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| 6 Fourth Age: A Violent Betrayal; [This is an open thread for all!] | |
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| Tweet Topic Started: 20 Nov 2008, 04:06 AM (318 Views) | |
| Deleted User | 20 Nov 2008, 04:06 AM Post #1 |
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Gwenneth had spent two days in solitude, deep in the belly of Rath Dínens' freshest tomb. First pacing and fretting, then silently sitting and clutching the Grey gemstone that Elessar had past down to her from her mother. She sobbed often and until she was red in the face and gasping for breath, then sat silent and still simply embracing the pain. She had nothing to eat but felt so sick to her stomach she thought for certain she would be ill. She cried herself to sleep and then on the morning of her mothers funeral woke up crying still. There were no words for the loss of a parent. No cure to fill the empty place of betrayal her father had left in the wake of his deceit. And as she stood watching as the quiet and small ceremony came to a close, she knew in her heart that this type of pain never went away. Her father would always be a villain in this piece, no matter what amendments might be made or how forgiving she may eventually come to be. The first glimpse of her mother had been of death and there was something in that which could not be forgotten. * * * * * * * * High noon, later that day of Leoynna's ceremony. The Chamberlain nearly flew across the halls of Minas Tirith along the seventh levels corridor. Careless of the people that got in his way and he shoved aside. There was a hells fury caught in his eyes, a violent storm of anger that turned his face ugly and his lips into a snarl. He had heard a rumor and to his dismay, had investigated to discover its truth. The Witch had returned, dead as she was and Gwenneth had managed to find herself a mother. He cursed the king under his breath. Stewing and growling with sickening disgust that he'd dare interfere with the business of a daughter not his own. That high flying bastard and menace of Gondor, he'd had no right, no right what so ever!!! At last the Chamberlain reached the main hall that would lead to his own. So certain that he would arrive in time to punish his daughter for her deviance that he skidded to a stop when he saw her no more then ten paces away and heading in his direction. His child, his key to true power, looking as if she might be packed to head out on some adventure. He snarled maliciously at her and immediately Gwenneth stopped as well. For a long time they stood silent. The Chamberlain with his eyes afire and Gwenneth with her cool blue stare lowered to his feet. How could she look him in the eye and call him father now? "You'll be wise, young lady, to remove your parcels immediately and place yourself back inside your chambers. As your father, I'm putting you under house arrest. You'll not step a foot outside my home unless accompanied by me!" Sadorannant nearly spat at her and was about to continue the humiliating degradation on his child when a single word turned his fury stiff and his anger violent. "No." Gwenneth pronounced, refusing him for the first time in her entire life. "I will not." By now a small crowd had gathered down the hall, looking on from a small distance and watching with wide eyed horror as their long-time Chamberlain continued with his horrific behavior. "No?" He repeated and started to stalk towards her. "NO?!?" He bellowed again as he reached toe to toe with her and grabbed her brutally by the elbows and shook her without restraint. "You are my daughter! MY property, you'll do as I say child or else!" "No." she refused a second time, with stern conviction and a futile struggle to break free. The last bit of rationality broke with her continued rejection and abruptly he wrenched her smaller body about in a violent display that pitched her across the floor and towards the door of their chambers. "You'll do as I say!" He commanded and started to stalk towards her again... |
| Deleted User | 23 Nov 2008, 05:51 AM Post #2 |
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Inniel began to make her way to the main hall after hearing the commotion, but stopped short after exiting her study to usher her younger brother back inside. “Remain here, Alyan,” she instructed. She didn’t know exactly what was going on, but the bellowing she had heard bode ill news. “I’ll be back, soon.” She shut the door quietly and walked briskly, wondering exactly who or what was causing such a ruckus. She halted once catching sight of a small assembly of people, her lips pursed in concern. She wasn’t going to see anything like this – especially with her height. The young woman wormed her way through the masses, settling herself in between the first few rows to see the action. Immediately she spotted Gwenneth and an eyebrow shot up in surprise. She didn’t know the lady so well to exchange secrets, but she had encountered her quite a number of times in the library or in the halls. She was a pleasant woman, although the expression that was on her face was now of hard intent. Inniel noticed her state of dress. Is she going somewhere? she thought. She turned her head slightly and caught sight of the other figure that was at the center of attention. The man looked frightening and, unconsciously, she slid back a little more into the crowd, especially after he threw Gwenneth onto the floor. An instinct told her not to get involved with the man and, for now, she would be a bystander, although her conscience told her to help the girl up. However, she couldn't help but feel that this was some trial that only one person could complete. She admired Gwenneth's courage to stand up to him and was silently encouraging her to win. Inniel stood tall and looked back and forth from the two individuals, waiting to see what would happen next. |
| Deleted User | 24 Nov 2008, 04:09 AM Post #3 |
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Dagoras's footsteps echoed down the long, shining halls of Minas Tirith as he headed down toward the gates to give his people their new patrol schedules that he had worked out. The schedules had not been changed since the last war with Sauron, and now he suddenly found himself forced to alter them on account of Thûl-in-Gyrth. Many of his men had fallen to the 'mysterious' illness and were now keeping watch over the city from beneath the ground, and more were succumbing to its powerful effects even as he walked. Few seemed immune to the illness's deadly reach, and Dagoras was one of them, though it was not so strange to him. He was protected, the Hand of Sauron promised him that, and he had spoken true. These halls that he walked were usually a hub of activity, and now only a few cris-crossed his path thanks to Thûl-in-Gyrth. Dagoras hated crowds, so this emptiness was a profound relief. It was easy then to spot the Chamberlain like a furious storm tearing down the halls in a rage. Like a moth to a flame, Dagoras was inexplicably drawn to trouble and mischief, and so he dogged Marroc's steps without knowing precisely why, he felt that this was an important thing to do. He saw the scene before him unfold like a story in a book as the Chamberlain clashed with his beautiful daughter, Gwenneth. Dagoras had known the man to be controlling when it came to his daughter, and now he knew that he was witnessing an explosion that had been a long time coming. While he felt like grinning like a cat, he restrained himself and drew his mouth in a severe line, as though he were watching something grave and sad unfold before him. But, when Marroc laid a hand upon Gwenneth, Dagoras knew that his time had come and he stepped out of the crowd that had formed to watch the drama. In a fine display of chivalry, Dagoras strode to Gwenneth's side and extended a hand so that he might help her to her feet. "Are you alright, my lady?" He asked with a note of concern imbedded in his voice. He turned swiftly though to the Chamberlain and, choosing his words as carefully as he could, addressed the girl's mad father. By all accounts, he could arrest Marroc for accosting a fellow citizen of Gondor, but he did not wish to alienate a potentially valuable man from him. "See here," He began sternly, "There is never any need for family to behave in such a way. Minas Tirith is a city of peace, where we solve our difficulties civily," He announced to the small crowd that had gathered. "And know this: that those who break the rules shall have punishment doled out as is seen fit," He finished, a hint of a threat in his voice. He hoped that Marroc would know that he Dagoras could have arrested him in a heartbeat for his violent actions, but that he did not. But, he walked a fine line, for if he did not attempt to lay down the law, his valuable position as warden would be in jeopardy. |
| Deleted User | 25 Nov 2008, 02:23 AM Post #4 |
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Gwenneth had been so surprised by the wicked lash of violence brought on by her father that she hadn't been prepared for it. So the Chamberlains magnitude easily overpowered hers and whipped her about with a relentless amount of force. It sent her flying, toppling over her skirts and to the floor without a single hope of catching herself before impact. Her knee caps cracked against the hard flooring first and took the brunt of the collision, but she still sputtered into a tumble roll a few feet from there that left her a little more than disorientated and terrified to death. Her eyes stung with fresh tears, as the affects of the ones she'd wept for her mother hadn't completely warn off, and threatened to spill over and rush down her cheek. Harshly she gasped for breath and bit back the tears. Desperate to compose herself in the midst of this chaos. Convicted to hold on to what little dignity she retained in front of the growing mass of people that looked on with horror stained expressions and shock about it all. She could pick out the lady Inniel, the sweet looking, quiet one she had always hoped to become friends with, standing near the front of the crowd torn between an obvious desire to help and a fear of the Chamberlain herself. Which Gwenneth was glad for, it was bad enough this display was done in public, but she didn't know what she would have done if Inniel or any one had tried to step in and got hurt in the process. But then, as if marking her thoughts Dagoras stepped out from the mass and showed no hesitation in approaching Gwenneths side. This slowed the Chamberlains approach, studying Dagoras with razor sharp eyes as he helped Gwenneth to her feet. Full of aches, potential bruises and a wounded pride, Gwenneth managed to nod her head yes to Dagoras as she rubbed her hand around the now tender spot on her wrist and flickered her frightened gaze back to her father. The Chamberlain had become eerily quiet in his stance. Staring at nothing but Gwenneth with a swell of hate in his eyes that felt wrong in its existence alone, having been shared between father and daughter. Then he moved and the crowd around them seemed to shiver at once with uncertainty. His fluid maneuvering seemed unnatural and wrong. As if he was possessed and only moments away from spinning his head in full circles on its neck. He stopped beside Dagoras, less than an arms length from Gwenneth and started to cackle. The sort of laugh that children heard in their nightmares and people recoiled from. It was sour and uncontrolled, gut turning and dreadful to the ears. For there was not an ounce of pleasantry in it but soulless and devoid of human emotion all together. Abruptly the Chamberlain spit at the floor towards Gwenneth's feet. "I spit on Minas Tirith." he rasped. "On this country! On this King! But most of all on you," Saddorant struck out with uncanny speed and backhanded Gwenneth across the cheek. "My whoring! worthless! daughter! Damn you and your precious King! I'll see you dead!" He rapidly spun around, pointing a single scrawny finger at every face that blurred by in one motion as he started to slink away. "ALL OF YOU! I'll see you all DEAD!!" Then he turned on his heel and shoved his way violently through the crowds to make his escape. The mass of people so silent and stunned, his departing symphony was not but the sounds of his own shoes slapping the ground in echo of his steps. |
| Deleted User | 25 Nov 2008, 03:10 PM Post #5 |
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A small sigh of relief escaped from Inniel’s lips as she saw the warden come to Gwenneth’s aid. After the Chamberlain (whom she now recognized the man as, after riffling through mental images in her mind) had sent her sprawling, she feared that he would repeat his action once more once Gwenneth was on the floor defenseless. She was glad at the warden’s intervention and knew that authority had returned to its proper place once more. The young woman frowned as she saw Gwenneth stroke her wrist, and had begun to realize how powerful the throw had been. Her thoughts turned back to the excerpt she had read earlier, concentrating on finding an effective balm to heal the Lady, no matter how shallow the bruises seemed from far away. Perhaps she would even escort her to the Houses of Healing. Of course, Inniel was much too anxious to enter, fearing that one of the healers would discover her illness. A sharp cackle snapped her out of her reverie. Her head immediately twisted in the Chamberlain’s direction, her limbs rigid. Is the man mad? she thought. If King Elessar had been present, there was no doubt that he, too, would be concerned at the very least. She inclined her head a bit toward the direction of her study, wondering if Alyan could hear… Indeed, she was relieved that she had the sensibility to tell him to stay back. This was not a place for a child to be. “I spit on Minas Tirith. On this country! On this King!” Her eyes widened in apprehension, her thoughts unsettled. She shook her head a bit as if pitying the man. His temper was furious – surely he did not mean such things… Or did he? For a brief moment, Inniel didn’t know whether to admire the man for his harangue or to simply label him as a lunatic. Ultimately, she leaned more toward the latter. There was a sudden slap, causing Inniel to wince as if the palm had hit her cheek as well. His cruel words to Gwenneth struck her and, for once, she felt as if the grudge she held against her own father had lessened considerably. Family… She wondered what had happened between the two to make the man seem so hostile. “ALL OF YOU! I’ll see you all DEAD!” The Chamberlain’s finger had whizzed by rapidly, but Inniel still froze when it landed on her for a brief second. This threat of his disturbed her and she wished that Istuion were here so that she could hide behind his tall figure. Suddenly she felt her lungs tighten and begin to ache. Instinctively her hands sprang up to her mouth, preparing to muffle the cough when it came. Her head was bent low, concealing her face. Not now, she pleaded, her eyes closed as if to convey her message more effectively. She held it in, but her coughs threatened to break lose any moment. She heard the retreating footsteps of the Chamberlain and reprieve swept through her. However, it did little to aid her in her inner predicament. The main hall was eerily silent now, and if her coughs managed to break loose they would, no doubt, be noticed. |
| Deleted User | 11 Dec 2008, 01:51 AM Post #6 |
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As the Chamberlain approached Dagoras, he felt that he must be mad to do so. The warden of Minas Tirith, was at the prime of his life, and the only thing that the Chamberlain overpowered him in was years. He stopped a mere foot away from them, and Dagoras's eyes narrowed as he tried to gauge just what Marroc thought he was doing. Then he laughed, causing Dagoras to flinch and followed it up by spitting on the floor at Gwenneth's feet. While Dagoras recalled that some tribes in the desert areas spat to show respect - as the body's water was a precious resource, he was quite certain that respect was the farthest thing from Marroc's mind. He felt anger surge through him, and for a precious moment he could not exactly know why it was that he was angry. Was he angry at Marroc for his disrespect for him or for the city? The latter was a horrific thought and he hastily pushed it out of his mind. "I spit on Minas Tirith. On this country! On this King! But most of all on you." With an uncanny speed, Marroc lashed out, and struck Gwenneth, while Dagoras had still been too preoccupied with wonderings on whether Minas Tirith was turning him soft, that he had gravely miscalculated the Chamberlain. Well, no more mistakes, Dagoras would see to that. "My whoring! worthless! daughter! Damn you and your precious King! I'll see you dead! "ALL OF YOU! I'll see you all DEAD!!" Damning the King was a capital offense, there would be nothing that Dagoras could do to stave off punishment for him, and nor did he desire to at this moment. "You," He said, pointing a finger at a timid looking girl in the crowd. "Take this lady and see that she is cared for," and with that he ran after Marroc who had taken the opportunity to flee. He was easy to catch, him being the older and Dagoras being the younger. Grabbing him by the collar of his cloak, Dagoras slammed him against a wall and then dragged him into a nearby deserted corridor. "So just where do you think you're running off to, eh?" He said in a hiss, the growl of his Corsair accent leaking through his teeth. |
| Deleted User | 22 Dec 2008, 01:13 AM Post #7 |
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It all happened so quickly that Gwenneth felt as though the world spun rapidly around her while she remained rooted and immovable to the earth. Even as the hard ridged knuckles of the Chamberlains hands scolded hotly across her cheek the shock kept her grounded this time and standing upright, though her face and head twisted wickedly to one side with the blow. Tears welled up inside of her eyes and for the first time she felt she did not have the strength to look to her father again. His vile, malicious words were deafening to none so much as they were to Gwenneth. This man, this dastardly imposture who swore death to Gondor and cursed her so fervently surely could not be her father. Gwenneth mustered up all of her strength to bite back the tears and slowly elevate her eyes to the fleeing Chamberlain. The loud slapping boots shadowed by the sudden and determined steps of Dagoras' that followed after her father only a split second after barking out his commands. The pair disappeared quickly out of sight and left only a stone strong silence chilled as deaths tomb lingering behind. "Lady Inniel?" Gwenneth manages to whisper in the woman's direction, not oblivious to the sign of struggle the female herself is starting to show. "Come, walk with me back to my chambers won't you?" ~ * ~ Dagoras was no small or timid man. His body weight was used without mercy and the connection between it and the hard stone of the walls did not occur without the predictable measure of pain. To himself though, the Chamberlain boasted a high tolerance to such physical things and merely grunted with irritable impatience and out rightly rude curses tossed back to Dagoras as he was drawn back into the belly of a secluded corridor. "You no good, son of a!" The Chamberlain scolded. "I'll have your head! I'll have it too! You're as foul as me! You are and I know it! You arrest me and I'll turn you in too!" "So go ahead!" Saddorant dared with very little awareness of what was actually going on. "Turn me in to your precious Elessar." |
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