalaith still curled to the ground.

"See to that woman," he instructed a healer. "She is not well at all."

The healer nodded and headed speedily over to Lalaith, tending her wounds.

Zekiera sighed and drooped his head towards the ground, once again muttering softly in his native language, an indistict and unfermiliar tongue. He held up his hnds infront of his face as glowing blue words flashed into the air for but a split second. He then placed his hands down on the ground where he had drained the water from the grass.

The blackened grass sprang to life as he breathed out deeply and a gentle mist rose from his hands.

Zekiera then looked around the battle field once more and wished that his healing abilities were as good with humans as they were with plants.

The green grass was no longer gree, but stained red and black with the blood of life. The air no longer smelled of fragrant flowers that bloomed in the forest, but reaked of goblin stench and the overpowering odder of blood.

And the people... they no longer stood conversing cheerfully, arms folded and faces chipper. They now stood and sat wearily, weapons hanging and covered in blood, heads drooping as they caught their breath... and ever present look of gloom hanging over their faces.

Zekiera sighed and colapsed to the ground, falling into a cross-legged position, drooping his head down to touch the ground.

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Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

((so, where do we go from here?))

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Son of Bellatrix

Banner by Pandora

(Ho ho ho! Merryyy Christmas! *Ahem* I'm posting earlier than I expected to, but I cannot keep away from A Sleepless Malice )

Mirima stood up to look for her siblings. She could see Sylied going away from the battle. She gave a tiny smile. A good job too. She had been worried about her sister and two brothers. Mirima was just relieved that her father's troops had arrived, at last. She glanced down at Ellethwen, who's dark gaze steadily met the bright blue of Mirima's.
"We can go home soon," Mirima told her. "I will find you a room in Ada's courts. You have proved yourself a worthy warrior." She smiled and awaited the maiden's response.
"Thank you, I would be glad to stay in the king's courts. It is very kind of you," Ellethwen said. "And though I am sure you intended your last words as a compliment, I can take no joy in them. I have no love for fighting, though my parents insisted that I was trained to excell in it."
Mirima raised her golden eyebrows. "Why is that? You fought so skillfully."
"My love lies in all that is good and green on the earth," Ellethwen said. "The growing of flowers, the singing of songs. The smell of blood in this forest saddens me." She climbed to her feet, with an effort. "That aside, I would like to know your name, princess."
"Mirima," Mirima said, surprised that one who had fought so fiercely could have such a dislike for it. "And I already know your name, for this chivalric one here shouted it out to you so loudly... twice, wasn't it?" A laugh sounded in her voice.
Ellethwen cleared her throat, not keen to discuss the manner in which Taurvantian had rushed up to her and called her name. She didn't want to wonder if he cared about her or not. If he did not, and had just been doing the duty of someone kind-hearted but distant, then it would hurt too much to contemplate.
Still tired, she leaned against the bark of the tree. Mirima looked at her, frowning. The Lorien maiden still seemed battle-wearied. "Don't exert yourself too much," the Mirkwood princess warned. "You still look quite unwell."

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~~Siggy by Lembas~~

Maethoriel very nearly swaggered back to her previous companion. A satisfied smile was plastered on her face, very much like that of a Cheshire cat.

Gandalf looked around the field of battle with weary eyes once more.

"These children should not have to see battle at their front steps," he said sadly - his eyes fixing on poor Lalaith who looked very traumatized.

"Well, nothing for it now but to pick up the shards and fix them back together," Maethoriel replied in a rough voice.

"Not all are able to return to normal so quickly," Gandalf retorted shortly.

"As you may or may not have noticed Olorin, my normal is the battle field. So returning to the ways of court and civil conversation is very out of the ordinary and I do not think I shall ever be able to fit myself back into such a place."

"Nor do I. For once we are in agreement," Gandalf said with some regret. The woman's state he felt partially responsible for. "I must see to those that require assistance, you would do well to assist too."

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

Ryninial's hands worked deftly until she tied the makeshift bandage tightly. It was the best she could do in the current situations and she was just glad the blood had clot well enough that she would be fine until the elf maiden got proper healing in Mirkwood's halls. "Aye, my name is Ryninial Amora, I hail from Mirkwood and am a practicing healer... as you can see I am not much of a warrior... if I had had a weapon I could have held my own... but even then" She shrugged slightly with a smile on her pale lips. "And who is it that I am thanking for saving me?" She said in a way to ask the other elf for her name.

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Admired? Who was this man and what right did he have in touching the elven Prince of Mirkwood. If he wasn't so engrossed in the battle he would have been much harsher to this man who he did not know. "Who are you to tell me what kind of warrior I am?" He said, though his words were a bit strained now. The wound in his leg was not pleasant at all, and now that the Mirkwood army had come and were killing off of the goblins he could relax and focus on other things, which at this moment was the slash against his right leg, blood soaked his gray leggings, tainted with black poisons from the goblins.

=====

[I like your charrie Jax... so I'll keep him alive... for now ^^ haha ]

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The waves that C R A S H E D upon
The R O C K S that you were trying to step along

And in my head I heard them play a S O N G

(hehe. okeday. )

Sylied walked over to Legolas who was sparing verbaly with one of the men who had fought with them in the battle. "What is this all about?" he wondered to himself as he stood by to listen.
He did't linger long, however. There were many who needed help.

"Legolas," Sylied interupted softly. "You should really have your leg taken care of." Sylied shot a glance to the man that, in it's own subtle way, sugested he save his arguments for later.

"I'm going to go see about Deawen," Sylied finally said, patting Legolas on the shoulder.
----------------------------------------------------

Zekiera took a moment to catch his breath, trying to force the stench of fresh blood out of his nose. Finally he rose from his spot and began aiding the healers as best he could. He carried the wounded to a more comfortable spot... away from the battle and the blood stained ground... away from the body parts of dead goblins.

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Visit The Varsian Kingdom!

Taurvantian took a step backwards. There was a nagging thought at the back of his mind that seemed to tell him that he was intruding on Mirima and Ellethwen. Yet there was a stronger impulse inside him - and that impulse told him to stay. After all, there might be a... stray goblin coming by that might threaten the fair she-elves. He wouldn't want them to be alone and unprotected... oh no, he wouldn't. They were awfully good fighters, though... But they were tired.

And so he stayed near them. He tried not to eavesdrop too much on their conversation, but there came a point when such a thing became unavoidable. Every word that came forth from Ellethwen's lips seemed like the notes of a sweet song to his ears. She intrigued him... mystified him... he was bursting with the desire to learn more about her. Their short journey together, ending in this terrible battle scene, had been much too short.

He heard Mirima introducing herself to Ellethwen. But then... his head bowed and his hands twitched as he heard Mirima's latest comment. He could not meet her eyes. "I... wanted to see where she was. I... I... just don't think it proper to... leave you two alone on such a dangerous field of battle." He cleared his throat and turned away, his heart beating out a strange rhythm inside his chest.

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Banner from Nellie

Ellethwen looked up as she heard Taurvantian speak, listened to his voice faltering, and watched as he turned away from them. She remained silent for a few moments, then reached out a slender white hand to touch Taurvantian's shoulder. She was grateful to him, more grateful than he might guess. She had not been injured, but in the face of the prospect of it, Taurvantian had been swift and fearless, cutting down goblins in his path to get to her.
"You acted nobly," she said. Her fatigue was evident in her voice. "Thank you." She cast a look at Mirima, as if to reprimand her for teasing the Mirkwood elf. Mirima raised her eyebrows with a small smile. Ellethwen removed her hand and looked away.
Mirima could sense that something was going on between her two companions. She looked at Ellethwen curiously. Was this elf-maiden, who to Mirima seemed as cold and frosty as a winter morning, showing some sign of emotion?

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~~Siggy by Lembas~~

Why did he feel like this? Some strange, foreign sensation kept racing through Taurvantian's body. Maybe it was just the thrill of having survived a battle... no, he did not think so. The touch of Ellethwen's hand upon his shoulder threw his mind into a frenzy. He opened his mouth to speak... he must reply to her, gratefully acknowledge her thanks.... but nothing would come out. With a great effort, he finally was able to speak. "It was the least I could do for so fair a maiden," he replied to her, taking her slender white hand off his shoulder and bowing low as he pressed it gently against his lips.

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Banner from Nellie

Ellethwen was shaken with surprise as Taurvantian kissed her hand and bowed to her. She looked over his bowed golden head towards Mirima. The princess replied with a look of encouragement.
Ellethwen took the hand with which Taurvantian had taken hers and rose him up. She smiled fleetingly, one of those rare smiles that she hardly ever expressed; she was reminded of how she had smiled at him before, just that once.
Mirima smiled approvingly at the couple, who so contrasted in looks and behaviour. She glanced over at the battlefield, her mind still on her siblings. She hoped they were alright. Still, at least her father's forces were here. At least they were not left to fight off those creatures alone.

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~~Siggy by Lembas~~

[ Just wanted to let you know that I'm still here but I'm still thinking of how to continue Waiting for the opurtune moment me thinks ]

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O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

Sylied walked over to Mirima waiting until things wound down, for he didn't want to interupt. "Have you seen Deawen?" he asked her, finally approaching.

"I saw her after Father's forces came... she was heading away from the battle but I can't seem to find her now."


--------------------------------------------

Zekiera went out again, picking up a wounded soldier and taking him into the healer's room. Finally he came back to the human woman who had been wounded.

"She is ready to be moved," the healer told him. "She's badly injured but she should recover in time."

"Thankyou," Zekiera said in a low tone.

Zekiera picked the woman up and took her inside. He saw a soul in need, but not a weak soul. Somehow, in his mind, he equated her seemingly frail form with that of a wilde flower, yet an inner strength subsided inside.

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Deawen shifted on her branch as she saw her older brother from her perch. She watched him and overheard him ask where she was. She picked a leaf from her perch and let it fall.

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Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home

Sylied glanced up as a leaf fell from the tree. his first thought was a Goblin had taken refuge and was hiding. He spun aroudn and drew his sword and looked up in the tree, only to find his younger sister.

"Deawen!" Sylied said, releaved not only to find her but that it wasn't a Goblin. "I thought you were a goblin or something... Are you injured?"

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Deawen nodded and climbed down from her perch. The blood was already cloting on the cut by her eye. " Not a goblin," she said in a small voice. " My clothes are torn..." she said, though it sounded random and irrelavant it was only proof of the shock and terror she felt. Her world had been turned upside down.

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Lips, ripe as the berries in June
Red the rose, red the rose
Skin, pale as the light of the moon
Gently as she goes

as always a hero comes home