New fic! Yay! Rotk Rotk Rotk Rotk!!! Yes!!! Only 12 MORE DAYS!!!!!!
Anyways, if you didn't read my previous fic, Hithiel's means 'misty
maiden.' I haven't decided if I was going to put Ambaril in it or not yet.
Artamir means 'noble jewel' even though she is far from noble. As for the
jewel part, I'll let you decide on that after you read.
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, get that into your head already so I don't have to type it again and again ever single time!!
Bittersweet Revenge
Lessons Must Be Learned
Hithiel, the beautiful She-Elf kneeled reluctantly on the cold stone floor of the room. She bowed her proud head before her mother who wore a golden mask on her face. It was carved especially to fit her. Almost no one ever saw her real face. No one but Hithiel. She kneeled before her mother and presented her a whip. This routine was done often. She knew it was useless to resist. Her mother, Artamir, took it without a word. Artamir raised her hand holding the whip and experimentally flicked it towards a porcelain vase. The vase immediately broke, the shattered pieces falling onto the cold floor with a loud clang that echoed throughout the silent room.
Hithiel flinched involuntarily at the sound. She hated this room and everything about it. Her gaze rested on a wooden device and shuddered. Her dull green eyes returned to her mother who nodded pointedly at it. She got up and walked slowly towards it. She kneeled down again with her back facing her mother and rested her arms in two holes in the device. Her mother went to it and slammed a bar hard on her arm so that she couldn't move at all. Hithiel bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain. Artamir disappeared from her view and Hithiel closed her eyes knowing what will follow.
Sure enough, the whip sailed through the air and landed on her back with a loud crack. She felt pain shoot throughout her back and the fabric of her tunic rip under the blow. Old wounds bled afresh and a new slash appeared on her back. She grunted in pain knowing more would follow if she showed any signs of weakness. Another crack of the whip broke the silence and pain flared up again. Her mother finally spoke in a rough voice unlike any other Elves. "You know why you're here."
"Yes," said Hithiel biting her lip in pain.
"What is the only reason you live?" Artamir growled.
"Revenge," she whispered. 'We've been through this so many times,' thought Hithiel as another blow hit her marking her back with bloody X's. 'Just please let the pain stop!'
"I can't HEAR you!"
"Revenge!" she said louder.
"On who?" barked Artamir as she dealt another cruel blow to her daughter.
"Thranduil."
"Who?!" Another crack.
"Thranduil!" Hithiel bit back a sob as another rain of lashes fell on her back that now streamed with her rich blood.
"WHO?!" Crack.
"Thranduil! Thranduil! Thranduil! Thranduil!" cried Hithiel not able to bear the pain any longer.
Artamir removed her mask now and tossed it aside. Her face was nothing less than gruesome. Blisters and boils covered every inch of it. The skin was red and raw. Fire had eaten up almost all her face. Her eyes were black with anger and she lived solely on the thought of revenge of the person who did this to her: Thranduil. She trained her daughter to avenge her but so far she had failed.
"Who is your master?" she growled eyes flashing in anger.
"You, mother," whispered Hithiel.
A pause and another rain of lashes and pain. "Who did this to me? Why do I have to wear a mask for the rest of my life?"
"Thranduil did this to you," gritted Hithiel. Her clear melodious voice was filled with pain. "He tried to kill you by burning."
Crack. "What is your only purpose in life?" Another crack.
Hithiel was almost fainting with the pain. Blood now ran steadily down the floor of the room. "To kill Thranduil," she managed to get out.
"Why have you failed me?"
"I'm sorry, mother," she choked out as the whip fell on her shoulders. "It will not happen again." Her mother was relentless.
"I should kill you right now," she hissed. Her dark eyes were in slits of anger. She merciless beat her daughter marking her delicate back with crosses. The end of the whip was bloody but she didn't care and continued to beat her.
Hithiel swallowed hard. 'I would embrace death right now,' she thought. 'Just please let the pain stop.' She forced out, "It is my fault that I failed and I claim full responsibility for it. I will accept my fate." She closed her eyes, her dark lashes falling on her high cheekbones. Her dark raven locks fell on tangles all around her angelic face that was now contorted with pain. 'Just let it end... Let it all end...'
Her mother continued to beat her with all her strength. "You've failed me again, Hithiel! I do not accept failure! Failure means death but death is too good for you!"
Hithiel felt the lash hitting her but she no longer cared. The desire to live was well gone and even the pain seemed to be getting duller. She knew not for how long she kneeled there before she collapsed on top of the wooden platform. Her limp for hung over the bar that held her wrist and her breathing was shallow.
Her mother glared at her shocked. Then a grin curved up her deformed lips and she laughed. She hit the unconscious form a few more times before walking up to it and examining the wounds. She took out a clear crystal bottle from the folds of her robe and poured its contents over her back where it hissed as it went into her body. 'No matter how much you want to die, you won't be able to. You WILL kill Thranduil even if you die in the process. Now is not your time yet.'
Well? What do you think? My second fic improving? Reviews anyone? Reviews? I want a couple review before I continue this. Return of the King is coming!!!! Just 12 more days!!! WHOO!!!!
Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, get that into your head already so I don't have to type it again and again ever single time!!
Bittersweet Revenge
Lessons Must Be Learned
Hithiel, the beautiful She-Elf kneeled reluctantly on the cold stone floor of the room. She bowed her proud head before her mother who wore a golden mask on her face. It was carved especially to fit her. Almost no one ever saw her real face. No one but Hithiel. She kneeled before her mother and presented her a whip. This routine was done often. She knew it was useless to resist. Her mother, Artamir, took it without a word. Artamir raised her hand holding the whip and experimentally flicked it towards a porcelain vase. The vase immediately broke, the shattered pieces falling onto the cold floor with a loud clang that echoed throughout the silent room.
Hithiel flinched involuntarily at the sound. She hated this room and everything about it. Her gaze rested on a wooden device and shuddered. Her dull green eyes returned to her mother who nodded pointedly at it. She got up and walked slowly towards it. She kneeled down again with her back facing her mother and rested her arms in two holes in the device. Her mother went to it and slammed a bar hard on her arm so that she couldn't move at all. Hithiel bit her lip to keep from crying out in pain. Artamir disappeared from her view and Hithiel closed her eyes knowing what will follow.
Sure enough, the whip sailed through the air and landed on her back with a loud crack. She felt pain shoot throughout her back and the fabric of her tunic rip under the blow. Old wounds bled afresh and a new slash appeared on her back. She grunted in pain knowing more would follow if she showed any signs of weakness. Another crack of the whip broke the silence and pain flared up again. Her mother finally spoke in a rough voice unlike any other Elves. "You know why you're here."
"Yes," said Hithiel biting her lip in pain.
"What is the only reason you live?" Artamir growled.
"Revenge," she whispered. 'We've been through this so many times,' thought Hithiel as another blow hit her marking her back with bloody X's. 'Just please let the pain stop!'
"I can't HEAR you!"
"Revenge!" she said louder.
"On who?" barked Artamir as she dealt another cruel blow to her daughter.
"Thranduil."
"Who?!" Another crack.
"Thranduil!" Hithiel bit back a sob as another rain of lashes fell on her back that now streamed with her rich blood.
"WHO?!" Crack.
"Thranduil! Thranduil! Thranduil! Thranduil!" cried Hithiel not able to bear the pain any longer.
Artamir removed her mask now and tossed it aside. Her face was nothing less than gruesome. Blisters and boils covered every inch of it. The skin was red and raw. Fire had eaten up almost all her face. Her eyes were black with anger and she lived solely on the thought of revenge of the person who did this to her: Thranduil. She trained her daughter to avenge her but so far she had failed.
"Who is your master?" she growled eyes flashing in anger.
"You, mother," whispered Hithiel.
A pause and another rain of lashes and pain. "Who did this to me? Why do I have to wear a mask for the rest of my life?"
"Thranduil did this to you," gritted Hithiel. Her clear melodious voice was filled with pain. "He tried to kill you by burning."
Crack. "What is your only purpose in life?" Another crack.
Hithiel was almost fainting with the pain. Blood now ran steadily down the floor of the room. "To kill Thranduil," she managed to get out.
"Why have you failed me?"
"I'm sorry, mother," she choked out as the whip fell on her shoulders. "It will not happen again." Her mother was relentless.
"I should kill you right now," she hissed. Her dark eyes were in slits of anger. She merciless beat her daughter marking her delicate back with crosses. The end of the whip was bloody but she didn't care and continued to beat her.
Hithiel swallowed hard. 'I would embrace death right now,' she thought. 'Just please let the pain stop.' She forced out, "It is my fault that I failed and I claim full responsibility for it. I will accept my fate." She closed her eyes, her dark lashes falling on her high cheekbones. Her dark raven locks fell on tangles all around her angelic face that was now contorted with pain. 'Just let it end... Let it all end...'
Her mother continued to beat her with all her strength. "You've failed me again, Hithiel! I do not accept failure! Failure means death but death is too good for you!"
Hithiel felt the lash hitting her but she no longer cared. The desire to live was well gone and even the pain seemed to be getting duller. She knew not for how long she kneeled there before she collapsed on top of the wooden platform. Her limp for hung over the bar that held her wrist and her breathing was shallow.
Her mother glared at her shocked. Then a grin curved up her deformed lips and she laughed. She hit the unconscious form a few more times before walking up to it and examining the wounds. She took out a clear crystal bottle from the folds of her robe and poured its contents over her back where it hissed as it went into her body. 'No matter how much you want to die, you won't be able to. You WILL kill Thranduil even if you die in the process. Now is not your time yet.'
Well? What do you think? My second fic improving? Reviews anyone? Reviews? I want a couple review before I continue this. Return of the King is coming!!!! Just 12 more days!!! WHOO!!!!