Languages:
westron - middle earth
english - earth
I know you're trying to help, but you're being a douchebag [rory]
Don't cry I reminded myself. He wants to see you in pain. Don't give him the satisfaction.
I would have grunted out loud as something heavy fell on top of me in my mouth hadn't been shut tightly. The smell of the disgusting creatures filled my nostrils, making me gag. Don't cry, don't make any noise what so ever.
The heavy object was removed from on top of me and the stench lessened significantly, but I kept my face still, determined not to slip up and give these things the satisfaction they got from hearing me scream. I listened warily for any kind of sound other than that of grumbling and things being dragged across the ground far away from me.
Somewhere close above me I heard a sigh and peeled back my eyes slowly blinking at the sight of a two men one elderly and the other young stood over me, eyes analysing me, sprawled gracelessly on the ground in front of them. I didn't dare move, where they here to hurt me too? Or just watch me bleed to death from multiple stab wounds. What gentlemen.
The elderly man stood up straight quickly letting a garbled mash of noises and words I didn't recognize flow naturally from his lips.
"She's been stabbed in the arm Ḗomer, I can't see any other injury can you?"
They felt wrong on my ears, he sounded English, he looked English, I wondered for a second if the man was making fun of me. He continued to gaze down at me pity filled his eyes.
It would have upset me before, being pitied that is. I was use to people feeling sorry for me for some reason or another, whether it was my father's flighty ex-wife, becoming an orphan or just being one of the poorest families in the area.
After washing up alone a river, misplacing the three most important people in my life, being chased, stabbed in the arm and shot in the thigh with an arrow being pitied was the least of my worries.
He wore a simple metal helmet, with a rusty strip covering his nose, it reminded me of a roman helmet a little. He was tall, but looked a little beaten down and thin. Through the gaps in his helmet I could see that his face looked kind enough, his grey hair fell just above his shoulders, his eyes crinkled sadly looking down at me.
My face remained expressionless as I turned to take in the younger man's strange appearance. His face was harder to see under his flamboyant helmet with some sort of hair sprouting from the top, but it held about as much emotion as I was trying to display.
He had a much bigger build than his older companion, even through the heavy armour he wore he looked muscly and was even taller than the man he stood next to. They were both inspecting my injury's I think, their eyes lingered on my blood stained arm.
He shook his head slowly from side to side like a crazy person before glancing down at me one last time, his cheeks turning crimson with embarrassment over something.
Yea, I'd blush too, if I'd been caught dressed as a soldier sword-fighting in the woods with the elderly.
I let out a breath that I didn't know I'd been holding and decided despite them both being fairly heavily armed still, that any immediate danger had passed.
The other man seemed to be examining something on the ground to the left of me, out of my line of sight. I pursed my lips. If their dress sense hadn't given it away then their behaviour would have; these were very strange men.
The younger man seemed to notice my gaze suddenly and held out his arm before barking words clearly at me in some freaky language.
"Come, I will take you to our Prince". He looked at me expectantly.
I stared back at him mystified. Yea, I'm definitely not in Wales any more. I would have tried to run for it normally but I was afraid to even jostle my leg. I could still feel half an arrow pierced deeply into my thigh the other half has snapped off when I'd last tried to stand and escape.
"Come" The man repeated a word firmly at me, scowling after he received no response. I just stared back at him, not sure whether to reply in English or pretend I'd never heard him.
I did nothing. When in doubt do nothing.
"Perhaps she is simple Ḗomer, it would explain many things. Pick her up and carry her will you m'lad. I'm getting too old for all this." The elder man directed more strange words at his companion before turning and walking away from us both. I really wish he had stayed, I felt awkward sat staring at the younger man, noticing for the first time the blood still wet running from his nose.
I winced internally as things clicked together in my head.
The Creeper. The man that I'd smacked twice around the face with a torch, standing over me and I was at his mercy. Oh dear. Maybe he didn't know it was me I thought hopefully.
He offered his hand to me one last time before his face dropped into an open glare, clearly directed at me.
Oh he knows it was me.
My eyes widened as he leaned down reaching to wrap his hand around my waist, I snatched my torch quickly shoving it back into my jacket pocket with my purse, matches and playing cards, gritting my teeth in pain as he slung me roughly over his shoulder my leg knocking against his armoured side sending pain shooting through me again with every step he took.
I'm glad I managed not to cry into that man's shoulder blades, instead growling and lashing out wildly, trying desperately to break his hold on me and let me go. I noticed there were lots and lots of men following behind this brute all dressed similarly in their metal armour. I was in too much pain to count exactly how many but there were more than a couple dozen.
Aw man, I've been abducted by a cult dressed like soldiers that explains their secret code language. Maybe they wanted to worship me or something...maybe not. I hope they weren't planning on sacrificing me before some fancy banquet meal or anything. Ah food I thought distractedly, mouth-watering, my stomach grumbled agreeing with me.
I'm not entirely sure how far I was carried, before we began to leave the trees behind us. I couldn't see very much due to the awkward position I was being held in, but I felt the man slow to a gradual stop letting others overtake him slightly.
I listened mildly interested as they band of merry men conversed in their funny language.
"Put her down Ḗomer, let us rest some before we ride back to the others." A commanding voice came from somewhere behind me. I only picked out one familiar word.
"Eom..er" I mimicked the word sounded strange coming from my lips, though it did sound oddly familiar for some reason. The elderly man had said that word too. And the creeper that was holding me stiffened as I said it. It must be a pretty important word.
"Eom...er" I repeated one last time before the man decided suddenly that he couldn't be bothered carrying me any longer and simply dropped me on the ground, taking a step back away from me.
I hadn't been prepared and a loud cry escaped my lips as the arrow pushed deeper into my leg as I made impact with the ground. Most of the people looked at me, but I couldn't have cared less, I pulled my good leg up with my good arm and buried my head into my knee.
I tried blocking out the people talking, concentrating on my breathing instead, not wanting to show more weakness in front of these strange people. I didn't feel guilty about hurting the man after being thrown carelessly on the ground. My free hand made its way to the torch in my pocket, regretting not hitting him harder.
"Grimbold take the others back to where we met, let them know all is well. Ḗomer and I will stay behind and tend to the girl's arm, we'll be along soon".
Ḗomer that word again, where did I know that word from? I lifted my head slowly to watch the group of people mount their horses one by one, most pausing to glance back at me before riding off in a group leaving only two men behind. One of them was creeper, typical.
They both walked off towards the horses and for half a second I thought they were going to mount and leave me on my own again making my heart drop. Instead one fetched a small leather pouch from a light brown horse which was allowed to roam free along with another similar looking horse before both returned kneeling down next to me.
I glared daggers at the ground sulking at how much I depended on these crazy people. If they had left me I'd have been screwed.
The stranger removed his helmet, and creeper followed suit removing his. They looked similar to each other, the stranger looked slightly younger than creeper and had a slightly smaller build. Their features were similar though, they were both very handsome, especially for psychotic kidnappers.
There were only small differences between them, creeper had an air of arrogance about him, the way he held himself pompously while the younger man relaxed his posture after the other men had ridden off. Creeper also had a blood covered face thanks to me, a stubbly beard and moustache and slightly longer hair than the other man's whose fell just past his shoulder. What was it with guys and long hair here? Sheesh.
The younger man caught me looking at him and smiled warmly at me before turning to address Creeper in their language softly
"She looks frightened Ḗomer", he turned slowly back to me before emptying his bag in front of me, and I let my leg slide back to the ground curious in spite of myself. I watched as he pulled out some sort of material water bottle and took a deep swig, he offered some to creeper who shook his head searching through the other pile of supplies that lay in front of him.
He held the water bottle towards me offering, I hadn't drank since we'd left the tent yesterday, unless you counted the brave handful of water I'd swallowed from the stream against my better judgement. Despite being desperately thirsty I turned my head away from the man pointedly, declining.
He didn't seem put off at all continuing to stare at me curiously, creeper continued rummaging through his bag full of things ignoring me completely. What a tool.
"Do you understand me? What is your name?" I could tell he spoke slowly and clearly, like he was speaking to a child. It irritated me that they continued to speak in this strange tongue. I pouted at the men in frustration at not being able to understand. I was torn between wanting to try speaking English, or welsh to see if they'd recognize it and continuing to act silently indifferent towards them. He pointed to himself. "My name is Théodred."
This word I recognized letting my eyes widen.
Théodred. Ḗomer. I could feel my mouth drop open slightly in amazement.
Théodred and Ḗomer.
The younger boy, Théodred turned his head a puzzled look on his face at my reaction. I would have noticed how adorable this expression made him look if I hadn't been frozen in shock.
This was a joke. It had to be. It was too real to be a dream. I'd stumbled across some sort of Lord of The Rings re-enactment, and they'd played along with my sudden appearance, improvising.
That meant them creatures were orcs. They couldn't have been actors and I doubted highly they were robots, my nose crinkled as I remembered the smell.
They had bled as well, they had definitely died for real. That meant that I was sat in front of two murderers. I know that I'd be dead if they hadn't of intervened when they had, but that didn't change the fact that they'd just killed, alot.
I tried to drag myself backwards away from them forgetting my leg, shrieking as it dragged in front of me. I reached slowly pulling my blood-stained dress up slightly to get my first real look at it.
I'd only ever seen serious injuries on television before, it did not prepare me for the sight. The wood from the arrow was still visible somewhere between the blood and pus that dominated my thigh. It was really gross.
I could see all my flesh and I'm surprised I didn't faint at the sight. A slight argument broke out in front of me as I stared down in horror. 'Théodred' had lost his smile finally as turned to look at 'Ḗomer'
"Ḗomer! Grimbold said you both checked the girl for injuries before we entered the woods?"
"Grimbold spoke the truth."
"Look Ḗomer! She has been shot in the leg, look! She has been shot in the leg all this time, I see some of the orc-arrow still. It does not look like a clean wound. It looks infected, I think we should get it out. It will not do well for her to ride a horse at least until the arrow head has been removed."
"I... I did see the blood...staining her tunic, I should have checked. I did not think it was an injury. I should have checked. Had I seen it, I would have handled her more gently on the journey here. You are right we must remove the arrow and clean the wound before we travel further."
I watched his remorse filled face turn back towards me, before I lost it.
I was sick of this strange game they were playing. I was sick of being sat in front of them completely oblivious to what they were saying. I was seriously hurt, and so tired and all I wanted was to go back home and find Tommy, Toby and Minnie waiting there for me, with some rational explanations. These men were being cruel and idiotic.
"SPEAK ENGLISH!" I screamed in their faces, it was my turn to glare at creeper, I refused to think of him as Ḗomer. They were far too old to be playing lord of the rings. The younger one looked a few years older than me, twenty at least.
They both stared at me, shocked before quickly glancing at each other.
"We need to remove the arrow, from your leg and clean your wound my Lady. It will hurt, but it must be done before we go any further." The younger boy spoke and seemed to rather reluctantly gesture towards my leg. He uncomfortably reached his hand closer to my leg and mimed pulling the arrow out and wiping it clean.
I huffed, merely nodding. I was pleased they had finally decided to acknowledge that fat that I was in pain, but I couldn't make myself be grateful. I knew this was totally going to hurt more than anything else I'd ever experience. I made no sound as they turned back to address each other.
"Ḗomer, I do not think I can do this. It would be different were it a man or even a young child. But this girl is on the verge of woman-hood. She is little younger than me. I do not think I can touch her, but nor do I wish to order you to so. For you have already expressed your discomfort earlier...I."
"I am glad you have sent the men away Théodred, though I wish Grimbold were here to offer advice. I think she understands though that this must be done and that it is merely a gesture of kindness. I do not think that she speaks our language, nor do I think she is as Grimbold suggested simple. I will do this one thing as quickly as I can cousin, if you truly cannot, though I must insist you stay present, after it has been done we will never speak of it again. Agreed?"
"Agreed" His face relaxed some.
I watched on as the older of the two shuffled closer to me, bringing the contents of his small leather bag; he carried a wooden bowl of thick green slush with bits of crushed leaves. The younger one, avoiding my gaze passed his companion a handful of bandages before busying himself piling leftover items back into the bag which lay next to him.
It seemed to be some sort of first aid kit from the middle ages.
The older one made eye contact with me briefly before gesturing towards the arrow. I think asking my permission. The sooner he pulls it out the better I reminded nervously. I nodded curtly at him. He looked much kinder now that his ever present scowl had disappeared from his face. He shouldn't have looked so worried, it made me anxious.
Even though he was a murderer and a creeper and clearly took his lord of the rings fantasies too far, I was starting to regret bashing his face in with my torch, I suspect he'd look better without blood covering his face.
I was glad I didn't have to look at him as leaned in.
I blushed furiously as he placed one hand on my leg holding me still. I didn't like having him this close to me, my face scrunched up in embarrassment I looked up at the other man who smiled reassuringly at me, I winced as I felt creepers hand wrap around the top of the wooden arrow.
He hesitated for a moment, before pulling the arrow out so quickly that I'd blacked out at the pain before I had time to even groan.
:)
