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Post subject:  Posted: April 18th, 2010, 7:40 pm |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
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[ I didn't have internet this weekend.. my post will be up tommorow..  ] _________________
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 19th, 2010, 3:45 pm |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
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When the Mouth raised his hand, the cold air seemed to turn to ice in his lungs. All of the sudden he was chilled to the bone. Like an infection, the cold seemed to spread from his heart to his limbs. An awful, numbing cold it was, which was accompanied by a petrifying dread. Beör's mind seemed to become foggy and only horrible thoughts went on in his head as if he was walking through a mist of despair.
Suddenly, the cold mist seemed to eb away and Beör somehow could cast off the shadow, although the cold still remained. He realised that Luthien had grabbed his hand, and that the touch of her small hand had driven out the darkness. When he turned to Luthien, he quickly came to her aid, as she seemed to black out. He caught her slim figure, which trembled, in his arms and supported her.
The spells and witchcraft within the room seemed to have diminished and Beör glanced shortly at the opened doors. Without hesitation, he gently took Luthien's arm and guided her towards the door and the dark hallway. Not once did he glance back. Although he had just tried to prevent Morwen from making a huge mistake he couldn't help but feel that the Elf was responsible for this. Upon leaving the room, the Ranger tried to remain calm, but somehow his fear remained, as he was unsure of what darkness awaited them.
_________________
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 19th, 2010, 5:37 pm |
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Joined: 18 October 2007
Posts: 4502
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Luthien was vaguely aware, amidst the confusion and the dizziness, of Beör catching her as she stumbled backwards. The air may have returned to her throat, but she felt sick and disorientated. She had felt the full impact of the Mouth’s dark magic, and the knowledge of such power was truly sickening. As Beör guided her from the Mouth’s chambers, she almost blindly followed, not knowing where she was going; she only knew that her eyesight was swimming and that she felt ill. Her footsteps were clumsy as she tripped along the long, dark, corridor, carrying her further and further away from the evil that lay behind them. It was only when they reached the bottom of the corridor that the shock kicked in.
It was almost as if she had been punched; she fell back and collapsed to the floor, her eyesight sharpening again. She was hit by a wave of nausea, and she struggled to get back to her feet.
“I’m sorry,” she murmured, feeling somehow, ridiculously, that it was her fault. The sickness she felt was slowly fading, and she felt slightly more balanced as she hauled herself upwards. She looked up at Beör, her hand involuntarily going to her forehead, as if she had a headache. “I…” she paused, not knowing what to say. There were thousands of things she could have said, but they would have all been insufficient for what she wanted to express. Finally, she took a deep breath, and leaned against the wall. “He… he would have killed you.” Her voice was slightly faint, and disbelieving. The fact of what the Mouth would have done was still terrifying, and she could scarcely believe that she had, in effect, saved Beör.
Her blue-grey gaze was fixed on him; there was something so purely innocent about that gaze. It was not naïve, but it was untouched by any darkness, any bitterness. Luthien looked as if she did not belong in Mordor. She was a slender, pale young woman, clad in a gown of primrose velvet with long, hanging sleeves. A jeweled belt was fixed about her waist, and plaited into her long, dark blonde hair were shimmering beads.
But the gown was stained with dust and her own blood; and she looked exhausted. She had been brushed by the evil of this land, but it had not destroyed her. The darkness that dwelt here would never enter her soul or her heart.
Still her gaze did not move elsewhere as she took a few moments to regain her balance properly, and a small smile took a hold of her features, very slightly, a smile of one who is tired and has been sorely hurt, but one who ultimately has not been beaten.
“I’m glad I stopped him,” she said, simply. “I’m so glad. If anything had happened to you, I don’t know what I would have done…” she broke off suddenly, as if embarrassed, and her gaze went to the floor. But one moment passed and it went back to him again. “Thank you for just now. I really thought… I really thought that I was going to die. I thought that this dark place would be the last sight I ever saw.”
~~~
Arawen did not so much as flinch as Maethoriel appeared on the other side of the lantern, as if out of thin air. Arawen was familiar with dark magic; she had seen it, witnessed it. Upon one occasion the Mouth had even offered to teach her, to pass down to her skills that he thought might be useful to her for interrogation. She had been instantly revolted, and had coldly declined his offer. She doubted if he really would have passed down to her anything of significance. Perhaps a few tricks. The Mouth would never risk another possessing the powers that he had; that was why he resented Maethoriel so much. He hated her very presence here in Mordor, despised it. But more than anything, he hated her because she did not pick a side and stick to it. He might have had some use for her, had she not stubbornly stayed in no man’s land.
Listening to Maethoriel’s words, Arawen gave a slight shrug of her shoulders. “There has been an unfortunate incident,” she said with her usual impassiveness. “Better we leave sooner rather than later, I suppose. But…” at this she paused, and her bright blue gaze was very stern, “…one night is hardly enough time to gain the trust of a whole collective of very angry and resentful prisoners. It will be a miracle if such a thing is achieved.”
Meeting Maethoriel’s gaze directly, it was as if she could sense the other woman’s very thoughts. She knew that Maethoriel wanted Arawen to have some kind of a reaction; she wanted her to drop the icy, aloof veneer and suddenly become a being recognisable as human. But it was not that easy. Not nearly so easy.
Upon hearing Maethoriel’s next words, Arawen gave a strange smile. “Trust me, I wish to see him dead, but I would never make any rash move. I’ve been trained too long for that.” Her tone was sarcastic. “You know, he takes pride in subtlety. I’ve seen it many times. Over and over again… dangling threats instead of carrying out a sentence. Destruction by more understated means. In all of this he thinks himself so masterly, but it is nothing more than a delusion. He thinks himself a kind of king, and we are meant to be his people… he’s nothing. Nothing compared to what lies above.”
Her reference to the Eye surprised her. She wondered how she had just said all that she had; she never confided a word to a single person. The words had spilled out of her like acid, blank and cold as they were. Her unsettling gaze stayed unwavering on Maethoriel, and a few moments passed. “What I am trying to say,” she said, eventually, “is that I would not endanger this fragile situation with rashness. Perhaps you could find it possible to trust me.”
Her smile widened at the thought of people like them trusting anyone else. And yet here they were, the most unlikely pair of allies.
~~~
The Mouth sensed Luthien and Beör leaving his chambers, and he made no move to stop them. In this moment all of his attention was fixed on Morwen. His ghastly voice very slow, and very steady, he spoke, without so much as a toothy smile. “If you dare defy me again I will punish you by harming one of your fellow prisoners. You, yourself, can go unscathed for all I care – but I swear if you defy me you will see them all dead at your feet.” He pointed towards the door. There was something eerie about how quiet his tone was, how still the air around him seemed, a sharp contrast with the atmosphere that had been filled with dark magic a few moments ago. “Now, leave. I’ve made my promise, she-elf.”
He calmly walked over to his desk and seated himself, and only then did he let himself grin, that hideous display of malice and hated.
_________________ 
~~Siggy by Lembas~~
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Post subject: Posted: April 19th, 2010, 6:45 pm |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
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Beör put one arm around Luthien's shoulders as he guided her down the hallway. The girl seemed hardly aware of what happened around her. His heart seemed to pound in his chest, his legs trembled. It seemed that he'd just escaped a nightmare, but the nightmare had kneaded and changed him. The terror of the evil servant of Sauron seemed to have affected him in such a way that he changed for the good.
Luthien stumbled and fell and the Ranger quickly reached out for her, worried of what the black sorcery might have done to the frail girl. She spoke softly and her words somehow seemed to warm his heart, which still felt bitter cold.
"I would not have minded it.." Beör spoke quietly, pain written on his face . "There's nothing out there for me anymore.. Nothing but betrayal and evil. Or so I thought for a very long time." His blue eyes searched hers, but he could not keep her gaze, as he still felt embarrassed and somehow inferior. "But now I've found a reason to keep fighting.." He stared at the floor for a moment. Compared to Luthien's dirty yet fair appearance, Beör looked miserable indeed, with his ragged shirt and worn, dirty trousers.
After a short silence he glanced at the Gondorian maiden and took her hand in his. "No," he said silently. "It's I who ought to thank you.." A small smile lay on his lips, which suddenly made his worried-stricken face look years younger. "Come, lets walk quickly now and get as far away from here as possible."
_________________
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 19th, 2010, 8:52 pm |
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Joined: 01 November 2005
Posts: 322
Location: That way. *points left and right*
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Morwen listened to his words still glaring. She forced herself up and walked steadily from the room, not responding. There was no point, and reality hit her hard not far from the room. She had caused the others pain; she sighed softly.
"I had forgotten" she whispered to herself. She walked, headed back to the cells, her hand running along the wall. Then.. she stopped. She was at one particular intersection. She gazed down the long hallway, the hall the led to the exit of the hell, this prison.
She approached the portal silently and watched it, her spirit and mind at war. She wanted nothing more to escape, to leave this place and call it a nightmare like everything else. She pressed a hand to the wall and hissed softly when the rough stone cut her hand.
She looked at the blood that came from the cut, and it brought her back to the painful reality she hated to face. She was a prisoner here, body and mind, and practically spirit. With that, Morwen turned back and headed back to the cells. However, she paused, seeing Beor and Luthien.
"Forgive me..." she murmured, not knowing if they would hear... or care. She couldn't even use the elven tongue now, the language she cherished. She simply couldn't.
She made her way back to the cells, and moved to go back to her normal spot, then saw an all too familiar face speaking with one of the other prisoners.. and her face paled.
"Calanon..."
The male elf turned and his eyes got bright and he looked delighted, "Morwen! I finally found you!"
"yes, but now you're trapped here too."
"Only for now. It's not permanent." Calanon chided gently, making Morwen look down.
_________________ 
Banner and avvie by me
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Post subject: Posted: April 23rd, 2010, 11:01 am |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
Posts: 5673
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[ Goldy, I just wanted to say that I adore your new banner. The colors are stunning and the font is awesome as well!  Lembas is a genius!
Consider this random post as a bump ] _________________
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 23rd, 2010, 6:14 pm |
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Joined: 04 January 2007
Posts: 1939
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Maethoriel held out her hands as if in mock apology, although her words were directly opposite. "Fault me not for your own quick actions. I too shall be rushed in my own part," she said with a small chuckle. She understood what she was asking Arawen to accomplish would be a nearly impossible task, but she asked it for good reasons.
The woman clearly did not see it as she still looked put out, so Maethoriel graciously offered a more detailed explanation. "The Mouth shall wish you to leave as soon as possible and since you are a slave to his will with little effects of your own the night after the request made would seem appropriate. You can extend it another night saying you are doubling your provisions, but any longer than that and it shall put doubt into his mind. He is not so clever as I, but infinitely more impatient and you will have to take into account to satisfy that or he should question you more in depth. Which would never do," she finished the explanation with a wave of her hand as if she were brushing away cobwebs from a dusty shelf.
The woman's words of her lack of want for revenge soothed her previous worry, and so being soothed cleared her mind for a few precious moments. She let out a sigh of relief that Arawen would no doubt take as one geared towards her lack of rashness.
"It is good to hear you say so. Let it continue that way. Yes, Sauron is indeed a force to reckon with," she said idly, moving aside a strand of hair that fell from the ill kept braid of hair and she was lost in thought for a few minutes. Once again it could be noted as strange - the ease in which she spoke of the Lord of Mordor even while in such close vicinity to his strong hold. She brightened for a moment and spoke again as her mind returned to the subject at hand.
"It is lucky we will deal with him naught. That is left to better and more courageous people," she said with such certainty that had their situation not been dire it would have been a comforting thought.
For the second time in a few hours Maethoriel had cause to laugh. Even more remarkable was that the cause of laughter came from the same person.
"Perhaps you could find it possible to trust me." She heard Arawen say exasperatedly.
"Not a chance. Give it a few years and ask me the same, then the answer might be different. As of right now though, you have not given me good cause to dislike you enough not to trust you. Which is a start," she said blankly.
"Now, off you go. We can't have you seen walking around here too much. Talk to them tonight, convince them if you can," her voice was low and urgent now. "We should leave tomorrow, but if your quest proves unfruitful get the other night. But you really must not fail. Something is stirring in the air this evening that may give us a good cover."
The lamp above them extinguished and the passage went completely black. Maethoriel walked past Arawen with such quickness in her step that it created a small breeze.
"Light it if you need help or when you have news," the older woman directed as she passed. "I am off to get a map."
_________________ Heavens no. Hell Yeah.  Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me
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Post subject: Posted: April 24th, 2010, 2:06 pm |
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Joined: 18 October 2007
Posts: 4502
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Arawen observed Maethoriel as she spoke, sifting over everything of importance. Still leaning against the wall outside the woman’s room, she gave a small nod, her head only very slightly turned towards Maethoriel. Her smile had now vanished, not in discontent or irritation of any kind; she was thinking. Arawen may have been thousands of years younger than the half-elven woman but she had a sharp mind which missed nothing. Her grim intellect had always been something the Mouth had missed or failed to understand; but then, there were many things that he had failed to understand about her, from the very first moment he had ordered her into his servitude.
“If required, I can always obtain more time,” she said shortly. “He will surely grant me it if needs be.” She did not attempt to elaborate more on this statement of fact. Arawen knew that the Mouth, however impatient he was in many things, would like it if Maethoriel’s supposed assassination seemed to be intricately planned. If he was certain that the deed would be completed with emphasis on structure and detail, then he would have nothing to complain of. After a pause Arawen ceased to recline, however elegantly, against the wall and pulled herself to her full height. “He is willing to wait for your death. In this case, I believe he considers that the dish is best served cold.”
Arawen did not flinch at the casual mention of Sauron’s name. There was not much, after all, in a name. So she felt no tug of terror, no start of surprise, but instead, overlooked the reference entirely. She laughed quietly at what Maethoriel said next.
“Well said. It cannot be said that either of us have earned each other’s complete trust as yet. Which I daresay is not at all surprising.” For a moment, the flicker of a smile Arawen gave seemed almost genuine; human, almost. That small expression spoke a great deal of a girl who had all but faded away; a girl with a sense of humour, a girl who loved to laugh. But then the moment was gone as soon as it had arrived, and gave way to the cold young woman that onlookers were used to.
“Agreed,” she said. “Though there is the possibility of buying more time, it’s most logical if we set out sooner rather than later. I shall do what I can to try and win the prisoners round, but it shall be a difficult task. You have no idea of the depth of their hatred.” Her smile was now bitter and empty.
As the lamp extinguished, she pulled the hood of her light blue cloak over her dark hair and turned, the material of the cloak swishing slightly. Hearing Maethoriel walk away, and the woman’s words, Arawen called quietly over her shoulder. Though her tone was soft-pitched Maethoriel would be able to hear in the long, dark, silent corridor.
“Good luck with your errand.”
And then with another swish she set off down the corridor in the opposite direction of the one Maethoriel took, her footsteps as swift as usual. Over the years Arawen had developed the skill of walking quickly; to bring a message, to get away, or to hunt. It was almost as if she had never been standing there under the lantern.
~~~
As Luthien silently listened to Beör speak, her expression was intent, though she still felt very slightly dizzy. She kept one hand on the wall beside her to balance herself, fearing that if she attempted to do so alone she might risk collapsing again, which had embarrassed her. Above all Luthien did not want to appear weak. She did not know that no one could possibly suspect her of such a trait, after the bravery she had shown back in the Mouth’s chambers.
However ill she felt, Beör’s words brought happiness to her that brightly contrasted with the darkness of the situation they found themselves in. “I knew that you had not given up,” she said, quietly, but resolutely. “I knew. Even when you protested otherwise back in the cells.” He had taken her hand, and she held it, smiling at him despite the fact that her head had started spinning again. “There has to be some hope for everyone. Seeing you smile is thanks enough for me.”
Abruptly, she blushed, and she averted her gaze, hoping she had not spoken too boldly. But she had seen the change in Beör, and it was a joyful sight to see. She had not been able to help commenting on it. After a small moment, she looked up. “Yes… we should walk quickly… that is, if I’m not too much of a predicament.” She removed her balance from the wall, gripping Beör’s hand for balance. She stumbled, but determinedly tried to keep her feet steady on the ground.
Luthien never gave up on anything; that was one thoroughly important quality about her. Anyone who failed to recognise her determination was either blind, or foolish, or both.
“It’s alright…” Luthien still held Beör’s hand firmly, and her balance wobbled slightly, but she did not let herself give into the aftereffect of nausea and lightheadedness of the Mouth’s dark magic. “Now…” she paused, as if a thought had occurred. She turned her head towards her companion. “Where do we go?”
It was a question that needed answering. Neither of them knew their way around the warren that was this tower; all kinds of danger could be lurking anywhere, at any time. It seemed strange that the Mouth had let them go, almost as if he wanted them to wander around and happen upon some unfortunate accident.
Luthien might have said more, when she heard a step behind them, and without thinking, she turned to see who it was, and stumbled to the ground, her head swimming.
A figure in a sky-blue cloak approached her, footsteps smooth, bent down, and extended a pale hand towards her. Apprehensively, Luthien reached out, and the figure, with surprising strength for one of such a slender build, pulled her up to her feet.
Unaware that she even did so, Luthien slipped her arm through Beör’s, staring at the apparently helpful stranger, who now lifted her hood, revealing dark hair, pale features, and bright blue eyes.
Arawen.
~~~
The Mouth sat at his desk, feeling satisfied that he had had some amusement for the day. The prisoners were one of his peculiar indulgences; like pieces on a chessboard that he would only discard when the game grew tiresome. Their pain, their suffering, and toil never failed to amuse him. And with a job like his, little entertainments were necessary. He failed utterly to see why he should be denied his wish to inflict pain. Pain was commonplace here. It was a currency, almost. Lives could be traded and bought, oaths could be sworn… if any signatures needed putting to a page, it was almost surprising that they were not written in blood. It struck the Mouth, with that small train of thought, what a brilliant irony that would be. But then, the Dark Lord’s dealings did not require paperwork. His dealings lay in more ambiguous methods.
It was in that moment that the familiar, and no longer painful, rush of flames filled his mind, and all other thoughts were scattered away, meaningless, cast into shadow. All of his concentration was called now to the one he served, the one he was bound to serve, until his last breath of mortal life.
You are needed.
Sauron called to him. And the Mouth never used delaying tactics when he heard this particular summoning.
_________________
~~Siggy by Lembas~~
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Post subject: Posted: April 25th, 2010, 6:04 pm |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
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Beör listened quietly to Luthien's words and thought of the days and weeks before. The day that she was brought in only seemed a distant memory, after which so many things had passed. Somehow her presence had brightened the darkness which filled his life and called him back to he light. He'd somehow acknowledged his feelings and had become more human..
With a concerned glance he watched how Luthien stumbled forwards and gripped his hand for support, but didn't say anything, knowing it was useless to argue. When she posed her question, the Ranger was at a loss for a moment. The possibilty of making a decision of his own confused him and increased his uncertainty. The reason why the Mouth of Sauron had let them go freely, and not detained, had puzzeled him exceedingly. But now, for the first time, he realised that it might be another trap in one of his twisted games. "We better head back to the cells," he said with a grimace, since it was the last thing he would want to do. "If we linger here, in these hallways, there's a great chance that we run into armed vermin, who will spear us to their swords."
Suddenly they both looked up as a figure appeared around the corner. "Speaking of the devil.." Beör murmured to himself. Before he could even see that this figure was a human instead of an orc, he leaped forwards as Luthien almost fainted once more. The cloaked stranger helped her up, and as Luthien took his arm, Beör protectively stood beside her.
When the stranger revealed her identity, he took another step forwards. "You.." he growled, his voice low as he stared at Arawen with a dark and dangerous gleam in his piercing blue eyes. A magnificent hatred, which he had harboured for the past years, overwhelmed him. The lust of revenge, of which he'd dreamt in pain and resentment, now took hold of him. His hands trembled and Beör knew that she would not leave he would surely kill her.
"If you value your miserable, pathetic life," he hissed softly. "I suggest that you leave or I swear on my life that I will kill you."
_________________
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: May 1st, 2010, 7:24 am |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
Posts: 5673
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[ Bumpish for Morwen ] _________________
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: May 1st, 2010, 4:14 pm |
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Joined: 01 November 2005
Posts: 322
Location: That way. *points left and right*
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(My apologies. i have had an insanely busy week.)
Morwen heard a sound then watched as Calanon picked the lock of the cell. Calanon grinned, "Ah the joys of too many years of being bored."
"But-... how did-... that's not fair, Calanon!" Morwen sounded frustrated.
"I know" he grinned, moving to free Mab and Shan. Morwen sighed softly, then heard orcs coming to check on the prisoners.
she tensed and Calanon nodded to her. Morwen shook her head no, "I can't.. he'll kill one of the others..."
"Then I'll handle it" Calanon sighed. He moved quickly, and was able to kill the group of three orcs nearly soundlessly.. and now he was armed, "That was easy." he tossed Morwen a blade, which she caught and twirled a little, recalling her own training. "we need to find the others" she said, as Calanon opened Shan's cell and worked on Mab's.
_________________
Banner and avvie by me
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Post subject: Posted: May 1st, 2010, 5:28 pm |
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Joined: 18 October 2007
Posts: 4502
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(Welcome back Morwen! 
The prisoners aren’t going to stage their escape just yet - it’ll be a little while until that happens, since Arawen and Maethoriel have a plan. =) So perhaps this can be a failed attempt; it'll make for some excellent drama! )
Arawen observed Beör’s reaction wordlessly, her expression never changing from the blank, impassive gaze of one who does not care if they live or die. For a moment she wanted him to do it; she wanted him to kill her, and let her have some peace, finally, after so long. But it did not take long for common sense to prevail, and she very slightly shook her head, her dark hair swinging. “I’m afraid I can’t allow you to do that,” she said, quietly. “If you attempt to attack me, I’ll be forced to respond. And believe me. You don’t want that.”
Her words were true. Arawen had been trained, and there was no denying her skill in battle, with a blade or without. There was a reason why orcs scuttled past her in terror whenever she walked by; why her name might as well have been a codeword for death. She did not want to hurt the ranger; quite the opposite. Above all, she did not want him to force her to do something she did not wish to do.
Her bright blue gaze flickered past the furious man towards Luthien, who still held his arm, looking as if she was struggling to keep her balance. Something kindled within Arawen’s heart, which was usually so cold and barren of any feeling. It was pity. She knew dark magic when she saw it, because she had experienced it herself; on many a sleepless night she had often been crippled with unbearable stomach pains, as if someone was stabbing her in the stomach. It had been the Mouth, taunting her, punishing her for any disobeyed commands. He put dark enchantments on her sleep so that she would get no rest, and would arise in the morning with dark circles under her eyes, staggering with lack of rest.
No one knew. No one had ever known. Arawen may have been a traitor in some senses of the word. But only under duress. One who knows torture can only disobey the wishes of their captor for so long. She had been eighteen when she had been brought to Mordor; eighteen years old. No one, mortal or immortal, could have endured.
Slowly, Arawen reached into the pocket of her cloak and brought out a tiny bottle of liquid. It did not look like much, but it in fact contained a rare recipe to calm the effects of spells. She had found it in one of the Mouth’s books, and had found most of the ingredients for it by pure luck. She had only discovered it a year or so ago, but it worked remarkably quickly.
Luthien needed it more than she did. She held it out towards the girl, stepping forwards slightly. “Here. Drink this. Or just smell it. You will not feel so nauseous, I assure you.”
Disbelievingly, Luthien stared at her. She searched the dark-haired girl’s face for any trace of a lie, scrutinizing her. Very slowly, she held out of her hand, and Arawen pressed the bottle into her palm, and stepped back again. “Let me guess. Some kind of poison?” Luthien instantly felt ashamed of her cynical tone, though she had no idea why – Arawen was an enemy.
Arawen shook her head as Luthien undid the lid and held the potion to her nose. Instantly, she felt a wave of calm wash over her like sea foam, and the dizziness in her limbs lessened slightly.
“I don’t care if the both of you despise me,” Arawen said simply, watching as Luthien slipped her hand from Beör’s arm. “It doesn’t matter. Whatever you think about me, you need to listen to what I have to say.”
~~~
The Mouth gave a small start as he heard several loud knocks on the door of his chambers; they were growing louder and louder, shaking him from his silent conference. The flames in his head slowly dispersed and he scraped back his chair, staggering to his feet, feeling unbalanced after being interrupted. The Eye would not be best pleased. He had no sense of his master trying to call him back; perhaps he knew what it was that required the Mouth’s presence. Wrenching the door open, the Mouth sensed rather than saw the group of orcs standing outside in the corridor.
“Master! Master, there’s been a disturbance dahn in the cells – ya better go an’ see fer yerself what’s happenin’.” The orc sounded out of breath, as if from running. “Two elves. Two blasted darn trouble-makers, that’s what it is, master, yer’ve got tah go an’ see…”
The Mouth shoved the orc out of the way and set off at surprising speed for one without sight.
“Whoever is responsible for this I want their heads!” he yelled over his shoulder, hoarsely. “I want them dead!”
~~~
Hearing the commotion from down the corridor, Arawen turned her head. The Mouth’s hoarse yell was recognisable anywhere. Swiftly drawing her hood over her head, she stepped forward urgently. “You have to come with me,” she said. “My chambers. You’ll be safe there.”
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~~Siggy by Lembas~~
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Post subject: Posted: May 2nd, 2010, 5:57 pm |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
Posts: 5673
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As Arawen spoke, Beörs anger was inflamed even more. He barely felt how Luthien was holding on to him. He seemed completely unaware of her presence nor did her goodness affect him now, as if the world around him had melted away.
The brunette's cold words echoed in his ears and when she took a step forward, the Ranger's anger finally took over. One hand locked around her pale and slender throat, while he shoved her against the wall with force. "You showed me the hell.." he hissed with a hoarse voice, his breathing irregular. A strange light shone in his eyes, which made him look insane or like an animal which had been caged for too long. He didn't mind about the consequenses. He didn't mind that he would condemn himself to death, nor that he would degrade himself to her level. He just wanted hurt her, as much he'd been hurt, the same pain that she'd inflicted on him.
But years of imprisonment had weakened Beör as much, and Arawen's skill in combat had been perfected over years, that he seemed an easy prey for her. Before Beör realised what had happened, he lay on the stone tiles, their positions had exchanged.
"You better kill me now.." he spoke. "For as long as I live, you'll have to watch over your shoulder. I will follow your evil being to the end of the world."
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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.
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Post subject: Posted: May 2nd, 2010, 6:29 pm |
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Joined: 18 October 2007
Posts: 4502
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(Wow, Will, for a bit I wasn’t sure if Arawen having hurt Beör in the past was a good idea, but it’s a very interesting backstory! So I decided to go further with it and make it so that Arawen was under a spell when she hurt him. Hope that’s okay – I really want there to be a chance for Beör to be reconciled to her offer of help  )
Arawen choked as Beör gripped her by the throat and slammed her against the wall, feeling the icy chill of that small gap between life and death upon her. She closed her eyes, willing herself to die, for him to complete what he had started. She heard his words as if from a great distance, and as she felt life drain away from her, slowly, she was hit by a sudden, acute memory, so vivid that she felt as if she was living it now.
Nineteen years old, and standing in a cell… shaking… tears running down my cheeks. He was there, he was sitting there, the ranger. Sitting there. In the dark, damp, cold cell. And I watch my hands disobey me, under a spell…
She remembered walking in, shaking, terrified at what she was about to do. Before going down to the cells the Mouth had put an enchantment on her that would ensure she inflicted pain to the first person she saw. That person happened to be Beör; so clearly, she remembered the Mouth shoving her into the cell with a horrible grin on his features.
Beör still remembered. He had not forgotten. He blamed her. He blamed her, he blamed her, he blamed her. Seized by a sudden fury, Arawen broke free and pinned the ranger’s arms behind his back, shoving him to the cold stone tiles. Holding him down, tears streamed down Arawen’s face, although her expression was one of anger.
“It is all so simple for you!” she whispered, her words quiet. “It is all so clear and fresh and clean-cut. You have only seen life here from behind bars. You will not accept that the ones who are sent out feel pain. You will not concede that they have been tortured, they have been beaten until they know not what they are. They have been hurt horrendously, and you have never seen, you will never see. If you could think beyond your own pain you might see, but you’re blind. I don’t care if you want me dead. I don’t care. Because, ranger of the north, I’m already dead inside. You can kill me if you wish. Do what the Mouth threatened all those years ago.”
She let him go and stood over him. She bent down and pulled him up to his feet. “I was nineteen. Nineteen. You were not the only victim that day. The Mouth bound a spell about me so that I had no control over my own actions; I was a witness. Nothing more. You can believe I lie or you can accept it.” She stepped back, brushing away her tears.
“Believe it or not, I came to help you.” She placed a hand at her throat, remembering the choking sensation the ranger had inflicted. Slowly, Luthien stepped forward and gently pulled Beör away from Arawen.
“Do not do that again,” Luthien said softly, but firmly. “You risk your own life, all the steps you have taken will become nothing. I think better of you than that.” Pausing, she glanced at Arawen, who was composed once more, curious despite herself of the spell she had spoken of; imagine what it would be like to have no control over your own movements, to be a stranger in your own actions.
“Did he really do that to you?” she said, quietly.
“Yes. Often.” Arawen shrugged. “Everyone here in Mordor has washed their hands in blood, metaphorically speaking. Best to get used to it… unless it hurts you more…” shaking her head as if to shake off her own words, she tried again. “I will say it again. I want to help you. You must listen to me.”
~~~
The Mouth, surrounded by a small band of orcs, who had desperately tried to keep up with him, burst into the cell block. He did not so much as hesitate for a moment, but walked straight up to the source of the trouble; disobedience radiated around the elf like an aura. “The new elf,” he said, his gravelly voice sinister. “Brought in new. With a sense of freedom, it seems.” The iron door of the cell block slammed shut behind him, allowing no escape. “With a skill for lock-picking.” He sensed the orc corpses at his feet with distaste and stepped over them. “You’ll regret your interference.”
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~~Siggy by Lembas~~
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Post subject: Posted: May 2nd, 2010, 6:52 pm |
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Joined: 01 November 2005
Posts: 322
Location: That way. *points left and right*
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Calanon looked at the mouth and spun the blade easily, "I highly doubt that." Morwen took a step back, her face a little pale.
Calanon glanced at her out of the corner of her eyes and gave a mental sigh.
'Doesn't want to stay, yet scared to watch others get hurt... she hasn't changed too much.' he noted mentally.
"Calanon" Morwen whispered "He'll use magic.. you don't sta-"
"I'm not going to just lay down for this worm." he said bluntly and Morwen took a step back again; she feared the Mouth would make good his threat to kill others if she stepped out of line again.
[/i]
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Post subject: Posted: May 3rd, 2010, 6:43 pm |
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Joined: 03 June 2006
Posts: 5673
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Beör listened to Arawen's words, and flashes of the past sprang vividly to his mind as well. He had not forgotten.. By that time he'd been captive for many years. Although the Ranger had not resisted against his imprisonment any longer, he'd become embitterned; hardened by the cruelty of life. Yet never had he expected that the young lass, whom so quickly had given up after she was brought in, was able to execute so much evil. Never could he forget..
Had he then suspected that she'd been possessed? Probably not.
Her tears fell on his chest, her face pale as usual, but she still held him down.
"Yes, it is simple.." the blond man softly hissed, his voice still filled with anger. "A choice was presented to you when you came here. A choice between good and evil.. You choose the path of evil and with that you dam-ned your soul.."
As Arawen let go of him, Beör scrambled to his feet, his feelings were still unchanged. All this time it had been so easy to hate. His hate had perhaps been the only thing that kept him going. The fact that Arawen actually had a past and had suffered, meant nothing to him. She had betrayed them, killed the innocent and worked for the forces of Mordor. Nothing could make that undone..
As Luthien lay a hand on his arm, Beör actually felt how he was trembling. His face was even paler than Arwen's but the gleam in his blue eyes had disappeared. The confrontation with Arawen seemed to have exhausted him, or perhaps just the prospect of their limited freedom had.
He looked at Luthien, almost as if apologising, and said. "Shall we go? Please?"
_________________
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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