Yes, I do realize that it has taken quite some time to update. However, I was in a competition overseas for a month and a half… and forgot my laptop charger. Although—even if I'd remembered it, there wouldn't have been any internet anyway.
By the way I have posted up another story, an intentional, experimental Mary Sue and Tenth Walker to go away from my usual original, original characters. Do read it. Please, don't laugh.
And so…Enjoy.
…
Tera awoke to a dull throbbing of her head. She was by profession a thief—therefore, though there was indeed a pause before recollection came flooding back, it was a pause of mere split-seconds, so as to impart no consequence. Immediately grasping the precariousness of the situation, she resolved quickly to utter no intake of breath other than that which would resemble sleep, or unconsciousness.
Upon a slow upward examination of her body, Tera found a myriad of bruising and pain but (thankfully) no broken bones. The only, and very slight, worry was that of her head, which never ceased throbbing and spoke of possible concussion, which led to the worry that dizziness would cloud the sharpness of her mind. That, of course, could be fatal.
Stupid, stupid girl. The one time you decide to play noble and heroic. Why the hell did you jump in!
In truth, she didn't know.
Come, enough of that. Get out of here alive first, which is no doubt what that bloody elf has done. Ah Gods, what have you done now.
Resolve to escape soon grew stronger than disgust at her stupidity, and Tera concentrated on familiarizing herself with her environment whilst giving no sign of wakefulness.
She found herself held in a kneeling position, but with her head bent unnaturally forwards and her wrists held at eye-length on either side. It seemed to be wood that was holding her in such a way, for the ground was cold with stone and that which held her was both solid and more warming to the touch. Carefully, she moved a hand to discover the length of freedom she had. The wrist came round in a circle, very small, with barely any room. Tera risked peering out through her eyelashes. Already realization had begun to surface, and the beginnings of a chill, hard terror threatened to overcome.
Granite met her stilted gaze, grey and threatening in its absence of information. She slowly moved her eyes forwards, tilting her head slightly. And froze.
It was tribute to the mindfulness of the orc, then, which Glorfindel had derided, but soon roared into view when the object of sadistic fear was at stake. For directly in front of their prisoner they had placed a carefully balanced mirror, of murk and filth, but no less effectively capturing for her eyes the area from the very nape of her neck, to, barely half a meter higher, the glint of new blade suspended above.
A guillotine.
For a long moment breath escaped Tera, escaped through the narrow, caustic dryness that contracted her throat, constricted her heart, contorted her mind. The guillotine. One can prepared for days, weeks, many months for such a moment of execution, may never find the courage or means to still the fear for dignity on that one, fateful day. And here Tera, who had avoided arrest for all her life, was left with no way of preparation, her sight transfixed upon the glint of blade balanced above her neck, and the knowledge that at any moment, at any whim…
"So you have seen our little execution device, little spy," it was a cultured manner of word spoke, that had little in common with the roughness of voice that fathered it.
Perceiving the uselessness of denial, Tera slowly raised her head, eyes concentrated on the speaker, mind concentrating on portraying an indifferent calm.
"It is, as of now, still unused, that guillotine, little spy," he continued, "as of now, of course."
He was large, even for an orc, though less bulky than most. His eyes glowed slightly yellow, slightly orange, stirred with a murky brown so that they appeared subtle in their evil. Yet the sadism of the orc still gleamed enough to send a chilling shudder through his prisoner, even more so than the blood-red pendant that declared him as Sarn, who she was sent to destroy. There was only one other orc in the cavern, shorter in size, and his eyes showed only ill-concealed anticipation.
The executioner, no doubt. And Tera felt fear waver her pride.
"Now, human, we (no doubt meaning his orc and he) were in a bit of a dilemma, and thought perhaps that you could aid us. You see, my orcs insist to me that you come alone, in which case it is really a simple matter of quick execution, which I really quite look forward to. However, I am under the suspicion that there may yet be more of you, or that there may be more coming, and then killing you now may be a little premature. So I offer you this choice:
If you have a companion, speak quickly, and tell me where you last saw him, and we may be able to make use of you. If you do not have anyone, well that is most unfortunate."
Tera immediately saw her opportunity spread out before her. If they kept her prisoner, merely, she would find a way to escape. It would be easy; she was a thief, after all. She could yet survive. And Glorfindel…
He has already gone.
Hadn't he? She knew that she had only a split second to make a decision, before her word could be thought of as lies. She had her life in her hands. Her honor—
It was honor that landed you here.
And pride?
Tera raised her eyes to meet the orc's, and lied.
"I come alone, orc."
Sarn paused, as if in doubt, or maybe simply out of surprise. And then—
"Very well. You will die."
He gave a sign to the other orc, and without a word the latter started to cross the fifty-some meters to the guillotine. Tera could feel even pride, then, slipping away, and though she tried to force her gaze from the mirror, it kept straying to the sight of the blade, just poised, only waiting…
Then, as the orc neared with a satanic sneer, only a few paces away, the sound of sword drawing from sheath caused all three of them to pause. Golden hair peered from the edge of the entrance, almost exactly between the executioner and the orc leader.
Glorfindel.
