The Mysterious Fate #wattys2016

Secrets

Please read the author's note for disclaimer and explanation of this story.

I make no claims on Tolkien's works. I also give credit to Cormak3032.

"You're wasted as a journalist,"

She laughed. "But I like journalism."

Marie shook her head. "I think you should sing all the time. You could make it, you know. You've got the talent."

Lana waggled her brows. "Ya think so?"

The warmth of the café shimmered oddly as the walls lost their vibrancy and took on an unpleasant dilapidated feeling. The booth she had been sharing with Marie became a small square cell with walls that had once been orange surrounding them. A shiver ran through Lana despite the heat of the cell. Hands gripped her arms roughly from behind.

"Are you going to sing today, little bird?"

Baffled she looked to Marie. Heart racing she froze. She said nothing to man as a familiar defiance surged within her. She refused to answer and instead stared straight ahead at the cracked paint in the orange walls. Marie was sitting on the ground now watching with an expectant smile as if nothing was wrong. It was like she didn't see the man who gripped her so crudely.

"Go on then, sing…that's what you're good at, yes?" The thickly accented male voice said from behind her.

The touch of a naked blade kissed her throat.

"That's what you do right? Journalist," the male spat on the ground beside her. "Lies! That's all you sing."

He circled her, the knifepoint tracing down her neck to the winged bones above her breast.

"Sing for me now, sweet bird!"

The knife pushed in. Instinctively she drew back but strong hands held her immobile. She started to struggle. Hysteria welled up in her chest. Lana looked to her friend in desperation.

"Yes, she has such a lovely voice," Marie said, still oblivious to the danger.

Finding her voice, Lana yelled. "Fuck off!"

The man laughed. "You hear that? She sings! Lana the bird!"

"Such a beautiful voice."

"Let me go!"

The knife pricked her skin on her neck, but strangely it was her left arm that was hurting.

"Sing for me now, little bird."

"Yes! Sing Lana!"

Lana shrieked as pain bred with fear.

"Such sweet music…"

"Lana,"

"No!" She tried to pull away from the hands shaking her. Throwing up an arm she sought to deflect the knife.

"Lana!"

Her eyes flew open. Seeing a dark haired man crouched over her she nearly screamed. But her vision cleared and she realized who it was and where she was. Aragorn was looking at her with deep concern. She exhaled explosively.

"Aragorn," she whispered roughly.

He finally let go of her arms, which he had to catch in order to deflect her blows. "Are you well?" There was real worry in his eyes.

She pushed herself upright and drew back from him holding her left arm close. She could feel her body quivering; the touch of the knife had felt so real. Glancing down she half expected to see her arm pouring with blood. It wasn't. Closing her eyes, she forced back the moisture that had gathered there.