Chapter 12: She attacks
Sauda had a vicious smile on her face. Before her in the distance, embedded in the green plains of Gondor, she could make out the schemes of Minas- Tirith and behind it the majestic White Mountains, which made the humane city appear like a tiny hill that had enviously created in a desperate and grotesque, though nevertheless failed attempt to reach the unreachable. It was early in the morning and the sun was hitting the tiny droplets of dew that were glistening like gems on the blades of grass. Mist was floating around the Minas-Tirith, covering the White Tower entirely.
She had finally reached her destination. Sauda jumped off her horse and dimly noticed the crusted blood, to be precisely Orc blood, which was still sticking to the hem of her cloak, leaving rusty stains on the soft fabric. At the thought of her recent encounter with the leftovers of Sauron's army, delightful laughter, that was as bright as a silvery bell, rang from her mouth. Her pearly white teeth sparkled when she smiled, bestowing her appearance a feral touch.
She would soon attack and more blood would be spilled, it would wash over her body like rain, cleansing her soul and lightening her dark heart. Then she would be free of the hatred, free of the venom that had poisoned her soul. It would be a rebirth, after which she would rise like a phoenix from the flames. Gandalf would finally pay for the pain he caused her, for every minute and every fraction of a second he had let her suffer.
It had been so many years ago, when they both had still been young. She remembered him as a young man. Now he would be aged and ugly wrinkles would be marring his face, while she was still as radiant and beautiful as ever. She briefly wondered why anybody would prefer the incommodities of old age to the strength of a youthful body, but then again the wizard had never been sensible at all.
They both were immortal; they drew their strength from their magical powers. Time didn't matter to them, but Gandalf had always cared more for the fate of Middle-Earth and his frail inhabitants than for his own. So he had lowered himself to their level, taught them and had even learned from them, which was an unacceptable obscenity in her eyes. To her those humans were only vermin that could be squished easily under your balled fist. They didn't know what power was and therefore walk to their sorry lives with out the hope to ever accomplish anything of significance; that a being almost as powerful as the Valar would want to waste its time with them was absolutely beyond her.
Sauda had long ago distanced herself from the frailty of humanity when she had found out that the only thing that really mattered was power. It cursed through her veins, powerful and forgiving, never scolding her when she used it to kill or for her personal gain. In short it was a livelong company that she loved dearly, most importantly of all it would never betray her and always stay with her. She felt it shoot through her system impatiently, causing her skin to tingly in anticipation. Exactly like her, it lusted for blood with an intensity that increased with each passing moment.
~
Arnaya felt unusually excited when she woke up this morning. Normally it took her several minutes to get out of bed, she had never been a morning person, but today she felt utterly refreshed and full of energy. She hummed a little song to herself while she went through her daily routine, today the water she used to wash herself was not cold, but vitalizing; the sun was not merely shining outside, it announced the coming of a beautiful day. Her feet were pitter pattering over the cool stone floor of her room in soundless busyness, while a beautiful smile grazed her features. Her head was filled with sweet daydreams and other enchanting visions, which swirled around one name in a beautiful vortex of colors.
She led out a soft laugh, amused about her own behavior. Arnaya knew that she was acting like an infatuated little girl and that it was probably foolish to allow those feelings to take control over her. As quickly as those grave musings had come, she chased them away. Today she couldn't dwell on serious thoughts for too long. She knew one thing with absolute clarity right then and there. She didn't need anymore time to make up her mind about her feelings, everything else was hazy, confusing and difficult to make out, but about this one thing she was absolutely sure. She loved him. Arnaya found herself wanting to take this leap of faith. Maybe it would crush her bones, maybe it would hurt her badly, but those were the risks she had to take.
Love is the most potent humane emotion; its complexity is so overwhelming that we feel the need to write thousands of silly songs and poems about it. What fascinates us about it? Maybe it's incomprehensibility, that makes all our attempts of defining it, including this one, absolutely superfluous, like Sisyphus we set our minds on this difficult task again and again just too fail repeatedly.
On one hand love is like a rush, it makes you fell incredible happiness, blinds you to apparent truths, on the other hand there is an almost vicious cruelty to it. It holds disappointment, not just the usual kind you casually shake off after a while, no, that kind of disappointment that leaves you gaping for air and is there to stay indefinitely. But most importantly of all love holds searing pain, which is an absolute imperative ingredient to this dangerous potion. When you are really in love you open your heart, bare your soul, there are no more secrets, nothing stays hidden anymore. We are at the mercy of the other person; the simplest words can be as sharp and fatal as daggers.
To be extremely happy, you also have to know incredible misery. Obviously this is the one secret frailty of humanity - its propensity for masochism, but then again why should we care, because love heals more wounds than it creates. It can turn tyrants into peace lovers, redeem even the most vicious person, not even its pain is destructive, not if we don't let it consume us; it leaves us with the desire to be a better person, too proof ourselves and the ones we love that we can better than we are. This unique emotion is one of the many mysteries lives hold and we would be foolish if we didn't explore it and lose ourselves in it completely.
Those and many other things were the thoughts that ran through Arnaya's head in that very moment and they caused her feet to carry her out of her room down endless corridors, towards the place where her heart begged her to go. While she ran she made countless plans of what she could say to him, how she could explain him that she was now ready for what they had denied themselves yesterday. By the time she reached his door she was breathless and her mind was completely blank.
She raised her hand to knock at the door; it hovered indecisively in the air for a few second, before she told herself not to be a coward and announce her presence. Time suddenly seemed to slow down and the moments she spent waiting for a response appeared to be an eternity. Arnaya looked down at her feet and a soft smile crept over her face, she had forgotten to put on her shoes. She looked at her bare, wiggling toes with strange fascination and was then startled by the sound of the opening door. Her head shot up and she felt excitement and nervousness wash over her body in gigantic waves.
The draft created by the opening door blew back Legolas's blond tresses and the morning sun that flooded his room formed a golden layer around the outlines of his body. His intense blue eyes widened in surprise when he saw who his visitor was and he briefly appeared to search for the right words to say, before he softly greeted her with the words, "Good morning, Arnaya." There was a special undertone to his voice when he pronounced her name; it always seemed to soften a little bit.
She gulped nervously; this would not be as easy as she had imagined it to be. "I...I came to...," no that was not at all what she had wanted to say, she started anew, "I wanted to.." With an angry huff she threw back her long hair, annoyed with herself for not getting out those words she had intended to say. Here she was - a few months ago her tongue had been sharp as a dagger and now she was having difficulties with the simplest of all sentences. She dimly remembered that she had once possessed something like confidence, to be precisely plenty of it, but that frail traitor had obviously decided to leave her when she needed it the most.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Legolas asked with a tint of concern in his voice.
"Yes," she said quizzically. An uncomfortable pause set in. Arnaya shook her head and she decided right then and there that words were of no use to her right now. She would never be able to tell him everything she wanted. All those perfect speeches she had planned out in her head were completely useless to her, as she couldn't even remember the smallest fragment of them.
She took a step forward and suddenly they were only inches apart. Her heart nervously beat inside her chest and the floor seemed to spin. She concentrated on his beautiful eyes that looked at her full of wonder, following her every move. They were calling her, tempting her to come closer and closer. Arnaya was under their spell and willingly obeyed their every wish.
Her forehead touched his and a tension built up between them that was almost unbearable. She closed her eyes and let her hands run through his hair, over his face, down his arms, where they finally found his hands and entwined with them, memorizing every detail of this moment, of him. Then their lips met in a brief very tender kiss that was as delicious as honey. Arnaya breathed in his scent, intoxicated by it like by heavy red wine. Her heavy eyelids fluttered open only to meet his eyes where she saw her own face reflected back at her. A soft smile was playing around his mouth, before he dipped down once again to kiss her. It was the kind of kiss you remember forever, because everything is completely and utterly perfect in this very moment. Their lips playfully touched and separated in a teasing game that left them both breathless and with the almost insatiable desire for more. He seemed to know exactly what she wanted, without needing to hear it from her. This discovery frightened her a little bit, but at the same time it inspired incredible joy inside of her.
Suddenly Arnaya's eyes widened in shock and she staggered a few steps back. Her hands were searching for support aimlessly, as if her vision was clouded. Legolas was immediately at her side holding her in his arms, to keep her from falling.
"What is it? Are you hurt? Arnaya? Arnaya!" he tried to get her attention by touching her on the cheek, but her gaze was still fixed on a point in the distance. Like rising mist the white of her eyes started to extend and cover her pupil and iris, swallowing them greedily. Legolas gasped in shock, not knowing what to do, the terror that something bad might happen to her lurking in the depths of his soul.
"Are you there?" she asked her voice sounded hesitant and very insecure.
"Yes, I am," he answered, thinking that she was talking to him.
"Stay away from here. They want to capture you and I won't be able to help you. Stay away, mother," Arnaya said and the last words that came from her lips almost sounded threatening. She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again, they had returned to their previous state.
Arnaya got up immediately though her legs were still shaky. When she spoke again her voice sounded grim and determined, "She is coming."
Sauda had a vicious smile on her face. Before her in the distance, embedded in the green plains of Gondor, she could make out the schemes of Minas- Tirith and behind it the majestic White Mountains, which made the humane city appear like a tiny hill that had enviously created in a desperate and grotesque, though nevertheless failed attempt to reach the unreachable. It was early in the morning and the sun was hitting the tiny droplets of dew that were glistening like gems on the blades of grass. Mist was floating around the Minas-Tirith, covering the White Tower entirely.
She had finally reached her destination. Sauda jumped off her horse and dimly noticed the crusted blood, to be precisely Orc blood, which was still sticking to the hem of her cloak, leaving rusty stains on the soft fabric. At the thought of her recent encounter with the leftovers of Sauron's army, delightful laughter, that was as bright as a silvery bell, rang from her mouth. Her pearly white teeth sparkled when she smiled, bestowing her appearance a feral touch.
She would soon attack and more blood would be spilled, it would wash over her body like rain, cleansing her soul and lightening her dark heart. Then she would be free of the hatred, free of the venom that had poisoned her soul. It would be a rebirth, after which she would rise like a phoenix from the flames. Gandalf would finally pay for the pain he caused her, for every minute and every fraction of a second he had let her suffer.
It had been so many years ago, when they both had still been young. She remembered him as a young man. Now he would be aged and ugly wrinkles would be marring his face, while she was still as radiant and beautiful as ever. She briefly wondered why anybody would prefer the incommodities of old age to the strength of a youthful body, but then again the wizard had never been sensible at all.
They both were immortal; they drew their strength from their magical powers. Time didn't matter to them, but Gandalf had always cared more for the fate of Middle-Earth and his frail inhabitants than for his own. So he had lowered himself to their level, taught them and had even learned from them, which was an unacceptable obscenity in her eyes. To her those humans were only vermin that could be squished easily under your balled fist. They didn't know what power was and therefore walk to their sorry lives with out the hope to ever accomplish anything of significance; that a being almost as powerful as the Valar would want to waste its time with them was absolutely beyond her.
Sauda had long ago distanced herself from the frailty of humanity when she had found out that the only thing that really mattered was power. It cursed through her veins, powerful and forgiving, never scolding her when she used it to kill or for her personal gain. In short it was a livelong company that she loved dearly, most importantly of all it would never betray her and always stay with her. She felt it shoot through her system impatiently, causing her skin to tingly in anticipation. Exactly like her, it lusted for blood with an intensity that increased with each passing moment.
~
Arnaya felt unusually excited when she woke up this morning. Normally it took her several minutes to get out of bed, she had never been a morning person, but today she felt utterly refreshed and full of energy. She hummed a little song to herself while she went through her daily routine, today the water she used to wash herself was not cold, but vitalizing; the sun was not merely shining outside, it announced the coming of a beautiful day. Her feet were pitter pattering over the cool stone floor of her room in soundless busyness, while a beautiful smile grazed her features. Her head was filled with sweet daydreams and other enchanting visions, which swirled around one name in a beautiful vortex of colors.
She led out a soft laugh, amused about her own behavior. Arnaya knew that she was acting like an infatuated little girl and that it was probably foolish to allow those feelings to take control over her. As quickly as those grave musings had come, she chased them away. Today she couldn't dwell on serious thoughts for too long. She knew one thing with absolute clarity right then and there. She didn't need anymore time to make up her mind about her feelings, everything else was hazy, confusing and difficult to make out, but about this one thing she was absolutely sure. She loved him. Arnaya found herself wanting to take this leap of faith. Maybe it would crush her bones, maybe it would hurt her badly, but those were the risks she had to take.
Love is the most potent humane emotion; its complexity is so overwhelming that we feel the need to write thousands of silly songs and poems about it. What fascinates us about it? Maybe it's incomprehensibility, that makes all our attempts of defining it, including this one, absolutely superfluous, like Sisyphus we set our minds on this difficult task again and again just too fail repeatedly.
On one hand love is like a rush, it makes you fell incredible happiness, blinds you to apparent truths, on the other hand there is an almost vicious cruelty to it. It holds disappointment, not just the usual kind you casually shake off after a while, no, that kind of disappointment that leaves you gaping for air and is there to stay indefinitely. But most importantly of all love holds searing pain, which is an absolute imperative ingredient to this dangerous potion. When you are really in love you open your heart, bare your soul, there are no more secrets, nothing stays hidden anymore. We are at the mercy of the other person; the simplest words can be as sharp and fatal as daggers.
To be extremely happy, you also have to know incredible misery. Obviously this is the one secret frailty of humanity - its propensity for masochism, but then again why should we care, because love heals more wounds than it creates. It can turn tyrants into peace lovers, redeem even the most vicious person, not even its pain is destructive, not if we don't let it consume us; it leaves us with the desire to be a better person, too proof ourselves and the ones we love that we can better than we are. This unique emotion is one of the many mysteries lives hold and we would be foolish if we didn't explore it and lose ourselves in it completely.
Those and many other things were the thoughts that ran through Arnaya's head in that very moment and they caused her feet to carry her out of her room down endless corridors, towards the place where her heart begged her to go. While she ran she made countless plans of what she could say to him, how she could explain him that she was now ready for what they had denied themselves yesterday. By the time she reached his door she was breathless and her mind was completely blank.
She raised her hand to knock at the door; it hovered indecisively in the air for a few second, before she told herself not to be a coward and announce her presence. Time suddenly seemed to slow down and the moments she spent waiting for a response appeared to be an eternity. Arnaya looked down at her feet and a soft smile crept over her face, she had forgotten to put on her shoes. She looked at her bare, wiggling toes with strange fascination and was then startled by the sound of the opening door. Her head shot up and she felt excitement and nervousness wash over her body in gigantic waves.
The draft created by the opening door blew back Legolas's blond tresses and the morning sun that flooded his room formed a golden layer around the outlines of his body. His intense blue eyes widened in surprise when he saw who his visitor was and he briefly appeared to search for the right words to say, before he softly greeted her with the words, "Good morning, Arnaya." There was a special undertone to his voice when he pronounced her name; it always seemed to soften a little bit.
She gulped nervously; this would not be as easy as she had imagined it to be. "I...I came to...," no that was not at all what she had wanted to say, she started anew, "I wanted to.." With an angry huff she threw back her long hair, annoyed with herself for not getting out those words she had intended to say. Here she was - a few months ago her tongue had been sharp as a dagger and now she was having difficulties with the simplest of all sentences. She dimly remembered that she had once possessed something like confidence, to be precisely plenty of it, but that frail traitor had obviously decided to leave her when she needed it the most.
"Is there anything I can do for you?" Legolas asked with a tint of concern in his voice.
"Yes," she said quizzically. An uncomfortable pause set in. Arnaya shook her head and she decided right then and there that words were of no use to her right now. She would never be able to tell him everything she wanted. All those perfect speeches she had planned out in her head were completely useless to her, as she couldn't even remember the smallest fragment of them.
She took a step forward and suddenly they were only inches apart. Her heart nervously beat inside her chest and the floor seemed to spin. She concentrated on his beautiful eyes that looked at her full of wonder, following her every move. They were calling her, tempting her to come closer and closer. Arnaya was under their spell and willingly obeyed their every wish.
Her forehead touched his and a tension built up between them that was almost unbearable. She closed her eyes and let her hands run through his hair, over his face, down his arms, where they finally found his hands and entwined with them, memorizing every detail of this moment, of him. Then their lips met in a brief very tender kiss that was as delicious as honey. Arnaya breathed in his scent, intoxicated by it like by heavy red wine. Her heavy eyelids fluttered open only to meet his eyes where she saw her own face reflected back at her. A soft smile was playing around his mouth, before he dipped down once again to kiss her. It was the kind of kiss you remember forever, because everything is completely and utterly perfect in this very moment. Their lips playfully touched and separated in a teasing game that left them both breathless and with the almost insatiable desire for more. He seemed to know exactly what she wanted, without needing to hear it from her. This discovery frightened her a little bit, but at the same time it inspired incredible joy inside of her.
Suddenly Arnaya's eyes widened in shock and she staggered a few steps back. Her hands were searching for support aimlessly, as if her vision was clouded. Legolas was immediately at her side holding her in his arms, to keep her from falling.
"What is it? Are you hurt? Arnaya? Arnaya!" he tried to get her attention by touching her on the cheek, but her gaze was still fixed on a point in the distance. Like rising mist the white of her eyes started to extend and cover her pupil and iris, swallowing them greedily. Legolas gasped in shock, not knowing what to do, the terror that something bad might happen to her lurking in the depths of his soul.
"Are you there?" she asked her voice sounded hesitant and very insecure.
"Yes, I am," he answered, thinking that she was talking to him.
"Stay away from here. They want to capture you and I won't be able to help you. Stay away, mother," Arnaya said and the last words that came from her lips almost sounded threatening. She closed her eyes briefly and when she opened them again, they had returned to their previous state.
Arnaya got up immediately though her legs were still shaky. When she spoke again her voice sounded grim and determined, "She is coming."