Hello. This is my first fanfic. I'm trying not to make it a marysue, and I really do need some advice. Constructive cristicism is welcomed, as long as it is put nicely. Flames aren't my favorite kind of review obviously, and I would rather not have them in my story. I don't think that will help much, but it's worth saying.
So read, review and hopefully enjoy
Disclaimer: Obviously I'm not J.R.R. Tolkien, and I do not own any of his creations. I am not making any money from this story. I only own Mathiel, her aquantences and family that are not canon characters. Thanks!
On with the story!
The orcs were coming closer, Maethiel knew; she could hear their boots stomping in the near distance.I have to get to Rivendell! the girl thought as she ran along, her breaths coming in short wheezes. Her feet were dragging on the ground and she scolded herself for giving in to the weariness she had accumulated in the past week. Thoughts were foggy now, as if it almost took too much energy to think. The only thing keeping her from collapsing on the ground and welcoming the sweet release of death was willpower, and a promise.
He told me to get to Rivendell! Told me . . . warn them . . . if something happened to him. And something did.
Just as the thought crossed her mind, an arrow flew past her left ear, missing her by inches.What would father do? She thought desperately. Her whole body shook with her fervent attempts to get more air.
I have to make more distance between us. Then I can hide for a moment. I must.
So, using the little strength she still possessed, she ran as fast as her feet could carry her.
It's working! She thought gleefully as she looked back too see she had put a good extra twenty five feet between herself and the foul creatures. But she thought too soon. One of the orcs had seen her. He aimed his bow and shot three arrows into the autumn air. One hit her squarely on the shoulder another in her side, the last piercing her leg. A half scream ripped through her lips, but she stopped not wanting to provoke the Orcs further.
"Ai!" a sharp intake of breath pierced the monotonous sound of the orcs marching. Pain obliterated all thoughts. She couldn't run much longer, Not after this. She stumbled of in the forest to her left. It was thick, dark and hopefully, if she had enough time, they wouldn't find her. She trudged on for about ten minutes, arrows still sticking out of her body, losing blood all the while, until she found a secluded area with a stump to sit on. Sitting down, she took a deep breath and pulled out one of the arrows, and screamed as the cold metal was ripped out of her flesh. An almost unbearable pain flashed through her entire body. Blood began to flow freely from her side. She put her hand on the wound in an attempt to stem the flow but it didn't help.
I've failed. This is the end.
Suddenly a twig snapped and interrupted her thoughts. She drew her sword.
"Little boy, I've come to end your misery"
An orc
She held her sword out in front of her looked at the orc, about five feet away.
"Come and get me. "
The orc spun around, and sneered at her. Her reflexes were too weakened to react in time and he stabbed her in the stomach. Again, the pain doubled. Maethiel looked at the blood on her hands This was the kind of beast that had killed her family, leaving her an orphan, forcing her to fail her father. She looked it straight in the eye and said, with as much contempt as she could muster ;
"Lasto lalaith nin! Hear my laughter! And lunged at the beast. He was surprised that she was still trying after all of her wounds and was stunned. Her sword went cleanly through his chest. She yanked it out of him and slid down to lean against the tree, waiting for the end to come. The taste of her own blood was metallic on her tongue.
I failed you. Please forgive me.
"What is your name?"
Maethiel turned her head and saw a rough looking man with shoulder length brown hair looking at her.
She struggled to her feet, using he tree trunk beside her for support and brandished her sword at him
"I am prepared to fight you. Don't come any closer." Only until these words escaped her mouth did she realize how ridiculous the statement sounded. She was bleeding heavily from four different wounds, she could barely stand and she was fifteen. Enough said.
A thought crossed her mind. She was close now. If he was from Imladris. . . .
No . . . He could . . .
It doesn't matter much does it? Death is near
"Nin heniach?" do you understand me?"Pedich i lam edhellen?" you speak elvish?
She nodded. He then seemed to notice the arrow sticking out of her shoulder and the blood on the ground where she had been sitting a moment before.
"Boe le nestad!" Do you need to be healed?
She nodded her head and then slumped back to the ground. Her vision was becoming blurry and her breaths shallow and quick.
He quickly walked over to her and looked at the extent of her wounds. They were all deep poisoned and definitely orc made, not a good thing at all.
She had lost a lot of blood and her stomach and side were still bleeding heavily. This girl certainly had a story to tell, but first he needed to get her to Lord Elrond. He was busy with Frodo at the moment but he hoped the elf lord could spare a little time, for this child needed his services too. He picked her up, staring at her sheet white face, her blood tinged lips creating a deathly contrast.. She was feather light, and he noted the fact that she was wearing boys clothing.
"Man ceril?" What are you doing? She murmured. "Mas bedil an?" Where are we going?
"Avo 'osto" Fear not " Imladris" Rivendell
The name Rivendell sparked something in her memory.
"I have to tell you... I have a message... from my father. Tell Lord Elrond... Orcs ...destroying villages everywhere. They're coming to Rivendell!" she whispered urgently.
He looked at her in surprise.
"Thank you." he said disturbed by the news. "Who is your father?"
"R-ranger."
"What is his name?"
"Th-Thalion" She was now struggling to stay conscious. As he reached his horse he put her in the saddle in front of him and spurred his horse off towards Rivendell. It was just fifteen minutes ride away but he feared she would not make it. He tried to make conversation to keep her mind away from the excruciating pain he knew she was experiencing.
"What is your name?"
"Maethiel."
"Maethiel," He murmured. It sounded familiar, very familiar, though he could not place it
"That is fitting. You are a valiant warrior. I heard what you said to that orc before you slew him. Who taught you how to fight?"
"My . . . father."
"He taught you well. Do not fear me, I know your father. I also take my allegiance with the Rangers. Where is he now?"
She shook her head, tears streaming down her face, half from the pain, half from the memory of her fresh anguish.
"I'm sorry."
Maethiel nodded, then whispered
"Le hannon." and the darkness consumed her.
Maethiel's name means fight maiden in elvish.
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