Chapter 7
A shadow moved, a chain whispered, a wound bled onto the rock floor.
Raunion felt pain, only pain. His mind drifted and his fea began to detach as he slowly faded into the halls of waiting.
Memories surfaced in his tormented mind, some good, some bad, but they all became the same as they became dull, far away, and dissolved into nothing.
An elfling trying to carry a large quiver full of arrows but managing to spill most of them onto the floor; a tall red haired elf picking up the small elfling and saying goodbye before leaving, never to return; a beautiful elleth in the moonlight; a battle field in the far east, the moans of the dying riseing and falling with the sounds of fire and clashing metal; an elf in the forest bound to a tree; a bright sword with 'buio uireb' carved into the blade; that same blade being driven into an ornate desk; a herd of mumakil stomping through a desert towards an inland sea; a tall white tower filled with men; dark mountains and hidden lairs of orcs and things much worse; a golden gate; the stars, a small elfling claiming to be Raunion's nephew...
Dark became the elf's thoughts - he no longer noticed the dripping of water on his forehead, he no longer strained to wet his cotton dry mouth and puffy lips, he no longer ducked the blows or counted the whip lashes that split his numb skin.
There was only one light left in his mind - Orien.
A door opened behind him - he no longer turned to see who it was now to torture him.
He only closed his eyes and let himself fall back into the dark waters and fading memories.
Beriorion died, Ionvain died, Celairrim died, and Raunion had no doubts that he would die too.
Orien - they had met not long after he returned from the southern province - she had been presiding over the graduation ceremonies. When it was Raunion's turn to bow before her and be given a silver feathered arrow he went forwards, bowing low, but as he rised he looked up and their eyes locked.
Both knew at that instant that they were meant to be together.
She handed him the arrow, their hands touched lightly and both let the moment linger, sparks racing from one hand to the other, before a discreet cough made them withdraw and Raunion bowed again.
They met occasionally, in secret, and both voulenteered to either go on a trip to the wall (for Orien) or relay messages to the palace (for Raunion.)
Love was sweet, but impossible for them.
Raunion, although the son of a lord and an accomplished archer, was young and out of favour with the court, unlike his brothers who were both movers and shakers in the doings of the palace.
Beriorion had been a close friend of the royal family, and Ionvain went through warrior training with the youngest son of Oropher.
When the court demanded all three brothers and their sister to be present, Raunion was starkly out of place in his archer's braids and slightly worn, brown and green robes, next to his well polished and fashionable siblings.
Orien loved him for his indifference to the pressures of the court, his calm features but bright twinkling eyes made him the apple of her eye.
Her brother, Oropher, often grumbled at the nerve this young elf had, attending court ceremonies in warrior robes and loosely braided hair. Orien would laugh and say only that some were not cut out for the courts.
But that light slowly dimmed in the captive's mind, pushed away and replaced with numb pain and silent screams.
Orien faded from his mind, and so began the fading of Raunion Henvainion.
Sorry it has taken awhile to update - I just came home from SCSTC HMCS Qu'Appelle... sigh. This was the last year for the mini-Q. We had a decommisioning ceremony - I bawled through most of it. (sniff)