Another post, another chapter. two in one day is pretty good, ain't it? I
have nothing else to say, except I want a beta-reader!!! Please????
Chapter VI nurtalë mí vanwië
[Hiding is the Lost]
The elves led the Fellowship through the woods, a vast forest filled with Mellyrn trees: trees with a bark of silver and leaves that stayed gold all winter. They rested a night in the high trees, then proceeded the next morning towards the fair city of Lórien.
Aragorn and Gimli sat and wondered of what had happened to Haíthwen, and talked that night when the others had drifted into sleep.
"I had not thought she would have fled from the elves, though it certainly was a possibility." Gimli said as he lit his pipe and sat down, leaning against the trunk of the tree.
"To what do you mean?" Aragorn asked, the thought crossing his thoughts that this dwarf was more mindful of things that Aragorn had previously considered.
"It was not hard to miss the fact that she has avoided our elf throughout the journey here; and surely, you are her friend in this company, and far longer a friend than the rest of us. Surely you know just as well as I have guessed of her reasoning for it." He said, continuing puffing on his pipe contentedly, blowing the odd smoke ring.
"What have you guessed, Master Gimli?" Aragorn asked, quietly as he could because elves patrolled the area around them. "For indeed I have known all the time of her lineage, but 'tis not information that would bode well were it shared freely, even now." Gimli only chuckled and slapped Aragorn on the back pleasantly.
"Peace, my friend! I believe I have figured out her past, and I assure you I completely agree with her secrecy. After all, tis not every day we come across a. sprite as herself. No indeed, I would have felt the same were I in her position. Poor lass," He said, showing what may have been the first display of pity Aragorn had ever seen from a dwarf.
"But when did you first know? Indeed, t'was only a fortnight ago that Legolas saw it himself."
"Only a fortnight?" Gimli asked, laughing heartily and almost dropping his pipe from his hand. "And he should have been the first to know, undeniably! I had known since the stair of Moria that she was one! Amazing that he could not see! Oh, I shall have fun with this bit of knowledge, sure enough!"
Aragorn frowned at this, but he relaxed as well, for surely the dwarf only jested; he would not tell something of such an importance.
The Fellowship had rested as well as could be expected, for the Hobbits, though tired, did not enjoy sleeping in a tree as much as Legolas had, for obvious reasons. The continued on, pausing a couple hours before noon, and soon enough, another party of elves joined them. The company slowly recognized the group as the elves that had set out in search of Haíthwen.
Boromir looked over the group, and almost thought perhaps she had eluded their search, when one of the Silvan elves pushed her forwards and into view. The group had not the chance to speak, if even Haíthwen looked in the mood to speak, for once again the assembly set back on the path towards the Elven city. Boromir was surprised of her appearance, as must have been the rest of the Fellowship, for they glanced often back at her, who refused to meet their gazes. He had wondered of her origins, for she seemed very vague, unwilling to converse or say anything about herself. When he had inquired about it earlier, she had said very little, 'I am myself, I am here, and I am a friend. I come from everywhere, I hail from nowhere. What more is there to discern about my life?' Boromir had found no answers, but as she was returned, her present state raised even more questions.
Her cloak and vest had been taken, as well as her pack and belt, which held her daggers. She seemed much more tense, and smaller and more lithe without her overcloak. Where her hands seemed simply clasped behind her back at a first glance, they were tied at the wrists and elbows by a thin, grey rope. The elves pushed her along the path as she struggled against the ropes, her position and deportment clearly showing she had no intentions of staying, had she the choice to leave. A dark red scratch only above her eyebrow also told that there had been a struggle, and apparently the Elves surrounding her had come out victorious, although in not much better condition as Haíthwen. Boromir could see bruises and cuts on their arms, and one limped slightly.
Her face showed many stories in itself. As they walked along, Boromir glanced back occasionally in her direction, and grew even more distrustful of her. In one moment, when the elves were near, she would seem infuriated at being captured, and kept her head high and a glare at all the surrounding elves. But the occasional flicker of emotion in her eyes showed much more. When she thought no one was looking, she seemed genuinely terrified of her surroundings and the elves around her, glancing around at every small sound, looking like a trapped and frightened animal.
With every small step, she was less and less willing to enter the forest, the elves pushing her along more frequently as they marched amongst the trees. Aragorn, when he saw her state of misery, was concerned, and approached Haldir.
"Should it really be necessary for the Lady to be bound as she is?" He asked when he caught up to the elf.
"Aye. We would have not had to do so if she had not proved so. perilous to the guard. Had she entered quietly, we would have had no objections to her proceeding peacefully.
"But look upon her!" Aragorn cried, keeping his voice low yet as dangerous as he dared. "She is nothing but a child! She has feared Lórien and elves for as long as I can remember, and years before that. If you were frightened, in a place you wished least to be, I'm sure you would have reacted likewise!" Aragorn was pleased for a brief moment as Haldir paused and considered his words.
"I shall admit: I may have acted in a similar fashion. However, she was difficult in subduing, the whole party sent after her was needed to stop her. And judge their states for yourself; a mere child could not have injured four of her Lady's best scouts as she had.
"Now, being as a member of your Company, she shall be treated such as the others. However, she shall be accompanied by the elves and shall remain bound until Galadriel herself passes her judgement, not beforehand." He said, hissing the last part and turning away again, ending his end of the parley.
Aragorn sighed and released his hand from the hilt of Andúril, much to his surprise he knew not that he held it. He left it at that, for he knew it was pointless to continue arguing, for no good would come of it. He was somewhat reassured that now she would be seen by Galadriel, and he had fulfilled his oath to Gandalf; yet at present he felt worry and unease at how she was treated, for surely she deserved none of this. Her evident distress and discomfort helped none in easing his soul.
Haíthwen now was being led by the shoulder by one of the elves, and looked more pained than before. None of the fellowship ahead of her were the wiser in seeing the other hand of the Elf who guided her, which held a small Elven dagger at the small of her back, threatening her to behave.
They came to a large stream, which flowed rapidly and swiftly. Haldir named it the Celebrant. He whistled shortly and another blond elf, clad in grey, appeared from the trees. He threw across a grey rope, and the elf caught it and secured it around a tree on the far shore. Two more ropes were fastened above it, for the non-Elven to hold as they crossed the rope bridge.
When at length most of the Company had crossed the stream, and only Aragorn and Haíthwen remained on the first side of the shore, one of the taller elves approached her.
"I am not permitted to remove your bindings to ease your crossing, so I shall carry you across." He said, drawing nearer to her.
"Hayl no! Over my cold dead body will I allow an elf," she spat out the word, contempt dripping off it, "carry me across when I am perfectly capable of walking it myself!" She said, jumping away from his grasp and attempting to hide behind Aragorn, who only stayed her towards him, his hand against her back.
« Lórëala, ae nauthim athradon i hir. » [If I thought you could get across the river.] Aragorn started, trying to convince her it was the only way. He wished he knew more Quenya, her first-learned Elvish tongue, but he spoke in Sindarin, the one he knew the best. She would not let him continue.
« Ávan! Elendië váquet ve sina! » [I won't! I refuse to travel as such.] she cried, abashed at the thought of being carried across like mere luggage. "Okay, I'd rather walk across myself that let him carry me!" she said, her tone icy and unkind. "Let Aragorn cross first, then get rid of the ropes above, and I shall cross on my own two feet, arms bound." She said defiantly, standing her ground. The elf looked at Aragorn sceptically; if he was not intrigued by her actions, then he was perplexed at Aragorn's use of Sindárin, and her reply in Quenya. The elf was a young member of the Guard, but even still he had yet to see such strange foreigners. Aragorn looked doubtful himself, but then he sighed and nodded.
"How shall we know you will not attempt to escape by jumping into the river? It is icy cold, and you would not last long."
"The thought had crossed my mind." she mumbled, and the elf tensed and glared at her. "Well, I'd suppose you'd just have to trust me. I'd let you follow behind me, but if you're on as well, I'll lose any balance I may have."
The elf still looked unsure, but Aragorn vouched for her actions and would take blame if she tried to escape.
"I hope you are not planning to leave, now that my neck is on the line for you." He whispered as he walked towards the edge. He crossed the bridge before the higher two ropes were taken off.
Aragorn, now on the other side, thought for a moment that she may have allowed him to carry her, when Haíthwen edged towards the stream, looking wary of the water below her. The elf did take a step towards her, but before he could close the distance between them, she jumped onto the rope, the grey cord not so much as bending under her weight. She turned and walked backwards, glancing warily again at the elf who might make a move to follow her.
Before the elf could say anything or do anything, she turned and continued walking across the rope, almost like she floated above it. It seemed like, as she walked across, it was a normal floor that she walked on, that she walked as freely and as proudly as any noblewoman; but could anyone have looked closely, they would have seen her feet never actually touching the rope. She concentrated hard, taking most of her remaining strength to make a floor of air underneath her and her body, and she thanked Elbereth she had had the gall to experiment with the power of Air enough to save her dignity from being carried across like an invalid. If I can save nothing else, let me at least keep my dignity. And my stubbornness, that may come in handy later, she thought ironically.
Her step suddenly faltered when she had crossed over the land again and one of the elves brushed against the rope. She felt the air dissipate as her concentration cracked, and she slipped off the rope, but Aragorn was there and caught her before she hit the ground, landing lightly in his arms. She bit her lip to stifle a cry as all her weight leaned against him through her back, and she could feel an old wound re-open. Damn elves, damn orcs, damn rope. she thought as her vision clouded
"I told them not to touch the rope." she hissed under her breath, and she up-righted herself as best she could, Aragorn steadying her. She mumbled a small 'thank you' before she was ushered away by the guards. He brought his hand up to rub his face, but stopped himself when he saw the red glossy look of his fingertips. 'Blood?' he thought, wiping it off on a spare handkerchief from his pocket. 'But where could it have come from?'
His gaze shifted in dismay as his eyes fell on Haíthwen. He could see no visible wound, but that did not mean it was not there, if indeed it was her own blood. He would have to wait till they reached the city, for the sentry would not allow him near her to inquire anyways. He let it rest, although it was still on his mind; she did not look injured in anyway, so in all likelihood it was only a minor cut. That or she was slowly bleeding to death and would not tell anyone. Either-or, he thought as he sighed heavily, he could only watch and wait.
They continued onwards, approaching the Elven city. A small dispute arose when Haldir went to blindfold Gimli, who refused it stubbornly.
"Master Dwarf, Master Elf," Haíthwen spoke up timidly, breaking Gimli and Legolas out of their argument with her soft words. "Here I am -tied- with a knife to my back, and I have yet to openly complain about it. Seriously, what is so terrible of a mere blindfold?"
Aragorn chided them as well, and the Fellowship all agreed to be blindfolded, even Haíthwen, much to the dismay of the others, who thought it unfair that she was to be blind as well as bound.
"I care not," she said weakly and did not so much as protest as the cover slipped over her eyes.
The company was strangely silent, and none other could explain why except that perhaps they were ashamed they complained, while one of their kin was subject to much worse. The elf who lead her paid not nearly enough attention to her weary state as was needed, and she stumbled several times, falling hard and not being able to catch herself. The elves finally conceded to remove her blindfold; after she fell over a tree root and hit her head, unable to stand steadily on her own for a couple moments.
When the rest of the blindfolds were finally removed, the Fellowship found themselves on the outskirts of the luminous city of Lórien. Haíthwen seemed rather pale to Frodo and the other hobbits, who looked rather worriedly at her as they found time to turn their gaze away from their wonderful surroundings. She winced every time one of the guards touched her back, although they knew not why.
Haíthwen cared not for the sights around her. She had seen them many times, and in her present state, she cared not if the city was the Halls of Mandos, or the darkest towers of Mordor; they were just there, and she was a prisoner of her surroundings.
Her last ounce of hope at escape had vanished as she had crossed the Celebrant, for while she was blindfolded she lost her sense of direction, and even if she could have distinguished one tree from another at one point of time, she could hardly find the strength to care or remember now, never minding the fact that she most likely would've had to fight her way out. undeniably something she could not have done, even if she was at full strength.
The knife that continued to be pressed into her back was another constant reminder of her captivity and sense of utter hopelessness. And it failed to do anything good for the thin fragility of her wings, which lay folded against her back and pressed painfully under her arms. She vaguely felt the thin cuts, tears, and abrasions that covered the gossamer limbs, and the cold trickle of blood that was making her back clammy.
In a sardonic sense, she almost hoped the blood would alert the guard that maybe, just maybe, he should find some other way to intimidate her.
She shifted her hands against the wounds as much as her shoulders would allow, but she could not stop the slow trickle of blood, and soon she felt the sticky liquid on her hands and soaking her shirt. Of course, she thought, he's carrying a cursed Elven blade. Hasn't even cut my shirt. Stupid elves. miserable gits. Stupid, rotten, damn-assed anal retentive blonde dim-witted dense as a sack of doorknobs, mother frickin' bleeping jebbus dancing buddy Christ bunch of. dolts. Dolts? What even is a dolt? For sure I could think of better insults than that. Maybe if I didn't feel like a piece of chopped liver. LIVER??? Yuck, hate the stuff. do people always think such absolutely random moronic things when under the influence of suchlike, or is it just me?
It's just me. I have gone insane. Hurrah!
She looked around her and groaned. Well, this was it. They drew closer to the Lord and Lady's main audience chamber incredibly quickly. Now, she had no choice of escaping, if ever there was one after the first failed attempt.
Fear slowly dawned on her, and she began to draw nervous again. She trembled as she was led through the doors to the chamber. The only thing she knew was the pain in her wings, the throb in her head and the fear in her heart as the doors thudded closed.
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Chapter VI nurtalë mí vanwië
[Hiding is the Lost]
The elves led the Fellowship through the woods, a vast forest filled with Mellyrn trees: trees with a bark of silver and leaves that stayed gold all winter. They rested a night in the high trees, then proceeded the next morning towards the fair city of Lórien.
Aragorn and Gimli sat and wondered of what had happened to Haíthwen, and talked that night when the others had drifted into sleep.
"I had not thought she would have fled from the elves, though it certainly was a possibility." Gimli said as he lit his pipe and sat down, leaning against the trunk of the tree.
"To what do you mean?" Aragorn asked, the thought crossing his thoughts that this dwarf was more mindful of things that Aragorn had previously considered.
"It was not hard to miss the fact that she has avoided our elf throughout the journey here; and surely, you are her friend in this company, and far longer a friend than the rest of us. Surely you know just as well as I have guessed of her reasoning for it." He said, continuing puffing on his pipe contentedly, blowing the odd smoke ring.
"What have you guessed, Master Gimli?" Aragorn asked, quietly as he could because elves patrolled the area around them. "For indeed I have known all the time of her lineage, but 'tis not information that would bode well were it shared freely, even now." Gimli only chuckled and slapped Aragorn on the back pleasantly.
"Peace, my friend! I believe I have figured out her past, and I assure you I completely agree with her secrecy. After all, tis not every day we come across a. sprite as herself. No indeed, I would have felt the same were I in her position. Poor lass," He said, showing what may have been the first display of pity Aragorn had ever seen from a dwarf.
"But when did you first know? Indeed, t'was only a fortnight ago that Legolas saw it himself."
"Only a fortnight?" Gimli asked, laughing heartily and almost dropping his pipe from his hand. "And he should have been the first to know, undeniably! I had known since the stair of Moria that she was one! Amazing that he could not see! Oh, I shall have fun with this bit of knowledge, sure enough!"
Aragorn frowned at this, but he relaxed as well, for surely the dwarf only jested; he would not tell something of such an importance.
The Fellowship had rested as well as could be expected, for the Hobbits, though tired, did not enjoy sleeping in a tree as much as Legolas had, for obvious reasons. The continued on, pausing a couple hours before noon, and soon enough, another party of elves joined them. The company slowly recognized the group as the elves that had set out in search of Haíthwen.
Boromir looked over the group, and almost thought perhaps she had eluded their search, when one of the Silvan elves pushed her forwards and into view. The group had not the chance to speak, if even Haíthwen looked in the mood to speak, for once again the assembly set back on the path towards the Elven city. Boromir was surprised of her appearance, as must have been the rest of the Fellowship, for they glanced often back at her, who refused to meet their gazes. He had wondered of her origins, for she seemed very vague, unwilling to converse or say anything about herself. When he had inquired about it earlier, she had said very little, 'I am myself, I am here, and I am a friend. I come from everywhere, I hail from nowhere. What more is there to discern about my life?' Boromir had found no answers, but as she was returned, her present state raised even more questions.
Her cloak and vest had been taken, as well as her pack and belt, which held her daggers. She seemed much more tense, and smaller and more lithe without her overcloak. Where her hands seemed simply clasped behind her back at a first glance, they were tied at the wrists and elbows by a thin, grey rope. The elves pushed her along the path as she struggled against the ropes, her position and deportment clearly showing she had no intentions of staying, had she the choice to leave. A dark red scratch only above her eyebrow also told that there had been a struggle, and apparently the Elves surrounding her had come out victorious, although in not much better condition as Haíthwen. Boromir could see bruises and cuts on their arms, and one limped slightly.
Her face showed many stories in itself. As they walked along, Boromir glanced back occasionally in her direction, and grew even more distrustful of her. In one moment, when the elves were near, she would seem infuriated at being captured, and kept her head high and a glare at all the surrounding elves. But the occasional flicker of emotion in her eyes showed much more. When she thought no one was looking, she seemed genuinely terrified of her surroundings and the elves around her, glancing around at every small sound, looking like a trapped and frightened animal.
With every small step, she was less and less willing to enter the forest, the elves pushing her along more frequently as they marched amongst the trees. Aragorn, when he saw her state of misery, was concerned, and approached Haldir.
"Should it really be necessary for the Lady to be bound as she is?" He asked when he caught up to the elf.
"Aye. We would have not had to do so if she had not proved so. perilous to the guard. Had she entered quietly, we would have had no objections to her proceeding peacefully.
"But look upon her!" Aragorn cried, keeping his voice low yet as dangerous as he dared. "She is nothing but a child! She has feared Lórien and elves for as long as I can remember, and years before that. If you were frightened, in a place you wished least to be, I'm sure you would have reacted likewise!" Aragorn was pleased for a brief moment as Haldir paused and considered his words.
"I shall admit: I may have acted in a similar fashion. However, she was difficult in subduing, the whole party sent after her was needed to stop her. And judge their states for yourself; a mere child could not have injured four of her Lady's best scouts as she had.
"Now, being as a member of your Company, she shall be treated such as the others. However, she shall be accompanied by the elves and shall remain bound until Galadriel herself passes her judgement, not beforehand." He said, hissing the last part and turning away again, ending his end of the parley.
Aragorn sighed and released his hand from the hilt of Andúril, much to his surprise he knew not that he held it. He left it at that, for he knew it was pointless to continue arguing, for no good would come of it. He was somewhat reassured that now she would be seen by Galadriel, and he had fulfilled his oath to Gandalf; yet at present he felt worry and unease at how she was treated, for surely she deserved none of this. Her evident distress and discomfort helped none in easing his soul.
Haíthwen now was being led by the shoulder by one of the elves, and looked more pained than before. None of the fellowship ahead of her were the wiser in seeing the other hand of the Elf who guided her, which held a small Elven dagger at the small of her back, threatening her to behave.
They came to a large stream, which flowed rapidly and swiftly. Haldir named it the Celebrant. He whistled shortly and another blond elf, clad in grey, appeared from the trees. He threw across a grey rope, and the elf caught it and secured it around a tree on the far shore. Two more ropes were fastened above it, for the non-Elven to hold as they crossed the rope bridge.
When at length most of the Company had crossed the stream, and only Aragorn and Haíthwen remained on the first side of the shore, one of the taller elves approached her.
"I am not permitted to remove your bindings to ease your crossing, so I shall carry you across." He said, drawing nearer to her.
"Hayl no! Over my cold dead body will I allow an elf," she spat out the word, contempt dripping off it, "carry me across when I am perfectly capable of walking it myself!" She said, jumping away from his grasp and attempting to hide behind Aragorn, who only stayed her towards him, his hand against her back.
« Lórëala, ae nauthim athradon i hir. » [If I thought you could get across the river.] Aragorn started, trying to convince her it was the only way. He wished he knew more Quenya, her first-learned Elvish tongue, but he spoke in Sindarin, the one he knew the best. She would not let him continue.
« Ávan! Elendië váquet ve sina! » [I won't! I refuse to travel as such.] she cried, abashed at the thought of being carried across like mere luggage. "Okay, I'd rather walk across myself that let him carry me!" she said, her tone icy and unkind. "Let Aragorn cross first, then get rid of the ropes above, and I shall cross on my own two feet, arms bound." She said defiantly, standing her ground. The elf looked at Aragorn sceptically; if he was not intrigued by her actions, then he was perplexed at Aragorn's use of Sindárin, and her reply in Quenya. The elf was a young member of the Guard, but even still he had yet to see such strange foreigners. Aragorn looked doubtful himself, but then he sighed and nodded.
"How shall we know you will not attempt to escape by jumping into the river? It is icy cold, and you would not last long."
"The thought had crossed my mind." she mumbled, and the elf tensed and glared at her. "Well, I'd suppose you'd just have to trust me. I'd let you follow behind me, but if you're on as well, I'll lose any balance I may have."
The elf still looked unsure, but Aragorn vouched for her actions and would take blame if she tried to escape.
"I hope you are not planning to leave, now that my neck is on the line for you." He whispered as he walked towards the edge. He crossed the bridge before the higher two ropes were taken off.
Aragorn, now on the other side, thought for a moment that she may have allowed him to carry her, when Haíthwen edged towards the stream, looking wary of the water below her. The elf did take a step towards her, but before he could close the distance between them, she jumped onto the rope, the grey cord not so much as bending under her weight. She turned and walked backwards, glancing warily again at the elf who might make a move to follow her.
Before the elf could say anything or do anything, she turned and continued walking across the rope, almost like she floated above it. It seemed like, as she walked across, it was a normal floor that she walked on, that she walked as freely and as proudly as any noblewoman; but could anyone have looked closely, they would have seen her feet never actually touching the rope. She concentrated hard, taking most of her remaining strength to make a floor of air underneath her and her body, and she thanked Elbereth she had had the gall to experiment with the power of Air enough to save her dignity from being carried across like an invalid. If I can save nothing else, let me at least keep my dignity. And my stubbornness, that may come in handy later, she thought ironically.
Her step suddenly faltered when she had crossed over the land again and one of the elves brushed against the rope. She felt the air dissipate as her concentration cracked, and she slipped off the rope, but Aragorn was there and caught her before she hit the ground, landing lightly in his arms. She bit her lip to stifle a cry as all her weight leaned against him through her back, and she could feel an old wound re-open. Damn elves, damn orcs, damn rope. she thought as her vision clouded
"I told them not to touch the rope." she hissed under her breath, and she up-righted herself as best she could, Aragorn steadying her. She mumbled a small 'thank you' before she was ushered away by the guards. He brought his hand up to rub his face, but stopped himself when he saw the red glossy look of his fingertips. 'Blood?' he thought, wiping it off on a spare handkerchief from his pocket. 'But where could it have come from?'
His gaze shifted in dismay as his eyes fell on Haíthwen. He could see no visible wound, but that did not mean it was not there, if indeed it was her own blood. He would have to wait till they reached the city, for the sentry would not allow him near her to inquire anyways. He let it rest, although it was still on his mind; she did not look injured in anyway, so in all likelihood it was only a minor cut. That or she was slowly bleeding to death and would not tell anyone. Either-or, he thought as he sighed heavily, he could only watch and wait.
They continued onwards, approaching the Elven city. A small dispute arose when Haldir went to blindfold Gimli, who refused it stubbornly.
"Master Dwarf, Master Elf," Haíthwen spoke up timidly, breaking Gimli and Legolas out of their argument with her soft words. "Here I am -tied- with a knife to my back, and I have yet to openly complain about it. Seriously, what is so terrible of a mere blindfold?"
Aragorn chided them as well, and the Fellowship all agreed to be blindfolded, even Haíthwen, much to the dismay of the others, who thought it unfair that she was to be blind as well as bound.
"I care not," she said weakly and did not so much as protest as the cover slipped over her eyes.
The company was strangely silent, and none other could explain why except that perhaps they were ashamed they complained, while one of their kin was subject to much worse. The elf who lead her paid not nearly enough attention to her weary state as was needed, and she stumbled several times, falling hard and not being able to catch herself. The elves finally conceded to remove her blindfold; after she fell over a tree root and hit her head, unable to stand steadily on her own for a couple moments.
When the rest of the blindfolds were finally removed, the Fellowship found themselves on the outskirts of the luminous city of Lórien. Haíthwen seemed rather pale to Frodo and the other hobbits, who looked rather worriedly at her as they found time to turn their gaze away from their wonderful surroundings. She winced every time one of the guards touched her back, although they knew not why.
Haíthwen cared not for the sights around her. She had seen them many times, and in her present state, she cared not if the city was the Halls of Mandos, or the darkest towers of Mordor; they were just there, and she was a prisoner of her surroundings.
Her last ounce of hope at escape had vanished as she had crossed the Celebrant, for while she was blindfolded she lost her sense of direction, and even if she could have distinguished one tree from another at one point of time, she could hardly find the strength to care or remember now, never minding the fact that she most likely would've had to fight her way out. undeniably something she could not have done, even if she was at full strength.
The knife that continued to be pressed into her back was another constant reminder of her captivity and sense of utter hopelessness. And it failed to do anything good for the thin fragility of her wings, which lay folded against her back and pressed painfully under her arms. She vaguely felt the thin cuts, tears, and abrasions that covered the gossamer limbs, and the cold trickle of blood that was making her back clammy.
In a sardonic sense, she almost hoped the blood would alert the guard that maybe, just maybe, he should find some other way to intimidate her.
She shifted her hands against the wounds as much as her shoulders would allow, but she could not stop the slow trickle of blood, and soon she felt the sticky liquid on her hands and soaking her shirt. Of course, she thought, he's carrying a cursed Elven blade. Hasn't even cut my shirt. Stupid elves. miserable gits. Stupid, rotten, damn-assed anal retentive blonde dim-witted dense as a sack of doorknobs, mother frickin' bleeping jebbus dancing buddy Christ bunch of. dolts. Dolts? What even is a dolt? For sure I could think of better insults than that. Maybe if I didn't feel like a piece of chopped liver. LIVER??? Yuck, hate the stuff. do people always think such absolutely random moronic things when under the influence of suchlike, or is it just me?
It's just me. I have gone insane. Hurrah!
She looked around her and groaned. Well, this was it. They drew closer to the Lord and Lady's main audience chamber incredibly quickly. Now, she had no choice of escaping, if ever there was one after the first failed attempt.
Fear slowly dawned on her, and she began to draw nervous again. She trembled as she was led through the doors to the chamber. The only thing she knew was the pain in her wings, the throb in her head and the fear in her heart as the doors thudded closed.
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