Lost and Found Again

Chapter 2- Varyannë

She hated herself for that moment of weakness, going from sleeping hell to waking hell making her let out her anger and -as much as she hated to admit it- fear in a moment that it was crucial that she shouldn't have. Now, bound and gagged against a tree in the company of 20 or so orcs, Varyannë cursed herself, wishing she could have kept her mouth shut, allowing the orcs to believe their captive still unconscious. Her eyes flashed around the clearing looking for any sort of mistake, as were common for orcs, which would allow her to escape, but either this particular group was smarter than most or her eyes had grown untrained in death, for she saw none and was forced to return her eyes to the orcs now closing in on her, all eyes blank for no monster cared. Trained not to question nor feel, orcs would never experience the joys of curiosity nor the anguish of pain. Varyannë had once pitied them, but now, after all she had lost, she hated them. Yet another thing that had changed drastically, though perhaps this was just for too many whom she had loved had suffered at their hands.
She gazed defiantly at the orc in the lead who was spitting something indecipherable in black speech at her, whipping out a slightly rusted knife and pressing it into her side, the side where...

no. No. NO.

Varyannë stiffened as the knife cut into her skin, a pleased snort coming from one of the orcs surrounding her as they all watched the blood, a deep velvety red the same as her father's banners had been seeped onto the shimmering fabric of the Valar.

So much for the dress.

She continued to glare at the orc not allowing herself to provide him with the satisfaction of seeing her squirm, as she knew they loved, however this only angered the orcs, causing another to join the first his unclean knife splitting her chest as he snarled something at her which made her vision go red with anger and she yelled rather unspeakable curses back at him, spitting at his face, and causing an angry roar to rise from his throat as he savagely slashed at her face, drawing blood, and making her hiss in pain, encouraging the orc to continue his work. She jerked her head away from him, his blade slicing not across her face but down her shoulder and down to her hip, slicing all of the carefully knotted bonds holding her in place.

Jumping away from the tree, Varyannë shot him a bloody smile and aimed a well placed kick towards his neck, sending him flying backwards where he lay and didn't get up. Varyannë however did not stay to see the effects of her actions, turning instead and running as quickly as she possibly could, blood dripping into her eyes from a cut on her forehead, slamming her fists, elbows, head, knees, and feet into anything that moved in front of her, fleeing in the first direction that opened itself to her. She could hear snarled curses from the mutated throats behind her, and she felt the fabric of her skirt rip in multiple places as she stretched her legs far beyond the dresses intended span of movement. Her heart pounded in her throat her thankfulness at the clumsy anger of orcs quickly overcome by her joy to still inhabit the body which she had so generously been granted once more, an relief that she would not have to face Námo again only a day after being reborn and explain exactly how she had managed to kill herself off again. Her feet pounded the ground and her skin burned, the salty scent of blood stinging in her nose as she ran, her eyes wide and her skin's throbbing unnoticed as it accumulated more and more cuts upon it from the speed with which Varyannë sprinted away from captivity. She didn't know where she was, or if by running she was bringing herself away from the pain or simply signing herself up for more, but at least she was alive, and no longer chained.

The future is ours so long as we are not imprisoned.

She could have laughed, how very appropriate, her father had been right all along. Here she was, at the beginning of another life fleeing from true captors, not ones who had been, as her uncle had insisted, trying to help. They were all blind. Blind and unworthy.
Varyannë wiped her face alarmed to see the mix of dirt blood and tears that appeared on her hand, for surely she thought, it could not be that much blood, surely she was okay overall. Her vision was dim and blurry, her feet stumbling, and she slipped on a root, falling down... and down... and down, surely the way to the ground was not this far. She felt herself slam onto the dirt a few times and then, unable to summon the muscles to stop herself, rolled downhill, coming to stop with a splash in a river.

The water was cool, comforting, cleansing, and she felt her body relax. A face swam above her, asking something she couldn't hear, and with that she lost consciousness.

***Author's Note***
This is really short, I know. Chapter 2 part a?? Oh well. Hoping to have part b out by the end of the week, because no school is beautiful like that.

On a completely unrelated note: happy birthday to my fantastic sister, love her a ton.

The next chapter might actually include plot points (fingers crossed)
Cheers!