.
*** Note I – A big thank you to those favoring, following and reviewing my fanfic, it really lifts my spirits~! You people are awesome~! :D ***
*** Note II – Disclaimer: I obviously do not own the too-awesome-for-words Tolkien Universe. I own my ever-growing long list of OCs~ :3 ***
*** Note III – Just FYI: The scenes in this chapter go through the middle of October to the middle of November~ (._. ) ***
*** Note IV – I think I screwed up with the scene regarding Thranéal helping Lyrial with horseback riding . . . Ah well~ You readers can be the judge of that~ ( O3O)/ ***
*** Note V – Just a little comment for the next chapter: It will be A LOT happier than this one. And it will include a certain someone introducing chocolate to the elves~ (*-* ) ***
*** Note VI – A mini warning here: Near the end of the third scene, there will be some unwanted sexual physical attentions (No rape; I cannot actually bring myself to write the act) . . . Also, some detailed violence and sadism. Just putting that out there for those who may feel uncomfortable~ X=X ***
.
.
~ 006 – To Spend Time With Others ~
.
.
"It is one of the blessings of old friends that you can afford to be stupid with them."
~ Ralph Waldo Emerson
.
.
Hiriel was a young and quite pretty elleth. And just as she was drawn to Lalaith's hair, Lyrial marveled at her educator's straight and hip-length silvery hair that was held back from her face by a few small and decretive braids. The teacher's pale blue eyes added to her rather snowy-like complexion; with which had Lyrial mistaking her for some sort of snow princess upon first meeting.
They sat cross-legged and faced each other outside in the common gardens, atop a deep red blanket. Notebooks, as well as a couple of textbooks, were spread out between them. To their side was a small basket of five – well four – cupcakes. Lyrial had just finished eating the delicious confectionary; the fluffy, vanilla sponge soothing her taste buds. It had a bit of strawberry jam inside of it, which reminded her of those Tim Hortons' 'fruity explosion' muffins. The white cream atop the muffin head had a hint of lemon zest, and on top of that was a fresh and sweet strawberry.
"Your atrocious handwriting leaves much to be desired," the snowy elleth stated rather in a blunt jest. They had developed a quick friendship, thanks to Hiriel's energetic eagerness.
Lyrial glared at her. "I knooooooowwwww!" she whined as she dropped the glare, "Tengwar is just so foreign to me!"
"You will get used to it soon enough. May I see your Westron? I have yet to actually see your writing. And I want to know if making your writing pretty will be a challenge."
Well, isn't she rather straight-forward . . . In her notebook, Lyrial printed the random sentence of, 'Hello. I am in love with cake.' Hiriel was pleased with the neat and well-structured printing; and so she then requested for the other's handwriting. The amethyst-eyed elleth wrote down the same sentence in cursive and showed it to the teacher.
Hiriel's eyes sparkled and she exclaimed dramatically, "Oh my goodness, it is so pretty!" She then placed both hands on either of Lyrial's shoulders; and stared seriously and intensely into her eyes. Lyrial was frozen in spot, partly in dread. The snowy elleth continued. "Have no fear, my pupil. I shall endeavour to perfect your Sindarin, and help you with your Tengwar – so much so that the Valar will gawk at its elegance!"
Lyrial tittered. "Someone is quite enthusiastic."
And as they continued Lyrial's Elvish lessons, two familiar light brown bunnies chased each other around a fiery-leaved tree. They wanted their mistress to hurry up and play with them. To Lyrial's surprise, about a week back, Thranduil had given her permission to keep the bunnies – given that she will be responsible for taking care of them; and, will make sure that they do not "disrupt the peace."
The bunny she named 'Ailee' (after the South Korean American singer whom she admired), ceased its chasing and moved to a much shadier area, a little closer to Lyrial, but still some metres away. The female creature lied on its' stomach, black beady eyes gazing expectantly at the platinum blonde-haired elleth. The other bunny, with which said elleth named 'Jay' (she just thought of that name whilst observing a couple of blue jays), followed its' companion, and laid down in the same position. The male rabbit also stared at Lyrial with its' large, back beady eyes.
Time passed and they felt a presence lying down next to them.
"Hello, pyn tithen," Aeluin laid on his stomach, propping his upper body up with his forearms. He smiled softly at the fluff balls and pat them, to which they snuggled up against the length of his forearm. "Waiting for someone?"
The bunnies immediately looked at him, and then turned their gazes in Lyrial's direction. He followed the direction of their gazes to two ellith, namely Lyrial, and kept his eyes on her side profile; admiring the way her lengthy hair fell along her shoulders and down her front and back, accenting her curves. He felt his heartbeats increase slightly as the elleth smiled – probably at finally understanding a concept or what-have-you – and he was drawn to her almond-shaped doe eyes narrowing into playful crescents from said smile.
Feeling paws along his arm, Aeluin looked down and almost bumped his nose against Jay's wet one. The male rabbit peered into his icy blue ones, turned to Lyrial, and then stared right back into his eyes. The Sindar prince cupped the creature's head and pat it, playing with its ears. "You understand what I am feeling, don't you?" he smiled wistfully.
And then Aeluin held back a laugh, as Ailee's ticklish paws connected onto his back.
.
.
Lyrial and the CiCi Twins sat on a navy blue blanket atop some grass that overlooked the archery range. They chatted whilst snacking on an array of fruit.
Lyrial's archery lessons with Cierdan continued on this fine day, and even the usually distant and grumpy Ciertan joined them! Although the platinum white-haired younger twin did not speak much, Lyrial was certain that it was because he was not entirely comfortable with her. But at least their brief attempts of conversation were not fully awkward anymore.
As Ciertan took a green apple to his mouth, Lyrial turned to the raven-haired older twin. "So I've been wanting to ask this . . . But I kept forgetting . . ."
Cierdan snickered a bit. "What is it?"
"I'm just curious about the different races of elves, specifically the ones that live here."
"Ah, a good question. Greenwood consists of many Sindar elves; however, there are more Silvan elves, as these forests were originally inhabited by the Silvan race. The Sindar migrated here from the now-sunken Beleriand – I will tell you more about that later – and made peace with the Silvan elves, thanks to Oropher, our king's father. The same also happened with the migration to Lothlórien, led by the late King Amdír and his son, Amroth, who is now the current king of that city."
Lyrial's eyes sparkled with interest. "You must expand upon that later! But I hope my next question isn't too personal: Are you Sindarin or Silvan? Because after observing the elves, you don't really look like either of them . . . Nor do a few others. Ciertan kind of does, but . . ."
"It's not too personal!" Cierdan replied with a smile. "My brother and I are a quarter Vanya, a quarter Sinda, and half-Noldo – the Noldo part is why we are considerably taller than almost everyone here."
Lyrial laughed at that, and she could have sworn she saw Ciertan hide a smile behind his half-eaten green apple. She then rose a brow. "Wait . . . The princess told me that the Vanyar have golden hair . . ."
Cierdan laughed. "Siraphin is not our father, if that is what you're thinking; although he and my twin do have similar demeanors. He's our uncle. He and our mother are half Vanyar and half Sindar, but our mother inherited her father's platinum blond hair."
And then everything clicked. "So Siriel is your mother then?" He nodded his head with a wider smile. "Your family is so interesting . . ."
This time, Ciertan spoke up. Unlike before, his question was asked with respect and a hint of kindness. "What about your family?"
"My birth parents died when I was five."
The twins' jade green eyes widened. Cierdan spoke up first. "So young! We're sorry to hear that –"
"– I would not have asked, then," finished Ciertan, regretting asking the question in the first place.
Lyrial waved her hands. "It's quite alright! You were only curious."
The younger twin spoke up. "Your eyes have saddened."
The older twin continued. "We apologize. We know the feeling, too."
"Our father, he was a Noldor and a captain of Greenwood before Uncle Siraphin became one."
"He was killed when we were ten years old. It does not bother us as much as when we were younger; but we miss him very much."
"Our mother is slowly fading. She kept strong for us, to raise us."
"She always smiles with us, but there is always that hidden sadness within her eyes."
The twins simultaneously sighed and smiled wistfully. Lyrial placed a hand atop Cierdan's hand, and another on top of Ciertan's. "Have faith. Siriel, for hundreds of years, managed to have rejected fading and the desire to sail to Valinor. She's not leaving anytime soon."
.
.
Thranéal was the first person in Middle-Earth to have graced Lyrial's vision.
The younger elleth had now known the older princess for a little over two months. They run into each other every day, and have spent some of their time together almost every day.
And just as these two ellith sauntered towards the stables, does Lyrial realize the princess' love for turquoise. Pffftttt, more like an obsession, really . . . Thranéal (who currently wore that turquoise cloak with golden leaf patterns along the edges) would always wear this exotic colour; whether as the colour dominating her clothing; or was a portion of her clothing; or, was even an accessory to go with her day's wardrobe. Hell, even her arrow fletching was turquoise!
Why do elves make everything pretty, again? Stepping into the elegantly designed stables, the duo made way towards the beautiful, glowing white Eryn. The stallion whinnied happily as the princess offered him some sugar cubes. She then began tacking the horse. Thranéal insisted that Lyrial should learn the art of horseback riding – not that the younger elleth objected, but she was a little unsure about having an animal in between her legs.
"Your horse seems to enjoy having a staring contest with me," Lyrial pointed out, a little intimidated with the horse's excessive staring.
Thranéal laughed as she finished with the tack and led Eryn out of his spacious stall. "He does that with everyone. On purpose, the cheeky creature." She patted his neck affectionately.
They strolled out onto the open fields. "Alright; a word of warning: Eryn is generally a good horse, but he is quite mischievous at times and will behave like a smartass." Thranéal informed, using a bit of Lyrial's modern lingo.
Said younger elleth twitched. "I shall keep that in mind." It was quite visible to her that the gorgeous Sindar princess tried not to laugh at her reaction. Lyrial placed a black boot-clad foot into the stirrup closest to her and, as Thranéal supported her, she swung her other leg over the horse's back. After adjusting herself atop the saddle, Thranéal handed her the reins.
And so began the instruction, with which Lyrial listened very intently. Thankfully for both ellith, Eryn was in a somewhat lazy mood, and would therefore not conjure up any mischief or sudden bolts of movement.
The elven stallion was trotting about in the open space, albeit keeping a certain close range to his elven princess. Lyrial grew in small confidence with her mediocre riding skills, (hey, it's better than none at all!), but she was still nervous. With visible effort, she turned Eryn around and had him trot to the wavy pale blonde-haired elleth.
Thranéal grinned up at Lyrial as Eryn whickered and nuzzled against her clothed collar bones. "You did well for a first try," she praised as she then fed her white horse a juicy red apple. "But of course, there is always room for improvement. May we do this again tomorrow; same time?"
"Yes, please; I'd like to improve," Lyrial smiled back. Although nervous, she had fun riding the stallion. But now, her bottom felt somewhat numb. She whined. "My ass hurts!"
Thranéal, patting Eryn's cheek, couldn't help but laugh. "Of course it will hurt; it's your first time on a horse! Here, let me help you off." She moved to the side of her horse, extended her arms and secured a grip around Lyrial's waist. Placing an arm around Thranéal's shoulders, Lyrial swung her leg over to their side and landed on the grass, stumbling a bit.
Mumbling a polite, "Thanks," Lyrial detached from the princess and stretched her legs. She groaned. "My ass . . ."
"Yes, you do have a rather nicely toned bottom," Thranéal jested in a posh voice and laughed.
The amethyst-eyed elleth gaped at her in shock, and gave out a few coughs of laughter. "Wha . . . No . . . Stop . . . Oh my goodness, you pervert!"
"I resent that. My observations towards your bottom are not direct, but peripheral."
"Ugh, you win," Lyrial had a blush of mixed feelings: She was gleeful that she can joke around like this with someone; but was also glad that no ellyn accompanied them. Or else double the embarrassment . . . And why do I feel teeth grabbing at my hair . . . ?
"Ah, Eryn! Daro," Thranéal commanded her horse, to which Eryn immediately released Lyrial's lengthy locks and took a step back. He gave a high-pitched whicker and looked at his mistress with eyes of innocence. "Ai, you naughty horse . . ." Eryn just snorted and proceeded to trot around the area, although still close to the ellith.
Lyrial scrunched her nose. "Thranéal, your horse is unpredictable . . ."
The Sindar princess giggled, "Well, I did say that he is rather mischievous. But at least he likes you!"
"Say what? He displays his affection by tugging on elves' hair?"
Cue an amused smile from the turquoise-eyed elleth. "Yes! Do not worry; his tugs are actually rather gentle."
Lyrial felt tingly within her spine; and so she turned around and found the glowing white elven stallion staring intensely at her. She hid behind the older elleth, causing the royal to smirk and roll her eyes. "Lyrial, I have been meaning to ask you. . ."
Lyrial, now standing beside her friend, asked, "What is it?"
"Three days after the Winter Solstice, I will be travelling to Imladris again." The younger elleth nodded, remembering a past conversation about the elven city. Thranéal continued. "Aeluin said that he may or may not join me . . ."
"I'd love to join you," Lyrial smoothly interrupted with a grin.
"Would you like to join – Oh! You mind-reader!"
Lyrial tee-heed. "Well, I'm glad you asked – or rather, were going to ask. I'd like to explore the world a bit."
"Excellent. Otherwise I would have dragged you with me," the princess stated bluntly with a smirk.
"That would sure arouse some suspicion. Hey," the younger furrowed her brow and pointed in the direction behind the older elleth. "Eryn's entering the forest!"
Thranéal spun around and scowled. "I love that horse. But really?" After rolling her eyes, the princess sprinted in her stallion's direction. Lyrial followed suit.
…
Deep into the forest, the ellith caught sight of Eryn and a magnificent elven elk. The creatures seemed to be in conversation. There were other elk just settling around, but it was the one in front of Eryn that grabbed Lyrial's attention.
The elven elk was huge and it stood up tall and proud with it's soft light medium brown fur and large white antlers. The elk blinked it's large black eyes at the ellith, and Lyrial found the whole creature to be glowing a certain light. Thranéal lowered her head in respect for the elk, to which the elk than repeated the action with his head.
The princess turned to Lyrial, who stood a step behind her. "That is Taurhîr, the forest lord. He co-rules with Thranduil, in a way, and serves as his mount at times."
"He is beautiful," Lyrial breathed out. And then she snickered. "An elk? He has an elk? He rides an elk? He has a – I have never heard of something like that before."
Thranéal laughed at her reaction. "Well now you've heard."
Taurhîr moved curiously closer to the ellith, his gaze mainly on Lyrial, as he had never seen her before. Audible breathing releasing from his rounded nostrils, the elk jabbed his head in her direction, seeming to be sniffing the air. Lyrial gazed up at the elk, as it now stood in front of her, sniffing her head. Taurhîr lowered his face and he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, his warm breathing against her skin.
Lyrial brought her hands up and lightly trailed them along the glossy coat of the elk's neck. Oh my goodness; it's so soft! It's softer than soft! Resting her left hand along his upper neck, she brought her right hand towards Taurhîr's face; stroking down the length of his forehead, her fingers then trailing down the side of his muzzle. Ten seconds after playing with his ears, the elk rose his head and he gave Lyrial an affectionate lick on the cheek. He then stepped away, to devote his attentions upon a female elk – possibly his mate.
Thranéal approached her. "I am surprised. Taurhîr generally does not allow many to treat him so familiarly. Especially upon first meeting."
Lyrial rose an eyebrow. "Why is that so?"
"Honestly, I have no idea. He's very picky."
The elks around them suddenly brought their heads into the direction Lyrial and Thranéal faced. Their ears flattened and their hooves shifted. After sensing incoming movement, the elks cried out to each other and bolted through the autumn-touched trees. The ears of the ellith, Thranduil's elk and Eryn picked up the crunching of leaves and twigs.
Taurhîr snarled, clenched his teeth, and took a protective stance in front of the ellith. However, a sudden arrow, almost grazing his cheek, had him rear up. The great elk sprinted through the forest; but unlike his herd who were most likely running to a safer area in the forest, he headed in another direction.
Lyrial shifted, uneasy; and Thranéal turned to where Eryn was, only to find him being held back by an elf. Simultaneously, both ellith looked to their surroundings and found that any means of escape was impeded: Ten elves in a dark, silvery-grey light armour surrounded them in a wide circle, swords drawn. Thranéal had her curved elven broadsword strapped to her back – for unexpected occasions such as this – but she decided against using it, for she noticed an archer in a tree, aiming his arrow directly at her. "Moriquendi," she muttered to a confused Lyrial.
The eyes of the younger elleth widened. "So close into the border?"
The Sindar princess moved to stand in front of her companion as two ellyn atop their horse-shaped and beast-like mounts suddenly sprung from the trees into view, halting eleven feet from the ellith. Lyrial shook and Thranéal flinched as the beasts let out a chilling sound; a mixture of a horse's neigh and a beast's roar.
"So these are the rumoured 'warses,'" Thranéal loudly observed in a sardonic manner at the sight of the two horse-warg hybrids. Peering over her the other's shoulder, Lyrial lightly gasped at the sight of these creatures. They were huge, muscular, quite imposing and intimidating – and very dangerous-looking, too. Their coats were longer than a horse's, but not as "hairy" as a warg's (mind you, she has yet to see a warg herself). Their limbs were sturdy and thin; but in place of hooves were five well-structured finger-tipped claws. The warses' heads were very equine, and they had a wider mouth, holding a neat array of long and sharp teeth – both sets of fang teeth happened to extend at least two inches longer than the others.
"Beautiful, are they not?" an attractive dark brown-haired ellon gave the ellith a sickening sweet smile as he dismounted his warse. His sandy-haired companion atop the other hybrid stayed where he was, albeit kept a steady eye on the ellith.
Thranéal could not help but smirk distastefully. "There is nothing beautiful about monsters such as they." She then dropped her smirk and narrowed her eyes slightly at the dark elf who now stood in front of her, a mere few inches away. "What brings you here, so into our borders?"
"That, my stunning princess, is not of your concern," the ellon smirked mockingly.
"It is so! Eryn Galen is ruled by the Elvenking and the great elk; your kind has no business being here. Leave this instant!"
"Hold your tongue, princess," the dark elf suddenly grabbed her throat with menacing eyes, and she gasped as he squeezed it. He hovered his lips near her ear. "In regards to your current situation, do you really think you have the luxury to command such things? Surely –"
"Let her go!" Lyrial, not particularly caring if this move was foolish, shoved the dark brown-haired elf away; catching him by surprise. Thranéal coughed and took a few steps back from the ellon, who now had his attentions on the amethyst-eyed elleth. Before she could grab Lyrial's hand, Thranéal was held back. A painfully strong arm wrapped around her waist, trapping her arms as well. A sword was pressed diagonally along her neck.
"Damn elleth," the dark elf muttered as he backhanded Lyrial's cheek, causing her to let out a cry. He fisted a harsh hand into her hair against her scalp, and forced her face upwards, scanning across her features. "Ahh, what a lovely thing you are. . ." he cooed as his hand left her hair and cupped her cheek, his thumb stroking along the throbbing area where he had hit her. "I can think of a . . . Pleasurable use for you . . ."
Lyrial's squirming and small whimper had him smirking wider. She tried to step away, but was held back. Another dark elf trapped her arms around her back. She trembled, unable to speak, as the ellon stroked her cheek; his fingers eventually trailing down her jawline, along her neck, and brushing by her chest. His hand stopped at an area on her black breeches, and his fingers rubbed along her clothed feminine sex.
Thranéal panicked, fearing for her friend. "No! You condemn her to death, then! This does not have to happen!" Her squirming against her captor led to a small bleeding cut along her neck.
The ellon laughed and gazed at her. "Oh, but I want to. I care not for the fact that elves can die from forced sex." Turning his attention to Lyrial again; he returned his hand to cup her face, and he brushed his thumb underneath her eye to wipe a lone tear away. His lips then trailed from the base of her neck to her jaw, his tongue leaving a trail.
"Please stop . . . You don't have to do this," Lyrial mewled and tried to escape, but to no avail. These elves are just too damn strong!
The dark brown-haired ellon smiled wickedly against her skin. "Hush, now. I will not be too rough with you . . ." he took a fistful of her hair and ravished her neck; and the young elleth clenched her teeth and closed her eyes at his painful nipping, hoping that this was just a really bad dream. She did not want this to happen again.
Tears began to trail down from her eyes as she felt his stone-hard erection against her lower stomach. He unclasped her creamy light autumn cloak, which swiftly thudded onto the crunchy leaf-filled ground. She heard Thranéal screaming at him in elvish, but the dark elf paid no heed as his fingers de-laced the upper chest area of her dark lavender tunic. He then slowly unhooked the buttons, down to the last one, and brought the fabric down her shoulders. She felt a sudden chill as her tunic was completely opened and bunched up along her elbows.
"No, just stop it! Please don't do this; I am begging you!" Lyrial screamed and kept her eyelids shut. She tried again to move away from his unwanted touches, however her back connected with the chest of the ellon behind her – who had just pulled her dark lavender tunic from her arms, dropped it to the ground, and re-locked her arms in place behind her.
The sadistic ellon in front of her bit at her collarbones as his hands fondled with her black breast-band, which inevitably dropped to the ground. Her humiliation grew at the complete exposure of her upper body, her rosy nipples now erect due to the wind chill.
Lyrial was now openly sobbing. The dark elf's mouth covered her right breast, his tongue flicking at her nipple as his hands roamed down her still-clothed lower body.
"Please stop it!"
His mouth now covered hers, muffling her screams; and his hazel eyes bore into hers with a murderous lust. His left hand caressed her left breast roughly, and he quite enjoyed her failed attempts of squirming away from him. The fingers on his right hand snaked their way into the front of her black breeches, feeling the bare flesh of her delicate sex.
And then in the blink of an eye, the ellon separated from the elleth due to a loud thud. All had their eyes on the corpse of the dark elf archer, who had previously been in the trees. The elves scanned the area after instantly catching sight of an arrow embedded into said elf's temple.
Catching the small party of invaders by surprise, a group of the Woodland elven warriors in light armour suddenly appeared and engaged them.
Thranéal immediately sought the opportunity to head-butt her captor in the face and she simultaneously lifted both arms to elbow him in the gut. He stumbled backwards, clutching his broken bleeding nose; and as soon as his focus returned, the sword of the Greenwood princess slid easily through his neck.
Hearing that chilling roaring neigh, Thranéal spun around to the incoming rider-less warse, it's teeth exposed with saliva dripping from its' large mouth. It was, however, impeded; as a chestnut mare with Captain Siraphin atop her back came charging towards the warse from behind the princess. The golden-haired captain scowled in disgust at the sight of the hybrid and his grip on an elven long-spear tightened. His mare suddenly turned from the warse as Siraphin rammed the spear into the beast's chest, releasing his grip on the weapon as said beast fell to the ground with a dying cry.
Meanwhile, Lyrial was frozen in fear. She was crouched down on to the leafy earth, her arms wrapped securely around her bosom. The ellon that attacked her, and the other that prevented her movement, were not in her sights. She heard her name being called, and so she looked upwards and to her side.
She thought the Sindar king majestic as he rode in with light armour and a trailing royal blue cape atop Taurhîr, with one of his long and slender curved twin swords in his grip. Thranduil, on the other hand, was appalled by this whole situation. Moments ago, Taurhîr literally just ran past the guards and into the palace, and came questionably straight to him. And then he had let his mind wander the forest, communicating with the trees. She gazed up into his eyes with her glossy reddened ones and tear-stained cheeks. He felt a rage growing within him at the sight of her state: Completely bare above the pant-line; a large, purplish bruise on her cheek; bruised and bleeding lips; bruises along her forearms and wrists; and, hickeys along her neck and collarbones, trailing down her chest that she covered with her arms.
After Taurhîr gave Lyrial a brief comforting nudge-and-lick against her shoulder, Thranduil charged the elk forward towards the sandy-haired dark elf atop his warse – who happened to be advancing towards his way, anyway. As soon as they left, Thranéal appeared and was crouched down by Lyrial's side. She expeditiously wrapped the abused elleth in said elleth's creamy-coloured cloak. Lyrial quickly gathered her black breast-band and dark lavender tunic into a ball, against her chest, as Thranéal pulled her to her feet.
Turquoise eyes darkened as their owner pivoted around whilst swinging her lengthy blade, inevitably hearing a cry of pain. Thranéal now stood a few steps in front of Lyrial; and she had a rare murderous look in her eyes as she glared at the familiar dark brown-haired ellon, who cradled his bleeding stump of an arm. The princess held a sadistic smirk as Lyrial's assailant grabbed for his other sword against his hip with his deep reddened hand, liquidized completely with blood. He did not get the chance to unsheathe it all the way, though; for the pale blonde-haired princess also swiftly cut off this arm, leading to another bleeding stump at his middle upper-arm.
Thranéal had not felt such a burning passion to kill someone in a long time and she wanted to deliver such pain unto her friend's attempted rapist. She stabbed her sword into the dark elf's lower abdomen. He could not stop crying out in agonizing pain as Thranéal slowly – oh, so very slowly – trailed her sword upwards, crimson blood spurting from the deep wound.
"Stop it!"
"No . . ."
"Please, just kill me!"
"No . . ."
"Just end it right here, right now!"
A saddened laugh. "I wonder how many you have forced into the act . . . How many ellith . . . Or even human women . . ."
"I haven't! Fuck, it hurts!"
"I wonder if you've even done it to males, too . . ."
"I haven't! Please stop it!"
"UTTER FUCKING BULLSHIT! Did you even stop when she cried and begged you too? When I screamed at you on her behalf? NO! You ignored that! You have no right to request that of me!"
"I did not even complete the act!"
"Do not even give me that! You were so close! So close . . . 'NO' FUCKING MEANS NO! MAY YOUR SOUL BE DAMNED TO JOIN MORGOTH IN THE VOID!" And with that final enraged scream, Thranéal sawed her broadsword out from his right shoulder. The dark elf fell to the ground, blood pouring out everywhere from that long line of a wound. His breathing be damned, for the princess literally sawed through his right lung and ribs. He slowly grew numb, and every breath was such an effort.
He spoke up with ragged breaths and gasps. It was barely audible, so only she heard. "So, you really did survive an attack of dragon fire . . . Not many do . . ." And then he laid still. Touching the side of her face, Thranéal felt knots of muscle and bone as a small portion of the illusion "healing" spell wore off due to her extreme fury. No wonder my face was burning. She calmed down a little after a minute and she grit her teeth in pain as the illusion covered her thousands-of-years-old wound she had received in place of saving Thranduil's life, way back in the First Age.
The battle was over and Thranéal wanted more. She wished he was not dead quite yet, but then she felt a hand on top of her right hand, which gripped onto her blood-filled curved elven broadsword. She looked to Lyrial at her side, and her face softened as all negative thoughts drained from her mind. Lyrial trembled a bit while holding together her cloak. She still held some fear within her eyes, but she still managed a small smile for the Sindar princess.
The older elleth wanted to suddenly cry out her frustrations. How could she have behaved in such a way; such passionately animalistic and dangerously sadistic? And in front of Lyrial, the poor dear! She was an elf: A being with such poise and goodness and light. And yet she behaved like an orc – no worse: Like Morgoth when he tortured the captured Eldar, turning them into the first orcs of Middle-Earth.
Dropping her sword, she turned to Lyrial with tears pricking at the corners of her eyes. "I'm so sorry – You shouldn't have witnessed that."
The younger elleth spoke up weakly. "It's fine . . ."
"It is not fine! I shouldn't have done that in front of you."
"You did what you had to."
"I'm so sorry . . . I'm so sorry . . ."
"Thranéal!" Lyrial threw her arms around her taller friend's waist, and cried against her shoulder. "It's fine! It is alright! You've no need to apologize."
Thranéal let her tears fall against the crook of Lyrial's neck as she wrapped her vaguely shaking arms around the other's shoulders and upper back. She repeated her apologies like a mantra.
Thranduil – already dismounted from Taurhîr – made way towards the ellith. He noticed Thranéal separating from Lyrial, picking up her sword, and walking to retrieve a shaking Eryn. He had just finished giving orders to Captain Siraphin, to take five warriors and patrol the surrounding area. He had also instructed the remaining five warriors to clear up the bloody mess.
As soon as he approached Lyrial, she slowly rose her head and sniffled. She subconsciously tightened her cloak around her upper body as she gazed at the handsome face of the concerned Elvenking. He knew not what he was doing as he just lifted a hand and cupped the bruised side of her face, his thumb brushing away some tears. Re-noticing her bloodied and bruised lips, and the hickeys that disappeared into her cloak, his rage grew from the inside. How dare they do this to her? How dare they force his sister to watch?
"Thranduil?"
The barely audible mention of his name in her voice shook him out of his rage. He had been staring at her without realizing so. He spoke clearly, but softly. "Lyrial . . . Words cannot describe how sorry I am for this to have happened to you."
"It's not your fault, I –"
He couldn't help it. He enveloped her into a hug; the same protective and comforting hug he gave her that day when she sobbed in the courtyard. His left hand held her securely along her shoulders and upper back, and his right hand rested atop her fair head. "This is my realm. This happened close by to the elven settlement. This temporary lack of border protection is my fault. Oh, Valar . . . I knew I should have considered Nithron's counselling above Dûrion's. . ."
The latter of Thranduil's hands gently stroked her head; the action of which slowly calmed her down. Lyrial relaxed into his embrace as Thranduil rested his cheek atop her head.
.
.
Pyn Tithen – Little Ones
Daro – Stop
.
.
*** After Note I – Feel free to drop a review and let me know what you think~! :D ***
*** After Note II – Thranéal's love for the colour turquoise was rubbed off on me unexpectedly from a friend who's literally obsessed with this colour. . . . x333 (SucreTeen123, Anana.C, I know you know of whom I am referring to . . . . . . xDDD). ***
*** After Note III – 'Taurhîr' is a made-up name on my part (like the majority of my OCs). I took the words "forest" and "lord," translated them, and literally combined them as a one-word name~ OH! And the idea of the 'warse' hybrid is a product of my imagination, so to speak~ (= w =) ***
*** After Note IV – Just a note in regards to a plot-line that I'm trying to develop: The situation with the Dark Elves, and the situation with Thran-Thran's assassination attempts a few chapters back, are interconnected. More things will happen in future chapters; but all will eventually come to light~ OxO ***
.
