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Author Topic: The Danger of Innocence  (Read 2890 times)


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The Danger of Innocence
« on: April 27, 2013, 06:00:00 AM »
His first try failed... and ended rather poorly. Yes, the Avari had interrogated the Lord of Lorien and even managed to kidnap him but... He didn't get the answers he was seeking. And not only that, Galadriel knew he was holding him a little earlier than he would have wanted. Though, luckily, he hadn't been there when she arrived and he had made sure that Celeborn's memory had been lost. Most of the Orcs had perished under Galadriel's wrath but, he had to make some sacrifices to gain what he wanted... Now, he had to find a new plan to figure out Lorien's secrets. It has to do with Galadriel, which shouldn't come much to a surprise... she is powerful and I know that, but what can it exactly be... He had been sitting in a chair in one of the better standing buildings, elbows on the armrests and hands in front of him, fingers laced. He was pondering what his next move would be, what he could do to get the information he was seeking...

"Beriadan, sir... There are rumors going about of Celeborn having a younger cousin. He is in the marchwardens, maybe he has what you are seeking?" Came in the silver eyed female's voice, the girl crouching in front of him out of respect as her head was lowered. "Hm? He has a younger cousin? How interesting..." Though he hadn't told Eira about Celeborn and what he had done to him... she knew he was looking for something in Lothlorien. What good with this do me... what can I do... He pondered a little more, eyes narrowed as he tried to debate on what his next move would be. Suddenly, it came to him, standing up quickly which made Eira instantly look up at him with curiosity. "We'll play a different game with him... unlike Celeborn, we'll have to play this game smarter, and safer..." He began to pace a little, Eira finally getting up and watching him carefully, waiting for his command. "We'll kidnap him as well... but, this one will go a lot differently, and more smoothly... Celeborn will likely be upset which will cause Galadriel to get upset once more... but, they won't know what will be coming..."

Eyes narrowing, a slow, dark grin filled his handsome features, Eira slightly confused with the vague description. But she figured he wouldn't tell her, not when he had Timnarian on his side now. "Eira, you are dismissed, your job has been done, and done well... but this one calls for someone else skilled in areas you aren't necessarily skilled in. But thank you for your job well done..." She bowed and left, giving a roll of her eyes since she had already known he was going to ask Timnarian for his help on this one. She went, letting the assassin know Beriadan had plans for him before completely leaving Osgiliath, figuring she'd go find amusement elsewhere, maybe go get some drinks or something... Beriadan, in the mean time, had been telling Timnarian these knew brilliant ideas of his, letting him know that it was to seem as he, himself, was kidnapped by the assassin. He would beat him up, make it look real and as if he was actually kidnapped while he went to get this boy, Celeborn's cousin. Then, he would simply pretend he was looking for help in saving Mirkwood from the horrors that it was currently facing. This was a brilliant idea, much better than aiming for Celeborn himself and he was proud of the idea.

It had been a few weeks after he had talked to Eira and Timnarian about his plans, Eira having left to do her own business, seeing as she wasn't needed. He had met with Timnarian and some Orcs to begin his greatest act. He was tied up, and then the beating came. He spit out some blood out to the side, looking to the Orcs as his nose was bleeding, he had some cuts on his face and his skin was slowly starting to bruise. The rest was to be done by Timnarian, so that it would look as if the assassin left the Orcs to do as they pleased until the halfling came back. He didn't care of the wounds he got, he had some of the healing potion previously used on Ginger and Eira. Timnarian was given free range to do as he pleased so that it would look as real as it could be. Not just that, it might make the marchwarden speak quicker, which was exactly what he needed. No matter the pain, it will be worth it in the end if Lord Celeborn's cousin actually squeals... A grin took his dark features before he relaxed against the wall that he had been leaned against. He couldn't help but give out a laugh, head leaned back as he stared up at the sky. Might be a bit... tricky bringing him where I brought Celeborn but no one else will find us... not easily, at least...

He relaxed now, staring at the stars that filled the bright sky before slowly closing his eyes and taking a breath. Now, to wait... wait for his prey he was hoping would spill Lothlorien's secrets. Mirkwood was a great excuse, he was quite lucky that it had been so dangerous. He just needed to act concerned for Mirkwood, and plead to know how he could possibly protect it from 'Timnarian' and whatever may linger in Mirkwood... have safety like the great Lorien... it was brilliant...

(Hope this is alright and that you enjoy it, Otter~! ^^ )


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #1 on: April 28, 2013, 12:09:00 AM »
Three weeks. That was what it had taken for Timnarian to finally figure out how to accomplish the task Beriadan had given him. The plan itself was brilliant but carrying it out was a little easier said than done. After the plan to coax information out of Celeborn had failed, not that it came as any surprise to the assassin given the elf lord's reputation, Beriadan had devised a far more devious and admittedly fun plan that had Timnarian laughing in delight. Oh how this was going to be fun. Still, to pull it all off, he would have to find a way to capture the boy and that was no easy feat since entering the woods of Lothlorien was impossible for him. He hadn't even known where to start looking to be honest. It wasn't as if the marchwardens had posted a schedule and location out for everyone to see, not to mention the wardens rarely ever traveled alone, so a subtle game of deceit was needed to accomplish his ends.

He'd finally devised a plan that had worked well enough though it had cost him a few orcs in the process. Every day for three weeks he had sent an orc or two to 'scout out the area' around an edge of the forest. Each time they were easily slaughtered but he watched the whole affair from a distance and took note of the figures who stepped out of the woods to examine the bodies. He knew the boy he was looking for was young, that much he'd been told, and so slowly he narrowed down which part of the forest the boy had to be patrolling until at last, just a few days ago, he'd spotted a young elf who seemed to be leading the other men with him. The boy had some vague familial resemblance to the elven lord Celeborn and Timnarian figured that must be his target. It was confirmed when one of the elves with him had mentioned the name Arathion.

Having finished reconnaissance, the assassin met once more with Beriadan and aided in setting up their plan. He didn't like the fact that he would be leaving his employer bound and beaten while he went to fetch the boy but he had little choice in the matter and did as he was told. Timnarian watched coldly as the orcs beat on the Avari elf but when one of them reached to claw his face, he quickly found a sword thrust through his ear. There was an unspoken line that would not be crossed and the orcs had just reached it. They looked up fearfully at the cold stare of the half-elf before deciding it would be best to find somewhere else to be. "You'll have plenty of sport later," he growled at them. As they left, Timnarian knelt down beside Beriadan and smiled at him with the closest thing the assassin could manage to affection. "Now then, let's make this look real. Do tell me if you need me to stop," he said in all seriousness.

Timnarian had never met a person he had an issue with harming but the elf before him was the closest thing to it. He had come to respect Beriadan and the title of employer was slowly becoming replaced with Lord. That fool Thranduil did not deserve the throne he claimed and he could not see the rightful ruler in the elf he had relegated to his advisor. He would learn soon enough the folly of that choice. Timnarian made quick work of the wounds he inflicted on Beriadan, ensuring they weren't too deep and the cuts were clean and fast to lessen the pain. He'd have plenty of chances to take his time when it came to the boy. The assassin stood up to survey his handiwork and nodded. A fairly sizeable gash in Beriadan's leg, his tunic torn, a heavy cut across his left shoulder. They were superficial things but enough to get the point across.

Satisfied that he'd managed his work well, the half-elf left in all haste toward Lothlorien once more. He had in tow a small pack of orcs to include two wargs. They thought they were the raiding party but had no idea they were the bait, lambs being led to the slaughter so that Timnarian could once more draw out the elf he needed. He had to bring enough of a force to lure them all out lest one stay back and try to pick him off once the trap was sprung. As they approached the forest edge at last, Timnarian held back and dismounted his horse out of sight. He crouched down behind a sizeable rocky outcropping and motioned the orcs forward. It didn't take long after they began trying to enter the woods for the first arrows to begin flying and the assassin worried at first that the elves would simply pick them all off without coming out to fight.

The slightly cowardly nature of the orcs played to his advantage though as the surviving members of the pack began backing away and trying to flee. Timnarian could see the shadowy figures as they dropped from the trees and gave chase. The elven hatred of orcs would not allow them to leave any of the brutes alive and his earlier tactic of sending out the random orc against their defenses had likely stirred up their paranoia about letting any of the offenders go. He counted six elves in total and his eyes finally tracked and found the smallest and youngest of their number. He slipped the blowpipe from its leather holster and slid in a poison tipped barb. He would have to take them out one by one. Unfortunately the poison wouldn't likely kill them as the armor they wore would probably soak up enough of the drug to prevent it all from getting into their bloodstream but it would be enough to take them out of the battle and render them useless.

As one of the elves came close enough to target, Timnarian lined up the shot and let fly. He smirked as the elf clutched his neck, stumbled, and then collapsed to the ground. A second elf ran to his aid and was similarly struck down. The half-elf quickly shifted positions to the other side of the outcropping lest his location be found and as he came around the corner, he quickly snapped off two more darts which found their targets. He could hear the shouts of alarm from the remaining two elves but the dying screech of the last warg falling beneath a blade told Timnarian his time had almost run out. He could only hope his appearance would come as a surprise to them. He rubbed a little dirt on his face, tucked the blowgun out of sight, and palmed one of the poisonous barbs for use. Panting and putting on as frightened a look as he could manage, the assassin stumbled out from behind the outcropping and staggered toward the last two elves. "Oh thank all that lives! They pursued me for some miles and I thought to seek refuge in the safety of Lorien. I managed to lose them for a moment but I didn't think I would make it to the woodline until you showed up."

The two elves rushed toward him and Rothonen, the second in command, took Timanrian's arm to support him. Arathion blinked at him in concern. "Are you injured? We can take you back for healing."

The half-elf leaned against Rothonen's shoulder and chuckled. "I've a better idea. Why don't we take this back to my place?" His voice dropped to an icy chill and Rothonen reached for his knife but Timnarian had the advantage of surprise. He'd slid out a knife behind the elf's back and now plunged it deep into the guard's ribs while twisting out and slapping the poisonous barb into Arathion's neck.

Arathion stumbled as his legs instantly began to go numb. "Rothonen!" he cried in fear as he watched his friend and fellow guard fall in agony to the ground. Timnarian was on him at once, twisting his fists into Rothonen's outer garb and cinching it tight about his throat. The young elf ripped out one of his fighting knives and tried to run to his friend's aid but his fingers would not grip it properly and the blade fell useless to the ground. As he tried in vain to drag himself across the distance between them, he watched in despair as his friend's body finally went limp. "Wh-why is an elf...working with...with orcs?" he asked through quickly numbing lips. Timnarian merely smiled at him as the world slipped into darkness around him and he slumped to the ground.

The half-elf thought about simply slitting their throats for sport but he'd no sooner trussed up the marchwarden than he heard the distinctive sound of a shout in the distance. The noise of the battle had brought help sooner than expected and he scowled at the unfortunate shift in luck. If he was to keep his prize, not to mention his life, he would need to make all haste out of the area. Timnarian hefted Arathion's limp form over his shoulder and raced back to his mount.

When Arathion finally came back to consciousness once more, it was to find himself laying on his side, staring into the crumbled remains of what had once been a stone wall. He blinked in confusion for a moment before the memory of what had happened returned to him. He'd been sure as he'd passed out that he would not wake, surely the murderous half-elf he'd seen would have killed him, but he realized with a sick feeling in his stomach that the attack had been meant to take him captive instead. He tugged at his wrists and confirmed that they were indeed bound behind him rather firmly. It would take some measure of time if he was to find a way free of the rope. A noise behind him caught Arathion's attention and he rolled over quickly, expecting to see his captor, but instead he found himself staring into the battered and bruised face of another elf. The man's dark hair marked him as an Avari and his fine clothing, or what had once been fine clothing, marked him as some sort of diplomat or member of a court. He had to be one of Thranduil's people judging by the type of decoration on his tunic.

Blood crusted on the elf's pants and shoulder from larger wounds but the bruising evident across his cheek and the split lip looked just as painful and Arathion winced internally. They were both captives apparently and one look at his new companion told the young elf all he needed to know about what was in store for him. He glanced up at the sky and then looked around but there was no sign of anyone but the two of them. In the distance however, he could hear the telltale screeching of orcs so getting out wasn't going to be as simple as getting up and walking away. He rolled his head back over to look at the other prisoner and struggled to sit up. "You are of Mirkwood?" he asked quietly so as not to alert the orcs to his wakeful state, "I am Arathion, of Lothlorien. What is your name and have you any idea what this is about?"


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #2 on: April 29, 2013, 11:30:00 PM »
Beriadan was sure he wouldn't definitely be hurting in the morning, despite the potion he had gotten from the sorceress for said occasion. The Orcs really didn't hold back, which wasn't something he was expecting since he told them to make it look as real as possible. Though what he hadn't expected was that one would actually claw at his face of all things. One eye had been closed, awaiting the stinging pain though it had never came. Instead, he heard a yelp of pain coming from said Orc and as his gaze went up, he noticed that Timnarian had acted quickly to stop the Orc. He relaxed some as his trusted assassin had decided to take matters into his own hands now. He couldn't help but to give the man a smile, a small nod of appreciation coming from him. It hadn't been every day that someone earned such a genuine smile from the Avari, usually always holding a fake smile to keep his strings where they needed to be at. Nor has he ever held such appreciation for someone like he did with Timnarian. He had been glad to have run into the halfling when he had.

Though Eira had been his best archer, and she was an excellent fighter, she wasn't trustworthy like Timnarian was. Yes, he appreciated what she did for him from time to time but it wasn't like the assassin he has come to hold close to him. After his trouble with Thranduil, Beriadan never had been able to find anyone else he could confide in, that he could truly call a comrade. They were alike in many ways, and he wouldn't give him up for anyone else. "When I told them to make it look real, didn't expect that they would go so far as that..." He muttered to his friend who had told him to let him know if he needed to be stopped at any point. He smirked a little at this before giving him a nod and letting a sigh fall from his lips, relaxing some. He knew he could put his full trust in Timnarian, and he appreciated that above all. He had been loyal, and would do anything for Beriadan if he needed it... that was all Beriadan could truly ask for...

He closed his eyes before preparing himself for what was to come. The slashes were quick, and they had stung yet not as bad as they could have. The Avari had a tolerance for pain, it wasn't something new to him seeing as he had been in war before. He didn't make a sound at all as Timnarian got the job done, and he didn't bother to stop the man. Though, when he had been done, bright greenish blue hues glanced to the halfling with a seriousness. "Well done... at any point, if you must harm me when we have our captive, do not hesitate... he has to believe I'm a captive as well, and it won't be quite believable if you simply toss me to the side. All my trust is in you, Timnarian... I know you will not fail me..." He told him before letting the assassin go, letting his head hang as he could feel the slight stinging coming from his open wounds. All this better be worth it, he wasn't going to let himself look like a complete mess for nothing. He probably wouldn't be able to face Thranduil while in this condition, too many questions would arise. Though, he could always allow his Lord to think that he had been captured, would make him seem more innocent if anything were to go wrong at any point in time.

He didn't doubt that Celeborn or Galadriel themselves would come for the boy, and if they did, Thranduil will surely hear about this little incident. If that were to happen, he would have to keep them all believing he had been captured and tortured, especially after his little incident with Celeborn. This might get a little messy in the end... Timnarian would have to make sure to disappear if Lady Galadriel were to come... I wouldn't appreciate them taking out my best man... He thought quietly to himself, the only thing he could do while his comrade went to go fetch the marchwarden. He knew that what he had Timnarian do was tricky but there was no doubt in his mind that he could do this flawlessly. After all, this was the man who kidnapped the Prince of Mirkwood... if he could manage such a thing, there was no doubt in Beriadan's mind that he could manage to do anything. As for Eira... I still have my suspicions about her... though, Timnarian knows what to do with her if she so much as show the slightest sign of betrayal... She isn't too happy with his watchful eyes... He couldn't help but chuckle at this before glancing around himself, knowing the Orcs were out and awaiting Timnarian as well. He has given the halfling full charge of what went on today, he was in complete control of the situation ever since the moment the Avarin Elf had been tied up.

In no time, the assassin had once more returned and had the young marchwarden with him. He gave a small nod to him as if to say 'job-well-done' before letting his head droop, awaiting for the young Elf to finally stir awake. When he had, Beriadan kept quiet, allowing the young man to look around himself, to finally notice the Avari. After a second, he let a grunt escape his lips, lifting his head to let it fall back against the wall that he was now leaning on. He glanced towards the blond elf, noting the similarities he had with Celeborn quickly. There was no doubt in his mind that this had indeed been the young elf that Eira spoke of... Well, hurray, she did her job well. All thoughts left his mind when he heard the screeching of the Orcs, giving a jump as if to have been startled by them. He turned quickly, trying to find the sound the winced a little before hearing the young Elf finally speak up. His gaze slowly went to him, a more gentler, yet still powerful, look on his face than what he generally held. "Yes... I am of Mirkwood..." He spoke, a hint of pain noted in his voice to further his little act.

Just like Beriadan had suspected, this young Elf was indeed Celeborn's cousin, Arathion. "Yes, why of course... I am Beriadan, Lord Thranduil's advisor..." He frowned a little at his next question, his head hanging a little now. "I... I am not quite sure... It must be of our lands, I assume. I was asked of Mirkwood, and of my Lord. Though, when I refused to speak- Well... I assume you already know what happened..." He had been implying the wounds he had received and soon looked up to Arathion once more. "I do not know what he wants of Mirkwood, nor his intentions... But it must be harm against my Lord and people. I cannot let that befall them, I would rather die than let anything happen to Lord Thranduil... though, I do not know of a way to keep them safe on my own..." He let a sigh escape his lips though, winced as if it had hurt him to even do that. He let his head fall down once more, hoping that his little act would slowly start baiting the boy. All he had left was for Timnarian to return and further on their little plan.


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #3 on: April 30, 2013, 01:37:00 PM »

Arathion was not overly versed in the hierarchies of the other elven kingdoms but he had heard the name mentioned a few times in relation to Thranduil and knew he was in high company indeed. A royal advisor may not be royalty himself but his position was not to be underestimated in its importance. Any being a king could turn to in times of confusion for advice and clarification was someone not to be taken lightly. It was a truly honorable position and Arathion dipped his head respectfully as his companion introduced himself. The pain in the Avari elf’s voice was evident and the young marchwarden cast him a sympathetic look, wishing his hands were free that he could at least go over and check the man’s wounds.

A frown tugged at Arathion’s mouth when Beriadan put forth his guess on why they were there. He supposed it made a certain amount of sense to abduct him on that note, as unpleasant a thought as that was. The woods of Lorien were far too protected to grab one of Celeborn’s advisors and while Arathion had heard about his lord’s abduction, he knew his king had not divulged any information to his captors and was not likely to be an easy target a second time. The vile creatures that had taken him once had already paid a high price for their insolence though the one who orchestrated the whole affair remained at large.

Word had been spread among the wardens of a dark haired elf whose name was unknown and they had been bade to keep an eye out for anyone of that description. Arathion thought of the half-elf who had captured him and he could guess that if they weren’t one and the same, then they must be working together at the least. It was bold beyond reason to attempt a second kidnapping. He wished he could say that he didn’t know why he was targeted specifically but he knew better. As a distant relation to the elvish lord himself, his captors obviously felt he might have more information they might need than the average marchwarden. His frown deepened. If this monster thought he was going to get any more information out of him than Celeborn himself had given, he was a fool. I would rather die, Arathion thought to himself.

He looked up as Beriadan spoke aloud the very words that he himself had just been thinking and he offered the other elf a reassuring smile. They were kindred spirits, both intent on protecting their realms and their people. It was no wonder that Thranduil trusted this man. His secrets and life were safe in Beriadan’s hands. “He is a coward and a fool to think this will grant him anything,” Arathion said with as much conviction as he could. He knew his companion had already determined not to say anything but having been alone at the mercy of this brute, it had to have been difficult to hold his tongue and Arathion was determined to impart as much of his support and strength to Beriadan as he could. He had to keep the other elf’s spirits up as much as he could, had to bolster his hope, so that they could see this through.

It would be hard, the damage already evident on Beriadan’s face said as much, but Arathion knew that as a unified force, they could withstand this until help arrived and he had no doubts it would indeed arrive. Their captor had made a mistake in putting them together because a prisoner alone would have been easier to break. He felt an immense sympathy for the other elf at the sadness and concern he could hear in his voice. The people of Greenwood, for he refused to call it Mirkwood on account that it seemed rude, did not have the same protection as Lorien. Truly he lived in a fortunate realm as the Lady Galadriel was one of only two elves in all of existence who could claim spells which could so perfectly keep evil at bay. Lord Elrond as well had such a spell and both Lorien and Rivendell were safe from encroaching darkness, their people living in peace and protection. How unfair then it seemed that the people of Thranduil were without that luxury.

“I am certain that your lord is honored to claim one such as yourself among his people,” Arathion said earnestly, “It is clear you are loyal to him and to your people. Do not lose hope. Your silence has already kept them safe though you have paid a price for it. It will not be in vain. Both your lord and mine have no doubt begun a search for us. We need only hold on until they arrive.” He smiled reassuringly. His faith in Celeborn could not be shaken and he was utterly positive his cousin was already on the way, it was just a matter of surviving until he could find them. The young elf’s thoughts were interrupted by a slow clap and he whipped around to find the half-elf leaning against the crumbling remains of the opposite wall, his legs crossed at the ankle and a mocking smile on his face as he applauded.

“Such bravado,” Timnarian teased, “Truly as one would expect of a marchwarden of Lothlorien. Why, I have chills.”

Arathion’s eyes narrowed and he set his jaw, determination and defiance written on every inch of him. “What would you know of bravery? You are a coward and a traitor to your own people. I have little care for your opinion of me and you have made a grave mistake in taking both myself and Beriadan. It will gain you nothing.”

Timnarian chuckled derisively and began stalking closer, his eyes fixed on the young elf. “You are SO naïve. I’m not sure if it’s more adorable or pathetic.” Arathion scowled at him but bit back the retort on his tongue as the assassin knelt down next to him. A hand snapped out and grabbed Arathion’s chin in a vice like grip. “And who do you think is going to rescue you, boy? No one has any idea where you are. Both of you are utterly alone so if you desire to live, you may want to rethink your attitude.”

Arathion jerked his face away and smirked. “You know nothing of our lords. Even now you are being hunted and they will find you soon enough. It will only be a matter of whether it is Thranduil or Celeborn who takes your head first.” He knew he was baiting the assassin, knew he was likely getting himself into trouble, but he was determined to keep the half-elf’s attention on him and far away from the already inured Beriadan. He was still a marchwarden and that meant he was a protector. He would defend his woodland kinsman with his life if it came to it.

The blow that split the bridge of his nose was unexpected and he grunted as he toppled over and hit the ground. “Foolish child,” Timnarian spit, “there is only one head here you should be concerned with.” A boot slammed into his back but Arathion would not allow himself to cry out. He wasn’t about to give this monster the satisfaction. Instead he grunted through gritted teeth and turned his head to glare upward. Timnarian’s face hovered over him, a smug grin on the half-elf’s features as he knelt down and condescendingly patted Arathion’s cheek. “Now then, with all that out of the way, let’s get to business, shall we?”

A long thin knife appeared in Timnarian’s hand and he held it up with the silent promise of what was to come. Arathion could feel his heartbeat speed up and his stomach clench but he kept his outward façade calm and cool, his eyes flicking from the knife back to Timnarian’s face. Torture was going to be inevitable at this point but he would face it with courage and as much dignity as could be mustered. He refrained from flinching as the tip of the blade was drawn softly down his face before it dipped below his chin and tilted his head back. “I’ll get straight to the point,” the assassin said with a snort of amusement, “I cannot enter Lothlorien. Why?”

Arathion smiled despite his discomfort. “Perhaps it is because my Lord and Lady do not wish scum to enter their lands. You should ask them before they kill you.”

Timnarian flicked the knife down so quick it felt more like a snake strike than the movement of anything on two legs and Arathion took in a sharp breath as the blade sliced a clean line into the top of his left thigh. It burned but he breathed out the pain and looked defiantly into the assassin’s eyes. “I asked you a question, boy. I will continue to ask it. Every time you fail to answer me, I will harm you. I can keep this going all night, if need be, that is up to you.” The half-elf let his eyes flick up to where Beriadan sat against the wall and he grinned. “Just ask your friend. He can tell you what your defiance will buy. Perhaps I should demonstrate.”

Arathion jerked his knees up swiftly and caught Timnarian in the ribs, knocking the assassin over. He rolled to his feet with the movement and tried to scramble backward but he’d barely managed to get upright before he was doubled over with a blow to the stomach and a few sharp punches to the face. Timnarian wrapped his fingers in the boy’s tunic and all but hurled him against the opposite wall, missing Beriadan by a foot. Arathion slumped down, his shoulder throbbing from the impact, but he managed a glare out of the corner of his eye none-the –less.

Timnarian tugged his shirt back into order from their little scuffle and rolled his neck with a pop. “I can see you want to make this difficult. So be it. You have no idea how difficult it’s about to be.”

 With those words of warning, Timnarian stalked out of view and Arathion felt his stomach drop. He knew his actions were going to have major repercussions but he’d had to get the assassin’s attentions off of Beriadan lest he think of hurting the elf again. The young man slid down the wall and turned his back to it to sit beside Beriadan. He let out a pained sigh and looked over at his companion with utter earnestness in his eyes. “I do not know what strength I have, Beriadan of Mirkwood, but I will bring all of it to bear to protect you. I will keep his attention from you until assistance arrives.” He offered the other elf what he hoped was a comforting smile while his own mind was already dreading the cost he would have to pay for such a promise.

OOC: OH GOD THAT WAS LONG. O__O I’m…I’m sorry. I hope it’s an entertaining read at least. >__>


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #4 on: May 03, 2013, 05:34:00 AM »
Beriadan lifted his bowed head, staring at the young Elf as he spoke. "Yes... No matter what he may do, I would never betray Lord Thranduil..." He had a serious look in his eyes though, his words weren't true at all. He could care less for Thranduil at this point. The man was his enemy and the one thing keeping him from taking the throne. That was the Avari's true determination; getting what he wanted and not caring for the rest of the world. Though, Timnarian had been someone he wouldn't want to lose, seeing as he had been his close comrade. If he were to take the throne, he wanted Timnarian there to be his advisor. The people of Mirkwood probably wouldn't accept this at all simply because of their dark nature but, they would learn. He would rise from the flames of the dark woods and he would show them that he was a great leader and king. If they wouldn't accept him even then? Well... people were expendable... if you can't get them with kindness, you have to get them with brute force and that wasn't something that Beriadan was afraid of.

A sincere look took his battered face as he was told that Thranduil was likely honored for having him in Mirkwood. He looked touched by the words but that sadness never left him. Before he could even speak up to the young Elf, the sound of clapping could be heard and both Elves had looked quickly to see who it was. And there he was, Timnarian had probably been there for longer than Beriadan had expected but, he was glad he gave him time to slowly bait the boy. If he didn't believe he was in need of help, he probably wouldn't even dare to speak of Lothlorien... Though, who knew. Maybe he wouldn't trust him enough with that sort of information but that wouldn't stop the Avarin Elf from prodding and trying to get the answer in whatever way he could. Brute force wasn't the answer this time, at least not from himself. Timnarian had already been known in Mirkwood for having kidnapped Legolas, he didn't need to hide behind a mask. As for himself? No one knew what he was up to behind the Lord's back and no one knew, nor remembered, of him kidnapping Celeborn. He had no memory of the dark Elf, and he was glad of that.

Though he was proud of Timnarian, he couldn't verbally word that, not around Arathion at least. As he stared upon his comrade, his eyes narrowed in on him as he allowed the young elf to speak. Beriadan flinched as if to go to the marchwarden when the half-elf had grabbed his chin though, stayed put. He listened closely before Arathion spoke up, a frown slowly forming on his face. He knew that the boy was trying to keep Timnarian's attention on him so that he wouldn't get hurt anymore than he already had. The bravery of a marchwarden never failed to amuse the Avari, especially when being faced against someone like Timnarian. That was what the assassin seemed to enjoy though, since he could show them just how far their bravery could get them. Truly entertaining... Though, I can already tell he won't talk. At least, not to someone like Timnarian... On the inside, he had been grinning, despite the glare in his eyes. Though, with the blow to Arathion, he had winced and turned away as if he could just feel the pain that must have caused. He looked to him with a frown once more,  as if knowing the pain he must have been going through just for him. It really didn't surprise him though, seeing as marchwardens had lived up to protecting others.

The Avarin Elf had flinched at the sight of the knife, as if he was going to get up and try to stop 'their' kidnapper from doing anything to Arathion. But with a wince, he had stopped all movement, acting as if the wound on his leg was causing too much pain for him to move. Of course, that wasn't true at all. After having gone to war, something like these wounds really wouldn't be enough for him to stop from moving... of course... the young marchwarden hadn't been aware of that. Though, when Timnarian spoke of Lothlorien, he had raised a brow, giving the assassin a questioning look before his gaze went to Arathion with a little more interest now. Well played, Timnarian... though he won't speak, this will give me a reasoning to ask about Lorien's protection... He was chuckling on the inside but no sound came from him as he waited to see what would come from Celeborn's cousin. He closed one eye as his comrade had sliced at the Elf's thigh, glancing back with a small frown. As Timnarian spoke once more, Beriadan felt that it was his turn to speak up, to ensure Arathion would continue thinking he was on his side.

"Fool... I do not know what you speak of, but Lorien has the strongest forces... surely you cannot believe there is anything there keeping Lorien safe other than the wardens?" If Timnarian would have addressed him, he wasn't given the chance as Arathion had sent a blow to his ribs. This actually did surprise the older Elf some, not having expected Arathion to fight in such way. Though, he was no match for the assassin, at least not when he had no weapon and had been tied up. I must remember to thank him later for going through with this... Suddenly, Timnarian had tossed the boy his direction, Beriadan moving slightly as the boy hit the wall. He sat up quickly once more, looking towards the marchwarden with some concern as the half-Elf spoke up once more. As he was leaving, the Avari's eyes had been narrowed on him before looking back to Arathion with concern. "You mustn't worry over me... I don't want the pain befalling upon you as well..." He replied with a gentle tone, that concerned look still in his eyes. So, he had this young man eating from the palm of his hand, did he? He had him exactly where he wanted him now....

He let a little sigh escape his lips at the smile, shaking his head some before offering the smile back to him. "You are a brave one... Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel are quite lucky to have you in their ranks." He leaned his head back as he relaxed some, staring off at the wall Arathion had once been at. "We will get through this together... I will not let you go through all the pain simply to protect me." He glanced at him for a second, letting the silence fill the air before he finally spoke up once more. "What that man said, about Lorien, is it true? I know of Lorien's well guarded walls, kept safe by the marchwardens as yourself... though, he had said he couldn't enter Lorien... what does that mean?" His voice had been filled with curiosity before glancing to him. "Pardon me... I am letting my curiosity get the best of me... I ask because of my own land. If I could find any way to protect it, no matter what it may be, I would want to do so... that is why I dare to ask..."


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #5 on: May 03, 2013, 03:09:00 PM »
Arathion smiled around the split lip he’d received with the last few punches to his face as his companion looked over him with concern. Beriadan had already been through worse by the looks of it so it was brave of him, and much appreciated, to insist that he didn’t want the marchwarden to continue putting himself in harm’s way. As kind as the words were though, they only served to cement Arathion’s determination that he would not let further harm befall Beriadan if he could help it. The folk of the Greenwood were kin so far as he was concerned and he would do no less for any of his own men or any of Celeborn’s advisors for that matter.

Beriadan’s complimentary words about his Lord and Lady only made Arathion smile gratefully and he bashfully let his head fall forward. He did not feel he deserved such flattering words given that he’d only been on the job for a few years and was still in the learning phase of things. Being kidnapped by a madman also wasn’t the highlights of his career either and he felt foolish for having let his guard down enough to allow such a thing.

"We will get through this together... I will not let you go through all the pain simply to protect me."

Arathion looked up solemnly at those words and offered Beriadan a soft smile. [color= A9F5E1] “I am but a marchwarden. You are the advisor to a king. It is my duty to protect you. I would be dishonored to let you take harm which I could prevent.”[/color] He leaned back and eased his head against the wall behind him, looking off in the same direction as his companion but his eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular. Instead his mind dragged up the image of Rothonen’s limp form laying on the grass with a knife still in his side. Were they all dead? Had he led every one of his men into slaughter within the space of a few years? He wondered then if he even WAS still a marchwarden.

He’d never heard of any other member of the wardens who had managed to kill off his whole team while still in the learning phase but he wasn’t concerned with his reputation so much as with the guilt that gnawed at him over whether it was his fault that they had perished. He knew now with a fair amount of certainty that he’d been targeted specifically because of his relationship with Celeborn but he wasn’t sure what this half-elf brute thought he was going to get out of him. One did not become a marchwarden without years of disciplined training and immense loyalty. He would never willingly betray Celeborn. Not for anything.

Beriadan’s next words caught Arathion’s attention and he glanced over to the elf sitting next to him. Did the people of Greenwood truly not know of the power Lady Galadriel held over Lothlorien? He wasn’t sure if her powers and strength of magic were common knowledge and he hesitated to say anything at first. When Beriadan met his eyes though, the young elf felt a pang of sympathy. His own people lived in relative peace but in Greenwood, the encroaching darkness had slowly eaten away at the woods until, rumor had it, the people of Thranduil were afraid to wander too far from their own home. Arathion had never known that fear. The woods of Lorien were bright, cheerful, and alive, a breathing thing that welcomed and rested those inside her borders. He could not say so for Beriadan’s home.

It must be frustrating indeed to not be able to protect one’s home. Arathion couldn’t imagine the despair that would cause. He had known his whole life that all he ever wanted was to protect and defend his people, to not be able to do so would break his heart. Yet he could not offer Beriadan the hope that he was looking for. [color= A9F5E1] “I’m afraid you will not find protections for the Greenwood which equal that of Lorien or Imladris,”[/color] he said quietly, [color= A9F5E1]“I am sorry for your people and wish that were not so.”[/color] The screech of an orc caught his attention and his head whipped over in concern. He could not risk them hearing him speak of such matters. It was one thing for him to trust in and comfort a fellow captive but he would not allow their enemy to know such things lest they find a way to abuse that information. He would never forgive himself if the Lady Galadriel was targeted by this filth, not that he felt they would succeed anyway. She would likely simply smite them and the thought of that brought a smirk to his face.

[color= A9F5E1] “Those who would seek to be enemies with the Lord and Lady of Lorien are foolish indeed,”[/color] he whispered so that only Beriadan could hear, [color= A9F5E1]“for they will find no safety within our borders nor doorway to enter. The monster is correct. He cannot enter there. No evil thing can.” [/color]

OOC: Don't worry, Beriadan's ALMOST there. Arathion just can't spill it that easily. ;) Keep digging, Beri. You almost got it. XD


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #6 on: May 16, 2013, 08:38:00 AM »
What a brave little boy... putting others before himself and thinking he could stand what Timnarian can do. If he thinks that Beriadan looks bad, he's in for a surprise when Timnarian finally does come around to hurting the boy. Yes, the Avari had a higher status than Arathion, and one could only guess that someone who is meant to protect others would think the Elf would think like that. Though, it simply amused him to watch as this Elf would risk his own life to keep him protected... Luckily, his life isn't up for gamble just yet, seeing as he wasn't looking to having Celeborn on his trail. He needed to keep his true intentions hidden from this boy and his cousin, the reason he had even given Celeborn that potion when he kidnapped him. Though that didn't mean he couldn't muse over the fact that he was willing to do anything to keep him safe. How... adorable... He thought in almost a taunting way as suddenly a kind, grateful look came over his handsome features. What a great actor he was... stringing along yet another person who he could care less about.

"You truly are brave... though, I can't say I agree with you. You have a meaning to those of Lorien, you are who protects them. I cannot let someone lose their life simply to keep mine safe. No life is greater than another, Arathion..." He told him before he let himself relax some, wincing slightly at the stinging that had came from the wounds that were slowly starting to dry. He couldn't help but lick at the blood that had been on his opened bottom lip, a slight stinging coming from the motion. He couldn't imagine how he looked right now, and surely it would bring questions up in Thranduil's mind if he were to see him like this... unless Celeborn and his people escorted him back to Mirkwood then Thranduil would know what happened. That would actually be a great cover for him, being kidnapped by Timnarian, the person who kidnapped their dear prince. With that in mind, he should surely stay around for Celeborn to find them. The potion he gave him should be strong enough to where he wouldn't remember him by face... it should keep him form remembering at all actually.

He couldn't help but glance towards Arathion as they both had fallen quiet, wondering what could be on the boy's mind right now. Surely something was eating away at the young Elf, Beriadan could tell simply by looking at him. The Avari was very good at reading people and surely knew that the marchwarden had been worried. He could only guess it must have had to do with the kidnapping, maybe Timnarian killed some of his group and that's what was eating away at his mind. I wouldn't put it past him, I did give him free range to do anything he wanted as long as this boy came back in one piece... Plus, Timnarian is a predator; he has a thrill for the kill... His gaze soon left Arathion as his thoughts once more wandered off to the plan, and he couldn't help but hope that he could get something out of the Elf. If it wasn't necessarily the exact reason it was safe, he at least wanted to be pointed in the right direction... All Beriadan knew is that it most likely had to do something with Galadriel, especially with the power she used when she went to go retrieve her husband. But what could the Lady of Lorien possess that would?

He had been given the other a compliment, trying to possibly knock down any walls he may have and get him to further trust him. If the marchwarden truly knew anything about Lothlorien, he wouldn't speak to someone who he didn't trust, no matter how desperate Beriadan may act. He needed to gain his trust... something that usually took a long time to do, he had only moments. It wouldn't be long before Celeborn and or Galadriel found out about Arathion's kidnapping. I'll have to try and squeeze whatever information I can out as soon as possible... He thought as Arathion had spoken up, mentioning that he would never be able to find the safety that Lorien, even Imladris, had. So, the land of Imladris had been protected just like Lorien? Either... it wasn't Galadriel who was keeping both lands safe or she was much more powerful than he first thought.

Beriadan knew little to nothing about the city of Imladris, never having gone there himself or really needing to go there for any reason. This was definitely new and useful news to him. "I wouldn't?" He questioned, a frown forming on his face as he sighed and looked down away from the Elf. Well, at least he knew for sure that Lorien was protected by something, more than he got from Celeborn. And now he knew of Imladris, which is always useful information to find out. At least he wasn't getting nothing this time around... "The monster is correct. He cannot enter there. No evil thing can." The words rang in the Avari's mind, circling around as he thought about what he had just said. Of course he already knew he couldn't enter Lothlorien, it was just the matter of why he couldn't. "Yes, I have heard of the Lord and Lady's power... I wouldn't want to be the fool who would make enemies of them." Those bright eyes looked towards Arathion as he said this before looking away once more, making himself comfortable against the wall they had been leaning on. It was a little uncomfortable, being where he was but he wouldn't complain, not when he felt he was getting close to finding his answer.

"If... If it isn't too much to ask... what is it that does keep both Lorien and Imladris safe? I have never heard of such thing; I know well that Lorien is one of the safest Elven lands though, never have I heard that evil may not enter it." He stared back up across from them once more, a sad yet still determined look on his face. "I would give anything to protect my home the way Lorien is... It is horrid knowing that my people have to live in fear, that they may not travel far in our once beautiful land because something is dwelling there..." His eyes narrowed a bit as a frown had grown on his features once more. "I would give my life if it meant my land would be safe, as well as my King..."

(Sorry for the wait, hun! Hopefully it's enjoyable and worth the wait! ^^ )


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #7 on: May 30, 2013, 08:01:00 PM »
Arathion smiled sadly at Beriadan’s words though he didn’t agree with them. There were some lives far more precious than others, the Lord and Lady of Light were worth a thousand of his own life and he would spend his last breath a thousand times and more to defend them, but he didn’t bother to correct his unfortunate companion. Arguing the value of life in a place such as this seemed a silly point and it wasn’t like he didn’t appreciate the sentiment even if he didn’t necessarily feel the same.

Concern flitted over the young elf’s features as he watched Beriadan settle against the wall. It was obvious that the wounds he’d suffered were hurting him badly and there was a frustration in not knowing how to intervene and alleviate that pain. Thin cuts crusted with blood lined the councilor’s legs, chest, and arms while his fine boned face bore a myriad of bruises, minor cuts, and a split lip. As he swallowed, Arathion could feel his own injuries and imagined he looked much the same at this point. His left cheek was throbbing and he could see the blur of swelling in the lower corner of his eye. A quick run of his tongue over his bottom lip yielded a sharp sting and the taste of copper so he was sure his lip was split as well and the movement tugged at a cut on his right cheek where the half-elf had split the skin there.

It was frustrating knowing that Celeborn would find him like this. He’d been incompetent enough to get captured in the first place and he felt frustratingly helpless at the moment. Giving up wasn’t in his nature though, he was far too young and still innocent of the world to accept his ignoble fate that easily, and so he began silently working at the bindings on his wrists in hopes of loosening them as they continued their conversation. Arathion met Beriadan’s gaze and he knew he’d sparked the other elf’s curiosity. And why not? If their roles were reversed and it were Arathion trying to save his homeland from the encroaching darkness, would he not also be curious and desperately seeking anything which might aid him?

Still, Arathion hesitated at Beriadan’s question as he measured the wisdom in telling what he knew of Lady Galadriel’s magic. The Avari elf’s words about his homeland and the pain evident in his voice spurred Arathion on however and he let out a sympathetic sigh. [color= A9F5E1] “I cannot imagine the pain you must feel knowing your lands are not safe. If I could give to you this power, I would but it is not in my possession.”[/color] A thought struck him and the boy brightened visibly. [color= A9F5E1] “When we are freed, however, then I will speak to the Lord and Lady on your behalf. I do not know why it has not already been done but the Lady may be able to teach Lord Thranduil the spell she knows. For truly it is magic which holds evil at bay upon the walls of Lorien.”[/color]

He turned his eyes out dreamily toward the opposite wall with a half-smile, his voice low enough to avoid being overheard. [color= A9F5E1] “It is said that Galadriel holds some spell, some magic power, which she uses to protect our borders. She has shared it with Lord Elrond, her kin, that he might also protect Imladris. No evil may enter either of their lands.”[/color] He turned a hopeful smile to Beriadan. [color= A9F5E1] “She may be persuaded to teach this magic to our woodland kin in the Greenwood. It may be that Lord Thranduil does not possess the magical ability to cast such a spell but perhaps the Lady will cast it for you. It would serve the same purpose.”[/color]

Arathion tried to impart his own hopefulness to his companion. The Lady was kind indeed and while he could not understand why they hadn’t tried to help the people of Greenwood already, he could not imagine that she wouldn’t move swiftly to help them if she knew how truly bad their lands had become.

Rothonen winced as he was all but carried up the steps to the dais of the Lord and Lady. He had insisted on coming to find them the moment he had awoken despite his injuries. The healer at his side frowned unhappily at being forced to walk his heavily injured patient up the steps but arguing with Rothonen had proven pointless as the elf would not be swayed.

As they finally came to the top of the steps, a royal guard announced their arrival and Rothonen caught sight of the glowing forms of his rulers. Guilt tore at him over what he saw as a major failure on his part and he would bear the brunt of whatever punishment Celeborn would see fit to bestow on him. Finding his young charge was the most important thing though and they had no time to waste. He bowed stiffly to them both, the bloodied bandage at his side restricting his movements, and when he was bade to speak, it was with a raspy voice from where he had been all but strangled to death.

“My Lord,” Rothonen said quietly, his eyes downcast in humility, “forgive me but I bear harsh tidings. Our squad was attacked on the eastern border by a band of orcs. I fear the random attacks along the edge of our homeland were not so random at all. I believe they were an attempt to discern the location of our squad.” He cleared his throat dryly. “I believe it was an attempt to locate Arathion, your cousin.”

Rothonen took a breath and dipped his head lower into a bow filled with shame. “We fell into a trap, my Lord. We killed the orcs but most of our squad was felled with poisoned darts. A dark-haired half-elf came out of hiding and pretended to be injured. We made the mistake of letting our guard down and the half-elf showed himself to be the leader of the attack. I was…removed from the battle,” his hand went to the bloodied wrap around his ribs, “and…forgive me, my Lord, but I believe the half-elf took Arathion. I do not know for what purpose. It was my duty to defend and guide him. I have failed you, my Lord.”


OOC: Timnarian is going to be back next post so if there's anything you want to ask Arathion...might want to do it now. >__>


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #8 on: August 06, 2013, 10:39:00 PM »
OOC: Loki or Otter (or both of you) feel free to have the guards with Celeborn do whatever. Also, you can have Celeborn find them if you want.

IC: Celeborn had been informed that one of his subjects had come to Lothlorien severely injured and unconscious and had been awaiting the day when he awoke so he could him what had caused the injuries. He had noticed his younger cousin hadn’t been around but assumed that Arathion had been busy. But now that one of the wardens that was close to Arathion had turned up injured, there was this nagging worry in the back of his mind.

He had been in the main hall that was part of the talan that he shared with his wife, speaking to various Elves about what was happening in his realm. But his head snapped up when one of the royal guards announced that Rothonen needed to speak with him and he watched with concern and slight awe as the warden limped over towards him and bowed. He inclined his head, frowning at how serious he sounded.

His lips thinned at hearing that his squad had been attacked by orcs, that had apparently been trying to find out where the squad was. He wanted to ask why they were looking for them when Rothonen said that he believed they were  looking for his cousin and he felt his heart stop, staring at the warden in apprehension but he stayed silent, letting Rothonen finish speaking, lips a grim line.

He strode forward after Rothonen finished speaking, eyes serious as he placed his hands on his shoulders. "No! You have not failed me, nor have you failed Arathion. You have let me know and for that I am grateful." He turned to a few guards, including Haldir. "Get a group ready to find my cousin. We leave within the hour." His tone was brisk and business-like as he strode out of the room to put on armor and grabbed various weapons, including his battleaxe. He did make sure Rothonen was escorted back to the healers so he could rest.

Within an hour, Celeborn and a decent-sized group of guards and hunters were off, on horses to move quickly. At the sight of the attack, they dismounted and figured out the direction that the orcs had taken his cousin. They remounted and headed in that direction, riding fast to get there before anything happened but not fast enough to injure the horses. He scowled as he recognized Osgiliath, though he wasn’t sure why he had such hard feelings towards the place. He silently gestured for them to dismount and for some of the group to stay with the horses. The rest he gestured for to follow him as they spread out to find their Lord's cousin. They went in pairs and Haldir stuck by Celeborn as they kept an eye out for Arathion and any sign of his attackers.


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #9 on: November 23, 2013, 12:46:00 PM »
Indeed, one of Beriadan's worries had been how to keep the darkness from his once beautiful homeland and once more bring light to the beautiful woods; but he knew exactly what was the cause of the darkness and that wasn't his main worry in finding out what kept Lothlorien so safe. What he didn't know was that sometime in the near future, he would find out what was the object of Lorien's protection... maybe not from Arathion, but someone else. Though, he didn't know his own future, so he wasn't aware of this knowledge and he had to squeeze out whatever the young marchwarden knew out of him. Sadly it didn't seem like much, it seemed that the Lord and Lady of Lorien had little trust even in their own kin... Smart... if they did trust Arathion with this knowledge, he would have just told the enemy exactly what was being so safely protected. He knew it wasn't any magic that Lady Galadriel might have known, not that he didn't believe in her power. Of course, he heard of what exactly had happened to his army when the Lady came for her Lord.

"Ah, magic... I have heard that the Lady of Lorien is indeed quite powerful... It must be such a relief that she has such power, especially when it comes to protecting one's land." He tried to relax himself some, letting a little sigh escape his lips as if he was relaxing a little with these words. "If you could manage to get the spell for me, or even the Lady to cast such spell on Greenwood, I would dearly appreciate that... anything to push back the approaching darkness, the smallest thing that I could do for my Lord... that would be all I could ask for..." Those bright greenish blue hues went towards Arathion once more, holding some sort of sincerity that he actually didn't feel. Boy, the dark elf has managed to grow up to be quite the actor lately, especially if he was able to even fool the closest of people to him. Though, it might be harder to fool someone who didn't hold much trust in him, trust he luckily managed to gain from Arathion with this little plan. "Thank you, Arathion, for helping me find a way to save my own land... I am grateful of you, and your honesty and bravery..."

He gave a smile to the young Elf, trying to 'lighten up' the mood. If he were to play the roll of a captive, he had to do anything he could to make it believable, even attempt to lighten up a mood that was frightening or tense. "I will make sure that not only will your Lord and Lady know of your braveness and generosity, but that my Lord and those of Greenwood will as well. Though I may be the advisor of my Lord, that doesn't always mean that people will stick out their necks to keep me safe... Lord Thranduil will indeed be grateful as well..." He moved a little in his spot, trying to get as comfortable as possible with his wounds and being tied up. He winced slightly though, relaxing once more as it seemed better that way, if he really were hurt, that is... "If no help seems to come for us soon, we might have to find a way out ourselves... Now that he knows he won't be able to shake us that easily, I am sure it won't be long before he attempts to kill us..." He glanced towards where they had seen Timnarian leave, as if expecting him to show up again and being safe about their conversation.

"I am not too sure if my Lord knows of my absence, seeing as I had left for Laketown before being captured... Though, I assume the marchwardens would be aware of your absence by now, yes? I can only assume that you had been taken from your post... if not, we need to figure out a way to escape, and quick..." Beriadan of course knew he was taken from his post, not that Arathion would know that. He had to think of how long it would take for other marchwardens to come to their rescue, possibly Lord Celeborn himself. After all, Arathion was his younger cousin and he was sure that the last thing Celeborn would want is for him to end up being hurt... or killed... Hopefully, that potion he had given the Lord when he kidnapped him worked well enough that he wouldn't recognize him or he would be in trouble right now. Last thing he needed was Celeborn sending word to Thranduil of what he has planned for him, especially when things were just falling into place for him.

(Soooo, I know this is a little everywhere and not that great, sorry. ^^;; Still trying to get back into my groove with Beriadan! Hopefully you guys still enjoy this though, and I'm leaving it for you, Otter, to bring in the marchwardens when you please! ^^ )


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #10 on: November 29, 2013, 04:24:00 AM »
Arathion watched his companion’s movements carefully, noting the pain and discomfort that crossed the elf’s refined features. His fingers twitched behind his own back in protest to the tight ropes which were binding his wrists. He’d managed to find a small sharp stone that had broken off from the wall and he wedged it into a loose hole in the mortar behind him. His hands were going too numb to properly use the stone by holding it in his fingers but at least he could use the wall to hold it while he ran the rope against its edge. He went about his business with as little outward movement as possible out of worry that he would give Beriadan false hope if he couldn’t succeed in actually cutting through and freeing himself. He paused at the Avari’s words of gratitude and offered him a genuine and warm smile in return for the one being directed at him.

“I need no adulations,” Arathion said humbly, “To know I can help our cousins in the Greenwood is thanks enough. Your lord should know of your bravery in facing this monster alone. You have born harm under his hand and yet you remain faithful. Lord Thranduil is fortunate indeed to have such a trusted companion as yourself.” His smile faltered as Beriadan let out a wince and tried to shift to a more comfortable position. It was obvious the elf was hurting badly and a lump of frustration settled itself in Arathion’s stomach at knowing he couldn’t do much about it until his hands were freed.

As if his thoughts had been read, Beriadan himself spoke of escape and the very real threat that this Timnarian character posed to them. “My people know I was taken,” he said, more openly working at his ropes now, “I have no doubts they are already under way. Still, I have no real desire to stay here at this assassin’s mercies until they arrive.” He risked scooting forward and glancing over his shoulder to see how much progress he’d made on the ropes.

Unbeknownst to him, however, Timnarian had spent much of his “absence” sitting up on a narrow stone shelf next door which looked onto their room via a hole in the upper junction where the wall met the ceiling. He was utterly hidden in shadow but his view had been unobstructed and he’d watched the whole conversation with interest. Beriadan had proven himself quite the actor and he had this pathetic whelp eating right out of his hand. The minute Arathion had spoken what he knew of the Lady’s protections for Lothlorien, Timnarian had felt his excitement notch up. Not because he cared either way about the information at hand but rather because it meant the boy’s usefulness had just come to an end and he was free to play as he desired. His eyes narrowed as he saw what Arathion was doing with his bonds. It was time to teach this upstart elvish boy that bravery and stupidity shared a fine border and mouthing off to Timnarian pushed him firmly from one side to the other.

As the bonds around his wrists began to fray and the first strand of the rope popped loose, Arathion began to feel genuinely hopeful that any rescue party on their way to him would find he and Beriadan already leaving this forsaken place. That hope was dashed as he glanced up to find the half-elf leaning in the doorway with a pair of manacles in one hand and a wicked looking whip dangling from the other. His blood froze at the sight but he quickly squared his jaw and painted a defiant look on his face. He considered himself a relatively brave enough person, one had to be in order to be counted among the march-wardens, but he doubted there were many men who would face such a threat and not feel their hearts speed in their chests over it. More to the point, he knew full well the assassin wasn’t making idle threats. He didn’t seem the sort to just intimidate without the intention of following through.

Arathion glanced to his side and felt his fear notch a little higher at the realization that it might well be Beriadan who was the target of this mad man’s anger. He couldn’t allow that to happen. His actions were his own and it was his responsibility to protect the Avari by any means possible. His gaze shot back to Timnarian to find the assassin slowly approaching them.

“Now then, which one of you should I start with?” he drawled in the slow smooth voice he used when hunting prey, “You seemed so eager to protect this one last time.” Timnarian nudged Beriadan’s leg with the toe of his boot. “I wonder how deep that bravery of yours runs.”

Arathion swallowed down his nervousness and sat up straighter despite the pain in his wounded leg. “I know what it is you want of us and I tell you now that I will die before I say a word to help you against my people.” His eyes narrowed and his shoulders set back with pride. “You are a coward. You use poisons and darkness to hide from your enemies. There is nothing you can do to me that will be worse than the fate you bring upon yourself. You will die alone and un-mourned.”

Timnarian’s face went flat for a moment before a smile slowly spread back into place with a new malice to it that ran deep into his eyes. “Perhaps we should test your theory. You may come to find the idea of dying alone and un-mourned starts looking rather appealing compared to what I shall do.” With the swiftness of a striking snake, his hand shot out and wrapped into Arathion’s hair. The elf ground his teeth but refused to give more than a grunt as he was all but dragged toward the left side of the room. His injured leg shivered under his weight as he tried to walk on it but he planted his other foot firmly to the ground and kicked out at the back of the assassin’s thigh. Timnarian’s grip loosened and he stumbled forward a few steps but he swung his momentum around and used it to punch the young guard with enough force to bring him back to his knees.

“You are going to learn to respect me and if that fails, then you will learn to scream for me,” Timnarian hissed. He shoved Arathion to the ground and snapped the first manacle around his wrist. The ropes were cut free and he jerked the boy up and slammed him against the wall. Before Arathion could collect himself, the manacle chain had been passed through an old iron loop set into the stone and his other wrist had been secured so that his hands were now bound in metal cuffs in front of him. He took a few deep breaths in through his nose to calm himself as Timnarian ran a knife up the back of his tunic and tore away the thin layer of protection he had left. Cold air settled against the skin across his shoulders and behind him he could hear the whip being unfurled.

Timnarian looked over at Beriadan with a grin. “Let us see the true measure of a March-Warden of Lorien.” He spun around and the whip cracked through the air. Arathion let out a truncated cry of shock as the pain from the first blow spread across his back. He took a few more breaths and tried to send his mind elsewhere while blow after blow rained across his skin. He could feel the warmth of blood seeping down his spine and despite his best efforts a scream was finally torn out of him as the fourth lash across his skin landed across the deep cut left by the first one he’d taken. The cry had apparently only egged Timnarian on and three more blows landed in rapid succession. Arathion’s knees gave out and he collapsed against the wall, his weight held up only by his wrists so that his knees remained an inch above the ground. His calm breaths had given way to short, huffed pants curled around a pained whimper as each breath stretched his already damaged skin.

Timnarian chuckled. “That’s what I thought.” He turned to look at Beriadan as he ran the whip through his fingers and examined the blood it left behind. “All men eventually crumble. It’s just a matter of knowing how to how to make them fall.” He chose his words carefully, a teasing smile for Beriadan that said he wasn’t talking about Arathion so much as he was referring to the prideful elvish lord sitting on the throne of Mirkwood. “So tell me boy, is that lonely death starting to sound welcoming yet?”

Arathion struggled to think of a suitable retort but all of his focus was on the fire that seemed to have spread across his back as the wounds were allowed a chance to rest. He tried to push back to his feet but his legs refused to hold the weight and he managed little more than lifting himself an inch or two before falling back to hang from his wrists again.

“Mm…still too much fight in you, I think,” Timnarian murmured as he stepped forward and readied the whip again. His strike never landed however as an arrow slammed into the back of his arm. The weapon fell to the ground and Timnarian spun around clutching the shaft which still protruded from his tricep.

Two Lothlorien guards, royal household guards by the look of their uniforms, had entered the room. “My Lord Celeborn! In here!” cried one of the guards while the one with his bow out hurriedly notched another arrow.

Timnarian knew well enough when it was time to go. He was no match for a one on one fight with Celeborn himself and he had too many plans to carry out for him to die today. A flick of his wrist sent a dagger into the throat of the guard with the bow and he followed its flight path with ferocious speed so that he all but bowled the other guard over. As he burst out into the shattered remnants of what had once been a hallway, he saw a flash of silver to his right. Some fifty feet away he could see the regal form of Celeborn himself adorned in shimmering armor so that in the light he all but glowed as stars do. It was little wonder his men loved him and his lady so much but Timnarian knew he had no time to waste as the guard’s call had alerted the others and already elves were moving in his direction. Timnarian met Celeborn’s gaze and smiled wickedly at him as he backed down the hallway. It was a pity he couldn’t stick around to see what the lord would think of his handiwork.

Instead Timnarian turned on his heel and tore off down the hallway. “KILL THEM!” he screamed to the orcs who had arrived due to the sound of the scuffle. He knew they wouldn’t last long against the elves but hopefully it would buy him enough time to get out of harm’s way.

Back in the room Arathion was quietly thanking every star that had ever shown in the night sky. He’d heard the guard’s call and had been filled with immeasurable relief in knowing his torment had come to an end. Normally he would have been horrified at the idea of having to be rescued much less being rescued while beaten to a pulp, but he was in too much pain to bother with being embarrassed over his current state. The throbbing in his cheek and the split in his lip from where he’d been struck picked up a chorus with the knife wound on his leg. He’d expected them to be drowned out by the greater pain across his back but unfortunately they all meshed nicely together until his whole world narrowed into nothing more than his concentrating on just breathing in and out.

((OOC: OMG. I’M SO SORRY THIS IS SO LONG. UGH. Apparently I enjoy torturing my characters too much. *facepalm* Um…yeah. I won’t be upset if you guys choose to just skim all this. >__>))


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #11 on: November 30, 2013, 05:37:00 AM »
Celeborn and Haldir explored the city until they heard an odd noise. Celeborn stayed still trying to figure out what had made such a noise. All the sudden one pair gave a shout alerting him that they had found his cousin. Celeborn and Haldir then moved on towards their men when a knife went flying through the throat of one of them and an Elf came rushing against the other, causing Celeborn to scowl as he rushed in that direction. But the Half-Elf went tearing in the opposite direction. Celeborn looked towards Haldir, saying, "Follow him." Haldir nodded and hurried off.

Celeborn paled as orcs came rushing over, stalling him as he fought them off. The rest of his men came over, battling the orcs as well and giving Celeborn a chance to break off and find where his cousin was. It didn’t take long until he found the younger Elf and he rushed to his side. "Cousin! What happened?" He was alarmed by the extent of injuries and he had a flash of himself being beat up by orcs here in Osgiliath. He blinked the sight away and crouched, looking at the bounds for a way to get them off.

It didn’t take long for Celeborn to manage to remove them before he set his cousin against a nearby wall, noticing for the first time the other person, a person that seemed familiar but he couldn’t quite place him. "Do I know you?" Perhaps not the most pleasant, cordial greeting but considering the circumstances he figured it was allowable. A few guards came in, including Haladir who shook his head at Celeborn's silent question. "We need to get them to safety. Are the orcs dealt with?" A guard nodded.


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #12 on: January 31, 2014, 11:59:00 AM »
How interesting it was to hear the young Ellon's choice of words; 'Lord Thranduil is fortunate indeed to have such a trusted companion as yourself.' He knew nothing of what he spoke, was blinded by Beriadan's sweetly coated words, this facade he has come to wear so well that he didn't even know. What would he say if he found out that the man Thranduil trusted with his very life was behind this whole little game? What would he say if he found out he was the one to kidnap Lord Celeborn and have him tortured for answers that were not given? Oh, it could possibly be 'How could you? Have you no shame?' or, maybe 'You call yourself the Advisor of Lord Thranduil? You are a disgrace among our kind!'... maybe a mixture of both, maybe neither. But whatever it was, Beriadan was sure that the young Marchwarden would be surprised, would hate him, maybe even despise him for all these deeds he has done...  Though, there was one thing, one thing that the Avari Elf hasn't told anyone; not Timnarian, not even Annungilel... He was too fond of Legolas... he was too attached to the young Prince that he wasn't even sure if he could go through with killing him or having him killed. It ate away at his mind all the time, and he wasn't sure how he could even deal with it...

"Bravery?" He couldn't help but chuckle now, looking down towards his lap as a small smile was on his features. "It can be hardly called bravery when I hold so much fear within me... I do not do this for bravery, you must understand that. What I am doing is for my King, the one who I call my family... If I were to allow him to come in harm's way? What purpose do I have?" He looked up towards Arathion now, a near seriousness in his eyes it could make anyone believe his words. "You see, I have made a promise to someone dear to me many years ago; I would protect Lord Thranduil even if it were to cost me my own life... I cannot live if the one I have come to care for is ripped from my very hands, right before my eyes. This... This is a promise I must keep; not only to the late King Oropher but to myself, as well..." Promise? What promise was he keeping now? He was sneaking around behind Thranduil's back, calculating the day he would kill him for a throne that didn't belong to him in the first place... How was that in anyway keeping any promises made so long ago?

Was he so far gone now that he couldn't remember those words that Lord Oropher spoke to him before having gone to war? Was he so far gone that the friendship, the love he shared with Thranduil has meant nothing up to this point? No... these thoughts weren't his, these words weren't his... He would have never thought of harming Thranduil, he would have never cared for a throne that he didn't belong in. He cared for Thranduil, he was his brother and the sole person he did not lose all those years ago. Then... why is it he fought so hard to betray him? Why was it that nothing else mattered but what Annungilel told him of his past? Yes, his grandfather had been a king, his true grandfather but that was in a land long forgotten, a land destroyed years before he had been born. Greenwood belonged to Thranduil and Thranduil alone, that throne was meant to have him in it... These things he fought for, they were foolish yet... he was fighting for them...

Timnarian needs to stop this before it goes any further... He didn't want these thoughts in his mind, he didn't want to love Thranduil as much as he has anymore. If he did, he would forget what this was all for and end up dead, one way or another. No, he wouldn't stop now, not when he had the ability to continue and the resources to help him survive til the end. With everything that had been running through his mind, he hardly even noticed that Arathion had been cutting away at his binds, bright bluish green hues watching him for a second. He did it in secrecy that only one who had really been paying attention could have caught the slight movements he made to cut away at his binds. He leaned back against the wall, head resting against it as he ignored what Arathion had been doing to make it seem as if he hadn't even caught sight of him cutting at his ropes. "We cannot wait or I'm afraid we may end up dead before they arrive... If we are to take this man down, we must work together..." He spoke up, slightly glancing towards him with his eyes.

But before anything else could be said or done, Timnarian came and Beriadan's bright hues narrowed in on him, watching his every move. He slightly winced when his leg had been kicked, one eye closing before glancing up at Timnarian again and giving a chuckle, before it turned into somewhat of a snicker. "You do not scare me, I have faced far more dangerous men than yourself, and in far bigger numbers..." He mocked slightly though before he could even think of continuing, the Marchwarden beside him spoke up now. Things seemed to have happened so fast after that, Timnarian dragging the Elf off to the wall before them and Arathion fighting back against him. It was obvious that the young Marchwarden struck a cord, and one that seemed to not be struck often. Beriadan never asked Timnarian about his past and he wouldn't dare to, seeing as it had been none of his business nor did it have anything to do with this alliance they had. Though, just from the look in Timnarian's eyes, he could tell something happened that Arathion's words brought to light.

As Timnarian had been busy torturing Arathion, Beriadan knew he couldn't just sit around and allow it to happen; it would be too suspicious. So, the Avarin Elf pushed himself up along the wall the best he could, holding any winces back as to not 'alert' Timnarian of his actions. He paused when Timnarian spoke and looked back to him when mentioning all men would fall. Yes, they would, and Thranduil's was soon to come... with all emotions aside, Beriadan would take his life and his throne, it would be perfect.

He had continued to move to go after Timnarian before he had bolted, giving Beriadan the chance to walk over to Arathion before falling against the wall with a wince, keeping himself up. "A... Arathion... listen to me... you mustn't give up, you hear me? Help has arrived..." He spoke up, looking around for something to get his arms free with to attempt to help Arathion as well. He had moved off to the stone Arathion had previously been using and attempted to get his hands free before Celeborn came in. He had rushed to his cousin, where he helped him out of his binds and had now gazed towards him when the younger Ellon was safe. His eyes met Celeborn's as his question rung through the air, the stone in his hands falling as he stared at him. He didn't get the chance to speak as warriors of Lothlorien came rushing in to help them, one helping him to his feet once more as his binds were then cut. "Thank you..." He muttered to those who helped him, leaning against one.

His eyes went up to Celeborn once more, seeming calmer now that they had been rescued. "Your cousin, Arathion, he is a great warrior... he has saved my life and I wish to one day repay that to him. Do take good care of him, for his deeds will not be forgotten here..." He gave a little bow of his head before hearing someone else coming, rushing in. Before he knew it, he was staring at a couple of guards from Mirkwood as well, of course guards he had planned to have arrived. He made sure that it would seem like he was kidnapped before he could have left so that he wouldn't be dragged away to Lothlorien. He couldn't be... not when he couldn't even enter the damn place. He figured these guards have been tracking him for days, seeing Osgiliath was quite a ride's away from Mirkwood. Though he only really needed them to to keep him from having to go to the healers in Lothlorien, and that they did. He didn't get much information from Arathion but, what he did get was enough to somewhat pinpoint who was the cause of Lorien's protection.

"I thank you for the help of your men, and do let Arathion know that if he is ever in need of help, he has my aid..." He gave a slight bow, the best he could with the injuries he sustained as the men of Mirkwood came to help him now.

(Hope this is alright for you guys! =w= I'm sure we can end it soon after this~? Also, I apologize ahead of time for any mistakes... got all my posts done in the matter of like... four days so I only skimmed through this. XD;; )


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The Danger of Innocence
« Reply #13 on: June 25, 2014, 01:28:00 AM »
"A... Arathion... listen to me... you mustn't give up, you hear me? Help has arrived..."

Arathion blinked back the tears of pain that stung at his eyes and tried to nod at those words. The world around him had devolved into confusion as shock finally overtook him. The beating had stopped and Beriadan’s presence beside him meant the assassin had fled the room so the advisor’s words rang true enough. Help had indeed arrived. The warmth of his companion in capture moved away and Arathion let himself fall back into just maintaining deep even breaths. His arms were hurting where all of his weight was hanging by his wrists but his legs were refusing to lift him and he wasn’t willing to jar his back anymore than utterly necessary.

Suddenly someone was tugging at his wrists and Arathion heard a familiar voice call out at his shoulder. He knew he should have felt embarrassed or shamed as he turned his head to find his Lord crouched at his side with a look of shocked concern but relief had crowded out all other emotions for the moment. He let himself be comforted by the strength in his cousin’s voice. The presence of Celeborn meant he was safe, nothing would dare to stand against the elvish lord’s might, and for a moment Arathion was sure everything was going to be ok.

“The half-elf,” Arathion croaked through a throat torn by screaming, “the dark-haired one…h-he wanted to know the protections….of Lorien.” The statement was punctuated with pants as the boy tried to catch his breath again. “I told him nothing,” he added as if concerned his cousin might think otherwise, “I would have given my life first.”

Arathion let out a low groan of pain as Celeborn freed one of his wrists from the manacles. His knees finally sank to the ground and he pressed himself against the wall a moment to make sure he wouldn’t fall over while his cousin worked to free the other wrist. It was then, while his face was all but pressed to the cold stone in front of him and his Lord was working to release his other wrist, that his thoughts turned back to Lorien, to his failure, and to the awful image of his men lying motionless on the field. Had he killed them just by being among their number? By being too stupid to recognize a trap as it opened before him? His mouth soured at the thought of going back to his home only to find he’d gotten his whole team killed.

“Rothonen…” he whispered before looking up imploringly as his cousin stooped to help him. The graceful lord gently eased him down against a wall to rest and Arathion shuddered as the hard stone brushed against some of the open cuts along his back. His mind was too focused on the men he may well have lost to care much about his own pain in that moment but before he could ask about them, Celeborn’s attention turned to the other person in the room, Beriadan. More guards entered and rushed to the Avari elf’s aid.
“Beriadan,” Arathion rasped out, “he is Beriadan, of Greenwood. A brave soul who faced this monster alone before I arrived.” He offered his temporary companion a pained smile.

He was moved as Beriadan began to speak of him in such a flattering way. While the thought of having potentially lost all of his men sickened him to the core, at least he had been able to protect one such as the wise advisor of Thranduil. He would have given his life had the call for it been made if it had meant letting Beriadan go home to his people. “Nor will your bravery be forgotten by me,” he replied with a respectful nod.

Haldir and a group of other wardens entered then and Arathion let his eyes drop. He couldn’t bring himself to look the other warden in the eyes. Not after having messed up so badly that they’d had to send a rescue mission just to get him. He sagged against the wall, glancing up only in time to see men in the uniform of Greenwood come in and whisk Beriadan away. At least he was content in knowing his companion was on his way home and back to safety once more.

His own trip home was a matter of concern and Arathion looked up apprehensively at his lord. While he was afraid of the answer, he knew it would be better to know such things out in front rather than bear the whole trip home in uncertainty. “Rothonen, my squad….did any of them…did I led them to destruction?” he asked in a broken voice. He could handle the whip, though it had been the worst injury he’d ever sustained, but the thought of his men dying because of his foolishness was more than he could bear.


((OOC: Ok, finally been able to reply to this. I figure maybe one or two more posts at most? Probably could just wrap it up with a Celeborn post and then I'll close it out unless anyone wants to keep going. Sounds like Ber has made his exit.))


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