Repudiate || legolas

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐮𝐬𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐛𝐞𝐚𝐮𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐮𝐥...

Blood dripped onto his darkened hands. Blackened vine-like lines wrapped his arms, feeling like Thorns pricking at his skin. What once many had deemed beautiful laid in the palm of his hands, mounds of hair scattered about him. The dull jagged edges of a blade and the pain from his head make the process all the harder. For he was disregarded by the king.  he is disregarded. That's what he is. And what he always had been.

How easy it was to blend with man once such a beautiful quality is slashed off. The tips of one's ears could tell such a story, what species they were, what kingdom they come from? But with the tips removed and only jagged edges of an unclean cut, it left a realm of mystery. There was no more turning back. He was forsaken, banished, and discarded. The king repudiated him. He was good. He swore in his life he was good. It was for the good of the soil and the trees he called home. Yet he was banished. He was seen as evil and corrupted.

From his knees to both his feet, leaving behind his tattered past at the exit to the forest he left. Left to find a new home, a new place to care for and to nurture.

He will survive.

Forsaken...

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"Not good. Not good at all,"

"Radagast, there is more here," Awarthon called out, gently petting the fur of a rabbit that was taken. watching as the brown wizard ran past him, he stood up quickly following after. His footsteps quickly moved to match the short wizards' movements. Collecting specimens of the infected in great alarm, he kept track of all his master did. Both were not fond of man, but both greatly preferred the likelihood of animals. They were quite the match, for each other socially. Both do not match the social cultures or understand the point of such things. All they knew is that they tended the forest. Radagast keeps the warlock in tack as he keeps Radagast from harm.

"Sebastián oh dear... oh... good graces," he whined softly, holding the poor animal close.

Awarthon turned around quickly, hearing his master's panic, "Let's hurry back, quickly we need to heal him," the male spoke softly like Radagast, just a bit more rougher Less delicate and a bit more firm. Awarthon took off after Radagast, being his defense, while he took care of the animals. Radagast was selfless for animals, akin to how Awarthon was, but Awarthon knew he had to keep Radagast alive to better assist said animals. Upon reaching the house, Awarthon quickly began reaching for any healing herbs he could find. Humming an old elvish chant, he was taught before exile. The animal was crowded as others came to its aid, "Give him some room for goodness sake," the warlock commanded. Being more of the tough love type, he balanced out the softness of Radagast well.

"Why is this not working... it's not witchcraft, Awarthon, is it?" Radagast panicked. Both quickly pulled off the warlock's gloves, and the black vine line danced along the elves' skin. "Oh, it is... and powerful," Radagast looked at Awarthon as if to say to put his gloves back on. Which he gladly did, for the pain of the thorns that had magic-ed their way into his arms were of painful reminders of his past. Spiders. Awarthon pulled out a blade, only to leave Radagast's side if commanded to. For peace was their first choice. Or for at least Radagast. Peace was never an option if Awarthon could pick. Instead, he boarded up the doors as the wizard chatted, healing the poor small animal. The spiders left.

Awarthon followed the beasts out as Radagast checked on the poor animals who fled into the house. "Where did these monsters come from..." Then a bird flew to him catching his gaze he spoke of where. "The old fortress... Master Radagast!" And just like that, the wizard was off... and well, Awarthon was sent on his own mission

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The wind was strong against the elf face and short blunt hair. It was as if he cut it purposely short as if to spit on traditions. Just like he cut off the tips of his ears and tried to look as un-elf-like as he could. Unable to stop the ethereal glow even when his skin was dulled with dirt. He road to Beorn, for he was told to warn of the sickness so near, and Radagast knew the unstable warlock would be safe there. With someone powerful enough to, if he had to, kill the warlock or give him enough... medicine... to carry on.

The warlock carried a small vial of... medicine... around his neck. One that almost any animal with a keen smell could tell. Blood. Pure, blood with a mixture of protection herbs. Boiled and cooled and treated with care by Radagast. Beorn knew this smell. He knew the dark soul appeared. No, he wasn't fond of the guest, for he did reek of elf, blood, and the lingering feeling of decay no matter how hard the male tried to remove it. The skin shifter opened the door, annoyed at the sudden guest, though surprised that the brown wizard was nowhere. "Tell me. Where is your master?" Beorn asked his voice deep and low as he spoke to the one he called tainted.

"I came to warn you and tend to your animals. There is a sickness in the forest, and it attacks life from mushroom to rabbit. I'm sure you would want me to treat your ponies and crops, master Beorn, " the warlock spoke with a smoothness to his voice. He got off the horse he had rode. His voice was still quite used to having more of a calm whisper with Radagast. As well as speaking softly to animals, humans or humanoid beings were strangers to him after so long of being away. Awarthon held a firm gaze, keeping in his mind to show emotions amongst men. They rely on things he didn't understand, such as words being seen as rude despite being truthful, eye contact, and behaviors. Social cues.

"Stay here for the night, for I doubt Radagast would want to risk that vile of yours running dry," the skin-shifter commented, leaving the ex-elf in the living room as he left to chop wood for dinner. Awarthon gathered his bag from his sled outside, taking what he would need to help treat the ponies. Beorn knew of Awarthon's condition. The darkness that Awarthon possessed held an evil to it. One that the warlock learned to possess the powers of, only to gain an unsatisfactory blood lust after each spell casted. Beorn knew why Radagast sent the elf here when things grew dim, that he was to kill Awarthon if it came to it. If the vile ran dry and he still had more to do. Boern had become accustomed to saving up blood for Radagast and Awarthon, for they would pay him with an alliance. They would send Awarthon to treat the illness of the animals and trees nearby, such as now.

Awarthon sat on the floor, on his knees. off came his gloves and put the mixture from the staff with a few other things to boost the immune system into the water. Doing the chant that was explained to him before Radagast and him split. Feeling Beorn behind him, he turned to face him. Standing up, seeing the glass of a liquid that was a mutual knowing of hatred for what Awarthon had to do. "Thank you, Beorn," he said softly, putting the red liquid to his lips. Feeling his energy gain back from the spell, he watched as the thorn-like lines that decorated his arms stopped stinging and swaying faintly. He pulled back on the gloves and fixed his sleeves, "I put it in the water. You can use this for your livestock and even your crops," he said softly. As he finished the disgusting yet delicious liquid. Only Radagast and Beorn knew of this illness, and Gandalf had figured it out. Yet he didn't want to ask. The topic of his life seemed to be sore.

Beorn gave a nod as if to dismiss him. Which Awarthon gladly obeyed. Having stayed with him plenty over the 100 years, he wandered as Awarthon the Forsaken. And another 50 years of being Awarthon the Forsaken. And now, another 300 of being the apprentice "Rest now, until sent for," he instructed. Beorn picked up some of the water and poured it over his crops and animal feed. Dark magic being used to treat dark magic was a strange thing. Yet Awarthon was full of surprises he had gathered. A warlock, but a good warlock who used the darkness that had tainted the elvish powers for good.

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1473 words...

Hello, my lovely leaves. Hope you enjoyed my lovely Awarthon. His situation is quite the unique one. Sorry if this isn't 100% lore accurate. I'm doing my best to keep it fun, fan fiction, and accurate, lol^

As always, don't forget to add to reading, vote, comment ideas, and so on

Edited: 🗡 ✨️

[hopefully it's good, and it's updated for flow]