Dragon Witch
By Nezumi
Chapter Fourteen: Night Ride
History is often learned so many do not make the same mistakes again, or so the professors of such say. Many of the mistakes made through history are repeated, for it is a never-ending cycle. This is true for mortal but what of immortals? They do not die so how is history to repeat itself, for they are history itself but also are the present…
Elven-men took up their swords and staves as the women for their live. "Foolish," Grian commented to one but herself as she grabbed a dagger from the side of her leg. "They should have been a great help." She lied not, elven-women no matter what Elrond said were just as capable of battle as Elven-men—if not more so. But feat held a tight chain over their slaves, and so they fled. "If I did not know better, my lord, I would say you should have predicted this."
"I suspect and nothing more," Legolas replied letting two arrows find their targets.
One orc approached and looked at Grian strangely before raising his blade, a dagger lodged itself in his skull and Grian began her rampage. Legolas' eyebrows raised, quiet ones always were dangerous. She came upon an Uruk-hai. "Bastard," she hissed and slit his throat grabbing the sword that dropped from his limp, ugly, wretched hand. She shifted it in her hand a brief moment, the darkness nearly consumed her. Giving a cry from the pain on her shoulder, an orc fell away with three arrows in his back. Taking her place into consideration, she swept and Legolas gulped as the orcs fell around her. "Legolas," the hissed in a dreadful chant, following the archer like metal follows magnet.
Amaryllis watched from her horse in the shadows of the woods. She pointed her sword at Grian, "I shall get you, Grian." Then re-sheathed the shining object, steering her horse to the East.
There are visions, there are memories
There are echoes of thundering hooves
There are fires, there is laughter
There's the sound of a thousand doves…
"Grian, they follow only us," Legolas grabbed her. A single horse had been stolen, killed, or otherwise in the blind terror. Reduced as they were to one, they felt fortunate elves rode lightly. "Let us lead them away from this village."
She jumped atop his steed, and Legolas was not far behind. Giving a whistle, he waved like a mad-man at the herd, and they ran. Urging his horse forward, he bent over Grian—galloping on into the night. She cringed.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
Legolas looked down, and upon her bare shoulder a wound glowing green prevailed. "Poison. Magic poison."
"It is a scratch," she replied. "If the fool knew better, he would know you must strike an artery of the body near the surface. Quiet."
The army followed closely and Legolas felt his heart beat faster. For an unfathomable reason, he believed Grian needed to live more than he. Blind. He tightened his grasp on the reins, and pulled her closer, after all she was nearly small enough to fall away from him.
Her words danced upon the wind,
"In the velvet of the darkness
By the silhouette of silent trees
They are watching, they are waiting
They are witnessing life's mysteries."
Smiling despite the perilous situation he whispered in her ear the words of the verse that was to follow…
"Cascading stars on the slumbering hills
They are dancing as far as the sea
Riding o'er the land, you can feel its gentle hand
Leading on to its destiny."
His heart raced nearly as fast the horse below him, and felt Grian's breathing become hard and coarse, so unlike her. She was delicate, or well, had been until he seen her fight. Blood didn't daunt her. Once again however she had returned to the fragile being, and he saw fit, as the royal heir and soon to be King of Mirkwood, to protect her. She licked her parched lips as came upon the road. Of all things, she reached, and jerked the horse to a stop.
"Grian!" he cried hoarsely the wind had stolen much of his breath and carried it to the East.
She began murmuring a sacred chant with her arms circling in the cyclone's fuery around each other before she halted them, and her eyes narrowed. All was still for the moment 'til those eyes he had seen as so delicate flared, and her right arm, poised as before shot out toward the orcs. The herd of beasts screamed in despair as canyons to hell trapped them on a pitiless island. "So tired," she murmured.
And Legolas murmured some ancient of his own. An arrow full of any destruction he had been able to reap from his old mind shot across the forest, a great explosion consecutively following. The enemy screamed in agony, and writhed in their pain while they were blown away. Suddenly Grian's eyes rolled heavenward, and she dropped to the ground.
Legolas rode harder than he ever believed possible to his castle, a castle in the trees. The healer's eyes widened as he carried her in. Nothing in his vast medicine cabinet could save this ancient one, and she was an ancient. So he bid Legolas sit with her, and forbade them from entering the castle. Such a terrible disease should not be spread.
"Take me with you on this journey
Where the boundaries of time are now tossed
In cathedrals of the forest
In the words of the tongues now lost
Find the answers, ask the questions
Find the roots of an ancient tree
Take me dancing, take me singing
I'll ride on till the moon meets the sea…"
Her sleep fitful, her scar healed in a matter of moments upon his first utterance of the words, and all he could do was sit by ad watch. Pippin came in a bit later, sitting by his old friend, munching on an apple, yet though not by appearance—Pip was quite worried. It was not like Legolas who cherished life ever the more to kill his horse and not care. Should the young master be in love? Love was grand, yet blind, Pippin knew. Her beauty surpassed even Rosie's…
Suddenyl her eyes flipped open with her lip up-curled lunged for Legolas. The eyes she possessed were not her own but blood red of evil, one possessed by on other—Sauron. "Grian!' Legolas said grabbing her wrists. He was not afraid of the hall of the dead, and he had been in this predicament before. Was she too possessed by the Black Queen?
"Oh!" she dropped her hands and covered her face, sobbing. "I should not practice such high magic and things, I go mad! Mad!"
Pippin assured she had been but dreaming, slipped away as Legolas wrapped his arms around her. Perhaps now was a quite opportune time for a late night snack with Amaryllis. She made the best biscuits outside the Shire!
"I…I…"
Legolas kissed her forehead tenderly. "It is forgivable, my lady." Grian's heart skipped a beat. NO! her head screamed. You mustn't! You mustn't! You mustn't feel such at his touch, you mustn't think such thoughts, you mustn't fall in love! Handsome, yes, but so persistent, tender, so awar e, so kind, so determined… quit it! Never must you! He is a kind an will be a ring bearer in time. I mustn't.
A voice tore her away from her own thoughts and back into the world of the physical, "What is wrong?"
"No!" she whispered, scrambling away to a chair on the side of the bed. Then relaxed. What am I worried for? "I-I…" She stood and began pacing, his arm stopped her. Her heart sighed and she fell into a sweet embrace that she had not felt for so long. "Legolas, I…"
"Grian," he looked at her, and pulled her up to look her in the eye. Her eyes cast downward and he took her chin his hand raising it up. When the first rose in Mirkwood, blossomed, Legolas leaned toward Grian, the mystery of the East.
.-*-.
A.N. ^.^ I mean to torture y'all. 'Specially me good friend Lady Une. ^.^ Sorry Union. Anywhosers…Grian ain't like me at all. No. No. Never! *twiddles thumbs* I love feedback and oddly enough flames, so please help the cause! Danke!
Disclaimer I don't own the song. Loreena McKennitt does. Night Ride Across the Caucasus on her Book of Secrets album. Actual inspiration for chapter! ^.^
E-Mail messy@usa.com
By Nezumi
Chapter Fourteen: Night Ride
History is often learned so many do not make the same mistakes again, or so the professors of such say. Many of the mistakes made through history are repeated, for it is a never-ending cycle. This is true for mortal but what of immortals? They do not die so how is history to repeat itself, for they are history itself but also are the present…
Elven-men took up their swords and staves as the women for their live. "Foolish," Grian commented to one but herself as she grabbed a dagger from the side of her leg. "They should have been a great help." She lied not, elven-women no matter what Elrond said were just as capable of battle as Elven-men—if not more so. But feat held a tight chain over their slaves, and so they fled. "If I did not know better, my lord, I would say you should have predicted this."
"I suspect and nothing more," Legolas replied letting two arrows find their targets.
One orc approached and looked at Grian strangely before raising his blade, a dagger lodged itself in his skull and Grian began her rampage. Legolas' eyebrows raised, quiet ones always were dangerous. She came upon an Uruk-hai. "Bastard," she hissed and slit his throat grabbing the sword that dropped from his limp, ugly, wretched hand. She shifted it in her hand a brief moment, the darkness nearly consumed her. Giving a cry from the pain on her shoulder, an orc fell away with three arrows in his back. Taking her place into consideration, she swept and Legolas gulped as the orcs fell around her. "Legolas," the hissed in a dreadful chant, following the archer like metal follows magnet.
Amaryllis watched from her horse in the shadows of the woods. She pointed her sword at Grian, "I shall get you, Grian." Then re-sheathed the shining object, steering her horse to the East.
There are visions, there are memories
There are echoes of thundering hooves
There are fires, there is laughter
There's the sound of a thousand doves…
"Grian, they follow only us," Legolas grabbed her. A single horse had been stolen, killed, or otherwise in the blind terror. Reduced as they were to one, they felt fortunate elves rode lightly. "Let us lead them away from this village."
She jumped atop his steed, and Legolas was not far behind. Giving a whistle, he waved like a mad-man at the herd, and they ran. Urging his horse forward, he bent over Grian—galloping on into the night. She cringed.
"Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí… Go lagaí do chuid naimhde do chroí…"
Legolas looked down, and upon her bare shoulder a wound glowing green prevailed. "Poison. Magic poison."
"It is a scratch," she replied. "If the fool knew better, he would know you must strike an artery of the body near the surface. Quiet."
The army followed closely and Legolas felt his heart beat faster. For an unfathomable reason, he believed Grian needed to live more than he. Blind. He tightened his grasp on the reins, and pulled her closer, after all she was nearly small enough to fall away from him.
Her words danced upon the wind,
"In the velvet of the darkness
By the silhouette of silent trees
They are watching, they are waiting
They are witnessing life's mysteries."
Smiling despite the perilous situation he whispered in her ear the words of the verse that was to follow…
"Cascading stars on the slumbering hills
They are dancing as far as the sea
Riding o'er the land, you can feel its gentle hand
Leading on to its destiny."
His heart raced nearly as fast the horse below him, and felt Grian's breathing become hard and coarse, so unlike her. She was delicate, or well, had been until he seen her fight. Blood didn't daunt her. Once again however she had returned to the fragile being, and he saw fit, as the royal heir and soon to be King of Mirkwood, to protect her. She licked her parched lips as came upon the road. Of all things, she reached, and jerked the horse to a stop.
"Grian!" he cried hoarsely the wind had stolen much of his breath and carried it to the East.
She began murmuring a sacred chant with her arms circling in the cyclone's fuery around each other before she halted them, and her eyes narrowed. All was still for the moment 'til those eyes he had seen as so delicate flared, and her right arm, poised as before shot out toward the orcs. The herd of beasts screamed in despair as canyons to hell trapped them on a pitiless island. "So tired," she murmured.
And Legolas murmured some ancient of his own. An arrow full of any destruction he had been able to reap from his old mind shot across the forest, a great explosion consecutively following. The enemy screamed in agony, and writhed in their pain while they were blown away. Suddenly Grian's eyes rolled heavenward, and she dropped to the ground.
Legolas rode harder than he ever believed possible to his castle, a castle in the trees. The healer's eyes widened as he carried her in. Nothing in his vast medicine cabinet could save this ancient one, and she was an ancient. So he bid Legolas sit with her, and forbade them from entering the castle. Such a terrible disease should not be spread.
"Take me with you on this journey
Where the boundaries of time are now tossed
In cathedrals of the forest
In the words of the tongues now lost
Find the answers, ask the questions
Find the roots of an ancient tree
Take me dancing, take me singing
I'll ride on till the moon meets the sea…"
Her sleep fitful, her scar healed in a matter of moments upon his first utterance of the words, and all he could do was sit by ad watch. Pippin came in a bit later, sitting by his old friend, munching on an apple, yet though not by appearance—Pip was quite worried. It was not like Legolas who cherished life ever the more to kill his horse and not care. Should the young master be in love? Love was grand, yet blind, Pippin knew. Her beauty surpassed even Rosie's…
Suddenyl her eyes flipped open with her lip up-curled lunged for Legolas. The eyes she possessed were not her own but blood red of evil, one possessed by on other—Sauron. "Grian!' Legolas said grabbing her wrists. He was not afraid of the hall of the dead, and he had been in this predicament before. Was she too possessed by the Black Queen?
"Oh!" she dropped her hands and covered her face, sobbing. "I should not practice such high magic and things, I go mad! Mad!"
Pippin assured she had been but dreaming, slipped away as Legolas wrapped his arms around her. Perhaps now was a quite opportune time for a late night snack with Amaryllis. She made the best biscuits outside the Shire!
"I…I…"
Legolas kissed her forehead tenderly. "It is forgivable, my lady." Grian's heart skipped a beat. NO! her head screamed. You mustn't! You mustn't! You mustn't feel such at his touch, you mustn't think such thoughts, you mustn't fall in love! Handsome, yes, but so persistent, tender, so awar e, so kind, so determined… quit it! Never must you! He is a kind an will be a ring bearer in time. I mustn't.
A voice tore her away from her own thoughts and back into the world of the physical, "What is wrong?"
"No!" she whispered, scrambling away to a chair on the side of the bed. Then relaxed. What am I worried for? "I-I…" She stood and began pacing, his arm stopped her. Her heart sighed and she fell into a sweet embrace that she had not felt for so long. "Legolas, I…"
"Grian," he looked at her, and pulled her up to look her in the eye. Her eyes cast downward and he took her chin his hand raising it up. When the first rose in Mirkwood, blossomed, Legolas leaned toward Grian, the mystery of the East.
.-*-.
A.N. ^.^ I mean to torture y'all. 'Specially me good friend Lady Une. ^.^ Sorry Union. Anywhosers…Grian ain't like me at all. No. No. Never! *twiddles thumbs* I love feedback and oddly enough flames, so please help the cause! Danke!
Disclaimer I don't own the song. Loreena McKennitt does. Night Ride Across the Caucasus on her Book of Secrets album. Actual inspiration for chapter! ^.^
E-Mail messy@usa.com