Shape Shifter
Chapter 2: A Strange Talent
Arin, Amargwaith thought disdainfully, a sickening name. The one he had been exiled under. The Elf let loose a small smirk. He still had the upper hand. He had something he had been sure not to tell anyone, and now was the time that his talent came into play.
Amargwaith stood up and made his way to the entrance of his underground realm, which was carefully concealed amidst the tall grasses and bushes. He got there just in time to see his soldiers drag in a blonde Elven guard with piercing blue eyes.
"Were you seen?" Amargwaith asked sharply.
"No, my Lord," said the leader of the small band of Elves.
"Good," Amargwaith smiled once again, "Take him into my study, and tie him up." He gestured towards the prisoner Elf.
The warriors nodded and headed towards the room, Amargwaith following silently behind.
The elf was disarmed and bound securely to a chair in the centre of the study. The soldiers left the room at an order form Amargwaith, leaving the two alone. "How old are you, Elf?"
"I don't see that as any of your business." The response was cool, calm, and collected.
"It's a simple question, I erxpect you to answer it!" A dagger was pointed at the prisoner's throat.
"Fine, I am 1100 years old, if you must know."
"Do you remember a time, about 500 years ago, when a young Elf was convicted of murder?"
"Yes, but-" the captive's eyes grew wide, "Arin?"
"I do not go by that name anymore, but it was I."
"We all thought you'd be dead by now?"
"Me? No, I'm very... resourceful, you might say." Amargwaith plucked a single strand of hair from the Elf's temple, chuckling slightly as his captive winced in pain. The hair was then placed on a table in front of the tied-up Elf. Amargwaith concentrated soley on the strand of hair, and with a blinding flash of light, became an exact replica of blonde Elf bound in the chair. He summoned his soldiers back into the room.
"I'm traveling into the forest," he said, arming himself with the prisoner's weapons," Do not follow me until I come back and order you in, and that won't be for a few days at the least."
"What shall we do with this one, my lord?" one of the warriors asked.
"Kill him," Amargwaith said over his shoulder as he left the room. He waited until the blood-curdling screams that filled the halls had stopped before he opened the door and stepped into the outside world for the first time in 300 years.
Amargwaith blinked in the sunshine, but only for a few seconds. These eyes were used to the bright sunlight of the outside world. His soldiers had done a very good job. This body was strong and robust; perfect for the task he had in mind.
500 years wasn't such a long time after all, he thought. Amargwaith could still remember every path, every tree in the forest; but most importantly, he could still remember the way to the Lady Galadriel's chamber. He stopped in front of the door, took a deep breath, and knocked. A minute later, the Lady of the Wood opened the door and her face brightened.
"Haldir!" she beamed, "Do come in!"
~~~~~~~
Years passed after his exile. Arin wandered the countryside, surviving by his wits and skill with a knife and bow. He changed his name to Amargwaith, the shadow of darkness, and forsook the kin that banished him. Soon, he found that he was not alone. The Moriquendi, the dark Elves, lived in the forests not inhabited by other Elves. Very soon, Amargwaith had them under his control, helping him work towards his ultimate goal: revenge on Lothlorien.
Chapter 2: A Strange Talent
Arin, Amargwaith thought disdainfully, a sickening name. The one he had been exiled under. The Elf let loose a small smirk. He still had the upper hand. He had something he had been sure not to tell anyone, and now was the time that his talent came into play.
Amargwaith stood up and made his way to the entrance of his underground realm, which was carefully concealed amidst the tall grasses and bushes. He got there just in time to see his soldiers drag in a blonde Elven guard with piercing blue eyes.
"Were you seen?" Amargwaith asked sharply.
"No, my Lord," said the leader of the small band of Elves.
"Good," Amargwaith smiled once again, "Take him into my study, and tie him up." He gestured towards the prisoner Elf.
The warriors nodded and headed towards the room, Amargwaith following silently behind.
The elf was disarmed and bound securely to a chair in the centre of the study. The soldiers left the room at an order form Amargwaith, leaving the two alone. "How old are you, Elf?"
"I don't see that as any of your business." The response was cool, calm, and collected.
"It's a simple question, I erxpect you to answer it!" A dagger was pointed at the prisoner's throat.
"Fine, I am 1100 years old, if you must know."
"Do you remember a time, about 500 years ago, when a young Elf was convicted of murder?"
"Yes, but-" the captive's eyes grew wide, "Arin?"
"I do not go by that name anymore, but it was I."
"We all thought you'd be dead by now?"
"Me? No, I'm very... resourceful, you might say." Amargwaith plucked a single strand of hair from the Elf's temple, chuckling slightly as his captive winced in pain. The hair was then placed on a table in front of the tied-up Elf. Amargwaith concentrated soley on the strand of hair, and with a blinding flash of light, became an exact replica of blonde Elf bound in the chair. He summoned his soldiers back into the room.
"I'm traveling into the forest," he said, arming himself with the prisoner's weapons," Do not follow me until I come back and order you in, and that won't be for a few days at the least."
"What shall we do with this one, my lord?" one of the warriors asked.
"Kill him," Amargwaith said over his shoulder as he left the room. He waited until the blood-curdling screams that filled the halls had stopped before he opened the door and stepped into the outside world for the first time in 300 years.
Amargwaith blinked in the sunshine, but only for a few seconds. These eyes were used to the bright sunlight of the outside world. His soldiers had done a very good job. This body was strong and robust; perfect for the task he had in mind.
500 years wasn't such a long time after all, he thought. Amargwaith could still remember every path, every tree in the forest; but most importantly, he could still remember the way to the Lady Galadriel's chamber. He stopped in front of the door, took a deep breath, and knocked. A minute later, the Lady of the Wood opened the door and her face brightened.
"Haldir!" she beamed, "Do come in!"
~~~~~~~
Years passed after his exile. Arin wandered the countryside, surviving by his wits and skill with a knife and bow. He changed his name to Amargwaith, the shadow of darkness, and forsook the kin that banished him. Soon, he found that he was not alone. The Moriquendi, the dark Elves, lived in the forests not inhabited by other Elves. Very soon, Amargwaith had them under his control, helping him work towards his ultimate goal: revenge on Lothlorien.