1Chapter 8
Atalantawen: The Fallen Maiden
Atalantawen... That was the name her mother gave her when she was born. It meant, Fallen Maiden. For her mother was so sure that she had fallen from the heavens with the graces of the Valar.
Atalantawen didn't like her name. Her mistress, Queen Arya, was convinced that her name meant that she had fallen from grace, and not with grace. For of course, she was not overly beautiful. She was not an elf. A mortal, human, girl, who had just reached her twenty-first birthday. Pale skin. Gilded hair that had now grown to her mid-back. Secretive brown eyes that, according to her mother, were like her father's (A/N: more on him later...). She never spoke unless asked to. One might describe her as 'the usual pretty petite maiden'. She didn't even want to look close to pretty. For being pretty, would only get you the wrong kind of attention here... Something that she had learned since she had come of age.
Her mother's name was Luinil. She had been named after a star shining with blue light. Rightly so, for her bright blue eyes seemed to glitter like the star she'd been named after. Luinil, was a cook. And a very good one at that. Her meals always seemed to please the Lady Arya. Because of this, it earned her (as well as her daughter) special privileges.
All her life, Atalantawen had known, seen, and even experienced all the evil that lurked around the fortress of Durthang. Arya had drafted her into her army, because of a fight that had broken out between her and a very drunken, and very stupid soldier. Atalantawen, or Tala, as she liked to call herself for short, was walking back to her chambers when she had been forced up against the wall by the man. This man, in particular, was the first man who forcibly raped her. And after he had done that, he had told Arya how she had not submitted herself to him quietly. Arya had grinned evilly, and sentenced her to fifty lashes. She still had the scars.
But this time, as she saw the man's face and realized that this was the man who had put her through so much hardship, she snapped. She grabbed one of the daggers hand by his belt and plunged it into his stomach. He yelled out in pain, stumbling backwards. His hand wrenched the dagger out of his side, and he hurled it back at her. She had dodged it, and kicked him hard in the face, breaking his jaw. Tala didn't even know that she had a singular audience watching her. As the man stumbled to his feet again, he drew his sword, and ran at her with a war cry. She dodged again, letting him slam into the wall behind, knocking him out on impact. Tala heard clapping behind her, and turned to see Arya looking at her with approval, saying that she had more skill than half the army under her command. She signed her up without even asking her about it. She was only seventeen.
But that was a long time ago. Now she was twenty-one, and a damn good soldier. Her mother was dead. She had died at the hands of a rapist soldier. Her hatred for all the guards and servants who had made her suffer became her drive to prove herself. Ever since she had turned sixteen, they had called her a petite whore for always being the favorite plaything of the other soldiers. The eighth time this happened, she had cut out the offending tongue. She didn't trust males. Even as far as she could throw them.
Now, she was as cruel and ruthless as her mistress... Which was exactly what Arya had wanted.
Tala had fought against Minas Tirith for four and a half years. She had seen massacres, slaughters, and what her fellow soldiers claimed to be "men's brutal pastime". Her blade was hardly ever clean. Her conscience, hardly ever clear. She never saw any women on the battle-field, which convinced her that war had been a creation of the males. One more reason why she hated and didn't trust them.
One night, while serving her mistress's dinner, Arya asked her, "Fallen one, what do you think of men?"
Her cold reply was, "Monsters. Spawn of evil. I don't care if it's a he-elf, if they still exist. Men are all the same to me. Cruel, heartless, bastards."
And nothing anyone had ever said could, will, or ever change her mind. She was a cold silent maiden now. If there was one thing she loathed and vowed never to desire, it was a male. Males had been the reason why she turned in the first place...
And would a male change her back? Lol. Sorry, just had to say it. This was a particularly difficult chapter to put together.
So, a little explaining. Atalantawen (Tala) is Tari. Or rather, the body in which Tari's spirit dwells. I want you to understand, that Tari isn't the one killing people. She isn't the one who hates males. Tari is an innocent bystander, locked inside this human's body. She can't do anything to stop Tala from what she does.
I expect LOTS of reviews for posting two chapters in a day, AGAIN. Though I do realize that the chapter 7 was short.