Shape Shifter
A/N: Before I start, I just have a quick announcement. I have received a review that degrades my work. I have asked before, and I'm going to ask again NO FLAMES PLEASE. If you have some criticism for me, that's OK, I can handle that, but some suggestions for improvement would be appreciated instead of pointing out everything I got wrong. You have been warned.
OK, finally, I can start writing.
Chapter 3: A Change of Plans
"What are you here for, Haldir?" Galadriel asked as she closed the door behind Amargwaith, "You barely ever come on social calls anymore."
"I thought I would suprise you, hiril nin," (Translation: my lady) Amargwaith replied, making his way to the fireplace and fingering the poker leaning against the wall next to it. "It has been such a long time since I've spent any time with you at all."
"You're right, it has," Galadriel said, busying herself at a table. "Are you hungry, Haldir? Thirst-" The Lady of Lothlorien was cut off when she looked into her friend's eyes. They weren't his. These eyes were cold, and full of anger, deciet, and a lust for blood. "Who are you?" she breathed.
"Why, Galadriel," Amargwaith said, while advancing toward her with the poker in his hands, "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." With a single blow to the head, Galadriel fell before him on the floor. "You're making this far too easy, hiril nin," Amargwaith whispered to the unconcious body before him on the floor, "But if that's the way you want it, so be it." He bent down and placed two fingers on Galadriel's neck. There was still a pulse, but it was very weak. Good. The subject needed to be alive if a shift was going to take place.
Amargwaith was just about to change forms, when the doorknob turned. The Elf froze, and stared at the doorway, still leaning over Galadriel's body. Lord Celeborn walked into the room, but stopped in mid-step when he saw the scene before him. "Haldir," he asked in muted suprise, "What are you doing?"
This had not been in the plan at all. It was time for a quick coverup. Amargwaith put on what he hoped was a distressed look and said, "I don't know what happened! I came to report to the Lady, and she was lying here on the floor!"
"Quick!" Celeborn commanded, "Get someone in here, now!" Amargwaith hurried out of the room. He considered leaving, but no; he had to act the part thoroughly. He hurried down to the infirmary and told them what happened. Minutes later, Galadriel was lying on a bed in the large room being treated by several attendants.
"She was hit over the head with something." they reported, "We can't tell what, but this was no accident."
Amargwaith stayed in the infirmary until a familiar-looking she-Elf entered the halls. She had long brown hair and delicate features. His eyes narrowed for a brief moment when he recognized her as Seregwen, the one who had sold him out over 5oo years ago.
Seregwen walked up to Amargwaith and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We should go now," she said to him. "There is nothing more you can do here." She took his hand and led him away.
So, this is what she did, the little wench, Amargwaith thought. She got rid of me, so she moves on to someone else. This was too perfect. This Elf's body he was inhabiting, Haldir was his name, or something like that, was seemingly married to one of the people he most wanted to get revenge on. Amargwaith knew he couldn't keep up the charade forever, but one more couldn't hurt. Once the damage is done, he can just find a new body. The only question was: Who's?
A/N: I'm sorry, this chapter is really crappy. I'm just running out of ideas. I'm thinking about scrapping the whole thing and moving on to something else. What do you think? Don't be afraid to review.
A/N: Before I start, I just have a quick announcement. I have received a review that degrades my work. I have asked before, and I'm going to ask again NO FLAMES PLEASE. If you have some criticism for me, that's OK, I can handle that, but some suggestions for improvement would be appreciated instead of pointing out everything I got wrong. You have been warned.
OK, finally, I can start writing.
Chapter 3: A Change of Plans
"What are you here for, Haldir?" Galadriel asked as she closed the door behind Amargwaith, "You barely ever come on social calls anymore."
"I thought I would suprise you, hiril nin," (Translation: my lady) Amargwaith replied, making his way to the fireplace and fingering the poker leaning against the wall next to it. "It has been such a long time since I've spent any time with you at all."
"You're right, it has," Galadriel said, busying herself at a table. "Are you hungry, Haldir? Thirst-" The Lady of Lothlorien was cut off when she looked into her friend's eyes. They weren't his. These eyes were cold, and full of anger, deciet, and a lust for blood. "Who are you?" she breathed.
"Why, Galadriel," Amargwaith said, while advancing toward her with the poker in his hands, "I'm sure I have no idea what you're talking about." With a single blow to the head, Galadriel fell before him on the floor. "You're making this far too easy, hiril nin," Amargwaith whispered to the unconcious body before him on the floor, "But if that's the way you want it, so be it." He bent down and placed two fingers on Galadriel's neck. There was still a pulse, but it was very weak. Good. The subject needed to be alive if a shift was going to take place.
Amargwaith was just about to change forms, when the doorknob turned. The Elf froze, and stared at the doorway, still leaning over Galadriel's body. Lord Celeborn walked into the room, but stopped in mid-step when he saw the scene before him. "Haldir," he asked in muted suprise, "What are you doing?"
This had not been in the plan at all. It was time for a quick coverup. Amargwaith put on what he hoped was a distressed look and said, "I don't know what happened! I came to report to the Lady, and she was lying here on the floor!"
"Quick!" Celeborn commanded, "Get someone in here, now!" Amargwaith hurried out of the room. He considered leaving, but no; he had to act the part thoroughly. He hurried down to the infirmary and told them what happened. Minutes later, Galadriel was lying on a bed in the large room being treated by several attendants.
"She was hit over the head with something." they reported, "We can't tell what, but this was no accident."
Amargwaith stayed in the infirmary until a familiar-looking she-Elf entered the halls. She had long brown hair and delicate features. His eyes narrowed for a brief moment when he recognized her as Seregwen, the one who had sold him out over 5oo years ago.
Seregwen walked up to Amargwaith and placed a hand on his shoulder. "We should go now," she said to him. "There is nothing more you can do here." She took his hand and led him away.
So, this is what she did, the little wench, Amargwaith thought. She got rid of me, so she moves on to someone else. This was too perfect. This Elf's body he was inhabiting, Haldir was his name, or something like that, was seemingly married to one of the people he most wanted to get revenge on. Amargwaith knew he couldn't keep up the charade forever, but one more couldn't hurt. Once the damage is done, he can just find a new body. The only question was: Who's?
A/N: I'm sorry, this chapter is really crappy. I'm just running out of ideas. I'm thinking about scrapping the whole thing and moving on to something else. What do you think? Don't be afraid to review.