The Life One Must Choose
I don't own anything related to King Arthur or Lord of the Rings. Only what I have created is mine.
This is a rewrite for my story I Don't Belong. I decide to write this because I realize that there was a lot more I could have put into this story, so I am. Please tell me what you think.
Chapter 1: A Long Away from Home.
The smell of death seem to linger in the air in the small prison a young elf maiden was caged in. Her fair skin's glow was faint, tainted with blood and dirt. The once beautiful dark brown hair was tangled and dirty, and her ice blue eyes now the color of the sea before a storm.
Wincing as she tried and to sit her back against the stonewall, but the two day old wounds from a wiping kept her from doing so. She cursed quietly in her elvish tongue. In any normal situation her wounds would have healed with a day or so with the proper rest, but rest rarely came and she was being beaten daily.
Larien thoughts wonder to how she gotten into the dreadful place she now sat. Lord Elrond had thought there was a need for more healers at the battle on the outer edge of the Rivendell forest. She and several others had been assigned to leave with the next batch of archers that where heading out. The battle was where she wanted to be, but being stuck in the healing tent was the last place she wanted to be. Why Valar had given her the gift of healing, Larien did not know, because she would have rather been fighting.
The head healer sent her off to find a near by stream to get water, because they seem to be running low. Larien had rode Meldiron to the small stream that was just a short ride from the camp. She had gotten off the horse and went to grab the water skins when Meldiron took off jerking the reins out of her hand. "Meldiron!" Larien couldn't remember anything past that point, she woke up in this small cell with a major headache and a large bump on the back of her head. That had been several weeks ago as far as she could tell, Larien had lost track of the days. She did quickly realize that somehow she was no longer in the realms of Middle Earth.
Carefully putting her back against the wall Larien let herself go into an uneasy sleep, but it didn't last long, sensing someone walk up and kneel down next to her cage Larien turned her head to see a man who gave her a twisted smile. Wishing she had the strength in her to run, but Larien wasn't even sure if her legs would support her weight so she didn't move. If she didn't get out, Larien knew she might start to fade, elves where not meant for such a dark life.
The man opened the door to the cage and went to grabbed Larien, but with what little strength she had, she pulled away. This only made the man pull her out of the cage harder dragging her knees across the dirt ground. Larien winced as rocks dung into her knee. Another man had joined them and one taking an arm each, then drug her to the far wall where they chained her hands to the wall. Both men seem to have a lustful gaze in their eyes as they spoke in their own language to one another.
Looking over at the woman who had been placed in the cage next to her's only a few days after she had, the woman looked just as bad. Larien knew what was coming, because it always went the same way each time. The men would beat her, while asking what she thought were questions, which she did not understand and then they if they chose to would have their way with her. The men would then throw her back into the cage and drag out the other woman treating her the same way. Whether or not the woman understood what the men said Larien was not sure of, because she never spoke a word. Larien knew there was only one other human in with them, a small boy who was caged across from her's.
Felling the weight of the cuffs around her wrist, Larien didn't move, for her will to do so had left her. She did not care anymore what happen to her whether she lived or died.
The two men continued to talk in hushed tones glancing at her every now and then.
Commotion of some sort caught Larien's attention she couldn't place where it was coming from, glancing at the men in front of her she could tell that they could not hear it.
Moments later when the sound of a door being busted in echoed down the stairway, the two men looked at each other with a somewhat panicked look on their faces. The man who stood nearest to Larien's cage turned and grabbed her arms and quickly removed the cuffs. Larien let out a small cry her arm had been dislocated only the day before by the same man. Footsteps then could be heard coming down the stairs. Not a moment later men appeared carrying their swords, they where knights. Larien felt the man holding on to her arm let go and she fell to the floor and let out a cry in pain. Receiving a blow to the stomach as the man kicked her back towards the wall knocking the wind out of her. Coughing trying to get her lungs to fell with air, tears began rolling down her cheeks as she laid there finally getting her breathing under control.
Lancelot walked into what appeared to be a small dungeon and what met his eyes shocked him. Death seemed all around him, but that was not what caught his eyes it was the woman who had been kicked by one of the 'monks'. He pushed the other monk out of his way Lancelot saw the woman staring up at him with a pleading look in her eyes. Images of his younger sister ran through his mind for a moment. Lancelot then turned and looked at his friend and commander, "The work of your God, is this how he answers your prays?"
Frustration flashed through Arthur's eye, "See if there are any others still a live."
Turning his attention back to the woman on the floor Lancelot went and kneeled next to her. The woman looked frightened, but he couldn't blame her, she looked she has almost been beaten to death.
"You shouldn't have sat foot in this holy place," a 'monk' as he pulled Lancelot away from the woman.
Larien hadn't the slights idea what the man said, but it seem to anger the curly haired knight. The knight then took his sword and put it through the man and then turned his attention back to Larien. Stared at the man as he kneeled in front of her, she wasn't sure whether or not to trust. Glancing over at the dead man, Larien wonder if the knight would do the same to her.
The woman looked up at Lancelot with a confused and frighten look. "I am not going to harm you," but the woman only looked at him in confusion. He realized that she must have not spoke Latin.
Sensing that she should trust him, Larien nodded at the knight. "Help?" but she knew the words never met her lips she felt even to weak to speak.
Stronger arms were around her now caring her and there was someone in front of her. Larien could hear the wind and the rustling of the trees. And then she the wind one she face and the snow as it fell, Larien closed her eyes, the light was too much for her eyes. Taking at deep breath Larien let the fresh fill her lungs at that moment she felt safe. She fell into a world of dreams and rest.