Home
Belegorath didn't know how much further she was from home, she was just glad to be heading back at last. She grunted in aggravation as the stag she had slung over her shoulder slipped from its perch for a fifth time in the past hour. Laying her game on the ground, the female dropped to one knee reaching for her water satchel. Taking a generous portion of her remaining water then wiping the cool liquid from her mouth with the back of her sleeve, she once again stood and resumed on the trail that led home. The young ranger had just completed a hunting mission, for once without her uncles, Elladan and Elrohir. She was grateful for the time alone, though she did enjoyed the company of her two elven kinsmen. There were times when she wished to be alone, in the company of her own thoughts and left to do her own things, and this was one of those times. Bele knew how hard it must have been for them to let her go, even for but a few weeks. Her whole family had ever so often reminded her that no all lands are understanding as that of Rivendell, her home. And that much she had discovered on her own. Cursing the dim light as she stumbled on the same stray root she always did, Bele did something no one had expected. She threw her head back and laughed a full throated laugh. So good it was to be in a familiar wood, where the clean, crisp smell of home embraced her travel weary body and the soft creek of the oak and birch were like a chorus of welcoming voices. She had been grateful to be away from home and out seeing new places and people. But along her travels the ebony haired ranger discovered that, as well as friendly country, not so welcoming forests lingered in the realms of man. Inhaling the cool dusk air, memories of not so pleasant natures plagued her mind. Brief as they were, encounters with race of orcs left the young woman a little taken aback. Even in the fair elven realm of Lothlorien harsh whispers traveled trough the crowd. "Mutt, half-elf, part blood, illegitimate child, lost cause," was the usual and the girl tried to deafen herself to these terms and turn her heart to stone. But the odd tear still rolled down her weather beaten cheek. But that mattered not now, she was going home to see the smiling faces of her family. Her two, ever mischievous uncles, Elladan and Elrohir. The all knowing smile of lord Elrond that seemed to say " I warned you. But you didn't listen, so you brought it upon yourself" and of course her beloved parents. Now she wanted nothing more than to run into her mothers open arms or to wrestle her father to the ground as she had done so many days ago. And although he was not her kin Bele had grown close to the prince of Mirkwood though she had only met him once. But that was enough. Only her mother saw how she pined for the elven prince. Bele recalled the day the lady Evenstar came and spoke to her.
"Dear one, I see you day after day, starring out your window, at him. Or watching him at the banquets or in your archery lesson or in your schooling or on hunting trips or. well you know of what I speak. Your mind wanders to him where ever your body lies. Talk to him." Her mother half ordered half pleaded. The fair lady Evenstar had learned long ago that it is not ones place to keep love waiting. "Atara." came the quiet response. " I.He has someone. He . I.We, well he can't." " No excuses, either you speak with him or I shall take the liberty of telling my brothers and they can tell him." her mother added with a laugh. "Already in love."Arwen sighed, a distant look crossing her eyes. Her daughter had not inherited the immortality of the elves. She was mortal, as was her father and one day she would lose them both. This thought haunted her both in sleep and waking dreams, how could anyone live knowing how soon it would end? Growing up amongst an immortal race Bele had more often than she would have like been reminded that she was far from immortal. She bled, she got sick, she tripped, she could never hear or see as well, but she was loved. Arwen knew how much it hurt her, that she was never quite as graceful or fast or quiet and pitied for it, her pride she got from her father. But the lady Arwen also knew something no one else did. Alone at night her daughter cried into her pillow. She held all her emotions locked away where no one else could see. Tears formed behind her eyes but she would not cry. Pushing such thoughts from her mind the lady Evenstar smiled at her daughter. //Only a child. // "Atara?" Bele questioned. Breathing out through her nose slowly Bele continued, "I will speak with him." Needing comfort, Bele crawled across the cushion that covered the window seat. Arwen enveloped her daughter in her slender arms, giving all the comfort a mother could give. Automatically snuggling into her mothers arms a warmth and safety she wished never to leave washed over her. // Nin Atara. //
One more hour and she would stop and wait for him, like she had promised. She smiled to herself a little, imagining the looks he would receive from Elladan, Elrohir when she finally returned. And she would say what she had longed to say to them every time they opened their mouths to gloat. " What were you expecting? I am the best shot in all Rivendell, no thanks to you."she could not suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. //Yes that precisely what the need. A good helping of their own medicine. //
The pale orange sun drew low, just passing the tips of the rolling foothills of her beloved Rivendell. Belegorath muttered darkly to herself, realizing she probably wouldn't get home before another sun rises, and that fool of a prince was late. Sighing and resigning herself to her fate, Belegorath walked on through the tall, domineering trees. However she was not aware that she was being watched from the dark depths of the ancient forest. From a distance off, several pairs of eyes caught the elf's unconcealed movements and their brows darkened. Eyothaen watched the elf pick her way through the shadows of dark trees with a dark scowl. "There you are my prize." he muttered quietly to himself. "Well, is that her or what?" "Yes m'lord, 'tis." One of his men responded Belegorath moved easily across the unbroken ground, unaware of the men that watched her. However, this close to Rivendell she was not particularly worried. The prospect of being home at last overwhelmed her with joy. Suddenly Eyothaen looked up to see that the man beside him had risen and laid an arrow across the strings of his crossbow. The fellow was tracking the elf in his sites, about to fire. "Dolt! No! She's no good to us dead!" the former rider of Rohan spat. He leapt to his feet just as the arrow left the bow, slightly spoiling the archer's aim. "You idiot!" Eyothaen shouted. "I want her alive! My lord Saruman said alive!" A fowl sent offended her heightened sense of smell. Horses, blood and.men? As quick as her body would allow, she grabbed her two daggers from their place in the seems of her tunic and faced the direction of the rank stench. A band of men ten to one strong burst out from the woodland growth and on to the ranger. She managed to dispatch two of the reeking human's in one fluid motion, feeling somewhat satisfied with the sound of a pair of limp corpses hitting the damp earth. Saying a silent prayer for the men she paused. Another of the riders grabbed both of her wrists. Biting back a cry she was forced to drop her prized daggers as her wrists were being crushed in his steely grip. Seeing no other way, playing rough was the single glimpse of hope that was left. Bringing her own skull down upon her attacker's Bele managed to free her self from her the man that held her captive. In a flash Belegorath's sword was in hand and she began a tussle with the rage driven mortals. However the young woman quickly realized that for every one she killed, two came back in place. She cursed silently to herself for not having known the presence of the riders sooner and continued fighting the anything that came at her. // Why are attacking me?!? I did nothing to them or their kin! Why seek venom on me? I.// Suddenly a slamming, burning pain shot through Belegorath's left shoulder. She yelped in pain and grimaced while looking down, already having guessed. A large, sinister arrow protruded from her left shoulder, sending a searing pain through out her body, as if her blood was boiling and on fire. The woman took a step forward, but as she did a wave of pain with of the force of a battering ram smacked into her head. Running her good hand along the back of her skull she felt a warm liquid on the tips of her fingers. Blood. Her blood. Suddenly she was grabbed from behind. Without thinking she leaned hard forward, using her enemy's momentum she threw the attacker off her back. But the blade of the man's sword caught the elf across the chest as the rider fell, opening a nasty gash through Belegorath's tunic. The deep crimson stain ran from her upper right shoulder to the side of her ribs on the left and the bite from the steel almost stole the elf's breath. Stepping on the man's throat she grabbed the would be assassins own twisted sword and buried it the mortals chest. The Dunidain felt a wave of nausea wash over her as she saw the second blow. The same pain she felt before as the arrow hit her left shoulder, slammed into her stomach. She didn't need to look down to work out what had happened. She felt her body starting to convulse from the shock. She staggered backwards and felt herself fall, the ground connecting with the back of her head. Then there was darkness.
~*~
Belegorath didn't know how much further she was from home, she was just glad to be heading back at last. She grunted in aggravation as the stag she had slung over her shoulder slipped from its perch for a fifth time in the past hour. Laying her game on the ground, the female dropped to one knee reaching for her water satchel. Taking a generous portion of her remaining water then wiping the cool liquid from her mouth with the back of her sleeve, she once again stood and resumed on the trail that led home. The young ranger had just completed a hunting mission, for once without her uncles, Elladan and Elrohir. She was grateful for the time alone, though she did enjoyed the company of her two elven kinsmen. There were times when she wished to be alone, in the company of her own thoughts and left to do her own things, and this was one of those times. Bele knew how hard it must have been for them to let her go, even for but a few weeks. Her whole family had ever so often reminded her that no all lands are understanding as that of Rivendell, her home. And that much she had discovered on her own. Cursing the dim light as she stumbled on the same stray root she always did, Bele did something no one had expected. She threw her head back and laughed a full throated laugh. So good it was to be in a familiar wood, where the clean, crisp smell of home embraced her travel weary body and the soft creek of the oak and birch were like a chorus of welcoming voices. She had been grateful to be away from home and out seeing new places and people. But along her travels the ebony haired ranger discovered that, as well as friendly country, not so welcoming forests lingered in the realms of man. Inhaling the cool dusk air, memories of not so pleasant natures plagued her mind. Brief as they were, encounters with race of orcs left the young woman a little taken aback. Even in the fair elven realm of Lothlorien harsh whispers traveled trough the crowd. "Mutt, half-elf, part blood, illegitimate child, lost cause," was the usual and the girl tried to deafen herself to these terms and turn her heart to stone. But the odd tear still rolled down her weather beaten cheek. But that mattered not now, she was going home to see the smiling faces of her family. Her two, ever mischievous uncles, Elladan and Elrohir. The all knowing smile of lord Elrond that seemed to say " I warned you. But you didn't listen, so you brought it upon yourself" and of course her beloved parents. Now she wanted nothing more than to run into her mothers open arms or to wrestle her father to the ground as she had done so many days ago. And although he was not her kin Bele had grown close to the prince of Mirkwood though she had only met him once. But that was enough. Only her mother saw how she pined for the elven prince. Bele recalled the day the lady Evenstar came and spoke to her.
"Dear one, I see you day after day, starring out your window, at him. Or watching him at the banquets or in your archery lesson or in your schooling or on hunting trips or. well you know of what I speak. Your mind wanders to him where ever your body lies. Talk to him." Her mother half ordered half pleaded. The fair lady Evenstar had learned long ago that it is not ones place to keep love waiting. "Atara." came the quiet response. " I.He has someone. He . I.We, well he can't." " No excuses, either you speak with him or I shall take the liberty of telling my brothers and they can tell him." her mother added with a laugh. "Already in love."Arwen sighed, a distant look crossing her eyes. Her daughter had not inherited the immortality of the elves. She was mortal, as was her father and one day she would lose them both. This thought haunted her both in sleep and waking dreams, how could anyone live knowing how soon it would end? Growing up amongst an immortal race Bele had more often than she would have like been reminded that she was far from immortal. She bled, she got sick, she tripped, she could never hear or see as well, but she was loved. Arwen knew how much it hurt her, that she was never quite as graceful or fast or quiet and pitied for it, her pride she got from her father. But the lady Arwen also knew something no one else did. Alone at night her daughter cried into her pillow. She held all her emotions locked away where no one else could see. Tears formed behind her eyes but she would not cry. Pushing such thoughts from her mind the lady Evenstar smiled at her daughter. //Only a child. // "Atara?" Bele questioned. Breathing out through her nose slowly Bele continued, "I will speak with him." Needing comfort, Bele crawled across the cushion that covered the window seat. Arwen enveloped her daughter in her slender arms, giving all the comfort a mother could give. Automatically snuggling into her mothers arms a warmth and safety she wished never to leave washed over her. // Nin Atara. //
One more hour and she would stop and wait for him, like she had promised. She smiled to herself a little, imagining the looks he would receive from Elladan, Elrohir when she finally returned. And she would say what she had longed to say to them every time they opened their mouths to gloat. " What were you expecting? I am the best shot in all Rivendell, no thanks to you."she could not suppress the smile that tugged at the corners of her lips. //Yes that precisely what the need. A good helping of their own medicine. //
The pale orange sun drew low, just passing the tips of the rolling foothills of her beloved Rivendell. Belegorath muttered darkly to herself, realizing she probably wouldn't get home before another sun rises, and that fool of a prince was late. Sighing and resigning herself to her fate, Belegorath walked on through the tall, domineering trees. However she was not aware that she was being watched from the dark depths of the ancient forest. From a distance off, several pairs of eyes caught the elf's unconcealed movements and their brows darkened. Eyothaen watched the elf pick her way through the shadows of dark trees with a dark scowl. "There you are my prize." he muttered quietly to himself. "Well, is that her or what?" "Yes m'lord, 'tis." One of his men responded Belegorath moved easily across the unbroken ground, unaware of the men that watched her. However, this close to Rivendell she was not particularly worried. The prospect of being home at last overwhelmed her with joy. Suddenly Eyothaen looked up to see that the man beside him had risen and laid an arrow across the strings of his crossbow. The fellow was tracking the elf in his sites, about to fire. "Dolt! No! She's no good to us dead!" the former rider of Rohan spat. He leapt to his feet just as the arrow left the bow, slightly spoiling the archer's aim. "You idiot!" Eyothaen shouted. "I want her alive! My lord Saruman said alive!" A fowl sent offended her heightened sense of smell. Horses, blood and.men? As quick as her body would allow, she grabbed her two daggers from their place in the seems of her tunic and faced the direction of the rank stench. A band of men ten to one strong burst out from the woodland growth and on to the ranger. She managed to dispatch two of the reeking human's in one fluid motion, feeling somewhat satisfied with the sound of a pair of limp corpses hitting the damp earth. Saying a silent prayer for the men she paused. Another of the riders grabbed both of her wrists. Biting back a cry she was forced to drop her prized daggers as her wrists were being crushed in his steely grip. Seeing no other way, playing rough was the single glimpse of hope that was left. Bringing her own skull down upon her attacker's Bele managed to free her self from her the man that held her captive. In a flash Belegorath's sword was in hand and she began a tussle with the rage driven mortals. However the young woman quickly realized that for every one she killed, two came back in place. She cursed silently to herself for not having known the presence of the riders sooner and continued fighting the anything that came at her. // Why are attacking me?!? I did nothing to them or their kin! Why seek venom on me? I.// Suddenly a slamming, burning pain shot through Belegorath's left shoulder. She yelped in pain and grimaced while looking down, already having guessed. A large, sinister arrow protruded from her left shoulder, sending a searing pain through out her body, as if her blood was boiling and on fire. The woman took a step forward, but as she did a wave of pain with of the force of a battering ram smacked into her head. Running her good hand along the back of her skull she felt a warm liquid on the tips of her fingers. Blood. Her blood. Suddenly she was grabbed from behind. Without thinking she leaned hard forward, using her enemy's momentum she threw the attacker off her back. But the blade of the man's sword caught the elf across the chest as the rider fell, opening a nasty gash through Belegorath's tunic. The deep crimson stain ran from her upper right shoulder to the side of her ribs on the left and the bite from the steel almost stole the elf's breath. Stepping on the man's throat she grabbed the would be assassins own twisted sword and buried it the mortals chest. The Dunidain felt a wave of nausea wash over her as she saw the second blow. The same pain she felt before as the arrow hit her left shoulder, slammed into her stomach. She didn't need to look down to work out what had happened. She felt her body starting to convulse from the shock. She staggered backwards and felt herself fall, the ground connecting with the back of her head. Then there was darkness.
~*~