For the love of a brother

[Naiah]

I dont really write stories on my own, I like creating them with others more, but I figured I would put a "taste" of what I have written before.
Yes its Lord of the Rings, though with a twist as the main character (Winddancer) is an elf that was tortured into serving Sauron.



The steam rose lazily like agile serpents. She watched in silence, her fingers sliding silently through the water, across the surface, creating more of them. The water smelled of roses, something she had paid extra for. She could not recall a time when she had lingered in a tub filled with hot sweet smelling water. Truth be told she would probably have to think all the way back to when she still lived in Lorien. Lingering in sweet smelling tubs of warm water was not exactly a perk one gained in Mordor. Closing her eyes, she felt her body respond to the warm liquid, her muscles relaxing more than they had in years. Had it really been years? Exhaling slowly she tried to count the months since she had departed from Mordor, however she was too exhausted and when it came down to it, she did not really care anymore. She had made her choice. And most likely a fatal one. Deserting the service of Sauron was bound to have a fatal outcome, but perhaps the Dark Lord would be stripped of taking her life, as she doubted she would last much longer like this.

Eyes still closed, she felt the memories pushing on at the back of her mind and slid down below the water. The silence was complete but for the beating of her own heart. The very heart that had grown so cold, so full of hatred. She was so tired. It would be so easy to just fall asleep here and never wake up. All the torment and suffering would be over. There would be no more memories. As if on cue, the wall broke and the memories flooded her tired mind once more.

Laughing she threw herself down into the lush green grass, laying down next to her brother Aragûr who was still leaning up against the huge boulder carving intricate details into the tiny wolf he was making out of wood. Rolling onto her stomach she watched him for a while, a smile crossing her lips when she noted the intense concentration crossing his face. Suddenly the air was forced out of her lungs as her youngest brother Lanthir jumped onto her back yelling giddy-up and laughing his delightful carefree laugh that always got his older siblings to join in, despite their mood. Turning over onto her back, she grabbed her brother and quickly found that sweet spot under his chin that always had him squealing with laughter.
Laughing himself, Aragûr had to raise his voice to be heard above his young brother's laughing protests, ”Alright you two! Look Lanthir, it's all done”. Releasing her brother, Winddancer watched as Lanthir reached out and took the wolf from his hands, twisting and turning it to examine it better. She could see it was absolutely exquisite and while Lanthir might not be old enough to truly value all the work that had been put into the carving, his delight was apparent none the less. Jumping up and stepping on his sisters stomach in the process, he leaned over and gave his older brother a huge hug. Only just managing to hug him back and ruffle his thick golden hair, Aragûr had to laugh when Lanthir let out a vicious growl and ran off holding the wolf out as if it was the wolf running.
”Dont go too far!” was all Winddancer could muster before she collapsed onto the grass once more, completely out of breath.

Having composed herself somewhat she rolled onto her side, pulling at a flower that tickled her face and with true admiration said, ”It was truly exquisite Aragûr, some of your best work”. The loving smile he sent her, more than thanked her for the words and with a shrug he merely replied ”It was nothing”, knowing she would protest and claim otherwise, so before she could, he jumped up and took a few steps forward, looking for Lanthir.

Sitting up and ready to protest just as her brother knew she would, she saw his face pale and his smile transform into horror. Alarmed she looked towards where her brother was looking, yet could not see what it was that had her brother so terrified. Pulling at her long silk gown, she managed to get almost to her feet, when Aragûr suddenly grabbed a hold of her to a point where he was really hurting her. About to cry out in pain and confusion, he clapped his hand over her mouth while pulling her behind the boulder he had previously been leaning up against. Once behind the boulder, he finally met his sisters eyes, the terror in them almost causing her to throw up. He kept his hand over her mouth and held her in a tight grasp as he finally shared with her what it was that he had seen. ”Orcs..”
It seemed as if her heart stopped beating, the world seemed to fade and it wasnt until she felt Aragûr shake her that she snapped out of it. As she realised that Lanthir was still out where he could be seen, she struggled to free herself, her heartbroken scream stiffled by her brothers hand, oblivious to his pleas to be quiet. Grabbing hold of her even more tighter than before, his long slender fingers digging painfully into her arm, he forced her to look into his eyes as he whispered ”Be... quiet...”. Something in his voice must have penetrated the sheer panic she was feeling as she settled down, her screams reduced to sobs. Minutes that lasted as long as years passed and finally Aragûr let go of the hold on his sister and carefully peered around the boulder, letting go of the breath he had been holding back as he saw the orcs were gone. Unsheathing his dagger, he made his way out from behind the boulder, staying somewhat crouched down as he moved out into the open, his sister grabbing hold of his shirt as she carefully followed.

They spent hours looking for Lanthir, not daring to call out his name in case the orcs were still nearby. As the sun began to set, the shadows growing longer and longer, Winddancer's panic grew, the thought of her brother out here alone in the dark too much for her to contemplate. Weary, her face stained with tears and grime she pushed aside some low hanging branches and in that instant her entire world fell apart. There, at the base of the tree lay the delicately carved wolf that Lanthir had been given. Falling to her knees she gently picked the carving up, her hands shaking like leaves in a strong wind, letting out a deafening scream as her heart broke.

The same time she screamed in her memory she burst through the surface of the water, letting out an almost animalistic cry of pain. The loud scream had obviously been heard by the occupants of the Inn and the chambermaid as well as the Innkeeper came bursting in through the door to see what was going on, the Innkeeper weilding a pitchfork and waving it threateningly at the imagined assailent. Sitting slumped over her knees that she had pulled up to her chin, she merely whispered one hoarse word. "Leave."

Shaking his head and pushing the trembling chambermaid out in front of him, he mumbled something to the effect of a demented female dog under his breath, forgetting completely that elves had a very keen sense of hearing. Though she heard, her mind was elsewhere, the salty tears falling freely down her cheeks that were blushed from the warmth of the water. So tired. If only she could just sleep.
But rest was not an option. She had to find him. She had given up her life in Mordor to once and for all learn what had happened to him, even putting her own life on the line. But so far she had only run into dead ends. Sobbing uncontrolably she recalled the day almost two years ago where she had made her way to Dol Guldur and learned that her brother had been right there at the same time as herself. Something inside her had snapped that day. She had ridden out of Mordor with the knowledge that he had been so close for years. The records stated that he had been transferred to Ostigurth to work in the mines. So she had headed there, however her hopes were dashed immediately as soon as she read the records there. There was no mention of him at all, except for a small entry that stated a group of elves had escaped. Seeing as no one in Ostigurth had heard of him, this tiny entry was all she had to go on, the little added comment that they were seen headed towards Khand. She knew within her soul that this was a fools errand, that it was unlikely that he would still be in Khand all these centuries later, that if he had escaped, he would have then made his way back home. But logic didnt apply anymore as she found herself turning her destrier in the direction of Khand and making her way out of Mordor and out of the service of Sauron.
Slowly the sobs subsided and she finally rose to her feet, the steam still billowing from her body. Pulling her long black hair over one shoulder  in order to squeeze the excess water out, she revealed her back. Pale white skin riddled with faint pink scars that snaked their way across her back, much like veins in marble. They were better healed than they would have been if she had been a human, though if one looked carefully one could still see all the faint scars. However the one that stood out the most was the branding on her right shoulder. A big red eye. Reflexively she fingered it before she stepped out of the tub and retrieved the towel that lay close to the fireplace.

Looking into the fire she thought back on the conversation she had had with the old storyteller she had shared a fire with a few days ago. She had mostly kept to herself these past two years, however she had been forced to speak to others to gain more information. She had learned that this old man told a story about elves. It had not been hard to find him, though it had taken a few coins to get him to tell the story. She could have used force, but the man was so old she was afraid that he might die from the fright before she could get the full story out of him and had therefore opted to use the more safe choice. The story did not offer much information and it was likely that it had changed a hundred times since the first telling hundreds of years ago, however it gave her the next place to search. According to the story, a group of elves had been sold to the Prince of Kas Shadoul. This was of course over a thousand years ago, the Prince would be dead, but who knew, just maybe he could still be serving the descendants. Just maybe..

Finding the newest Prince had been easy. It was not like he hid in his palace. Over the course of a few days she had watched how he drank himself senseless and visited several different brothels. She had entertained an idea of appraoching him there, however the brothels did not give the needed privacy. She did not know how long it would take for her to gain the information she so desperately needed. So instead she had thought of another way, one that began with a bath. Afterall living on the rode for two years did not do much for ones hygiene. Smelling sweetly of roses she now stood a better chance of carrying out her plan and having dried herself, she donned the exquisitely made silk dress that only complimented her natural elven beauty and hugged her slightly thin though agile body in all the right places. She knew she could not hide her red eyes, so she had deliberately chosen nighttime to talk to the Prince. Her long thick black hair was left loose, the wavy curls making their way down her back and spilling over her shoulders.

Slipping the dagger into its sheath that was strapped to her leg, she quietly made her way out of the inn unnoticed. Gaining access to the Prince's room had been less dangerous than she had thought and she often wondered if the guards were even interested in protecting the Prince. Crawling over walls and roof tops was only made harder by wearing a dress, not because she was in any danger of being seen. Swinging agilely up onto the balcony that she had seen the Prince use on several occassions, hoping that it was indeed his bedroom, she carefully made her way in through the unlocked balcony doors and carefully swept the room looking for any guards, but finding none.

The waiting was the hardest. Pacing the thick luscious carpets with her bare feet, her thoughts inevitably returned to their preferred subject. One she found it harder and harder to rid herself of. She knew she was slowly losing her mind, she knew that if this Prince did not provide her with the information she needed, that she might then completely slide into madness. So tired. It would be so easy to just let go, to just give in. To delve into that darkness forever.
Having paused by the balcony doors, she looked up into the sky, the many jeweled sparkles not registering. As she stood there, the doubt returned. It had been a constant companion these past years. Had she made the right choice? Did she even want to find her brother? Would he want to see her? What if he was dead? What if he had been dead all along? Shoulders slumped as if carrying a tremendous weight, it took a while for her to register that a figure was approaching in the courtyard below. Blinking furiously she clenched her teeth and forced herself to focus on the task at hand. Making her way over to the massive bed, she lay down on her side, leaning on one of her arms and waited for the Prince to enter.

She did not have to wait long, the doors soon opened and entering the Prince made his way across the room, oblivious of her prescence there in the dark room. Relieved that the doors were closed behind him, she rolled her eyes as she listened to him retch out on the balcony. Shrugging her shoulder she guessed she should count her blessings that it wasnt on her, though most likely she wasnt out of the woods on that yet. Pulling one of the shoulder straps down to reveal her shoulder, she waited for him to return to the room, making sure to move to a spot where the moonlight would show just enough of her and hopefully hide the color of her eyes long enough for her to execute her plan.