[Lets not forget about this plotline! ]

The pass, leading down the cliff, was narrow and steep. Beör only slowly descended the path, hardly able to keep his balance while also carrying Arawen. Ahead of him Maethoriel led the way, with Luthien following her. He had told Luthien to leave the chainmail behind as she needed all her strength and he also had tried to reassure her that Arawen was fine, eventhough he himself just didn't care. He despised being so close to her, let alone carrying her, but leaving her behind was indeed to risky and it could compromise the whole plan.

At times, he stopped for a short moment, to catch his breath or to lean against the rock wall as he became dizzy. Beör forced himself not to look back in these moments. He half expected that a band of orcs would pursue them or that one of the Nine would cross them once more but the pass seemed forsaken and no one thwarted their escape yet. He would only look ahead, to far southern horizon where only dust and rocks and a range of volcanic mountains could be seen. At least, he expected them to go south. The Gate would be fully guarded by orcs and other creatures and the Eye would be fixed on the Black Gate. And in the western pass of Minas Morgul, it was said, that a horrible monster dwelled there. So there seemed nothing to it, but to take the long and dangerous route to Harad. How long the journey would be or how far it was, Beör couldn’t guess. He had hardly any sense of time, since the days were without sun and the nights were starless.

“Luthien!” he called ahead. “How many turns before we reach level ground?”

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O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

_________________


~~Siggy by Lembas~~

[You know how excited I am for this RP! So I'm thrilled to hear that you're starting on your new post! ]

_________________


O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

_________________


~~Siggy by Lembas~~

[ Just so you know, Beör assumes that Arawen is still unconscious.
Oh and I can't wait for your Nurn post! ]

"Great.. Just great.." Beör mumbled as Luthien responded to his question. He knew that after those four or five turns, he wasn't done. Miles and miles of barren wasteland still lay ahead of them, which they had to cross swiftly if they wanted this plan to succeed. He tried not to acknowledge that his exhaustion or thirst, but just continued walking, his mind blank.

"How you must enjoy this.. seeing me like this.. toiling to bring you in safety.” He couldn’t not think, not in the presence of Arawen, even if she was unconscious. It was far easier to blame her, for everything. He loathed her existence and he could not look upon her without thinking of all that had happened.

“To think that I actually cared for you.. that I’ve been worried sick when you disappeared and did not return,” he said gruffly. “How you must have gloated about my despair.. rejoiced in my fear.” For a moment he was lost in thoughts or perhaps memories, hardly realising that he was taking the last turn of the pass. He wondered how Arawen had been able to live with herself for all these years or how she slept at night. All he knew was that he hadn’t been able to sleep decently anymore, since the disappearance of the Arawen he once knew.

_________________


O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

_________________


~~Siggy by Lembas~~

Anger seemed to run through his veins like poison, when Beör heard Arawen talk, realising that she’d heard everything he had said. He clenched his hands into fists, trying to keep himself under control. Ahead, both Maethoriel and Luthien had reached the end of the pass and were too far away to hear him speak.

“No,” he hissed, “you had a choice. A choice to serve and betray all those you once held dear or to refuse and die.” Beör could not look at Arawen’s face, but only see those long strands of hair, yet he knew she was listening. “When I crossed the borders of this cursed land I swore an oath, never to speak one word or to do anything to aid the Enemy, to die if I had to, to take my own life! You had a choice!” As he spoke, Beör’s face was hard and unyielding and a glint of madness shone in his eyes. “Believe me, some secrets I kept –and still keep- would have been of incredible value to him..”

For a moment he stopped speaking and only breathed heavily, as if he had ran a long distance. Again, he was overwhelmed by that base feeling to hurt the woman next to him, to release all his anger and hatred on her, but he managed to resist the temptation. The rational voice in the back of his head said that he couldn’t put up a fight now they had still every chance of being caught.. they still needed her..

When Arawen spoke again, Beör just growled before he finally spoke. “You said that you died long ago? You should have died, when you actually sold your soul. I longed for death, wished for it night after night, but I wasn’t rewarded that privilege.”

They had reached the bottom of the pass now and Beör immediately retreated his arm so that Arawen was left without support. In that moment he didn’t care if Arawen would be able to stand on her feet or fall to the ground. He couldn’t look at her or listen to her, without feeling the absurd urge to strangle her. Her presence made him sick. He walked away from the others, trembling and fell on his knees. As he sat there and calmed down, he couldn’t help but feel that he was slowly, but steadily falling apart.


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Rhys recoiled and slowly scrambled to his feet after Urúvion shoved him away. He could only watch in horror, how Morrigan´s body shook uncontrollably. Never had he witnessed anything like this and if he didn’t know better, he would believe this to be caused by magic. Yet a horrible thought had dawned to him when he had tried to control Morrigan’s spasms: the thought that he had been the cause of all of this. His anger, his hateful words and accusations had upset her, triggered this disease or whatever it was. And to his shock and confusion he realised that he somehow felt guilty and.. worried.

He secretly glanced at Urúvion, who for a very short moment had transformed in a human being that actually cared about the girl in his arms. It was both baffling and frightening to see that this man was capable of crying, that this tyrant could be eaten by fear, now Morrigan was in danger.

He watched how the healer carried her away and he longed to follow them, to know if she was going to be alright. Even though he despised the girl for her cowardice and blindness to the evil that took place here, he now wished that she would not die. She just couldn’t die..

Rhys was dragged from his thoughts when Urúvion suddenly asked the inevitable question. He looked up at the man, whose fear and worry had now turned in an almost uncontrollable panic, and was aware that the wrath of Urúvion could be the end of him. He needed to justify himself, but how could he justify himself when he knew that the fault was his?
“No!” he finally managed to call out. “I.. I just said.. she fell and suddenly started shaking..” Rhys said, not able to make his voice sound less guilty. “It was not my fault..”

_________________


O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

_________________


~~Siggy by Lembas~~

(haha. Poor Maeth has play mother hen)

Maethoriel watched with vacant, distant eyes as the drama unfolded before her. There were other thoughts swirling about her. She watched her children fight and hold knives like they knew what all the pain and anguish was about. Like each one of them lost hope. Then she frowned and glared at thin air, a laugh filtering vaguely through her mind.

"They are not mine," she scoffed in a language lost to the lands of Middle Earth. It was strange and beautiful and something that the god in her head did not quite expect for his proxy to use. She had been gone from his halls so long he had half expected her to have forgotten. Still, as interesting as it was to be surprised by a being he reminded her that they were her's until they were not.

Carry them. He ordered. Lead them.

"I am no leader. I take no sides. Is that not the reason you sent me?" She asked, muttering incomprehensibly as the children still warred in front of her. There were tears in all their eyes and she snarled. These things were best left to the wizard. He would know how to fix them all, just as he knew to fix this world.

You expect much from an old man in a grey cloak. The being in her mind and across the dimensions chuckled. He knew well the begrudging faith the woman put in the Grey Pilgrim. The last being she might truly fear and respect.

The woman broke at the laugh and looked at them all. All their separate pieces floating about, mingling and trying to fling apart. Arawen. Luthien. Beor. She sighed and stepped to them, forcing Arawen away from the other two, now she looked at them all in turn. Her gaze piercing and surprisingly lucid, her mouth set in a stern line. Without her sharp smile it could be seen that another scar marred her lips, from where a knife has split her face on the right corner and a small wedge was missing, showing part of her canine.

"No. It is not, is it Beor? And if it is then he will wait. You will all wait until we are out." She looked to Luthien and then to Beor. "Do you wish to place this one in harm's way? Is your desire for vengeance so consuming that you would sacrifice her? Some ranger you turned out to be. Protect the innocent, save them. Do not condemn her for your own mistakes. Trusting Arawen was a mistake, but so is this. All of this is folly," she said louder, addressing the lot of them. "You are not your own. Not anymore. You both entered this war and you had best see your way through," she scolded Arawen and Beor. "Would you die for your own petty decisions or would you make yourself more?"

She turned to Arawen, and sharp dark gaze. "You think this a noble sacrifice no doubt? A way to free yourself. But it is all for nought. You die here and your life was worthless. You were worthless. Nothing but an idiot woman turncloak who was not strong enough to defend yourself and your people. Escape and rectify it." It was not a suggestion, there was no kind understanding, just her blunt orders.

"And you," she rounded on Luthien. "Another lesson in war. Do not place yourself between the vengeful and their prey. They will not choose you when the knife is in their hand and their prey in the grasp," she said, though the sharp tone Maethoriel addressed the rest with was gone. It was still blunt, but there was no true anger behind the words.

"Now, I helped the lot of you escape and I shall not be held back to die from your stupidity. Come with, down the stair. We shall be through the gates by the morning."

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Heavens no. Hell Yeah.


Set 1: Nurr | Set 2: Me

[ MAETH!! Welcome back! It's so good to see you here once again! ]


The hilt of the dagger, that Arawen forced into his hand, felt cold but Beör did not resist when she set the blade on her throat. He took hold of the dagger tightly, but didn’t put real pressure on it yet and only stood there, for what seemed ages, looking at Arawen’s enraged face. He could not think anymore, only listen to a small voice that whispered tempting words in his ear. Do it.. It will be easy. She’s right, you want to kill her. It is was she deserves, after everything she has done to you..

But suddenly his trance seemed to be lifted by Arawen’s sharp words. A grin appeared on Beör’s pale face, an insane grin, which held no joy or happiness. She didn’t understand, she only assumed..but he could not speak. He could not speak of how important she had been to him, how after such dark times she had lightened a flame of life within him, long ago. How he had found support in her and he had even felt affection for her. All those thoughts were locked up inside him, crumbling everything he felt, only feeding his hate.

“Yes, I forgave your” Beör snarled with flaming eyes. “At least, the man I used to be did. But that man is gone. This is what I am now. I cannot feel ..anything, not forgiveness or love- only hate. I am the product of your crimes, whether they were voluntary or not..”

He directed his gaze at the ground, not able to look at Luthien. He still held the dagger in his hand, but the voice that had spoken so convincingly in his ear had disappeared. He finally stared at Arawen -blankly-, before glancing at luthien, but he did not meet her eyes. He dropped the dagger, as if it was red-hot and said: “There’s nothing that I want anymore. It’s all gone..”

He turned to Maethoriel with a distrusting frown, wondering why this woman who had been so reluctant at first to help them, was now offering some sort advice. Her words, however, did not affect him, and he only replied: “I am no ranger.. not anymore.”

---------------------

At the sound of applause and laughter Rhys suddenly woke up. He felt dizzy and disoriented, not able to place why he had not woken up on his own pallet, but then the realisation of his whereabouts hit him hard and he scolded at himself for dozing off. He stood at the back of the now crowded bedroom of Morrigan, leaning against the white plastered wall, for the moment remaining unnoticed.

Many of the court and household had assembled there, but Rhys could not recall when or why they had arrived. Urúvion himself was seated at Morrigan’s side, who had apparently just woken up. Rhys let out an almost audible sigh of relief and a terrible burden was lifted from his shoulders, which Urúvion wanted him to bear.

Moments after the physician had taken Morrigan to her room, Urúvion had been taken by rage and violence. He had threatened to kill him, but somehow after a bruised cheek and a split lip, Urúvion had changed his mind and forcefully dragged him to the bedroom, where the physician was still tending to the unconscious Morrigan. There he had to stay, as Urúvion remained at Morrigan’s side, sometimes to be mocked or insulted, or just to be ignored, as if he had to stand by and watch what he had done. One thing was perfectly clear; if Morrigan died, he would be finished.

In those endless hours of waiting, Rhys had realised that she was not so different from himself. Although her cage was made of shiny gold, it was a cage all the same, imprisoning her just like his iron shackles, and guarded day in, day out by he who was feared the most. When time ticked away only too slowly and Morrigan’s condition did not seem to improve drastically, Rhys often felt pity and regret for what he had said to her. Only now he realised that he could not possibly blame her for what had happened to him and he wished that he had been wiser. Only rarely he had met men or women from back home and even then they were blinded by their hardship, striving for each other’s ruin, instead of uniting and protecting each other. He should have known better, but he had once again lost his temper, which as usual had caused him even more trouble.

For two days and three night he had been standing there, without sleep or food, slowly retreating to the back of the room, where no one would notice him. At times he felt overwhelmed with sleep and giving in to sleeping seemed so tempting, so easy.. but he had to stay awake.
But now Morrigan was awake and regaining strength, he felt his own strength seep away bit by bit. He tried not to move his hands, so that the chains made no clinking sound. How he wanted to sleep and not care about what would happen. Just sleep..

Suddenly everything faded to black and Rhys collapsed to the ground, instantly quietening the cheerful crowd.

_________________


O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

_________________


~~Siggy by Lembas~~

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~~Siggy by Lembas~~

[ Great post Goldy! I actually cringed while reading it.. ]

It was hard not to look at Arawen's hateful glares or Luthien's disappointed looks. It was hard not repeat Arawen's words literally over and over again in his head to convince himself that he had not been the one to cause the destruction of a life that he once held so dear. He felt like slipping down a slippery slope without anything to hold on to, only falling down.. He had managed to drive away everyone from his life -just like before, just like his father- and as last act Arawen had now taken all that he had got left: his hate.

Arawen had walked away, not willing to listen to anything else after her own monologue, so Beör held his tongue. It was no use to say that he, at the time, had gladly given his life to spare her from such a fate, that, if he had known, would never have allowed to make such a pact and sacrifice her life. No one would listen if he said she could not use him as an excuse for all the things she had done.

And while Arawen regained her strength and grew more fierce, Beör only seemed to become weaker and quieter. Whether it was from Arawen's physical and verbal attack or the long hours of walking with little food or water left, he didn't know. He usually walked at the back of the line as they walked for miles and miles across the barren wasteland, hardly communicating with anyone, except for exchanging a few words with Luthien. He used to believe that she thought highly of him, but now he was not sure anymore. At times he wanted to help her when she struggled, but then he remembered Luthien’s disappointed look in her eyes and the picture Arawen had painted of him, and let her be, thinking that she would be better off without him.

The gloomy atmosphere that lay over the land and his exhaustion made that his days were filled with thoughts of anger and hopelessness, while at night he was plagued by nightmares from which he woke up sweating and shaking. In those night, Arawen's words echoed through his head, torturing him, almost as if to force him to feel shame or guilt.

It was as if he had never escaped from his dark cell. He still felt captured, not able to escape or share whatever he felt or thought. The only thing that had changed was that he got a lot more physical exercise now. Still, there was no light at the end of the tunnel, no future destination. He had turned into a chameleon, that blends into the background, with as only goal to survive.

_________________


O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

_________________


~~Siggy by Lembas~~

Rhys rode through rough grasslands and dark forests as twilight set in. The howling wind made him feel tired, so tired. His cause was one of great urgency, but soon he needed to rest. He was dehydrated and needed water to be able to keep on his journey. The Captain wouldn’t mind. Unlike his brother, he was a kind man, who’d helped him out many times in the past.

He stopped at the nearest fen when entering the one of the forest in Lebennin. Without any caution he dismounted his horse and fell on his knees near the small pool, his mind preoccupied with satisfying the need for water. An excruciating blow to the head send him into a senseless stupor. Pain mingled with his craving thirst and he felt someone nudging his shoulder. He tried to cry out, to make his brother hear him, but no sound came from his throat. He heard a soft, familiar voice, calling his name. A cool liquid touched his plastered tongue, reviving some of his strengths. “Run.. run..” he muttered, still delirious. He took another gulp of the water before opening his eyes.

He was lying on the floor, but he was not sure how he got there. Although his vision was still blurry, Rhys could see that everyone who’d been present in the chamber of Morrigan was now standing in a circle around him. Then he heard Morrigan’s voice a gain and felt how her hand brushed away the hair from his damp forehead. His exhaustion suddenly made way for uneasiness as soon as his gaze focused on the person at whom everyone in the room was looking. Urúvion’s glare was cold, full of silent rage, like a threatening storm that was about to crash down on them.

Despite his grogginess, Rhys immediately tried to scramble up. “Wha- What are you doing?” he muttered softly, so only Morrigan could hear. “I’m fine.. You should not get near me..”

_________________


O children, lift up your voice, lift up your voice,
Children, rejoice, rejoice..



It doesn't matter you don't believe in God, He believes in you.

_________________


~~Siggy by Lembas~~