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Post subject:  Posted: April 11th, 2010, 9:17 am |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
Posts: 5673
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[ How much I feel like posting.. I first need to finish my preparations for an exam 
I've been plotting the entire morning though, so prepare for some Beör/ Luthien angst  ] _________________
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.
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Post subject: Posted: April 11th, 2010, 9:39 am |
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Joined: 18 October 2007
Posts: 4502
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(No problem Will - good luck with your exam! =)
I'm looking forward to your post; hooray for Luthien and Beör! Tehe, I've just made a Luthien banner  ) _________________ 
~~Siggy by Lembas~~
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Post subject: Posted: April 11th, 2010, 11:18 am |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
Posts: 5673
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[ I'll have my post up later tonight  Oh! And I love your Luthien banner Goldy! I'd pictured her much older but she looks so lovely. 
*puts up Beör banner while waiting for Lembas' awesome banner* ] _________________
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.
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Post subject: Posted: April 11th, 2010, 6:16 pm |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
Posts: 5673
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For moments Beör kept staring to the floor, aware from every sound and motion around him. He felt that something had been kindled inside of him but he could not detect what it was. It made his limbs feel cold yet his head dizzy. He was overcome by this; suddenly and without a cause, almost as if it was imposed on him by witchcraft. Those sparks inside him seemed to diminish his passiveness, his refusal to allow any emotions and replaced it with a strange sort of recklessness.
Slowly he rose, and walked over to Luthien. He noticed how pale she was and how her frail figure shivered in the cold. Like delicate flower, which was to be washed away by a storm, she stood there facing the shadows, vulnerable and alone.
Beör lay his hand on her arm, as he approached her. The fabric of the garment was thin and cool, it was like the Gondorian maiden seemed to radiate cold.
"Luthien," he said softly so only she could hear. "This is just a moment, which will pass like any other. Nothing lasts forever, not even this. You'll have to get through this.."
He wanted to tell her that everything would be alright, but he couldn't. The darkness was upon them; suffocating and petrifying. He wouldn't lie to her, nor to himself. The only thing he could hope for this would be over soon.
"Will you please sit down?" he asked again, gently, not averting his gaze. "It would not be good if you were to be caught spying around.."
[This might be just a perfect moment for the Mouth to return.. now Bëor and Luthien seem so much more open to eachother. *squees* I really like this couple  ] _________________
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.
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Post subject: Posted: April 11th, 2010, 8:05 pm |
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Joined: 01 November 2005
Posts: 322
Location: That way. *points left and right*
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Morwen glanced at the two, and shook her head again, and her eyes went back to the door. She wanted nothing more than to get away from the cloying sensation she got from watching those two.
(gonna bring in my other char provided it's okay with you goldy)
_________________ 
Banner and avvie by me
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Post subject: Posted: April 12th, 2010, 2:22 pm |
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Joined: 18 October 2007
Posts: 4502
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(Okay guys, prepare for drama!! Eeee, I'm excited!
Luthien and Beör forever! <3
And sure Morwen, that's okay with me - another charrie sounds cool! )
Luthien still stood with her back to the others, trying to fight off the biting cold by clenching her fists so hard that her fingernails dug into the palms of her hands. She did not hear or see Beör stand up and walk over to her, so it came as a shock when she felt his hand on her arm. Abruptly her head turned to face him, surprise in her grey-blue eyes. But the surprise shortly faded, replaced by an odd kind of contentedness, despite the awful chilliness that she felt.
Listening to his words, a small smile crept up on her features. How strange it was to hear him trying to comfort her; not so long ago, he had acted as if he despised her. “I’m alright,” she whispered, though her very slightly chattering teeth indicated otherwise. “I’m just a little susceptible to chills. That’s all. I’m fine.” Her determination to be alright, despite the terrible circumstances, was endearing. Luthien hated the thought that she might appear weak. As a child, when she had caught her worst chills, she would declare that she was perfectly warm, despite the fact that she had been wrapped up in at least five blankets, her feet propped up by the fireplace. Even then, she had pushed aside her own frailties.
She glanced down at his hand on her arm, and hesitantly, she laid her own hand over it. Her hand was icy cold. “You don’t have to worry about me, I promise.” Smiling up at him, she wondered why she liked Beör so very much. Even back when they had seemed half-way to enemies in the cells, she had liked him and wanted to help him. Even as her heart was thudding harder than she’d ever known it to, she told herself that it was because she was simply a person who liked to befriend. Secretly, she knew it was more than that. But she was not ready even to admit it to herself.
She held his gaze and her smile timidly widened, still holding his hand in reassurance, when suddenly the door to the adjoining room swung open, and she heard the Mouth’s voice behind her, dripping with sarcasm and acid.
“Well, well, well. This is sweet.”
Unwillingly, Luthien let go of Beör’s hand, seized by alarm at the Mouth’s sudden appearance. She looked round and saw Arawen standing behind him, looking as impassive as usual.
“Wouldn’t you agree, Arawen?” the Mouth took a step towards Luthien. “Morwen?” he shot a grin at the elven woman, who sat across the room. He may not have been able to see Luthien and Beör, but he could sense the deep emotional bond between them, the fact that all of their attention was focused on each other.
“So the ranger does have a weakness,” the monster continued. “And that weakness is a sweet little Gondorian girl with the shivers. How sentimental of you.”
Arawen stepped past the Mouth and walked over to his desk, not seeming to see anything. She stood by his empty chair, raising her head slightly; her gaze belonged to one who had seen everything already, witnessed similar scenes, and could find no reaction to it. The fate of the prisoners seemed obvious. For a moment the situation seemed so utterly hopeless, until she remembered that she was supposed to be trying to help them.
Not yet, she reminded herself, not until he’s gone.
The Mouth strolled over to Beör, shoving Luthien out of the way, facing the ranger menacingly. “Now what should be done with you?” he mused.
Luthien suddenly felt sick as she looked on, helpless. She cast a glance at Morwen, but she knew that she, like all the others in this room, were powerless. As the Mouth gripped Beör by the throat, Luthien knew that it was no idle threat this time. The Mouth was serious. He would kill him – and it was just a bit of fun to him, just a game. His prisoners didn’t mean anything. They were nothing.
Darting forward, Luthien pushed between the Mouth and Beör, standing in front of the ranger like a shield, her arms spread out. No hope was in her eyes, only dread for what would come next. She had dared to deny the Mouth another victim.
One terrifying moment passed, and the Mouth laughed; a loud, genuine, horrible laugh that rang out and echoed in the dark room. He grinned at Luthien.
“Braver that I thought,” he remarked. Luthien watched him in astonishment.
The Mouth nodded his head towards Arawen, who showed no sign of surprise. “You told me that the Gondorians had loyal blood,” he said. “You remember?”
“I remember,” Arawen replied coolly. “I told only the truth.”
“Well, I think we can keep these two. And keep the elf, as well. They’ll be useful for something,” the Mouth said idly, with a grin. “You’ll find work for them, won’t you?”
“Of course.”
Idiot. Providing me with the perfect chance to betray you.
Outwardly, there was no change in Arawen, but she knew that the Mouth had unknowingly given her a chance that would be the beginning of everything.
It would begin now, with this moment. Arawen was the one person that the Mouth had never been able to read. And the funny thing was, he didn’t even know it – he thought that her mind was as transparent as everyone else’s. He had never realised fully that she was different – at least, he had never been able to tell what made her different.
Luthien’s arms dropped to her sides, and she gazed at the Mouth in shock. He was not going to punish them.
Suddenly embarrassed, she stepped aside, her head down, glancing at Beör. Now he would know just how much he meant to her, and now she knew herself.
_________________
~~Siggy by Lembas~~
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Post subject: Posted: April 12th, 2010, 9:22 pm |
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Joined: 01 November 2005
Posts: 322
Location: That way. *points left and right*
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(sweet!)
Morwen stood, her hands clenched into fists. she was tempted to attack the mouth for harming Boer. She could handle tending the wounds he caused.. but she would not sit by and watch him inflict injuries. she suddenly moved, easily moving around Luthien, and hit the Mouth in the stomach with alot more force than she looked capable of.
"I will heal the wounds you inflict, I will bring them back from the brink of death...but I will not sit by and watch you inflict the wounds."
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Back down in the dungeons, a small group of orcs brought in an elf and threw him into a cell. The elf got to his fete, but too late. The cell was locked and they left. The dark haired elf looked around and spotted two others in the cells. He looked worried, his grey eyes slightly pained.
_________________
Banner and avvie by me
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Post subject: Posted: April 13th, 2010, 2:19 am |
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Joined: 04 January 2007
Posts: 1939
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(I guess I'll bring back Shan and Mab for the new elf to talk to. Haha.)
The woman gave a sort of half smile after the woman who exited her apartments and felt a disturbing feeling that she had just assisted someone in a way more than involving her own means. She was about to cheer herself with this thought when she felt a wave of nausea wash over her.
The magic that ate at her mind and that she fought against for these past hours to control caused her to stumble to her waste bin and retch. After the sick spell she slid from the bin and stretched across the floor langourously slipping into unconciousness for a small spell.
When the taste of bile had been washed away by copius amounts of alcohol she pushed herself to her feet, swaying momentarily as her body fought to find its balance. Once found she made good of her promise to Arawen, she strode out the door the lamp outside her room extinguishing immediately after her. If anyone had been in the hallway they would have witnessed another odd bit of magic that Maethoriel had coined. The woman seemed to disappear completely from sight, only in a ghost like manner her heavy boots seemed to click against the floor and then fade from memory.
-------------------------------------------------
Shan did not say much to the newcomer, he was busy walking around and counting the steps it took to pace the entire edge of the cell that caged him. The man was unusually calm in such circumstances. Not bitter and callous like the ranger or turned to ice like Arawen.
No, he was simply too normal to be in a cell. Nothing seemed to irk him, he gave no complaints and almost seemed jovial at times. It was the only way he could cope with the madness that surrounded him. To go through life as he would, to avoid the pain that was sure to come. He did not sell himself like the brunette Gondorian, but he refused to let his spirit die like Beor.
When the Elf seemed to settle and didn't look like he would cause an angry outburst the man deemed it acceptable to speak.
His voice was warm and kind, "Hello my friend," he said presumptuously as he had no way of knowing whether they would actually get along. "What is your name?"
------------------------------------------
In the cell across from Shan's own sat Mab who was arguably the most insane of anyone in Mordor. The only one who might top her could be Maethoriel - but her lucid moments outweighed her clouded mind and her madness also spark brilliance; Mab's rendered her nearly useless.
The blonde woman had not moved for the time since Luthien had been brought. She remained hugging the cold iron bars of her cell, the grip so tight that it resembled rigor mortise, the only thing that signaled that she remained alive was that the pressure finally drew blood. It coursed freely down her arm and dripped into a puddle on the floor in front of her.
The orcs that had just left the Elf's new abode began to pass by the rest on their way out. Most ignored the other prisoners, but one decided to stop and survey Mab who did nothing in the way of moving.
"We've been gettin' nofin' but rotten maggot ridden bread and meat. This one 'eres done in for sure," he said looking to his comrades.
"Get on wif ya' ya scum. That there belongs to the Mouth an' 'eel stuff you good if ya touch it."
"Ah, to the fiya wif ya. I'll have a good bit of meat and 'e won't give two looks, I'd wagah'."
Mab had been stunned into movement when an orc bringing in the newest captive hobbled over to her. He leered at the blood and Mab knew what was going to happen, but she was to weak to pull away quickly. The creature grabbed her arm and tried to latch onto the bleeding arm.
Some ferocity leaped up inside her and she shrieked, tearing at the creatures face yelling senseless curses. The orc jumped back and watched her skitter backward out of his reach, trembling and muttering under her breath while her pretty dark eyes glared at him. He stepped back and touched his face which bled like the woman's arm.
"Yah rat!" He yelled shaking a weapon at her.
The others laughed at his misfortune. "And yah said she was done for Sygor. Now get on before it gets a second wind." The orc, Sygor, gave in his treat but not before shaking her bars causing her to jump back again. Feeling his pride somewhat regained he sniffed and lumbered away with his comrades who continued to laugh.
_________________ Heavens no. Hell Yeah.  Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me
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Post subject: Posted: April 13th, 2010, 3:40 am |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
Posts: 5673
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[ I'm interested in who the new charrie is Morwen..!
And Mea, that must have been the coolest Orc speech I've read till so far! ]
Beör's brows furrowed slightly and he could not conceal a sceptical look as he listened to Luthien's reply. It was stubborness indeed, to tell one thing and but feel the other. But he kept himself, from making a crushing reply. He was not able to torment her even more in this situation.
Beör realised with a shock that she had taken his hand in hers. It was not her icy touch that startled him, but only thought that she would make such a gesture. He could not believe that anyone would want to befriend him voluntarily. His bitterness and harshness used to scare away all those who came close. It seemed that Luthien had cracked his dark shell.
That moment quickly passed, and the sarcastic voice of the evil creature sounded almost triumphing when he caught them. Beör's head jerked in the direction of the adjoining room, to which Arawen and the Mouth of Sauron had disappeared. Unconsciously, when Luthien let go of his hand, he positioned himself somewhat in front of her, as if she then would not be harmed.
The mocking words of the Mouth echoed in his ears, but the Ranger did not reply. He could not reply, as he was taken by a sudden, petrifying fear. He gasped for air when suddenly the gloved hand of the Mouth grasped his throat. With his own hands he tried to free his throat from the iron clasp, but he did not succeed. With an amazing force, the Mouth of Sauron tried to squeeze the life out of him and almost lifted him from the ground. His mind became dizzy and Beör thought for a moment faint-headedly, that this was the place where he would die..
Then, suddenly, the pressure was released from his throat. Beör collapsed to his knees and took a few deep, ragged breaths. He realised that it was Luthien, who was standing in front of him and who'd interrupted in the horrible scene. The words which were spoken, sounded faint and far away.Slowly his dizzyness ebbed away, but the feeling of shock remained. With his hand on his chest he attempted to control his breathing once again.
Beör looked up at Luthien, surprise written in his bright blue eyes, astonishment even. He did not catch Luthien's gaze. Although he realised what she had done, he could not believe it. _________________
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.
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Post subject: Posted: April 13th, 2010, 5:20 pm |
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Joined: 18 October 2007
Posts: 4502
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(The storyline is getting so exciting! ^_^
And I agree with Will, Maeth, the orc speech was awesome! )
Luthien watched, hardly believing the astonishing scene before her eyes, as Morwen approached the Mouth of Sauron and punched him hard in the stomach. Her heart started to thud so fast that she wondered if everyone else in the room could hear, and she swiftly turned, all at once terrified and panicked. Her mind alit with all of the awful ways in which the Mouth could retaliate to such an attack; but a small voice in the back of her mind told her that whatever happened, he had deserved it. He had asked for it. But Luthien’s thoughts did not rest long on his extraordinary matter, because when she looked back at Beör, he was collapsed kneeling on the floor, his breathing ragged. Without a moment’s hesitation she hurried to his side and knelt down beside him, everything else dwindling into insignificance.
“Beör, are you alright?” she asked him, something in her voice strained. Her lovely features were stricken with worry, and she reached out to put one arm around his shoulders. “I couldn’t let him hurt you, I couldn’t, I couldn’t…” she sounded halfway to tears, and what made this all the more amazing was that Luthien, as a rule, never cried about anything.
Arawen, still standing by the Mouth’s desk, looked from one scene to another, the sight of the Mouth doubled over with shock and pain, and Luthien kneeling beside Beör, who the Mouth would have killed if the girl had not intercepted.
She made no move towards her master. A fierce joy was kindled inside her to see him attacked, even though she knew what his reaction would be. Her frosty blue eyes shone, although her face remained blank. She looked on as he slowly raised himself up and faced Morwen, towering above her in height like a tall, threatening shadow that would throw all light into darkness.
“How brave you are,” he finally said. His voice sounded positively dangerous; gravelly with cunning and spite, sarcastic and taunting. He took further steps towards the elven woman. Raising a gloved hand, he clicked his fingers. “Arawen. Take care of her. Now.”
His order was specific.
Take care of her. Hurt her. Finish her.
Arawen remained by the desk, knowing what he wanted her to do. His wish, it seemed, would be her command. She would solve the problem. And why should he not believe that she would do what he wanted? She always had before. It had been a long time since the last time she had disobeyed him.
“Arawen!” The Mouth barked.
Arawen paused, then lightly shrugged her shoulders, her expression as cold as marble. “No.”
The Mouth turned. “I beg your pardon?”
“I said, no.” Her voice was blank, unfeeling, but her statement was obvious; she would not do it.
The Mouth only seemed to find it vaguely alarming; even a little amusing. “Well, well, well… you know the old saying. If you want something done, do it yourself.” He turned on Morwen again, and Arawen moved away from his desk, repulsed by what was going to happen, and slipped almost silently from the room, the door clicking softly behind her.
~~~
Arawen once again found herself outside Maethoriel’s room. The lamp by the door carried no flame; this, surely, was the sign.
Arawen, whilst in the side room with the Mouth, had told him the plan Maethoriel had laid out. It had turned out to be quite an ingenious lie, for he had agreed at once. The chance of getting rid of Maethoriel was one that he would grab with both hands. He had promised to give Arawen and Maethoriel temporary leave, and was under the illusion that whilst away, his trusted Gondorian servant would end the problem that was Maethoriel once and for all.
How easy it had been, to lie to him.
How brilliant, the idea of deceiving him, out-witting such a wicked creature who was a skilled liar himself. Standing beside the lamp in the darkness, Arawen suddenly realised that she felt sick, and that she had felt sick standing by the Mouth’s desk back in his chambers. He would kill Morwen. The elven woman was one prisoner who would have no chance to be saved.
No. No, he will not kill her, not yet… but he’ll destroy her. Break her, utterly…
Arawen took a deep breath and closed her eyes, willing herself to be separate from all of it, as she had always been. But she could not. She was part of it.
Patiently, she kindled a small flame and lit the lamp. She had told Maethoriel to expect her soon, and here she was. The plan had been put in motion. But it could not be carried out, yet… there was one final thing that needed to be taken care of.
They need to win the prisoners over. All of them. Every single one, and that would be no mean feat if they achieved it.
Arawen leaned against the wall outside Maethoriel’s room, and wondered how she had ended up here, in Mordor. The habitual darkness of Arawen’s life chilled her to the bone, and more than anything she wished herself away from it.
But it was going to change; it had to.
~~~
“What to do with you?” the Mouth enquired of Morwen. “Throw you to the orcs? They’d enjoy a fresh meal, it’d make a change. Or make a gift of you to one of the Nazgul? A little gesture like that might be pleasing. They have more means at their disposal to crush the spirit than you could ever dream of. Hmm, let’s see… the orc pits would be much more fun for everyone involved. A little daytrip. On the other hand, I enjoy dealing with these matters personally.”
_________________
~~Siggy by Lembas~~
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Post subject: Posted: April 13th, 2010, 9:07 pm |
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Joined: 01 November 2005
Posts: 322
Location: That way. *points left and right*
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(I agree with the previous two.. that orc speech was great!)
Morwen's set of instincts warred within her for a minute as the Mouth drew himself up and ordered Arawen to deal with her. When Arawen refused that settled Morwen's mind greatly, her resolve solidifying as Arawen left.
As he threatened her, Morwen did not back down. She stood firm and said calmly, "Well seeing as how I am already in a mess of trouble..." she moved to hit the Mouth again, with all her pent up frustration from the past 200 years right behind it.
*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*
Calanon was about to respond to the sudden question, when the orc's activities distracted him. he watched, his eyes showing distaste, but.. little else. In this place, there was little point to get angry, anger and fear was what ruled here anyways.
Once the orcs were gone, he returned his gaze to the man, "Calanon. And yourself?"
His accent was different than Morwen's, not in sound, but how noticeable it was. This elf obviously spoke far more elven than he did common. His gaze wasn't so much as piercing as knowing. A kind soul in a dark place, as it were.
_________________
Banner and avvie by me
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Post subject: Posted: April 14th, 2010, 5:42 pm |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
Posts: 5673
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[ So I'll have my last exam tommorow.. so I can't really post right now.. but in the mean time I just wanted to show off my wonderful new banner! ] _________________
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.
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Post subject: Posted: April 16th, 2010, 8:28 am |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
Posts: 5673
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Beör was astonished by Morwen's behaviour. Did she want to die? Had she not spent such a long time here to realise that she could not get away with this? Beör recognised her anger and despair, but never had he given in to them. Never had he in the past let his actions be guided by his emotions. Yet now, at this moment, Beör was not sure of himself anymore.
As Luthien rushed to his side, his mind was distracted for a moment. This time he did shiver under her touch, not from cold, but from shame. He looked up at her pretty face, now able to see the lights shining in her blue eyes and the glistering tears which ran down her cheeks, wondering how he could be worth the esteem of such a girl. Her emotional display confused him, as he did not know how to react. Softly he shushed. "Do not weep.." he spoke, while wiping her tears away with his hand. "I'm fine.." He crambled to his feet and carefully helped Luthien up as well.
The cold voice of the Mouth of Sauron called him back to the dark reality. Beör felt a new wave of nausea as the Mouth mentioned the Nine. Only one encounter with them had provided for unerasable, horrible memories. He watched Morwen, of whom he thought that she'd gone mad. She was just standing there; unmoved and seemingly uncaring. As the Elf made her reply, Beör figured what she was about to do. "No!" he rasped, and moved forward to stop Morwen. With all his force he took hold of her arms and tried to stop her wild movement. He did not care about her anger or her pain. He just could not stand by and watch how she condemed herself to death..
_________________
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.
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Post subject: Posted: April 17th, 2010, 5:48 pm |
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Joined: 18 October 2007
Posts: 4502
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Luthien hardly heard Morwen defying the Mouth; she felt lost in a haze of emotion and confusion, tears running freely down her cheeks, much to her embarrassment, for she never wept, however grave or upsetting a situation grew. But somehow, for some reason, this was different. She knew without a doubt that Beör would be dead now if she had not intercepted, and the shock of the fact felt too heavy for her shoulders. She imagined what would have happened if she had stayed where she was, frozen with horror; he would have been dead, and she would never, ever, ever have forgiven herself for it. At that thought more tears spilled from her eyes, and she had a sudden impulse to hug her fellow prisoner in relief; however, she restrained herself from such a gesture. She had already shown too much of her feelings, but she could not help it. As Beör wiped her tears, she found a smile from somewhere and let him help her to her feet.
She had calmed down now; she was so relieved that he was alright, that he had not been too badly hurt. She could scarcely believe what she had done; she had dared to defy the Mouth.
But she was now seized with a cold fear as she saw how Morwen took defying the Mouth to an entirely new level, and looked on in dread as the elven woman moved to hit their captor again. Just in time Beör darted forward and pulled Morwen back.
“Dear oh dear,” came the Mouth’s sardonic response, accompanied by a harsh laugh. “I think that someone is in grave, grave trouble. I wonder… whoever could it be?”
His gravelly voice held a new threat, a sinister hidden meaning. Morwen had just made the deadliest of mistakes, and she would pay dearly for it; the Mouth would make sure.
Luthien went forward and gently touched Morwen’s arm. “Sa farn palan*,” she whispered, so low that only Morwen and Beör would be able to hear, suddenly feeling compelled to speak in Elvish instead, a language which the Mouth scorned, a language that linked his three prisoners together. Some small source of hope, at least, if there was none other.
The Mouth took a step towards Morwen. Beör and Luthien did not even seem to matter to him; there was only him and his victim. His grisly smile held it’s usual malice and scorn, but there was something more dangerous in it; something incomprehensible.
“I could finish you,” he said, his voice low and brimming with hatred. “I could break you, just like that, with a click of my fingers. With a nod of my head. Even if Arawen has suddenly developed a conscience doesn’t mean I don’t have others at my disposal that would gladly do it. Why, I could even do it myself, if I so wished. But something tells me that I should refrain from such a light punishment. I think that the cruelest punishment of all would be to let you live. You will see what comes of this act of defiance, this foolishness. Your sheer folly.” He gave another harsh, terrible laugh. “You prided yourself on knowing that fighting never did any good – but you’ve gone against your own theory.”
Taking a step back, he shook his head, his grin widening now. Raising a gloved hand, he swept it through the air, and the door of his chambers suddenly creaked open. The air rapidly felt as cold as ice, filled with evil and almost claustrophobic power; as if invisible smoke had filled the room. Her eyes slightly round, Luthien’s hand strayed to her throat again; it felt thick, as if she was choking on something.
The Mouth had much power at his disposal; powers that were only thanks to the Dark Lord. But fearsome they were all the same. They were not used often, for the Mouth liked to surprise his victims. It was moments like these that made it all too clear that the Mouth was not simply all tool; he could and would do terrible things.
It was all too obvious that this display of power was not simply to open the door and show the way out for his prisoners; this became apparent in a few simple moments.
Luthien choked, both hands at her throat now, her brow furrowed in confusion and fear; she felt as if all her air was being cut off. Growing ever more panicked, she tried desperately to breathe, reaching out and clasping at Beör’s hand, casting a terrified look at Morwen.
Am I going to die?
Only a second after what Luthien wondered might be her last thought, a rush of air returned to her throat and she stumbled with surprise and relief, breathing naturally again, no longer feeling as if she was being strangled. Her feet seemed to lose coordination and she fell back.
“You see,” the Mouth said, to Morwen. “You see what will happen, as a result of your defiance to me. You can all go.”
The door was open, and all of the prisoners, if barely, held onto their lives.
* This is far enough
_________________
~~Siggy by Lembas~~
Last edited by ~Goldleaf~ on July 26th, 2010, 4:37 pm, edited 1 time in total.
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Post subject: Posted: April 17th, 2010, 7:38 pm |
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Joined: 01 November 2005
Posts: 322
Location: That way. *points left and right*
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Morwen hissed as Beor pulled her back and she fought against his grip, to little avail. By the time she could even loosen his grip, it was too late.
The elf was going to respond, but Luthien's words called her back from the cloud of rage that had over taken her.
She glared at the Mouth, her fear gone.. then as he waved his hand, she braced herself.. but she couldn't entirely brace herself for what happened. Even as Luthien felt the choking sensation, which alone to Morwen was difficult, bringing up memories she'd rather not remember.
As Beor's arms fell from Morwen's arms, Morwen put a hand to her neck. Then the pain kicked in. The nearly blinding pain that flared through several old wounds was the response to the dark power the Mouth was currently using. Morwen pressed her other hand to her side, wrapping her arm around her ribcage painfully even as her knees buckled and she dropped forward onto her knees.
Once it ended, Morwen coughed softly, looking down to hide how much pain she felt. It was still enough to keep Morwen from moving for now. However, her senses soon returned to her, though they were all too sharp from the pain.
"You say that you could break me without a second thought.. yet you don't. One could wonder why... however I do not. Even as you know my emotions, I know your mind. You seek to watch me slowly break.. and fight it. I will tell you this: I will never break to a wretched being like you." Morwen's tone was quiet, and painfilled, but behind it was the vehemence of an elf that had been held captive for too long. She however, did not move too stand, she knew if she tried, she'd fall again.
(OOC:... muses got a little carried away today.)
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Banner and avvie by me
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Post subject: Posted: April 18th, 2010, 2:36 am |
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Joined: 04 January 2007
Posts: 1939
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(Now that I think about it Maethoriel vs. the Mouth would be a battle of epic proportions. But I don't think that will fit in with the cloak and dagger escape, maybe we can rock that later after they escape during the battle at the Black Gates or something.)
Maethoriel felt a distinct tug at the corner of her mind. It was followed by the sensation of being dragged from herself again and she saw clearly a flickering red lamp at the end of a tunnel and a silhouetted figure that was there. She was clearly called, and even more clearly absent. The woman released a heavy sigh.
As she left her rooms Maethoriel had hoped for several weeks maybe more time to plan and plot. Gain allies and make the good kind of enemies that turn on each other, unfortunately Arawen gave her less than two hours. However, the woman moved fast enough and had made at least one good connection and obtained more than enough information on the guards set to watch for the next few months. Thankfully the cards seemed to be in her favor (not that she didn't always have a few cheats).
How she appeared so quickly next to Arawen on the other side of the lamp when her shoes normally had such a distinct click was a question that could hardly be answered. Then again it was not the question she wanted asked.
No, far better questions like... Her mind jolted and she looked at Arawen peculiarly like someone looking through glass out into the day.
"Oh, I see someone has done something stupid," she said with a lazy and gravelled drawl. "I suppose your haste is well warranted then. Get yourself packed, you and I leave tomorrow which means you have a night to gain their trust and we have the next few days to break them out." Her words were precise and a bit stressed as she focused to keep her mind from wandering.
The older half-elf turned and looked at the stern face of the woman by the lamp. She could see that she was denying herself any emotion again. That would change in time certainly, it had to or they would be doomed. The prisoners wouldn't follow a block of vengeful ice....
Vengeful, the word rang through her mind and her eyes fixed on the woman again. Maethoriel knew the cravings of a long kept prisoner; seeing their master tormented would be joyous. That could not happen here. They had to escape quickly and without ceremony. She'd tell Arawen.
"Arawen, heed this advice," she said looking at the woman. "Make no move to take revenge on the Mouth. He yet has a part in this war that must not go unfinished, and will recieve justice at the end. And if he does not then I personally shall see to hunting him down. He will not escape this war alive, but you are quite done with murder," as she spoke her dark eyes seemed alight with the mad spark that drove her.
It was a promise as best as she could give one and although it held no explicit threat its implications would have horrified the Mouth. Maethoriel was capable of causing pain, suffering, and horror without focusin all her attention on it. He mind always seemed elsewhere and many in Mordor fought hard not to catch her attention too keenly less that feiry gaze fix on them and surely consume them alive.
_________________ Heavens no. Hell Yeah.Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me
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