Hey, just as I promised here is a NEW chapter for everyone! This chapter is a bit shorter than the rest but I can't guarantee length on any of them. Hope you like it. Don't forget to R&R!
Sorry about the Woad Speech thing. I didn't realize that how I made it obvious didn't work on the sight. I hope you can see it this time. If not let me know and I will do my best to change it.
The woods were thick. Broken bark and bits of twig mixed with the leaves and pine needles. Gray green light caused a soft cast of low light. A faint crushing of leaves was heard from Gandalf, Aragorn, and Faramir's feet as they were walking. Legolas, being an Elf, and Ilara being a warrior explicitly trained in stealth, made no sound as they passed through.
Their ears pricked up as the sound of a few rustled leaves was heard. Where it came from they could not tell. Soon after they were surrounded by a group of Woads. Blue designs were painted over their light blue skin. All were men and all had the same dark hair as she. They wore leather and rope vests and pants. Some had sword and dagger, others bow and arrow and axes.
Legolas pulled out his bow and strung an arrow, Aragorn, Gandalf, and Faramir had swords in their hands. All of them were ready to strike. Ilara put a hand on Legolas' hand and pushed it down. She then told them to slowly lower their weapons to the ground; a fight would not help them in any way. They did as they were told.
She then did something they did not expect. She held out her hands, ready and willing to have them tied. The Woads were slow to comply for no one had ever offered themselves like this before. A man came forward and tied her hands tightly before her. The others were done as well, though not with as much patience. All of this was done in silence. She whispered over her shoulder "do not fight them." They were then pushed forward through the forest to the Woad's hidden village.
They were led to a thinner part of the forest, where small huts were nestled between the trees. The ground became packed dirt with the occasional foliage across it. A patch of long thin trees grew closely together in a semi circle upon a mound of earth. There sat the elders of this tribe. In the middle was a large fire that burned surprisingly low for its size. It cast faint orange light that could not wash away the pale blue that seemed to consume everything it touched.
The band spoke in hushed murmurs that stopped abruptly as the newcomers were brought before them. The group was pushed to all fours, kneeling, and advised by Ilara neither to look up nor to look anyone directly in the eye. Feet could be seen and the muffled voices could be heard for an instant before the feet retreated back again. Now the circled men began to speak loudly and clearly, sure that they could not be understood.
Ilara listened intently though. This language was an ancient one to her but one that she knew well. They were confused about their surrender and weren't sure what to do with them. Ilara was in a similar dilemma. She needed to speak to them, but if she spoke what would happen? The Woads could be startled and she would endanger all their lives, or they could listen to what she had to say. In either case she had to try it, there was no other way.
She suddenly spoke out in their language, head never leaving its position. The voices stopped and she felt their eyes upon her. The sounds of metal resounded off the tress and a cold blade was pressed against her neck. She flinched in spite of herself. Now what have I done? Will my first prophesy come true? The blade moved under her chin and she raised her head to face the elders. One of them was still lowering his hand from his gesture.
He spoke to her with skepticism etched on every line of his face. "How do you speak our language?"
"I speak as you because I am one of your ancestors." There was no mistaking the surprise and disbelief of her blunt reasoning. The voices rose to shouts and hands gestured as they argued this. She noticed that among them there was a spot near the back of their group that stayed still. A man sat quietly and listened to the bickering, his eyes stayed focused on her. She shifted her own eyes away, uncomfortable under his heavy gaze.
Ilara sat on her heels now, watching their faces turn red till lack of breath stopped their ranting. Then they noticed the same thing and looked at him. Still he said nothing, but kept his eyes on her. She wondered then if they, if only some, retained enough of their old magic to truth listen like Gandalf.
"Merlin? Have you nothing to say on this matter?" one cried out of frustration at his calmness. Merlin took his time in answering.
Finally he said "what is there to say? She has told us that she is an ancestor. There has been nothing else said. What have you been fuming about? Let her tell us her tale." The faces went redder still from this rebuke of their oversight. They calmed themselves as much as they could before turning back their attention.
She steadied herself for what she must say, knowing that their lives hung in the balance of her choice of words. She related the same story she had told the band from Minas Tirith. Of how they came to be in this land. Of how they had changed and become what they were now. By the time she was finished she realized that they had been joined by a small handful of those who had overheard and were curious to hear more. When she was finished silence prevailed. No one was quite sure how to react, especially Aragorn, Gandalf, Faramir and Legolas who could not understand what was being said. The brows of the council were furrowed in deep thought, even Merlin's. Now their fate would be decided.
Let me know who your fave knights are and why and I'll see what I can do. I am honestly still picking them for it is not easy to do but I would like to hear some input. I can't promise that your fave knight's will make it though so please no flames if/when that happens. Thank you.