Written by J.R
Arwen turned away to ride back towards Rivendell. Alone, she had many thoughts racing through her mind. Thoughts of her love Aragorn, thoughts of a life of bliss with him, thoughts of her son. And how his touch brought her a happiness that couldn't be described. Then she had another thought, who was the stranger on horseback in front of her.
"Hello lov," the stranger said.
"Who are you stranger?" Arwen asked with urgency in her voice.
"Me? Oh you can call me sire," he answered.
A look of confusion swept her face as she replied, "I do not understand."
Then she noticed behind the stranger was Merry, tied up and struggling. Looking back at Merry, Spike turned back toward Arwen, changing into his demon form as he smiled, "You will, pet."
"Run Arwen!" Merry yelled, "Run!"
Spurring her horse, she tried to flee from Spike down the path.
"Bloody hell!
Leaning back towards Merry, Spike stared into his eyes sending chills down the small hobbits back.
"You know you're not helping." Spike said, straightening himself once more in the saddle; "Oh well I guess the race is on eh?"
The two horses ran at their top speed as Spike chased Arwen through the forest path. He held the reins tightly as Merry fought hard to stay on the horse. But after a moment, the little hobbit gave in and tumbled to the ground.
Battered and bruised, Merry knew he could not just lie there. Rivendell was close. There he could find safety. Spike, too caught up in the chase did not even feel Merry fall. He was almost upon her now. Once close enough, Spike jumped from his horse to hers, grabbing the reins causing her to stop. Spike gently moved her cloak from her head, and with one arm around her waist he bent her head back with the other.
"Don't kill me," Arwen begged.
"Don't worry pet. I'll bring you back and you'll be mine forever."
With that, he dug his fangs into her throat. The taste of her elven blood was something he had never tasted before and as he drank he could feel her warmth leaving her body. Biting his own wrist, his blood began to pour and as he looked into Arwen's now empty eyes he said, "Okay lov, time for my immortal kiss."
Arwen's lips touched his blood and she began to drink in his essence. Merry's eyes widened as he watched the horrid scene.
"Arwen," Merry whispered before disappearing into the forest before he was spotted.
Arwen fell limp on Spike and after a moment, awoke. Her face was now stripped of kindness and of love. For she now bore the face of a demon.
Arwen turned away to ride back towards Rivendell. Alone, she had many thoughts racing through her mind. Thoughts of her love Aragorn, thoughts of a life of bliss with him, thoughts of her son. And how his touch brought her a happiness that couldn't be described. Then she had another thought, who was the stranger on horseback in front of her.
"Hello lov," the stranger said.
"Who are you stranger?" Arwen asked with urgency in her voice.
"Me? Oh you can call me sire," he answered.
A look of confusion swept her face as she replied, "I do not understand."
Then she noticed behind the stranger was Merry, tied up and struggling. Looking back at Merry, Spike turned back toward Arwen, changing into his demon form as he smiled, "You will, pet."
"Run Arwen!" Merry yelled, "Run!"
Spurring her horse, she tried to flee from Spike down the path.
"Bloody hell!
Leaning back towards Merry, Spike stared into his eyes sending chills down the small hobbits back.
"You know you're not helping." Spike said, straightening himself once more in the saddle; "Oh well I guess the race is on eh?"
The two horses ran at their top speed as Spike chased Arwen through the forest path. He held the reins tightly as Merry fought hard to stay on the horse. But after a moment, the little hobbit gave in and tumbled to the ground.
Battered and bruised, Merry knew he could not just lie there. Rivendell was close. There he could find safety. Spike, too caught up in the chase did not even feel Merry fall. He was almost upon her now. Once close enough, Spike jumped from his horse to hers, grabbing the reins causing her to stop. Spike gently moved her cloak from her head, and with one arm around her waist he bent her head back with the other.
"Don't kill me," Arwen begged.
"Don't worry pet. I'll bring you back and you'll be mine forever."
With that, he dug his fangs into her throat. The taste of her elven blood was something he had never tasted before and as he drank he could feel her warmth leaving her body. Biting his own wrist, his blood began to pour and as he looked into Arwen's now empty eyes he said, "Okay lov, time for my immortal kiss."
Arwen's lips touched his blood and she began to drink in his essence. Merry's eyes widened as he watched the horrid scene.
"Arwen," Merry whispered before disappearing into the forest before he was spotted.
Arwen fell limp on Spike and after a moment, awoke. Her face was now stripped of kindness and of love. For she now bore the face of a demon.