His Corrupted Mind [Witch-King x OC]

Chapter IX : The Power of a Name

"If the beginning of love was a flavor of ice cream, it would be Rocky Road."-FateMagician

Near the River Bruinen (Loudwater)

The Witch-King, after a few moments of observing Inconnu, leaned closer to her face and spoke in a voice that could only be described as a hoarse baritone. "Nalkren do lat know avhaav name?"How do you know that name?

Inconnu gave no immediate reply, for she didn't even know the significance of the name she had spoken earlier, much less how she knew it. The Witch-King was extremely dissatisfied with her silence, and in expression of such dissatisfaction he clenched his hand tighter around her throat. At this Inconnu gasped softly for breath, but managed to reply in a calm tone.

"I don't know that name."

The Witch-King growled and now also spoke in the common tongue. "Yet you spoke it. How can you not know a name and speak it?"

Inconnu narrowed her gaze slightly and asked, "Why does it matter so much to one as yourself? What is the importance of this name?"

"It is a name that is lost, forgotten, and never was it to be remembered."

"A name that is your own?" She felt the wraith's grip on her throat loosen only slightly, but it was enough of a reaction for her. So, it is his own. Why would he want his own name forgotten? As they continued to stare at each other, well, as best as one can stare into a hood of dark shadows-that gave her pause in her thoughts. I haven't always seen him in shadow... Listening to her intuition, Inconnu then took as deep and even breaths as she could and focused on the Witch-King.

To her surprise and mild satisfaction, his image changed to where she saw the healthful man instead of a robed Nazgûl. Now she could look into dark eyes, realizing that they were a dark shade of brown. Those same eyes, which seemed to show and yet hide so much, widened noticeably when the Witch-King realized what she had just done. In his world of shadows, all others who were not Nazgûl were shades of little to no detail. This was the second time he had ever truly looked upon someone in this colorless world; the first having been the day he first came across this woman in Osgiliath.

Without any forethought, or perhaps through the control of some higher power, Inconnu lifted the hand that was not trapped by the Witch-King's iron gauntlet. To his surprise and shock, Inconnu caressed the side of his jaw with the back of her hand. A shudder went through both of them. They knew each other, but the Witch-King could not even begin to fathom just how or why this strange woman was familiar to him. This lasted only for a few moments longer before her hand no longer caressing but holding his jawline as to make sure he continued to look at her.

Then she said softly, "Your mind is your own Er-Murazor, just as my mind is my own." Now Inconnu pressed three of her fingers to his forehead. "My mind is yours, and with it I free your mind from the corruption."

Something broke within the Witch-King.

The sheer force of this sensation was enough to send him reeling back from Inconnu, slightly stumbling. Inconnu now took in the deep breathes her lungs had been begging for, and afterwards stood carefully. She watched as the Witch-King stood a few feet away, swaying faintly and it was clear he was staring at her intently. Inconnu could not discern any real emotion from his body language, but when the Nazgûl King made for his sword Inconnu made the same move and then their swords clashed.

The naked blades pressed against each other, neither wielder relenting. Inconnu used her other hand to keep her sword steady in the face of the Witch-King's sheer strength. Her wound began to burn and she bit the inside of her cheek to try and ignore that pain. They stared at each other before the wraith rasped in a harsh tone.