➤𝘉𝘖𝘖𝘒 2
➤𝘈𝘳𝘢𝘨𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘹 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘹 𝘮𝘪𝘭𝘥 É𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘳
60 years have passed and Sauron is coming back more powerful than he has ever been, you are known as Lady (Y/N) of Lothlórien and Messenger of the Valar, the most powerful being in Mi...
I caught the wraith staring off into the distance somewhere, it saw how I had met my end, every moment before and how greatly I had suffered. The torture. I did not deserve any of this. I knew I wouldn't be the same after all of the torment. My mind was twisted and pained.
A headache was creeping up on me slowly, calmly, taking its time before it rendered me weak beyond independence and mad with feverish hallucinations. I shivered. The only warm part of me was covered by his hands, my cloak and clothes were torn, and I was still wet from wading through the river.
I dragged myself to my feet, and searing pain tore through my arm and legs, where I had the symbols, pulsing and stinging with agony. I gasped quietly and quickly lifted my leg. I heard footsteps, and leaped to my feet, only to fall to the earth again. A tall figure with a shadowed face stopped before me, a long cloak and hood of black velvet, the figure got off of the horse and knelt before me. The stranger held his hand out, seeming harmless an--
I refrained from feeling the pain in my chest. I stumbled back and grabbed at the unexpected foe by the shoulders, as I lowered my face, staring at the large and dangerously shiny knife stuck in my chest, but it didn't let go, the figure didn't release the knife. He just stuck it deeper.
How did I not see it?
How did I not feel it?
I coughed and sobbed, feeling the blood dripping out of the wound and nose. His warm hands kept touching my body uncomfortably as if I was the only thing it touched in years. Suddenly the pain was present, my breathing was short, and the agonizing blade in my chest made my limbs jerk, while I was getting weaker and weaker.
My screaming did not cease. I don't remember when I started, nor when I stopped. I was reduced to whimpers and cries. The dark voice calling me over and over again, my ears were engulfed by his powers as my body felt limp. I wasted an effort to stand, my fingers touching the bloodied knife as I looked at the figure for the last time.
I couldn't have been more scared and horrified.
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I didn't break and I certainly did not panic. I was, though, sweating.
My blood and sweat stained clothes were chaffing uncomfortably against my skin. Sweat poured from my forehead. My heart was beating out of my chest. The drums of war and the dark cries were growing louder. I smiled sadly as I pressed closer to her, accepting the pain from the sharp knife, regretting my actions and welcoming all kinds of punishments there ever was.
I deserved it.
I deserve it.
I was awoken harshly by the movements of my body, the hobbits and Legolas looking at me with a worried expression as I opened my eyes to stare at them. I sat slowly, not wanting to talk when Merry asked about what I dreamt, we are closer to finishing this journey, but it also means that my life is also about to finish. I had to remain strong for them.
