Disclaimer: Tokien's work is his own, not mine. I am simply borrowing a
much beloved character of his to have my way with him for a little while.
Muhahaha!
A/N: A great big thank you to all of my reviewers. You guys totally rock. Seriously, your input keeps me going. A special thanks to Aradi for the compliments and words of wisdom. I promise not to rush the relationship and to make it worth your wait for their *ahem* climax. Here's a chapter to keep the bigger story moving.
Chapter 7 – News and A Break
It was a large and imposing room. The black moist walls seemingly moved as if breathing and even if an elf had looked up they would be unable to see the ceiling. Dank air filled the space and there was a thorough lack of furniture save the huge carved stone chair at the top of the dais at the back of the room. This chair was the Master's throne and was designed to be menacing. It had been carved from one massive slab of black marble that could not have fit through any doorway of this tower save by magic. Rumor had it that the chair had been carved by skilled dwarves, captured and forced to work, and then killed upon the satisfaction of the throne's owner. Though there were tall thin slits of windows, the sunlight barely seemed to enter this room. It was as if the sunlight itself were fearful of what was contained therein. Torches surrounded the walls, but instead of casting warm light they only accentuated the already hideous and bleak area.
Gromtak awaited his Master with extreme fear. He hadn't been able to fulfill his duties to find the manuscripts, though he and his armies had searched almost all of Middle Earth. Many prisoners had been taken in various raids and battles in the last year since the manuscripts had disappeared. They had been tortured and many had been killed during interrogations. Gromtak was finally able to get the tiniest piece of information from an elf he had personally interrogated. It was long in coming; several months to be exact. The elf had had enormous strength of will and he had yielded late last evening, begging for a quick death in exchange for information. Under normal circumstances, Gromtak would have denied such a request in order to acquire more from the prisoner, but he feared for his own life. He shuddered as he remembered his Master's words: "You will find me these books and soon or I will hang you by your toes and peel the skin off of you inch by inch and feed you to my hounds skinned alive." His Master was never one for empty threats, and the news Gromtak had would not necessarily benefit his hide.
One could hear him coming down the hallway to the throne room long before he was anywhere near it. His footsteps echoed causing those who knew what neared to tremble with fright. His gait was not the loud clumping one would expect of such a tall creature, but soft and hushed, with an almost muffled echo. With each step getting gradually closer, Gromtak felt himself perspire and shake with terror. At last his Master had come.
He entered from behind Gromtak, who was facing the throne on his knees wringing his hands. He came close to Gromtak and his cloak caressed Gromtak's cheek causing Gromtak's stomach to heave. Gromtak calmed his rolling belly and watched his Master walk to the throne. He wore a long cloak that seemed to be as alive as the walls. The cloak mirrored its Master's movements, which were purposeful, determined, quiet and gracefully sinister. Though it looked a shiny black, in the right angle of light one would see that the Master wore no black at all, rather his attire was entirely of a very dark bloody red. His garb had the disturbing effect of rendering all unable to avert their eyes when he was in their presence, and those who were ever in his company wished for blindness as the Master's guise was terrifying.
Malficent seated himself upon his self-proclaimed throne and took a casual, almost bored pose. With his chin resting upon one hand and the other quietly tapping the arm of the chair, he watched his servant. He received word that Gromtak had obtained a small piece of news for him, the first since he had put this miserable orc in charge of gathering information. Malficent was almost disappointed that the orc had come through. He had been looking forward to punishing him.
"Come here" said Malficent, beckoning to Gromtak. "What news have you?" His voice was like silk and honey, deceptively lovely when used in soft tones. It was the voice and tone of a Venus Flytrap luring its prey, killing it when it neared. In anger, this same voice was capable of stopping one's heart with fear at the sound of it.
Hesitantly Gromtak climbed the steps toward the throne, and bowing before his Master he whispered "They have been hidden Master. An elf said that Gandalf had entrusted two of his warriors to hide the manuscripts somewhere unreachable by you."
Malficent leaned back and stroked Gromtak's head. After ensuring that Gromtak had dispensed all the information he had Malficent said "That was well done. You have earned yourself a reward."
Gromtak let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He almost smiled with relief until he heard his Master's next words, "You will not be skinned, but simply thrown to my hounds. Perhaps your replacement will work a little harder to come up with information more efficiently., and will not assume the some simpering elf is correct in the supposition that I am unable to do anything I please."
Malficent could hear the orc's pointless cries and begging as he was dragged out. It was indeed the best information he had received in the past year. He knew that Gandalf was the only thing that truly stood in the way of his total domination of Middle Earth. When those manuscripts were in his hands he would have the key to defeating the wizard, leaving the door open to conquering the last of the elves and bending the wills of humans to his whims. The knowledge that Gandalf feared him enough to hide the documents filled him with satisfaction. He had backed the wizard into a corner and soon he would strike his prey. With a smile that would have made any mortal seeing it go insane, he went to his rooms to meditate on Gandalf's hiding place.
**************************************
"No. Absolutely not. I refuse!!" exclaimed Alania. "You have spent the last two and a half months training me in combat, and I have had enough. I have a life that can't just stop because you think there are more important things I should be taking care of. I have clients I need to see. In the last few weeks you 'allowed' me four days to head out on a video shoot. Four days, Legolas! Where do you think the money comes from to pay for all this stuff you got to train me on, much less get food to feed us? One client in over two months is unacceptable. Period. I don't want to hear another word on it. Furthermore, I will be having my friends over this weekend for some fun and to work on moves for the next video. Do I make myself clear?"
"Alania, this training could save your life one day. You must see that. I am not trying to stop your life. I am trying to keep you safe. You are involved in something you cannot fathom. You must simply trust me" replied Legolas. He couldn't believe she was not willing to practice today. She had been doing well, her training progressing rapidly. In a short time she showed remarkable hand-to-hand fighting skills. He knew she would be able to defend herself in a close distance if she needed to, but he wanted her to be able to avoid that kind of situation. Her archery skills were dismal at best, and he was determined to get her able to make a shot that would at least frighten off an enemy. That was what he wanted her to work on today.
Georn watched the two verbally spar, and shook his head with exasperation. He had noticed them gazing at each other when the other wasn't looking for the last two months. Even a blind person would see their attraction and desire for the other. The sexual tension was a powder keg waiting for a lit match. They seemed to think that they could release this tension by arguing with each other. A lot.
It occurred to Georn that Alania had gotten as good in hand-to-hand combat as quickly as she had because she enjoyed throwing punches at and threatening to knife Legolas. She had the most sinister smiles of satisfaction when she landed a blow or made him dodge unexpectedly. He was sure that something had happened between the two of them the day Alania had taken them shopping, because starting the next day they avoided each other as much as possible and began verbally sparing.
A part of him wanted them to just sleep together already and release the tension, but he knew both of them well enough to know that neither readily participated in casual sex. They were of two different worlds, and they knew that eventually they would part. The likelihood of ever seeing each other after that was slim to none. Legolas and Alania were unwilling to accept their feelings for each other for fear of the inevitable pain of loss. Georn sighed and waited for them to pause before he broke into their argument.
"Legolas, perhaps we have been working Alania too hard. She cannot be expected to be the warrior you are in such a short time. She has done exceedingly well considering, and I believe she has no talent whatsoever in archery. Therefore it is pointless to continue to train someone in something they have no natural abilities for unless they want to practice. No offense Alania" said Georn.
"None taken" replied Alania. "He's right, you know. I can't shoot an arrow for the life of me, and right now I don't want to even look at any sort of weapon. I can't even believe you've convinced me to handle these things. I hate fighting. I hate weapons. War disgusts me. Please Legolas. Just let me have this weekend and I will shoot, cut or hit anything you want me to next week. Please." She was sick of training, sick of fighting with him and was completely burnt out. She needed a break and if she had to beg, so be it.
Legolas could not believe that Alania was practically begging him. It was unlike her. She was strong, opinionated, the most accepting person he had ever met, and she had taken everything he had thrown her way with aplomb. He knew he was pushing her harder than he pushed most of the warriors he trained at home, but this was not normal circumstances. He had felt something in the air of late, and it disturbed him. Something foul was on its way and he wanted to protect Alania. One of the ways he knew to protect her was to make sure she could defend herself.
He glanced at her and then at Georn. They both looked tired and care worn, but determined to have their way this time. There was no way he would win this argument. Perhaps having two days off would benefit all their spirits. "Alright. But you mustn't tell your friends why we are really here, and you must return to your training come Monday" said a resigned Legolas.
Alania was so pleased and surprised with Legolas's surrender that she threw her arms around him in a hug. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You will so not regret this. Your will is my command come Monday, kind sir!" she said. "And as for telling my friends about why you're really here, don't worry about it. Like they would believe the truth." She released her hold on Legolas and ran back to the house to make some phone calls.
Upon seeing the look of shock on Legolas's face at Alania's hug slowly change to one of smug amusement he said "Kind of makes you want to let her have her way more often, doesn't it?" Chuckling at his friend, Georn followed Alania to find out what she had in store for them for the weekend.
Keep this author happy and click the review button!!
A/N: A great big thank you to all of my reviewers. You guys totally rock. Seriously, your input keeps me going. A special thanks to Aradi for the compliments and words of wisdom. I promise not to rush the relationship and to make it worth your wait for their *ahem* climax. Here's a chapter to keep the bigger story moving.
Chapter 7 – News and A Break
It was a large and imposing room. The black moist walls seemingly moved as if breathing and even if an elf had looked up they would be unable to see the ceiling. Dank air filled the space and there was a thorough lack of furniture save the huge carved stone chair at the top of the dais at the back of the room. This chair was the Master's throne and was designed to be menacing. It had been carved from one massive slab of black marble that could not have fit through any doorway of this tower save by magic. Rumor had it that the chair had been carved by skilled dwarves, captured and forced to work, and then killed upon the satisfaction of the throne's owner. Though there were tall thin slits of windows, the sunlight barely seemed to enter this room. It was as if the sunlight itself were fearful of what was contained therein. Torches surrounded the walls, but instead of casting warm light they only accentuated the already hideous and bleak area.
Gromtak awaited his Master with extreme fear. He hadn't been able to fulfill his duties to find the manuscripts, though he and his armies had searched almost all of Middle Earth. Many prisoners had been taken in various raids and battles in the last year since the manuscripts had disappeared. They had been tortured and many had been killed during interrogations. Gromtak was finally able to get the tiniest piece of information from an elf he had personally interrogated. It was long in coming; several months to be exact. The elf had had enormous strength of will and he had yielded late last evening, begging for a quick death in exchange for information. Under normal circumstances, Gromtak would have denied such a request in order to acquire more from the prisoner, but he feared for his own life. He shuddered as he remembered his Master's words: "You will find me these books and soon or I will hang you by your toes and peel the skin off of you inch by inch and feed you to my hounds skinned alive." His Master was never one for empty threats, and the news Gromtak had would not necessarily benefit his hide.
One could hear him coming down the hallway to the throne room long before he was anywhere near it. His footsteps echoed causing those who knew what neared to tremble with fright. His gait was not the loud clumping one would expect of such a tall creature, but soft and hushed, with an almost muffled echo. With each step getting gradually closer, Gromtak felt himself perspire and shake with terror. At last his Master had come.
He entered from behind Gromtak, who was facing the throne on his knees wringing his hands. He came close to Gromtak and his cloak caressed Gromtak's cheek causing Gromtak's stomach to heave. Gromtak calmed his rolling belly and watched his Master walk to the throne. He wore a long cloak that seemed to be as alive as the walls. The cloak mirrored its Master's movements, which were purposeful, determined, quiet and gracefully sinister. Though it looked a shiny black, in the right angle of light one would see that the Master wore no black at all, rather his attire was entirely of a very dark bloody red. His garb had the disturbing effect of rendering all unable to avert their eyes when he was in their presence, and those who were ever in his company wished for blindness as the Master's guise was terrifying.
Malficent seated himself upon his self-proclaimed throne and took a casual, almost bored pose. With his chin resting upon one hand and the other quietly tapping the arm of the chair, he watched his servant. He received word that Gromtak had obtained a small piece of news for him, the first since he had put this miserable orc in charge of gathering information. Malficent was almost disappointed that the orc had come through. He had been looking forward to punishing him.
"Come here" said Malficent, beckoning to Gromtak. "What news have you?" His voice was like silk and honey, deceptively lovely when used in soft tones. It was the voice and tone of a Venus Flytrap luring its prey, killing it when it neared. In anger, this same voice was capable of stopping one's heart with fear at the sound of it.
Hesitantly Gromtak climbed the steps toward the throne, and bowing before his Master he whispered "They have been hidden Master. An elf said that Gandalf had entrusted two of his warriors to hide the manuscripts somewhere unreachable by you."
Malficent leaned back and stroked Gromtak's head. After ensuring that Gromtak had dispensed all the information he had Malficent said "That was well done. You have earned yourself a reward."
Gromtak let out the breath he hadn't realized he had been holding. He almost smiled with relief until he heard his Master's next words, "You will not be skinned, but simply thrown to my hounds. Perhaps your replacement will work a little harder to come up with information more efficiently., and will not assume the some simpering elf is correct in the supposition that I am unable to do anything I please."
Malficent could hear the orc's pointless cries and begging as he was dragged out. It was indeed the best information he had received in the past year. He knew that Gandalf was the only thing that truly stood in the way of his total domination of Middle Earth. When those manuscripts were in his hands he would have the key to defeating the wizard, leaving the door open to conquering the last of the elves and bending the wills of humans to his whims. The knowledge that Gandalf feared him enough to hide the documents filled him with satisfaction. He had backed the wizard into a corner and soon he would strike his prey. With a smile that would have made any mortal seeing it go insane, he went to his rooms to meditate on Gandalf's hiding place.
**************************************
"No. Absolutely not. I refuse!!" exclaimed Alania. "You have spent the last two and a half months training me in combat, and I have had enough. I have a life that can't just stop because you think there are more important things I should be taking care of. I have clients I need to see. In the last few weeks you 'allowed' me four days to head out on a video shoot. Four days, Legolas! Where do you think the money comes from to pay for all this stuff you got to train me on, much less get food to feed us? One client in over two months is unacceptable. Period. I don't want to hear another word on it. Furthermore, I will be having my friends over this weekend for some fun and to work on moves for the next video. Do I make myself clear?"
"Alania, this training could save your life one day. You must see that. I am not trying to stop your life. I am trying to keep you safe. You are involved in something you cannot fathom. You must simply trust me" replied Legolas. He couldn't believe she was not willing to practice today. She had been doing well, her training progressing rapidly. In a short time she showed remarkable hand-to-hand fighting skills. He knew she would be able to defend herself in a close distance if she needed to, but he wanted her to be able to avoid that kind of situation. Her archery skills were dismal at best, and he was determined to get her able to make a shot that would at least frighten off an enemy. That was what he wanted her to work on today.
Georn watched the two verbally spar, and shook his head with exasperation. He had noticed them gazing at each other when the other wasn't looking for the last two months. Even a blind person would see their attraction and desire for the other. The sexual tension was a powder keg waiting for a lit match. They seemed to think that they could release this tension by arguing with each other. A lot.
It occurred to Georn that Alania had gotten as good in hand-to-hand combat as quickly as she had because she enjoyed throwing punches at and threatening to knife Legolas. She had the most sinister smiles of satisfaction when she landed a blow or made him dodge unexpectedly. He was sure that something had happened between the two of them the day Alania had taken them shopping, because starting the next day they avoided each other as much as possible and began verbally sparing.
A part of him wanted them to just sleep together already and release the tension, but he knew both of them well enough to know that neither readily participated in casual sex. They were of two different worlds, and they knew that eventually they would part. The likelihood of ever seeing each other after that was slim to none. Legolas and Alania were unwilling to accept their feelings for each other for fear of the inevitable pain of loss. Georn sighed and waited for them to pause before he broke into their argument.
"Legolas, perhaps we have been working Alania too hard. She cannot be expected to be the warrior you are in such a short time. She has done exceedingly well considering, and I believe she has no talent whatsoever in archery. Therefore it is pointless to continue to train someone in something they have no natural abilities for unless they want to practice. No offense Alania" said Georn.
"None taken" replied Alania. "He's right, you know. I can't shoot an arrow for the life of me, and right now I don't want to even look at any sort of weapon. I can't even believe you've convinced me to handle these things. I hate fighting. I hate weapons. War disgusts me. Please Legolas. Just let me have this weekend and I will shoot, cut or hit anything you want me to next week. Please." She was sick of training, sick of fighting with him and was completely burnt out. She needed a break and if she had to beg, so be it.
Legolas could not believe that Alania was practically begging him. It was unlike her. She was strong, opinionated, the most accepting person he had ever met, and she had taken everything he had thrown her way with aplomb. He knew he was pushing her harder than he pushed most of the warriors he trained at home, but this was not normal circumstances. He had felt something in the air of late, and it disturbed him. Something foul was on its way and he wanted to protect Alania. One of the ways he knew to protect her was to make sure she could defend herself.
He glanced at her and then at Georn. They both looked tired and care worn, but determined to have their way this time. There was no way he would win this argument. Perhaps having two days off would benefit all their spirits. "Alright. But you mustn't tell your friends why we are really here, and you must return to your training come Monday" said a resigned Legolas.
Alania was so pleased and surprised with Legolas's surrender that she threw her arms around him in a hug. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! You will so not regret this. Your will is my command come Monday, kind sir!" she said. "And as for telling my friends about why you're really here, don't worry about it. Like they would believe the truth." She released her hold on Legolas and ran back to the house to make some phone calls.
Upon seeing the look of shock on Legolas's face at Alania's hug slowly change to one of smug amusement he said "Kind of makes you want to let her have her way more often, doesn't it?" Chuckling at his friend, Georn followed Alania to find out what she had in store for them for the weekend.
Keep this author happy and click the review button!!