Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings or anything connected to it.
Salafir is mine, but nothing else here.
Author's note: This is just the introduction, it will get exciting later on. I hope. Please review.
***
Metal clanked against metal as Salafir shifted in the bed. He stared up at the stone ceiling, his mind blank and his feelings desolate. In his memory, he heard again the mocking tones of his friend Bergil.
"Are you a coward?" If only Bergil had kept his teasing to himself. This was all his fault, Salafir thought angrily.
He sighed. He knew it wasn't really, but it helped ease his feelings to blame it on Bergil. Still, he knew that it didn't really matter that Bergil's words had goaded him into actions. He was the one who had acted, and therefore was the one responsible.
He shifted again on the hard bed in the cold cell, and the chains that held his wrists and ankles clanged together. He wondered how long he had been in here. A day, perhaps more. Sal had no way of telling how much time had passed, as the only window was a small grill in the door, looking out on a guarded corridor. He also wondered how long they intended to keep him here. What he didn't wonder about was what they would do to him. He knew that. Death was the only penalty for the crime he had committed. Sal just wished they would hurry up and bring it.
***
He awoke as he heard footsteps outside and pushed himself into a sitting position. The door opened and in came a guard in the silver and black uniform of the citadel guard.
"You are to come before the king," the guard announced solemnly, and Sal nodded. He had expected no less. So he stood up, and walked out of the cell willingly, but hampered by the chains he wore. He considered running, as the guard led him out into the evening light of the city, but there was nowhere to run to. The only home he had ever known was Minas Tirith. Then there were his parents. They would be dishonoured enough by his actions, he wouldn't add to their shame by running away. He would face his penalty bravely and proudly.
Now he just needed to convince his limbs of that to stop them shaking.
He walked through the streets of the city towards the citadel, glad that they were so quiet, late into the evening. A few figures stopped to watch as the guard led him past, but he looked away, ashamed. He thought he caught a glimpse of Bergil out of the corner of his eye, but didn't turn to see if it was really him. He hoped Bergil wouldn't be too hard on himself about this. But there was still the part of him that wanted to blame Bergil, despite knowing in his mind it wasn't so.
The guard gave the password as they approached the gateway to the citadel and the gate opened. Sal walked slowly through the gate, seeing the white tree that stood in the centre of court. The symbol of all that the king had done, and all that Sal had forgotten the night of his foolishness.
As he entered the throne room, he looked up at the king who sat on his throne. Mighty and majestic as the legends of his deeds. Sal found his eyes caught by the grey eyes and couldn't look away. Shame burned his face as the thoughts of his actions filled his mind. This man could kill an army of orcs on his own, and Sal had forgotten that in his folly.
His limbs shook as he stood there, finally able to look away and cast his eyes down in shame. In the silence, Sal waited for the death blow that he had earned. Inside the king spoke.
"Why?" he asked.
"Foolishness," Sal replied simply, he felt even more foolish now he had to explain his actions. "A friend and he were discussing your quest. My friend said that you must have such good fortune, and that even a lock of your hair would be a token of great fortune. He suggested, in jest, that I should try and take a piece and called me a coward when I refused. He only meant it in fun, but his words stung me." Sal knew it was no excuse, and that his reason sounded even more foolish aloud than when he thought of it. "I am sorry," Sal said, "I meant no harm." There was another silence, and Sal felt the king's eyes bore into him, but didn't dare look up.
"What is your friend's name?"
"The deed was mine, not his," Sal replied, "please do not give him any blame for what I did."
"His name!"
"Bergil, son of Beregond." Sal felt his shame growing, that he had unwittingly included his friend in his folly. Whatever punishment was to be given to him, Bergil had done no more than tease him in a way all boys did.
"Please, he hasn't done anything wrong," Sal insisted, "I beg you, do not punish him in any way."
"You beg for the sake of another but not for yourself?" King Elessar smiled slightly as he spoke, though Sal couldn't guess at what.
"Bergil has done nothing. What I did, I did on my own in my own foolishness."
"You admit to your guilt freely, knowing the penalty for lifting a weapon to your king?"
"Yes," Sal replied, though his voice trembled as he spoke. He found his gaze once more caught in that of the king and felt as though King Elessar could see right through him to the very weaknesses of his soul. Then the king raised his eyes and signalled to the guard who still stood at the door to take Sal away.
Sal was led through corridors in a trance. He didn't know where he was being taken, nor did he care. It didn't matter any more. Judgement had been passed, any time Sal had left was just an interlude before the sentence was carried out. He barely paid any attention as the guard removed the chains, and locked him in a room different from the cell he had been taken from. He just sank down on the bed and closed his eyes, for what would probably be his last night alive.
Author's note: This is just the introduction, it will get exciting later on. I hope. Please review.
***
Metal clanked against metal as Salafir shifted in the bed. He stared up at the stone ceiling, his mind blank and his feelings desolate. In his memory, he heard again the mocking tones of his friend Bergil.
"Are you a coward?" If only Bergil had kept his teasing to himself. This was all his fault, Salafir thought angrily.
He sighed. He knew it wasn't really, but it helped ease his feelings to blame it on Bergil. Still, he knew that it didn't really matter that Bergil's words had goaded him into actions. He was the one who had acted, and therefore was the one responsible.
He shifted again on the hard bed in the cold cell, and the chains that held his wrists and ankles clanged together. He wondered how long he had been in here. A day, perhaps more. Sal had no way of telling how much time had passed, as the only window was a small grill in the door, looking out on a guarded corridor. He also wondered how long they intended to keep him here. What he didn't wonder about was what they would do to him. He knew that. Death was the only penalty for the crime he had committed. Sal just wished they would hurry up and bring it.
***
He awoke as he heard footsteps outside and pushed himself into a sitting position. The door opened and in came a guard in the silver and black uniform of the citadel guard.
"You are to come before the king," the guard announced solemnly, and Sal nodded. He had expected no less. So he stood up, and walked out of the cell willingly, but hampered by the chains he wore. He considered running, as the guard led him out into the evening light of the city, but there was nowhere to run to. The only home he had ever known was Minas Tirith. Then there were his parents. They would be dishonoured enough by his actions, he wouldn't add to their shame by running away. He would face his penalty bravely and proudly.
Now he just needed to convince his limbs of that to stop them shaking.
He walked through the streets of the city towards the citadel, glad that they were so quiet, late into the evening. A few figures stopped to watch as the guard led him past, but he looked away, ashamed. He thought he caught a glimpse of Bergil out of the corner of his eye, but didn't turn to see if it was really him. He hoped Bergil wouldn't be too hard on himself about this. But there was still the part of him that wanted to blame Bergil, despite knowing in his mind it wasn't so.
The guard gave the password as they approached the gateway to the citadel and the gate opened. Sal walked slowly through the gate, seeing the white tree that stood in the centre of court. The symbol of all that the king had done, and all that Sal had forgotten the night of his foolishness.
As he entered the throne room, he looked up at the king who sat on his throne. Mighty and majestic as the legends of his deeds. Sal found his eyes caught by the grey eyes and couldn't look away. Shame burned his face as the thoughts of his actions filled his mind. This man could kill an army of orcs on his own, and Sal had forgotten that in his folly.
His limbs shook as he stood there, finally able to look away and cast his eyes down in shame. In the silence, Sal waited for the death blow that he had earned. Inside the king spoke.
"Why?" he asked.
"Foolishness," Sal replied simply, he felt even more foolish now he had to explain his actions. "A friend and he were discussing your quest. My friend said that you must have such good fortune, and that even a lock of your hair would be a token of great fortune. He suggested, in jest, that I should try and take a piece and called me a coward when I refused. He only meant it in fun, but his words stung me." Sal knew it was no excuse, and that his reason sounded even more foolish aloud than when he thought of it. "I am sorry," Sal said, "I meant no harm." There was another silence, and Sal felt the king's eyes bore into him, but didn't dare look up.
"What is your friend's name?"
"The deed was mine, not his," Sal replied, "please do not give him any blame for what I did."
"His name!"
"Bergil, son of Beregond." Sal felt his shame growing, that he had unwittingly included his friend in his folly. Whatever punishment was to be given to him, Bergil had done no more than tease him in a way all boys did.
"Please, he hasn't done anything wrong," Sal insisted, "I beg you, do not punish him in any way."
"You beg for the sake of another but not for yourself?" King Elessar smiled slightly as he spoke, though Sal couldn't guess at what.
"Bergil has done nothing. What I did, I did on my own in my own foolishness."
"You admit to your guilt freely, knowing the penalty for lifting a weapon to your king?"
"Yes," Sal replied, though his voice trembled as he spoke. He found his gaze once more caught in that of the king and felt as though King Elessar could see right through him to the very weaknesses of his soul. Then the king raised his eyes and signalled to the guard who still stood at the door to take Sal away.
Sal was led through corridors in a trance. He didn't know where he was being taken, nor did he care. It didn't matter any more. Judgement had been passed, any time Sal had left was just an interlude before the sentence was carried out. He barely paid any attention as the guard removed the chains, and locked him in a room different from the cell he had been taken from. He just sank down on the bed and closed his eyes, for what would probably be his last night alive.