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| 6 Fourth Age: The Beginning of the end; Aragorn & Leoynna | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: 4 Oct 2008, 09:37 PM (689 Views) | |
| Deleted User | 4 Oct 2008, 09:37 PM Post #1 |
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How long and hard she had ridden mattered little, how infrequently she had stopped mattered nothing. The only thing that had held any weight of worth from her entire journey had been a single vision of her daughter and that first glimpse of Minas Tirith in the distance when she'd reached the Pelennor fields. Leoynna had felt such a wave of relief wash over her that she'd actually paused and took the time to catch her breath. She allowed her mount, Netherai, to slow to a gait and simply walk the Pelennor fields at ease. There was no reason to rush now, soon enough she would be walking along side a dear friend whom she had not seen in ages and would explain to him alone why she had come. And even before she had come, Leoynna had known immediately that if she had ridden in and arrived announced instead of having written Elessar ahead of time- as she'd so done and not requested a private audience in these very fields, her husband may have run off with her child yet again before she'd ever have the opportunity to explain. No. It had to be this way. Out of sight and mind, where there would be less eyes and ears to overhear and warn her husband of her coming. So it was here that she dismounted Netherai and waited. In the midst of the Pelennor fields, a lone figured standing beside their horse and draped in gray from the tip of her hood to the tail of her cloak. |
| Deleted User | 6 Oct 2008, 01:47 PM Post #2 |
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Brego surged gracefully across the flat plain of the Pelennor. Behind King Elessar, a dozen guards and horses thundered a path through the scruffy, yellow grass. Leoynna had requested a meeting far out on the Pelennor, presumably where eyes could not watch from the city walls. He spotted her in the distance, and pulled Brego’s reins gently. The horse responded to the lightest touch and altered his course. “Leoynna,” Aragorn said, twisting his hand in the traditional Elven greeting. “I did not think you would venture from your hiding place for many more years.” The Royal Guard stood far enough away that the King could not be overheard, but within easy distance to defend him. Some yards behind Aragorn and Leoynna, the Rammas Echor stood rebuilt. Sentries had moved along to the south, but would turn and head back this way soon. One of the Royal Guards departed his fellows to speak to the sentry, doubtless to inform the man the King wished for privacy. “What brings you to Gondor in such haste?” |
| Deleted User | 6 Oct 2008, 09:40 PM Post #3 |
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His arrival was announced not by man or boy, but by the marching sounds of hooves that caused the earth to quiver and the birds closest to them to fly away. Out of respect, Leoynna lowered her hood down to her shoulders and bowed her eyes and head towards the King as he approached. It had been a long time since she had last visited with Aragorn, well before he'd returned as King of Gondor and it was pleasing to see he wore the position well and proudly. "Mae Govannen, Aragorn. King of Gondor." For a moment her face is serene, serious and respectful. The clean lines of her features beauty detailed out flawlessly as her eyes re-open and their magic blue globes light up brighter than the sky. "And indeed, I wish it could have been so but these day grow cold and..." She pauses, uncertain how best to phrase the truth and reason of her coming. "...Gondor, it seems. Holds my future." Turning on her heel, Leoynna steps to one side of Aragorn. Walking to the right of him as she begins to detail out things for the King. "My daughter, Nihdira, was brought here twenty years ago and away from me by my husband, her father and your Chamberlain - Sadorannant Marroc. It's for her I come to Gondor now, to pass down my heritage before it's too late. He calls her Gwenneth here in Gondor and refuses to let me see her. It is for this reason, that I request your assistance. Sadorannant has changed from the man I loved so long ago, bitter and soured from heartbreak and intends on using who my daughter shall become to his leverage." Leoynna pauses her steps, glancing more directly to meet Aragorn's stare with the same empowering blue gaze as her daughters. It is the place where they are the most alike in features, although they each seem to share a rare gift in beauty, their eyes take the lead over all other qualities. Like mother like daughter. |
| Deleted User | 7 Oct 2008, 01:57 PM Post #4 |
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Aragorn listened to his old friend in growing disbelief. Gwenneth, daughter of the taciturn Chamberlain, was Leoynna’s daughter. In a certain light, it made sense. She was different from other courtiers in an indefinable way, and it had endeared her to Aragorn. Now he knew, she was a Dunedan, his kindred. “Your daughter is known to me, although I did not know you were her mother. What did you come to ask of me, Leoynna?” The King’s mind cast back on his few personal meetings with the Chamberlain. Aragorn had already tried to release Gwenneth from the sequestered life her father had condemned her to. He did not know what else Leoynna had in mind, nor did he think it could dissuade Sadorannant from his bitterness. |
| Realm of Arda | 7 Oct 2008, 02:26 PM Post #5 |
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![]() They came from the lurking shadows of an early twilight. Crouched low and slinking along the ground, they followed the scent of the female their master had ordered them to track. Mounted atop the hulking, infested Wargs, the Orc riders eyed the fortified wall. They could not cross it, but they must follow the female. One of the Orcs shifted his position. Soulless black eyes widened in greed and ragged hatred. The female was inside the wall, and with her was a man the Orc remembered. The Northman. The Orc had attacked the Strawheads, and The Northman had killed his Warg. Sharkey had told him to kill The Northman, and the Orc wanted to very badly. Hand had told him to follow the female. The orders did not conflict. He could kill the Northman and follow the female. He gave the signal. Seven Wargs and riders surged through the wall. The sentries, who were far from their stations, responded too late. The last Warg took an arrow in the shoulder, but it kept running like the rabid dog it was. The Warg Riders were through the gate. The Orc gave a dark laugh as he drew his blade. Below him, the Warg’s jaw snapped. The sound was muted. There was flesh between his razor sharp teeth. The Orc drew down his blade, and a man cried out in pain once before going silent forever. The Orc cackled again. |
| Deleted User | 14 Oct 2008, 09:08 PM Post #6 |
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It was the vicious snarls of the wargs that struck first. Their slobbery, grim smiles and throaty growls were easily definable as the foul beasts from any other sort of creature. And immediately Leoynna turned and reached for her cat whip, tail of nine, that had been resting at her hip. There had been very little training in her life, on truths and technique of battle but Leoynna had made sure to see herself as not completely defenseless in a time like this. "Majesty," She started to speak, her blue eyes sharp as a blade crossing paths with his as if to say she was sorry. Her stubbornness to meet the King outside of Gondors great walls had put them all in danger and it was too late now, she knew, to tell him what she'd come to. She'd seen this in her dream. She knew how it would end. All around her the sounds of blades being freed from their sheaths began to sing. The Kings unit of men, that had never been too far off, now also aware of the immediate danger that approached. The first warg rider got close enough that she sent the wicked leather snake snapping back behind her head and forward in a frightful speed and watched it twine about its riders throat. She wrenched her arm the same moment that she threw herself to the earth and dodged the warg beast itself, sending the orc hurdling from its seat to the ground. It's gangly neck, broken from the impact. |
| Deleted User | 16 Oct 2008, 03:06 PM Post #7 |
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Andruil slid from the sheath belted around Aragorn’s waist with a single shrill note hissing through the air. With practiced ease, the King took a fighting stance. Around him, his guards had already engaged in the fight. A man cried out in pain, then fell silent somewhere to his left. With lethal grace, Aragorn moved in on his first opponent. Darting to the left and propelling his right arm forward, Andruil sunk deep into the Warg’s eye. The stinking beast had no life left to give a bellow of agony. It fell to the yellow grass, unmoving. The Orc riding atop the Warg leapt from the dead animal, brandishing his black knife. Their blades clashed three times. Aragorn saw the fatal flaw that all Orcs possessed. So eager was his opponent to exact vengeance that the Orc had forgotten to protect himself. The King plunged his sword into the Orcs exposed left side. Black blood trickled down towards Andruil’s hilt. Aragorn turned to find another enemy. He saw Leoynna fighting, like every Dunedain woman could, several paces away. It was not in his nature to allow this, however. He had dissuaded Eowyn and many others before her. “Leoynna!” he cried, “retreat to Minas Tirith. My guards will finish this fight!” |
| Deleted User | 17 Oct 2008, 05:06 AM Post #8 |
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Leoynna could feel the adrenaline of her heart pumping its blood faster and faster through her body. Her skin tingled with the rush of chaos that clattered on around her with grueling energy. The Wargs and their riders jumped and weaved around. The heavy set jaws of the beasts snapping hungrily at any limb or head they could feast while the orcs stabbed and slashed at any man who came within their reach. Aragorn's voice came from behind her, distant like a familiar dream and she turned her cheek to glance back over her shoulder to meet his stare. His order as clear as day, she wouldn't be one to refuse the King of Gondor nor her friend. About to turn and run towards him, she felt the cold sting of the blade bite. It hit her gut as she turned in to the Orcs sword. It had snuck up around one of the fallen dead warg bodies and caught her from the side with a single thrust. Leoynna staggered, staring into the face of the orc as it hissed and grinned a maliciously pleased smile. She saw to it, with the last of her strength that it would be his last. The small blade that had been strapped to her hip striking straight up and entering into its skull from beneath its chin for an immediate death. It dropped Simultaneously as Leoynna hit her knees and felt the world begin to slow. She'd known for a long time that Aragorn would be one of the last faces she'd see. That the when and why had never been defined but she'd be at his side. What she hadn't know was that she wouldn't ever make it to Gwenneth, she wouldn't have the chance see her daughter again after all these years. Leoynna touched the wound and brought her hand back up towards her face. Even as her eyes began to blur and her brow began to sweat, she could tell the blood stained cloth on her gloves was deep and dark, almost appearing black instead of murky red. The orc had landed a fatal blow. She had only a handful of minutes now... |
| Deleted User | 20 Oct 2008, 02:05 PM Post #9 |
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The final Orc fell to Aragorn’s sword. All around him, the King’s Guard was reforming. Their Captain issued the sensible order to ensure that all Orcs and Wargs were dead. The King crouched to clean his blade on the grass when he saw Leoynna’s horse, not galloping to Minas Tirith as it should have been doing, but prancing on the field twenty yards away. Dread settled over him. He had seen the idle unease of Dunedain mounts before, and always when their riders lay wounded or dead on the battlefield. Aragorn ran the distance, leaving his guard behind once again. “Leoynna,” he murmured, kneeling in the dry grass beside her. “Let me see the wound.” His hands, a moment ago lethal on the sword, became Healer’s hands now as he touched the gash. Aragorn bowed his head and murmured a brief phrase in Quenya, a lament. The cut was too deep and had injured parts too vital. There was only one comfort he could give her now. “Your daughter is pure and good,” he said. “Now I know she is your daughter, and therefore, my kin. She will become part of the King’s House, which is her rightful place. Any favor you ask I bestow upon her, I will do it, mellon-nin.” Translation: mellon nin = my friend |
| Deleted User | 20 Oct 2008, 07:08 PM Post #10 |
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As the adrenaline began to wear off and the cold sweat of pain began to dab her brow, Leoynna let herself lower to the ground on her back. She focused on her breathing instead of the sharp pain the splintered through her lower abdomen. Stared up at the unbroken sky of blue above and the sensation of warmth on her cheeks. Looking into deaths eyes, Leoynna knew she had only one regret in life and no fear of dying. Aragorn, as he approached and carefully inspected her wound, would have to be the one to absolve that regret for her now. His words of kindness were returned with a small, weak smile that quivered with failing strength. With one hand, she took the Kings inside of her grasp and with the other she tugged hard enough at the amulet around her neck so it unraveled into her palm. "Please" Leoynna struggled with her words, each one staggered and labored full of heavy broken breathing. "Tell Nihdira I love her, that I came for her...that I am sorry..." The hand holding the amulet slipping inside of Aragorns own, closing it over with the Kings fingers and her palm over top. "She must know...who she is, tell her the story of her grandmothers...." Lying there, her body tenses as a small coughing fit interrupts and shakes through her entire body. What warmth there was, from the sun, life and even Aragorns hand is slow to slip away. The cold creeping up from her soul began to spread and the edges of her sight began to blur and haze. She turned her eyes to Aragorn and gripped his hand a little tighter to know he was still there, as the sensation of touch too began to fade away. "what does she look like?" These words would be her last and the Kings response would come to be the final sounds she would hear before death would take her. |
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