dreamdancer |
|
Nimeneth |
|
Iell-daughter-of-elves |
|
elflyn |
|
dreamdancer |
|
Nimeneth |
|
Iell-daughter-of-elves |
|
Sirithros_Lirenel |
|
elflyn |
|
Iell-daughter-of-elves |
|
Nimeneth |
|
Iell-daughter-of-elves |
|
Nimeneth |
|
Iell-daughter-of-elves |
|
Nimeneth |
|
Iell-daughter-of-elves |
|
dreamdancer |
|
Sirithros_Lirenel |
|
Salkiethia |
|
Iell-daughter-of-elves |
RE: Ever After (Keeper!) on: June 13, 2006 06:11
|
|
She was cold. It wasn't an ordinary cold, that cold that is easily warmed by a cheery crackling fire and a fur wrapped around the shoulders. This cold seemed to come from the very depths of her soul, its icy grip holding fast to her.
Nethraueth heard a soft moan behind her, and she turned around to find a wall of thick fog looming up behind her, beginning to surround her. As she watched, it seemed to her eyes that the smothering murkiness was actually advancing in on her, as if it were...an army.
The moan sounded again, and this time, it was drawn out and clear enough that she could hear that it wasn't a moan at all, but her name. She called out in a shaky voice, "Who calls for me?" The only response was another moaning utterance of her name, so she pulled out her sword and advanced forward.
Neth was looking from side to side and stepping carefully when a figure loomed out of the fog. She was startled and nearly dropped her sword as she skidded to a halt when she realized who it was.
It was Criston, the younger of her two brothers. He stood before her, covered in blood, staring at her, not moving, not speaking.
"Cris-Criston? You are dead...aren't you? How can you stand before me if you are dead?"
"Oh, yes, Nethraueth, I am most definitely dead. I'm dead thanks to the betrayal of my sister, who thrust her dagger into the base of my skull, because she was far too cowardly to challenge me to my face. Far too cowardly and desperate for attention, attention that was being divided amongst all of us that were fighting in the battalion. You couldn't handle that could you, Nethraueth. You had to be the one with the glory. So you became a Kinslayer." His voice had become a low, hate-filled hiss.
Nethraueth opened her mouth to say something, and a hand landed on her arm and turned her around. Now she was face to face with her other brother, Beredhraw, his face creased with a gash inflicted by her sword, the very one she held in her hand now. It was split from right temple to left jaw, and Nethraueth felt nauseous being that close to him.
He smiled a gruesome, twisted smile and said, "But you know what is so fortunate for us, Nethraueth? We are dead, but you have to live with the nightmares for the rest of your life."
More figures began coming out of the fog, all muttering and surrounding her, reaching for her, and no matter how hard Neth tried to fight them off, they kept coming at her. She heard her brothers laughing, and Beredhraw called out, "You cannot kill what is already dead, Nethraueth."
She began swinging, trying to fight her way clear. She finally managed to clear a path, and began running, but she could hear the laughter surrounding her on all sides.
The fog swirled around her and then vanished, and she found herself standing on the edge of the village she had been sent to protect. The ground was muddy and dark with blood, her armor coated with it. The bodies of the slain were scattered everywhere, and Nethraueth grew angry. "You deserved it! I had fought longer than any of you, and I deserved the glory and praise for commanding you! You were nothing without me!" Her voice echoed outward, and was met with utter silence, and an overwhelming feeling of loneliness.
Then she heard the voice of Criston, right next to her ear, although when she whirled around, he was not there.
"You will always feel the loneliness, deep inside you, Nethraueth. Even with that Man, Morgai, by your side, should he choose to remain a part of your life after finding out what you have done, the loneliness will eat away at you until there is nothing left. Why have you not told him? Because you are too afraid, too cowardly, fearful he will be repulsed by you."
Criston suddenly lunged at her out of nowhere, catching her throat and beginning to choke her. Neth struggled, beating at his arms, and trying to twist away from his grip.
"I loved you Nethraueth, and I was proud of you. Now I want only to watch you die."
Neth could see all of the others gathering around the two of them, watching her dead baby brother, the first of her Kin she had slain, slowly choke the life out of her.
The voices in her head began screaming for her to wake up...
*********************
Aerien moved swiftly through the trees, communicating with the others in the patrol with silent hand gestures. There were rumours that had recently come to light that those of the Eldar that remained in Middle Earth were in grave danger, and so the patrols had been started.
Four groups at a time, one for each direction, would fan out and move through the forest to the very border of Mirkwood, and into the Rhovanion plains, watching for any signs of anyone approaching. So far, they had not had any sightings, but it was always better to be safe than sorry.
Aerien was the last of her family, along with her twin brother, who remained in Middle Earth. Her parents had sailed long before, and her and her brother had remained, together, not willing to give up their love of home, both of them feeling the need to protect it at all costs.
She glanced to the left, and just barely caught a glimpse of her twin, Noridthen, as he passed behind a tree. Their movements were in complete synchronization with each other, as always, and the two of them always led patrols together, working as a single unit split into two bodies. Aerien was proud of her brother, as he was of her, and neither one of them would accept praise directed at themselves if there was no recognition for the other.
The patrol finally began its long sweep back into the forest, having reached the border, and spent the next several hours retracing their steps. As they passed the next group to head out, Aerien looked at Noridthen and grinned. The twins suddenly sprinted off in the direction of the dining hall, racing each other to get to the food first.
Aerien won this time, and as she laughed and caught her breath, Noridthen picked her up and swung her around. Depositing her in a chair at one of the tables, and bowing low before her, he said, "I shall fetch your meal for you, my dear sister, that your winged feet might rest." He grinned at her and she laughed again.
"My winged feet?" She rolled her eyes as Noridthen swept off and joined the line. When he returned several moments later, and presented her with her plate, she dug into it heartily, and then paused after several mouthfuls. "Noridthen, do you suppose any of the rumours are true? Do you believe that Lord Elrond of Imladris is dead and that his son Elladan is blind?"
Noridthen considered her words for a moment, and then said quietly, "I think if it were untrue, that there would be proof by now that Lord Elrond still lives, Aerien."
She nodded slowly and whispered, "Valar, protect us."
[Edited on 13/6/2006 by Iell-daughter-of-elves]
|
|
elflyn |
|
anduril269 |
|
Nimeneth |
RE: Ever After (Keeper!) on: June 13, 2006 12:24
|
|
As Neth drifted off to sleep, Morgai smiled again and rolled onto his other side to give her at least a little more privacy, not that there was much to begin with. Quietly, he drifted off to sleep and into dreamland...
Morgai wandered the open plains of Rohan, looking for something - or someone, he couldn't tell. Below him the grass stretched out in a green carpet that looked the same in all directions. Above him, the sky was eerily grey, like it had been above the mountains bordering Mordor those six years before.
Suddenly, in the distance, he saw someone climbing a hill. He started to run, not knowing why, opening his mouth to cry out to the figure. No sound came from his lips, though, so he kept running. The figure disappeared over the hilltop as he gained the bottom. Struggling up the rise, Morgai gained the top and stared down…
… down at Imladris, which he had never seen before. The sky above him was even darker than it had been before, and he could see why. A fire had been set to one of the buildings, and it blazed merrily while figures rushed to put it out. The smoke fueled the sky’s clouds. At that moment, someone turned and spotted him. Arato – little Arato, who had grown so big – appeared next to him, except he grew larger every second. Morgai turned to run.
Behind him there was forest – he knew where he was! In northern Ithilien, there was forest similar to this, and he recognized it. Something struck his lower back then, and as he turned around to see who it was, he was met with the demonic looking Arato behind him. He ran again, and again something hit him in the back. A rock hit the ground beside him as he ran, and again something hit his back, but this time it was in his shoulderblade and it hurt! The object fell again, hitting him in one of the more tenderly scarred areas of his back…
With a curse, Morgai shot up from his furs and reached up to feel his back, checking for blood.
“That’s the last time I ever drink before bed,” Morgai muttered to himself. It was then he heard it – moaning, beside him! Almost frantically, he grabbed a knife from underneath his pillow and turned to see if Neth was hurt, and Valar knew if she was there’d be hell to pay!
Instead, he found a thrashing elleth behind him. Her hands flailed around wildly. So that was what had woken him – her punching him in the back. However, the elleth wasn’t waking up, and Morgai was getting worried. Throwing the furs off of him, he reached out and tried to grab her shoulder to wake him, only he wound up barely dodging a fist. Several other attempts were met with the same result, so he finally settled for climbing on top of her and pinning her to the furs and blankets beneath her.
“Neth!” Morgai hissed. “Neth, wake up!
----------
Arato breathed a sigh of relief as they entered the courtyard of Imladris. It appeared that Diablo had gotten Rolan and Narmion home safely, as there was a bustle in the courtyard and he could see the black’s tail disappearing into the stables. He patted Carloth on the neck and dismounted, standing next to her and surveying the activity going on around him. Lalaith came to stand staring at him.
“Captain Glyndr is safe, Lalaith,” he said as she said nothing, probably due to worry for her husband. “The dwarf was sent into the camp as a diversion, and the Captain went looking for her after we had rescued Narmion and Rolan. He should be coming in shortly.”
As if hearing his words, the Captain’s grey warhorse carried him into the courtyard. With a bow to Lalaith, Arato left Carloth in the care of one of the stable hands, seeing as Aiden was pressing Eadoin for details of the rescue, and headed for the Halls of Healing. He hoped to find information regarding the states of Narmion and Rolan, and most importantly, he wanted the boy to have someone he knew nearby when – and if – he awoke. Besides, he figured the healers might be in need of help.
---
“I… I saw them when they came in,” Aiden muttered, helping Eadoin down from his horse and following his brother as he led his horse into the stables. “They don’t look good.”
“I never got a chance to see them,” Eadoin said as he unsaddled his horse and began rubbing her down. Worriedly, he looked at Aiden. “How bad?”
“It’s a wonder they’re still alive,” Aiden said. He brushed a hand through his short hair and sighed, straightening out Eadoin’s tack – the younger man always made a mess of it. “Rolan especially.” Eadoin whirled, startled at the words.
“What happened to Rolan?” he demanded. Aiden opened his mouth, decided against speaking, and shut it with a click. Wordlessly, he turned from the stall and moved to set the saddle and bridle down in the back. “Aiden!” Eadoin whined again, following him.
“You’ll have to wait,” Aiden said firmly.
“But!”
“They need time to recover!” Aiden snapped at Eadoin, whirling around to face him. His eyes were hard and angry. “Right now, they don’t need someone hovering over them gawking at them like they’re some sort of freaks!”
“But I just want to make sure Rolan’s alright…” Eadoin muttered, looking to the ground between his feet. “You don’t have to yell at me…”
“I do, Eadoin,” Aiden said harshly, walking past his brother and into Diablo’s stall, shooing the other stable boys from inside. “Otherwise you won’t listen to me.”
“I’d listen!” Eadoin said, coming to the door. Aiden calmly pushed him away and shoved him down the isles to the door. Outside, away from the prying eyes and ears of the stable lads, they could talk.
“Frankly, Eadoin, you wouldn’t,” Aiden said softly. “Ever since that battle, you’ve been treating me as if I’m the younger of us two, and that’s insulting. There are some things that you don’t know a whit about. Stop trying to control everything, especially me. No matter how much you think you’ve grown up during this experience, you’re still a boy, Eadoin!” Aiden’s voice had risen several notches, and now there were several people staring at them. Aiden continued, “A stupid, naïve little boy! Stop acting like you’re better than everyone else, before someone decides they’ve had enough of you and teaches you your place. And if it falls to me, don’t expect me to go easy on you because I’m your brother. It’s time for you to grow up!” Turning, Aiden stalked back into the stables and disappeared from sight.
Eadoin stood staring at the doors, feeling as if he had just been slapped in the face. Feeling the eyes of those who had watched the exchange on him, he turned and fled into the gardens. He wanted Ari. And he wanted her now. Stumbling on the uneven walkways, which hadn’t been maintained since before the battle, he reached where she sat with another elf and stopped.
“Ari,” he choked out, stumbling for her. Tears started rolling down his cheeks as he only made it a few steps before sinking to his knees and burying his face in his hands.
((That wasn’t planned, I swear... After that, Aiden is going to want to get out of Imladris to steam, so consider him volunteered for the Hanni rescue!))
|
|
Salkiethia |
|
Iell-daughter-of-elves |
|
Nimeneth |
|
Salkiethia |
|
Iell-daughter-of-elves |
|
dreamdancer |
|
elflyn |
|
Sirithros_Lirenel |
|
otterling |
RE: Ever After (Keeper!) on: June 19, 2006 04:29
|
|
((OOC: I'm soooooooo sorry this took so long to get up. I hope you like it))
The squirrel chittered its disapproval once more at having its secret stash of nuts trampled by the unpleasant smelling intruder. Not one to be easily ignored, and with the bravado and self-righteous indignance that only small animals can truly posses, the squirrel reached for the nearest acorn it could find and hurled the tiny projectile at its foe. *plink* Hanni glared up at the creature from her hiding spot within the brush and growled, “Do that one more time, ye wee little monstrosity, and I’ll have ye for breakfast.” The threat was answered by a whole stream of angry noises from the impudent rodent and Hanni huffed, turning her back to it once more in favor of scanning the undergrowth for more dangerous enemies.
Her flight from the camp hadn’t been too difficult, despite a few close calls where her disguise had failed to trick a couple of more intelligent orcs. It was almost a pity that she had to remove them from the breeding pool, seeing as intelligence was so hard to find among their race, but she figured their mangled bodies would be found eventually and there was little doubt no one would weep their passing. She’d managed to do some pretty hearty damage to the camp before her exit and in the turmoil, Hanni had slipped as best she could out of the rings of firelight and into the dark cover of the forest. Her only exit presented itself all the way on the backside of the camp and she cursed her bad luck, knowing then she would be in for a long night of sneaking and hiding in the woods just to get back to the starting point without getting caught.
The armor she wore did little to aid with stealth, and indeed it seemed made to do just the opposite, clanking and clanging with every step until Hanni was sure she had alerted the whole of the forest to her whereabouts. Vines reached up to ensnare her legs, making the going slow, and Hanni struggled to free herself, muttering all the while that there were “plenty enough vines out here” and “why would the blasted elves need any vines inside their homes seeing as the forsaken things were EVERYWHERE else??” She was about ten feet within the wood line when a horn blasted out into the night air. “Blast!” she cried and then, without really thinking about it, Hanni threw herself bodily onto the ground, face first into some bushes, utterly convinced that someone had spotted her escape. Even as she lay there, spitting leaves out of her mouth and making sour faces as she tried to swat away the plant which had reached right up her left nostril, Hanni was certain the enemy must be bearing down on her. The sounds of the camp echoed behind her and she closed her eyes, held her breath and waited.
Nothing.
The frantic noises of the enemy did not advance on her position. They had not seen her. Hanni laid still for another few moments, ensuring that she was not just imagining things, then, slowly, she pushed up onto her arms and peered out of the brambles which concealed her like a great bristly cocoon. The night air was still and quiet, no birds sounded, no insects chirped around her and Hanni glanced around to make sure that legions of orcs were not waiting just around a tree to take off her head. The tents on the edge of camp swarmed with activity and through the haze of smoke and the swirling mass of bodies, Hanni could see men on horseback returning. They returned without prisoners. The breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding slid out between her large lips, letting out a tiny whistle. She made to stand up, ready to head into the deeper woods and then skirt around the camp to get back to the rescue party, but the thicket she was in had better ideas and she instead found herself struggling just to get her legs under her. Many, many dwarven curses were laid upon the feet of that thicket and after much tugging, biting, and wrestling, Hanni broke free of its accursed grip. She stumbled a few moments and then gained what little balance she possessed, heading off into the deeper woods.
After about an hour of walking and trampling through the brush, Hanni had made it half way to the starting point. It was then that she noticed the ice captain, astride his large grey demon horse, drifting in an out of the shadows like a specter as he hunted along the wood line. He seemed to be looking for something, his gaze fixed on the chaos of the camp and it took a moment to realize what he was looking for…her. She waved her arms frantically but had to stop when she thought a few orcs had turned her way. The captain, sadly, did not see her and in an instant, he was gone into the night, vanishing with out a trace, leaving no hint of his passing. Hanni’s heart dropped into her feet. He’d left. They must have thought her dead or captured…that or the captain was an utter ass. She hadn’t decided which yet. Sighing with the realization that her night had just gotten a lot longer, Hanni began to trudge her way back to the spot she had last seen him, with any luck she could follow his trail back to Rivendell…not that luck was with her this night.
After another hour of plowing through the woods, Hanni came at long last to the spot where she had last seen the smithy Bellas. She wrenched the helmet off her head and tossed it into the bushes, grateful to be rid of its stench. Hanni hurried over to the spot where she had watched Bellas place her hammer and found, much to her dismay, that it was gone. Panic set in. Surely her prized weapon wasn’t in the hands of some stinking orc!! Hanni tried to decide which offence would have her throttling Bellas more: leaving the hammer in the woods for her, only to have it taken by the scum they were fighting, or him taking the hammer with him to keep it out of the enemy’s clutches...leaving her defenseless. She decided the latter one would earn him more leniency and thus she opted to only toss him around a little as opposed to stuffing his anvil in places it truly shouldn’t fit.
The next few hours were long and wearisome but not all that dangerous. The orcs had, for the most part, vacated the woods and retreated to their tents, trying to control the mess she had made earlier, and the way had become open for her as she slinked off into the darkness. The hoof prints had been surprisingly easy to pick up though she did not realize that this was only due to Diablo having to carry a lot more weight than usual, and Hanni was fairly proud of her “rangerly” skills as she tromped along the trail after them. The ride from Rivendell had taken them quite sometime and now Hanni was on foot, a much slower pace indeed for the stout little dwarf and she had only been wandering for about a half hour before a noise just up ahead stopped her dead in her tracks. The grunting squeal of an orc sounded just up to her left and before Hanni could leap off the road, the brute broke free of the undergrowth. Both of them stood staring at each other in shock and it was Hanni who reacted first, reaching for a weapon that was not there. The orc curled one hideous lip back in a victorious snarl, knowing he had a dwarf, alone and defenseless out on the trail. The wicked curve of his blade slid from its sheath with the sinister whine of metal on metal and Hanni retreated a step, bringing her hands up before her in a defensive posture. Phlegm gurgled in his throat, a mockery of laughter, as he inched closer to her, all the while waving his grimy sword menacingly. Hanni looked around desperately, searching the ground for something to use in her defense but nothing presented itself.
Time stood still for a moment and Hanni stared in disbelief as the orc rushed in on her. His blade seemed to take forever to descend and she found herself back pedaling as fast as she could to move out of harm’s way. The blade sliced down just as Hanni’s heel found a root sending her over backwards; her mind took a moment to process the swell of pain in her chest as the blade sliced through the armor, followed by a pain in her skull as her head connected firmly with a rock. The darkness of night gave way to a world of bright lights and dazzling flashes behind her eyes, leaving Hanni stunned and cross-eyed for a few moments; they were moments the orc did not waste. He had overstretched himself with his killing strike and when his target suddenly disappeared from in front of him, the orc went tumbling down after her, landing soundly on Hanni’s chest and slamming his own head into the metal plating. His recovery was faster, unfortunately, and Hanni came back to reality to find two strong hands wrapped around her throat. Her breathing became constricted, desperate gasps for air as the orc pressed his soiled fingers into her windpipe, a gleeful look of pure enjoyment on his face. Hanni’s thick fingers reached up and scraped against his armor uselessly, trying to find some hold which would allow her to remove him from her chest. Finally, she found purchase on his collar and with the last bits of her strength, she bucked her hips and heaved him up over her head. The orc tumbled to the ground behind her and Hanni coughed violently as her throat suddenly opened to the sweetness of air once more.
Hanni rolled onto her side, using the tree she had tripped over as leverage, and reached for the fallen blade that the orc had dropped. The creature came barreling towards her, the sword was barely lifted in time, the clang of two breastplates connecting echoed in the night and then all went silent. The orc twitched a bit, then slowly, he rolled off to one side, his own blade sticking out of his chest. Hanni lay still for a long while after that, fighting her body’s desire to doze off and save its remaining energy for healing the injuries she had just sustained. With some convincing, she had battled her way back to her feet, ignoring the throbbing in her head, and then weaved off into the night.
*plink*
Hanni’s train of though and all memory of the night’s events were gone in an instant as another acorn whacked her right between the shoulder blades. She turned slowly to face the squirrel once more. *whack* An acorn connected right between her eyes. Hanni’s face suddenly matched her flaming hair as all the blood rushed to it, setting her whiskers twitching and her eyebrows bristling. The night had been a horrendous one. First the brambles, then her hammer missing, then the orc, followed by an entire night of wandering through the brush until her hair (including the sideburns) was one gigantic matt of sticker burs and twigs. Hanni growled incoherently. The squirrel was the last straw. With a mighty roar, Hanni launched herself at the rodent and a battle ensured which left the bushes rocking, the ground rumbling and the tree shaking so hard that it could be seen from a half mile away. At last Hanni burst forth from the tree, panting and snarling like a wild animal, her face all red and her hair sticking up at odd angles; her foe, at last, had been vanquished.
*plink*
Hanni cussed, screamed, and almost burst into tears as she leapt back into the brush after the elusive squirrel. It was only after another fifteen or so minutes of struggle that Hanni finally re-emerged and stormed off towards Rivendell. Behind her, deep in the bushes, the squirrel chattered unhappily and re-covered the store of nuts she had so thoughtlessly crushed when the dwarf had first entered the undergrowth to rest. Hanni stumbled along the trail, hoping and calling to all the dwarven lords from times ancient that the elven city was close at hand. Her head throbbed and pulsed, her chest burned, and her body cried out for much needed rest, weak from blood loss. Someone, somewhere, granted her wish. Hanni shuffled dizzily over a hill and there before her, laid out like thin strands of pearls in the afternoon sun, was the city of the elves, its polished stone shining against the rough backdrop of water and woods. Hanni had never been happier to see elves. They could coat her room in flowers and she wouldn’t have cared, so long as they had good food, rest and perhaps some very strong ale to ease her pain. Her tired feet carried on long after the rest of the dwarf had given up, and it was by sheer force of will that she managed to stumble at last into the courtyard, to the astonishment and confusion of several stable boys.
The dwarf stood in the midst of the courtyard for a few moments, swaying uneasily, with her hair a mess of brambles and blood smearing the side of her face and the front of her armor. She stood glaring at the lads with the look of one possessed and it took a moment for the sudden appearance of the dwarf to register. One of the stable boys took off as fast as he could through the halls of Imladris, calling out as best he could, “Captain!! The dwarf is back! Captain!!”
Hanni watched him retreat but in her confused state of mind, she could only register one thought, and one thought alone.
“BELLAS!! Get me my hammer!!”
With that, the dwarf collapsed face first onto the cobblestones in a heap of armor and blood.
|
|
Nimeneth |
|
Salkiethia |
|
Iell-daughter-of-elves |
|