His Corrupted Soul [Witch-King x OC]

Chapter VIII : The Light So Loving

"Blessed is the influence of one true, loving human soul on another." -George Eliot

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|SOUNDTRACK|

Love Is Alive - DYATHON

The Palantír - Return of the King Soundtrack

Revelation - DYATHON

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When Inconnu awoke the next morning, she was alone in the bed she shared with Er-Murazor. Immediately and with a near-racing heartbeat she sat up, looking for him and fears entering her mind. Her sensitive ears soon picked up the quiet sound of water, and she calmed down. Er-Murazor wasn't gone, just bathing and she guessed he did not wish to wake her. Inconnu then heard a louder splash of water and the muttered curse that followed it. With a small smile, she swung her legs off the bed, standing and then made her way to where the small, bathing room was.

Her bare feet stepped quietly on the stone floor as she approached the bathing room, the hem of the light nightgown given to her swaying as she walked. When she entered the room, it was obvious that Er-Murazor was distracted and not paying much attention to his surroundings. Inconnu's smile widened, and when she was behind him she reached around him and snatched the bar of soap from his hand. This startled the Numenorean, and he stared at her as she dipped her hands in the water briefly and then lathered the soap between her palms.

"What are you doing?" He asks her as she positions herself more behind him. Er-Murazor sounded both confused and accepting of this surprise, and he leans back into her touch when she begins to rub his shoulders as she replied wryly, "Saving you again it seems."

"You don't need to-"

"But I want to," Inconnu interrupted his protest, "Besides..."

She then slipped her right around him, her right hand moving down and laying flat against his chest. It rested right over where his heart was, and under her hand, she felt a scar. It was a little longer than three inches and paler than his natural skin tone. The scar was all that remained from the mortal strike given by Ghosts Song... by her. Er-Murazor's eyes widened, understanding her meaning and his left hand immediately reached up to grasp hers.

"It was not your fault," He spoke softly to her, guilt underlining his words. "I could not tell you what was needed. I wanted to, you didn't deserve to go through that pain, but I was forbidden to tell you."

"It was still my hand, Mura," Inconnu's voice cracked as she replied quietly to him, "I killed you."

"No." Er-Murazor's voice was firm, and his grip on her hand tightened. "You killed the Witch-King of Angmar, you killed a wraith that lingered so long in this world. In doing so, you saved a prideful man from his foolish choices." Here, he used his right hand to reach up and hold the side of Inconnu's face, tilting his own head to see her better.

"A man," He then told her, "Who does not deserve the heart you have given him." That private smile again. "I do not deserve you, Inconnu."

"You deserve everything," She returned his smile, soft and warm. "I can think of no one better to give my heart too, Er-Murazor. I fell in love with you all those months ago. I fell in love with the man I found trapped by the corrupting power of Sauron. I fell in love with you, Mura." Inconnu then pressed her lips to his, a soft kiss to further prove to him her words. Pulling back only slightly, she then whispered to him, "I love you Er-Murazor of Numenor, and there is no other I will give my heart to."