A/N: SORRY! It's all this evil computer's fault. It's evil, I tell you... EVIL!! *glares at computer and brandishes very large stick* Anyway, I had three chapters typed out and saved, and then... THEY GOT DELETED! Now I must retype them all again. *sigh* Oh well...
A/N: I know that Dorlas is a Tolkien name, but it's a really cool name. This Dorlas is different from the one in Sil though. This one is evil.
Chapter 12: Attack!
Amargwaith cursed silently to himself as his arrow plunged into the crowd. It had hit an Elf, but not it's intended target. Although, killing that Elf was almost as good as killing Galadriel. Triumph spread through the evil Elf as he watched Haldir's brother, the one who had laughed at him earlier, fall to the ground in a puddle of his own blood.
He quickly shot three more arrows, but to no avail. They hit nothing. The Elven guards who had held their ground while the rest fled drew their bows and pointed them in Amargwaith's direction. He doubted he had been seen, and that the Elves were just making an assumption based on where the arrows were coming from, but better to be safe than sorry. Swiftly, he slithered away from the turmoil and headed back to the lair he had left less than a week ago, that seemed like an eternity. If the cat was out of the bag now, there was no point in hiding his troops any longer. The sooner the attack came, the better.
The first Elf he came upon was ordered to fetch the second-in-command.
"H-hîr nîn, (my lord) you're back!" the startled Elf stammered.
"How very nice of you to notice," Amargwaith said, his voice leeched with dry sarcasm, then, with more threat, "Bring me to Dorlas. Now!"
Quickly, the Elf nodded, and led his leader to the Man's study. "Dorlas," Amargwaith said as soon as he caught sight oh him, "Are the troops ready?"
Dorlas looked up and smiled at Amargwaith. "Of course they are, my Lord. We'll have our revenge soon enough."
"Yes, we will," said Amargwaith, a bit absentmindedly, "Send the soldiers into Caras Galadon. Bring Galadriel to me, but if you happen to find two other Elves in that city, you may do to them what you wish. One is named Haldir. He has golden hair and blue eyes. His wife's name is Seregwen. Where one is, the other can't be too far behind. Don't waste your time on the others. Galadriel is first priority, afterwards, you and your men can have some fun."
"Yes, my Lord," Dorlas replied, and left the room.
Amargwaith sat in thought for a few minutes before retiring to his own study. Dorlas was starting to outlive his usefulness. It was the same with every mortal he had "rescued" in his 500 years of exile. Elves could not be trusted with the job as second-in-command. Humans were much easier to get rid of if they began to get in the way. They were only useful for about 50 years anyway. Besides, after Dorlas was finished, no other Human children would be needed. He would control Lothlorien after all. He smiled as he left the room, imagining all the different ways he could kill his second-in-command.
~~~~~~~
Dorlas stalked down the dank hallways. He scowled as he remembered that fateful day. The one day that had forced him to dedicate his entire life to ridding himself of Galadriel and all her kind. Little did he know, there was another part of the story that Amargwaith, his mentor since he was barely old enough to walk, was hiding from him.
~~~~~~~
About 40 years earlier, Dorlas had lived with his mother, father, brothers, and sister in a small Human village just on the boarder of Rohan. One day (he couldn't have been more than three years old), his entire life ended as he knew it. All he remembered was fire. It burned his home, his family, everything. He remembered crouching near the ashes of his charred village and weeping. He cried for everything he had lost. That was when he met Amargwaith. That was when the lies started.
Dorlas was told that it was Galadriel who had ordered his village burnt down; that she was one to be hated and scorned. Being just a child, he did not find any fault with the story, and it was told quite convincingly. Amargwaith had been telling it every 50 or so years for the past 450 years. So, Amargwaith took Dorlas in, like so many other children before him. Like all the others, he grew, nourished on hatred and told every day that his main goal in life was to avenge his family's death on Galadriel.
Now, a grown Man, Dorlas still believed it was Galadriel who had killed his family. It was what kept him going throughout the day. It's what fuelled him as he led his men toward the city of Caras Galadon, weapons brandished high, intent on one thing: death.
A/N: If any of you have read Terry Brooks' "Voyage of the Jerle Shannara" series, you'll see the similarities between those books and this fic. I'm sorry for that, but I'm really starting to get hooked on Terry Brooks' work.
A/N: Sorry for lack of updates again. The first copy of this chapter was much better, but I can't remember it all off by heart. Stupid computer... Anyway, please R/R. It's not my greatest work, but I shall persevere onto the next chapter. Namaarie for now-
~~Elendil
A/N: I know that Dorlas is a Tolkien name, but it's a really cool name. This Dorlas is different from the one in Sil though. This one is evil.
Chapter 12: Attack!
Amargwaith cursed silently to himself as his arrow plunged into the crowd. It had hit an Elf, but not it's intended target. Although, killing that Elf was almost as good as killing Galadriel. Triumph spread through the evil Elf as he watched Haldir's brother, the one who had laughed at him earlier, fall to the ground in a puddle of his own blood.
He quickly shot three more arrows, but to no avail. They hit nothing. The Elven guards who had held their ground while the rest fled drew their bows and pointed them in Amargwaith's direction. He doubted he had been seen, and that the Elves were just making an assumption based on where the arrows were coming from, but better to be safe than sorry. Swiftly, he slithered away from the turmoil and headed back to the lair he had left less than a week ago, that seemed like an eternity. If the cat was out of the bag now, there was no point in hiding his troops any longer. The sooner the attack came, the better.
The first Elf he came upon was ordered to fetch the second-in-command.
"H-hîr nîn, (my lord) you're back!" the startled Elf stammered.
"How very nice of you to notice," Amargwaith said, his voice leeched with dry sarcasm, then, with more threat, "Bring me to Dorlas. Now!"
Quickly, the Elf nodded, and led his leader to the Man's study. "Dorlas," Amargwaith said as soon as he caught sight oh him, "Are the troops ready?"
Dorlas looked up and smiled at Amargwaith. "Of course they are, my Lord. We'll have our revenge soon enough."
"Yes, we will," said Amargwaith, a bit absentmindedly, "Send the soldiers into Caras Galadon. Bring Galadriel to me, but if you happen to find two other Elves in that city, you may do to them what you wish. One is named Haldir. He has golden hair and blue eyes. His wife's name is Seregwen. Where one is, the other can't be too far behind. Don't waste your time on the others. Galadriel is first priority, afterwards, you and your men can have some fun."
"Yes, my Lord," Dorlas replied, and left the room.
Amargwaith sat in thought for a few minutes before retiring to his own study. Dorlas was starting to outlive his usefulness. It was the same with every mortal he had "rescued" in his 500 years of exile. Elves could not be trusted with the job as second-in-command. Humans were much easier to get rid of if they began to get in the way. They were only useful for about 50 years anyway. Besides, after Dorlas was finished, no other Human children would be needed. He would control Lothlorien after all. He smiled as he left the room, imagining all the different ways he could kill his second-in-command.
~~~~~~~
Dorlas stalked down the dank hallways. He scowled as he remembered that fateful day. The one day that had forced him to dedicate his entire life to ridding himself of Galadriel and all her kind. Little did he know, there was another part of the story that Amargwaith, his mentor since he was barely old enough to walk, was hiding from him.
~~~~~~~
About 40 years earlier, Dorlas had lived with his mother, father, brothers, and sister in a small Human village just on the boarder of Rohan. One day (he couldn't have been more than three years old), his entire life ended as he knew it. All he remembered was fire. It burned his home, his family, everything. He remembered crouching near the ashes of his charred village and weeping. He cried for everything he had lost. That was when he met Amargwaith. That was when the lies started.
Dorlas was told that it was Galadriel who had ordered his village burnt down; that she was one to be hated and scorned. Being just a child, he did not find any fault with the story, and it was told quite convincingly. Amargwaith had been telling it every 50 or so years for the past 450 years. So, Amargwaith took Dorlas in, like so many other children before him. Like all the others, he grew, nourished on hatred and told every day that his main goal in life was to avenge his family's death on Galadriel.
Now, a grown Man, Dorlas still believed it was Galadriel who had killed his family. It was what kept him going throughout the day. It's what fuelled him as he led his men toward the city of Caras Galadon, weapons brandished high, intent on one thing: death.
A/N: If any of you have read Terry Brooks' "Voyage of the Jerle Shannara" series, you'll see the similarities between those books and this fic. I'm sorry for that, but I'm really starting to get hooked on Terry Brooks' work.
A/N: Sorry for lack of updates again. The first copy of this chapter was much better, but I can't remember it all off by heart. Stupid computer... Anyway, please R/R. It's not my greatest work, but I shall persevere onto the next chapter. Namaarie for now-
~~Elendil