Disclaimer: I do not own The Lord of the Rings. It belongs
to J.R.R. Tolkien.
Set It Off!
"You're going off to war?" she asked curiously, again pulling on an innocent tone and look.
"Yeah," answered a young man no older than seventeen as he slipped on a shirt of mail. "My king called, and I have to answer."
"It's actually really dangerous, y'know," said the young lady. "People get killed really easily."
"I know." He straightened his back and broadened his shoulders like a noble knight. "And I have to be brave to save you and the other women and children."
"That's nice of you."
"Naurglahad! Don't!"
The young man's face turned from his solemn stare to a petrified one as Naurglahad, the young lady, pinned him up against the wall with her left hand and threatened to punch him in the face with her right. Spotting the intruder, she released her captive and her fist with a wide grin. Dusting his shoulders off with the same maniacal smile, she curtseyed and pushed him off in the opposite direction with an apology.
"Young men," she said softly. "So vulnerable, aren't they?"
Eowyn did not looked convinced. "You were about to knock him out and take his armor, weren't you?"
"Well..." Naurglahad looked down at the ground and pawed at it with her left toes. "Maybe..."
"If you are going to play with the other boys, you play nicely."
"...Boys don't tag with girls." The assassin's tone lowered back into its usual hating, death tone.
"But the wild girls do," replied the Shield Maiden.
"So why can't I punch out people?"
"Because." Eowyn raised her eyebrows as if hinting toward a clue for Naurglahad to follow. She apparently caught the hint and shrunk into herself with an apologetic, mournful look in her eyes. "Good girl."
~*~
"You... never sit, do you?'
Legolas raised an eyebrow at the child that sat on the bench beside him. She was snacking on crackers as her spare hand made her way across the table to an abandoned, tin mug of beer. Gimli had gotten up for nature's call, so she had thought he wouldn't miss the liquor if she had a couple sips of it.
"No liquor for you," grunted Legolas, swiping the tankard out of her reach before she could even grasp the handle. "Who knows what chaos would ensue if a drunken sixteen year old was walking around."
Naurglahad frowned and slouched her shoulders. Well, at least Aragorn wasn't around anymore to back up the elf. "Yeah, he kinda' slid off a cliff and probably died a terrible, tragic death," thought Naurglahad. "Poor soul... he deserved it; he was just jealous because I was the only one who actually jumped off a horse and onto a warg. Those are fun to ride. Too bad I accidentally ran over several people... and fell off... and kinda' got dirt in my mouth...." Then, the doors of the keep swung open. "...Oh no. How could he?"
Aragorn was sweating and bleeding a hero's toil as he staggered majestically across the hall, easily hooking the admiring stares of the keep's inhabitants, particularly the young women... the shield maiden. He sauntered up to Legolas. The elf's eyes narrowed as he spoke something Elvish in a harsh tone to Aragorn. The Man blinked. The elf suddenly pulled a concerned expression. "You look terrible."
With a snort and a loud cry, Naurglahad burst into a fit of laughter. She giggled so hard, that her face went red and she toppled off the seat, landing on her arse on the stone floor. Even then, she fell onto her back with her legs trembling in the air. Aragorn gave a soft chuckle, but it was drowned by the sixteen year old's riotous laughter.
But with every beginning, there is an end, and the end of Naurglahad's laughter was sharper than the blade of Narsil.
"Not funny."
"Right."
~*~
"Just a quick peek won't hurt, will it?"
"Nauri! Don't! You'll get in so much trouble if he catches you!"
"And that's why he won't catch me."
"Yeah, like the time we weren't going to be caught when we were ambushing random people with water balloons?"
"That was two years ago."
"We hit the Prime Minister of Om... Om... Om--something!"
"If you can't pronounce a country name," said Naurglahad, tossing a rope down to one of her brothers, "then don't bother. If you can't stand the thought of being caught, then don't come. Got it?"
The boy, not a week over ten years old, frowned up at his sister as she abandoned him by the cornerstone of a long, dark gray stone wall, lined with iron thorns and chains. She stepped over and through these traps and jumped to the other side of the stone wall. "Chicken wuss," she muttered as she continued to creep through stalks of pale blue grass against the light of the evening sky, tainted with the usual red sun and blackened streams of smoke.
Truly in her lands, blood was not only spilled every night, but every day.
---
Push, push, three to the left, one to the right, pull, four down, seven up, pull, pull, push, push. That was the first lock. Now, for the second. Nine diagonal, two horizontal, tilt thrice to the left, thrice to the right, push again, then pull. Click. There.
Naurglahad cast the stone key piece to the floor and rushed into the darkened chamber. She lit only a few torches as she moved, careful not to make too much noise; this was her own secret mission; she could not be found. She still had no regrets of coming to this forbidden place as she lit the last torch and scrambled into the very last room at the very end of the hall. Vines had begun to take over the northern wall of the room, the bloody sun against the mist of the small jungle reflecting every particle of dead dust circumnavigating the air.
And there in the faded iris that remained constant among the dust, was a dais and a flat wheel, all made of wood.
Upon approaching the wheel, young Naurglahad found small numbers etched on the rim of the wheel, but where the axle should touch, there was a red mark, not much larger than her two thumbs put together. A flame. The air began to thicken as she dared to prod the mark with her right fingers.
The moment her skin felt the wood of the ring, she withdrew her hand and made a mad dash out of the room. Now she definitely knew she wasn't supposed to be here.
"I shouldn't have done that," she muttered to herself. "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't--ow!"
Naurglahad stumbled and fell back onto her posterior. She thought she had smashed into a wall. But looking up... she found that she was wrong.
"Hi... Dad..."
But by the look in Dad's face, he was obviously not happy to see his twelve-year-old child in the halls of the most classified building ever built within a five-thousand mile radius.
Set It Off!
"You're going off to war?" she asked curiously, again pulling on an innocent tone and look.
"Yeah," answered a young man no older than seventeen as he slipped on a shirt of mail. "My king called, and I have to answer."
"It's actually really dangerous, y'know," said the young lady. "People get killed really easily."
"I know." He straightened his back and broadened his shoulders like a noble knight. "And I have to be brave to save you and the other women and children."
"That's nice of you."
"Naurglahad! Don't!"
The young man's face turned from his solemn stare to a petrified one as Naurglahad, the young lady, pinned him up against the wall with her left hand and threatened to punch him in the face with her right. Spotting the intruder, she released her captive and her fist with a wide grin. Dusting his shoulders off with the same maniacal smile, she curtseyed and pushed him off in the opposite direction with an apology.
"Young men," she said softly. "So vulnerable, aren't they?"
Eowyn did not looked convinced. "You were about to knock him out and take his armor, weren't you?"
"Well..." Naurglahad looked down at the ground and pawed at it with her left toes. "Maybe..."
"If you are going to play with the other boys, you play nicely."
"...Boys don't tag with girls." The assassin's tone lowered back into its usual hating, death tone.
"But the wild girls do," replied the Shield Maiden.
"So why can't I punch out people?"
"Because." Eowyn raised her eyebrows as if hinting toward a clue for Naurglahad to follow. She apparently caught the hint and shrunk into herself with an apologetic, mournful look in her eyes. "Good girl."
~*~
"You... never sit, do you?'
Legolas raised an eyebrow at the child that sat on the bench beside him. She was snacking on crackers as her spare hand made her way across the table to an abandoned, tin mug of beer. Gimli had gotten up for nature's call, so she had thought he wouldn't miss the liquor if she had a couple sips of it.
"No liquor for you," grunted Legolas, swiping the tankard out of her reach before she could even grasp the handle. "Who knows what chaos would ensue if a drunken sixteen year old was walking around."
Naurglahad frowned and slouched her shoulders. Well, at least Aragorn wasn't around anymore to back up the elf. "Yeah, he kinda' slid off a cliff and probably died a terrible, tragic death," thought Naurglahad. "Poor soul... he deserved it; he was just jealous because I was the only one who actually jumped off a horse and onto a warg. Those are fun to ride. Too bad I accidentally ran over several people... and fell off... and kinda' got dirt in my mouth...." Then, the doors of the keep swung open. "...Oh no. How could he?"
Aragorn was sweating and bleeding a hero's toil as he staggered majestically across the hall, easily hooking the admiring stares of the keep's inhabitants, particularly the young women... the shield maiden. He sauntered up to Legolas. The elf's eyes narrowed as he spoke something Elvish in a harsh tone to Aragorn. The Man blinked. The elf suddenly pulled a concerned expression. "You look terrible."
With a snort and a loud cry, Naurglahad burst into a fit of laughter. She giggled so hard, that her face went red and she toppled off the seat, landing on her arse on the stone floor. Even then, she fell onto her back with her legs trembling in the air. Aragorn gave a soft chuckle, but it was drowned by the sixteen year old's riotous laughter.
But with every beginning, there is an end, and the end of Naurglahad's laughter was sharper than the blade of Narsil.
"Not funny."
"Right."
~*~
"Just a quick peek won't hurt, will it?"
"Nauri! Don't! You'll get in so much trouble if he catches you!"
"And that's why he won't catch me."
"Yeah, like the time we weren't going to be caught when we were ambushing random people with water balloons?"
"That was two years ago."
"We hit the Prime Minister of Om... Om... Om--something!"
"If you can't pronounce a country name," said Naurglahad, tossing a rope down to one of her brothers, "then don't bother. If you can't stand the thought of being caught, then don't come. Got it?"
The boy, not a week over ten years old, frowned up at his sister as she abandoned him by the cornerstone of a long, dark gray stone wall, lined with iron thorns and chains. She stepped over and through these traps and jumped to the other side of the stone wall. "Chicken wuss," she muttered as she continued to creep through stalks of pale blue grass against the light of the evening sky, tainted with the usual red sun and blackened streams of smoke.
Truly in her lands, blood was not only spilled every night, but every day.
---
Push, push, three to the left, one to the right, pull, four down, seven up, pull, pull, push, push. That was the first lock. Now, for the second. Nine diagonal, two horizontal, tilt thrice to the left, thrice to the right, push again, then pull. Click. There.
Naurglahad cast the stone key piece to the floor and rushed into the darkened chamber. She lit only a few torches as she moved, careful not to make too much noise; this was her own secret mission; she could not be found. She still had no regrets of coming to this forbidden place as she lit the last torch and scrambled into the very last room at the very end of the hall. Vines had begun to take over the northern wall of the room, the bloody sun against the mist of the small jungle reflecting every particle of dead dust circumnavigating the air.
And there in the faded iris that remained constant among the dust, was a dais and a flat wheel, all made of wood.
Upon approaching the wheel, young Naurglahad found small numbers etched on the rim of the wheel, but where the axle should touch, there was a red mark, not much larger than her two thumbs put together. A flame. The air began to thicken as she dared to prod the mark with her right fingers.
The moment her skin felt the wood of the ring, she withdrew her hand and made a mad dash out of the room. Now she definitely knew she wasn't supposed to be here.
"I shouldn't have done that," she muttered to herself. "I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't have done that. I shouldn't--ow!"
Naurglahad stumbled and fell back onto her posterior. She thought she had smashed into a wall. But looking up... she found that she was wrong.
"Hi... Dad..."
But by the look in Dad's face, he was obviously not happy to see his twelve-year-old child in the halls of the most classified building ever built within a five-thousand mile radius.