Beauty Tamed the Beast: Chapter One
It was almost 9 o'clock in the morning, and Tarah still hadn't gone to sleep. This wasn't too surprising: the assassin very rarely could find the gentle touch of oblivion after taking a contract. . . But as the woman now faced the looming building known as the ORC Guild's headquarters, she wished that she could have caught at least an hour or two. It was true that the Chopper was happy to see her home away from home, but today all hell was going to break loose upon her . . . and it awaited her reluctant presence inside this wretched building . . .
The ORC Guild had many properties that they used around the globe, but the main structure of Dol Guldur was a truly thought provoking sight. To any passerby that was unlucky enough to see it, it seemed to be an expensive business firm or prison with great iron fences and guards that patrolled day and night. And to some extent this assumption would have been right; the Guild was like a prison.
Without a single window on the premises it proved a dark place to be, but most of the assassins that resided there wouldn't have had it any other way. When one is trained in the dark, one takes it with oneself everywhere . . . and the ORC-lings were no exception to this rule.
Tarah approached the main gate –that was laced with electricity for the poor souls that tried to enter unwelcomed- and slowly let her hands hang down at her sides. Though the woman usually preferred to have her hands in her pockets when she walked, she kept them in clear sight as she came to a stop at the teller's entrance. For even as a well-known and accepted member of ORC, to come armed and uncooperative to the gate was a sign of disrespect. And it was a challenge that would not go unanswered. From the unseen snipers on the roof, to the laser tech and combat-trained sentinels on watch, Dol Guldur was a deathtrap. . . A deathtrap that would most eagerly take your life, if you let it.
"Speak your name," one of the guards said as the Chopper stood before them with a relaxed yet submissive posture.
"Tarah ORC-ling: the Chopper," she said firmly.
"And the password, ORC-ling?"
"Burzum." As the ancient word for 'darkness' passed through her lips, Tarah returned her hands to her pockets, for she knew that the entry-check was officially over. None other than the Guild members knew the Black Speech, and the guards were more than aware of that fact. As the air fell silent after the accursed word had stopped resounding, the guards stepped aside to let her pass. And the woman wasted no more time as she strode into the monster of a building and entrenched herself in the dark that she had known so long.
It was with soundless feet that Tarah walked the familiar corridors of black and blood red, nodding to the few brothers and sisters she passed with a solemn yet polite greeting. Countless faces and names that escaped her memory. Forgotten children who she had trained and grown with, and those strange few who came into the fold later on in life. All killers and all impressive in their skill set. Though at times, the Chopper almost wished that her talents weren't necessary . . .
Quickly the woman pushed the thought from her mind, and forced a blank slate. She didn't have time for regret or self-pity. For the storm that was coming, she would have to be completely in the game, and she couldn't be focused if her center was clouded. And it was as she thought this that Tarah turned the final corner to reach her specific destination, and was stopped in her tracks. This action wasn't due to a physical blockade, but rather by the Choppers own decision.
At the end of the great Shadow Hall, the Nazgul Chamber door was just closing after a singular figure who was exiting from within. It was a man, and one that Tarah had come to know rather well.
For the first time in several days the woman's lips turned up at the corners, and she felt a bit of the unseen weight on her chest lift as if to give her a taste of air. In truth, Tarah's smile was small and reserved, but it was genuine and meant quite a lot in the long run. The infamous Chopper immediately called out to the man.
"Thorin."
At the sound of his name, the large man turned around and a matching smile took hold of his features.
Thorin – otherwise known as The Oak or Oaken One- was a fellow assassin of ORC and one of the only people that the Chopper thought of as a friend. Though this was a bit strange, seeing as Thorin had only joined the Guild four years ago, and Tarah was not fast to trust. But seeing his record, it was hard not to be impressed. The Oaken One was naturally gifted and had quickly made his way to the top- just recently reaching the high rank of Uruk-hai and had gained the respect of the Nazgul. It was a fact that Thorin was vicious when he needed to be, but outside of his contracts the Oak was good company to keep and reliable in a pinch. (Something that Tarah had come to count on and fully cherish.)
As the two assassin's now drew closer to one another, the woman spoke again, though with slight humor clouding her tone.
"You're late."
Thorin looked at her with a firm expression. "No, Tarah. The contract just took longer than expected."
Tarah gazed at him skeptically. Thorin had received his first Uruk-hai level contract two weeks ago, and had been confident that he would be back in three days. That had been a week ago.
"It wasn't as easy as you thought it was going to be." It was an absolute statement, and Thorin frowned slightly.
"I never said it was going to be easy."
"But you implied it. You said three to four days tops to get in and out." It was like poking a tiger in a cage- taunting him- but the Chopper knew that he was too much of a softie to do anything about it. "I recall thinking differently. I won our wager; cough it up."
Thorin snorted before shaking his head. "I don't have it on me."
"And yet a bet is still a bet."
"I just got back," Thorin grumbled. "I'll pay you tomorrow when I've had time to cash-in."
Tarah chuckled quietly as her muscular friend muttered about her being a 'bloody vulture', before she grew solemn once more. The minute of light-hearted reprieve was over, and now she had to face the fire again. She couldn't put it off any longer.
He noticed this, and said, "I could use a drink later this evening, if you're up to it. And don't worry; it'll be on me."
"Thank you. I'll need it after this."
Thorin's face grew stoic and his eyes flashed with subtle worry. "Something happened while I was away."
"Yeah. Angmar is in there laying in wait for me. . . I'd better go and get it over with before he comes to find me."
With this settled, the woman moved to walk past her friend, but before she could he had placed a hand on her shoulder. Thorin's grip wasn't hard, but it was solid enough to make her look back at him. She gazed at her Guild Brother with questioning eyes before he reassuringly squeezed her shoulder blade and let go.
"Watch yourself, Tarah."
This wasn't meant as a threat, but as a concerned warning.
"You as well, my friend."
Thorin nodded in acceptance before Tarah turned and once more approached the Nazgul's door. Taking a deep breath the Chopper lifted her knuckles and wrapped on the ebony wooden surface. When she heard the familiar raspy drawl bid her to enter, the woman steeled herself, took one last glance at Thorin who was standing by supportively until she was admitted, and bravely let herself into the viper's nest.
Tarah had been in the Nazgul chambers (private offices) countless times over the years, but never before had she felt so naked and laid bare as she did now. She had entered at Angmar's invitation, and moved to stand before the chair where her leader sat at ease. For several breaths both were still, and the Chopper who wasn't a particularly jumpy person was rendered thoroughly agitated.
Finally, when the woman was about to open her mouth to speak, Angmar broke the silence.
"I hear that you were unable to finish your task, ORC-ling. Is that true?"
This was all asked in the Black Speech and was nothing more than a formality, seeing as the Nazgul Monarch knew all the details of his underling's contracts- but she answered anyway.
"Yes, sir."
"Why is that?" Tarah internally cringed at the soft rasp that was her leader's voice, but firmly held her ground. Her posture was of one who was unafraid, but still respectful.
"There were aspects that I had not anticipated, and I could not act accordingly."
A hoarse laugh filled the shadowy room as Angmar watched her behind the black and grey mask he always wore. No one in the Guild had ever seen his face, but his eyes were a legend among the ORC's. They were yellowish gold in color- some claimed he was a demon reincarnated in a human body; others thought that he was dying of a strange disease that killed the pigment in his eyes. But no matter what the truth might have been, it was vastly agreed upon that the Nazgul Angmar could kill with no more than a glance. The orbs were the only part of his face that showed; but they helped express everything that he said or did without trouble. And the golden eyes did so now, as they looked upon the ORC Chopper indulgently.
"Oh? And what was it exactly that took the infamous Chopper by surprise?"
"I cannot say, sir."
"Can't you?"
"No, sir. I cannot."
Angmar leaned forward in his chair ever so slightly, his dark dress robe sliding across his sickly white wrists and hands like a snake's skin, as his eyes blazed in challenge.
"Then am I correct in assuming that these . . . aspects . . . are no longer a problem for you?"
Tarah felt her heart rise painfully in her throat at the obvious threat behind the words. Though the woman was more than capable of taking care of herself, she was undoubtedly afraid of the deprived Leader of the Guild and had no choice but to bow her head and submit.
"Yes, sir."
He returned to his regular position in the comfy chair, and Tarah knew from the eerie light in his eyes that he was smiling beneath the mask.
"Good. Then you will go back tonight and finish the task you have been given."
Despite Tarah's best efforts, she couldn't stop her forehead from crinkling in disagreement.
"Sir-"
"Enough." The word was not shouted or said with anger-based feeling, but it was enough to stop the woman mid word. "This is my wish, ORC-ling. You will kill the target that you were given when you accepted your contract, or I will kill you. Is that understood?"
Tarah wanted nothing more than to protest or to fight back, but she knew that doing so would mean immediate death. So she inclined her head respectfully and accepted her Leader's command, though she was absolutely boiling beneath the surface.
"Perfectly . . . sir."
Angmar's golden eyes regarded her for several long moments before he turned his gaze away, a clear sign of dismissal.
"Then we are of one mind again." There was dry-humor in the Nazgul's tone as he waved a single hand in her direction. "You may go now."
Tarah the Chopper uttered an insincere 'thank you, sir' before she immediately turned on her heel and left the accursed room. But even as she closed the ebony door behind her and walked back the way she had come, the certainty of being watched didn't leave her. Nor did the sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She didn't want to kill the man with the little boy. . . But she had no choice. It was either her target's life or hers, and the Chopper always looked out for number one.
As soon as Tarah was outside Dol Guldur and safely tucked into her SUV, the woman pulled out her mobile phone and typed in a quick message.
Can we have that drink now?
It was several minutes before her phone beeped with a reply.
I'll be there as soon as possible. Wait for me at Butterbur's.
Thanks Thorin.
Be safe.
Tarah re-pocketed her phone and quickly turned her key in the ignition. Though it would take Thorin sometime to join her, she had to get there quickly. She had to take the time to figure out her next steps, and more importantly numb the small streak of conscience that was beginning to break through.
. . . .
Some fifteen minutes later, the woman cruised into a parking space in front of Butterbur's Bar and Grill and shut off her engine. For a brief period of time, the female assassin let her game face slide back into place before she unhurriedly got out of her car and walked towards the little business that offered her some solace.
Butterbur's was a quaint little bar that in all honesty Tarah never would have set foot into if it wasn't for Thorin's love of the place. It wasn't a bad spot; just something that she wouldn't have found on her own. There were many tables and booths spread out around the little café, and then the bar and rotund barman who the Chopper was now familiar with. Without preamble the woman strode straight to the bar and put down a twenty on the counter, catching the owners attention.
"Oh, hello there, Miss Underhill!" He greeted happily, using the fake name that Thorin always called her in public places. "How are you today?"
"I've been better," she said honestly as she took one of the stools that was attached to the bar, making the portly man shake his head.
"I'm sorry to hear tha'." When Tarah shrugged, the man (who was in-fact Butterbur) flashed her a smile. "So what can I get you then?"
"A glass of Red Wine please."
Butterbur began to prepare her drink, and when he was done and had placed it directly before her, he pushed back the twenty she had put on the counter for him. When she looked ready to protest, the friendly barkeep just shook his head.
"Thorin has a tab."
Tarah inwardly praised her friend's foresight before she thanked Butterbur, and lifted her glass up for her first sip. It was smooth going down, and had just the right amount of a grip to make her taste buds happy. She swallowed, and would have given Butterbur a tip, if he hadn't disappeared into his backroom. Though truthfully, drinking in peace was just what she had needed.
As the woman took another sip from her wine, she stopped thinking. The events from both the night before and earlier that morning slipped from her conscious and she was blank. There was nothing other than the spirits before her and the calm environment of Butterbur's. . . Until the bell above the door rang out breaking her concentration (or lack of). Tarah didn't bother to look at the newcomer, knowing that if it had been Thorin he would have said something the moment he stepped across the threshold. But despite her otherwise placed attention, the woman noted that the presence of the intruder was strong, even without seeing them.
She heard the soft footfalls on the hardwood floor, though wasn't surprised when the person came to stand at the counter- to her right. (It was a bar/restaurant after all)
"Salutations," the stranger greeted cordially, in a deep and flowing voice that was without a doubt male. "Would this seat be taken, by any chance?"
"No. Knock yourself out." Tarah replied without looking up from her cup, as she took another excessive gulp.
"Thank you, Ms. Wilson." At this she lifted her eyes to stare at the man who she had otherwise ignored, and felt her stomach clench in dismay. Long silky white blonde hair . . . a smooth and handsome face . . . a well-tailored three piece suit. . . It was Tarah's target.
The man looked at the surprised woman pleasantly before he smiled, "Oh, I beg your pardon. . . You prefer the title Tarah the Chopper don't you- or so I've been told. I hope you can forgive me for getting it wrong."
Tarah felt a thousand anxieties rise in her chest, but one stood out from all the others. Her target knew her name, and he had somehow been able to follow her. . . That usually only meant one thing. He wanted something . . . But the question was what?
"How did you find me?"
The man reached into his pocket and pulled out his IPhone before he pulled something up on the screen and held it up for her to see.
All the color drained from Tarah's face as her world seemingly shattered.
. . . T-Thorin . . .
A/N: Well here's the next installment! ^^ I hope you guys liked it! (The Witch King of Angmar is soooo much fun to write!) I would love to hear everyone's thoughts thus far! Are we enjoying the story? Things we like, don't like? Any guesses for what's coming? ;p
Please leave a review or PM and let me know! I love to hear from my readers. *smiles*
~Lyn
