AelKennyr Rhiano
In the dark recesses of the cavern, the cold oozed from the rough hewn walls and chilled the sweat that beaded along his spine, even as sweat dripped off his face and brow, In the center was the fiery, redhot pit, baking the stone beneath his knees, beneath his palms. While he panted and sweated from the heat of the pit, the cold of the walls seeping into his torn shirt into his very marrow make him shiver.
Outside his mind, the world was night, and Olwe had fought off sleep as long as he could. Now he was trapped in the nightmare world within his mind, devised by the Voice, and the Teleri Lord was paying for his resistance.
His mouth was parched, sucked dry as was his body. His arms trembled with the fatigue of supporting his body, else he would be lying face down on the hot cavern floor. A puff of wind against his cheek, and the voice was speaking, silken soft as an invisible hand rested on the weary elf's shoulder. "Tell me, Olwe," it purred as the hand tightened. "Tell me how it feels to see all you treasure slip through your grasp." A strand of his hair lifted up, and if felt like fingers ran through the strand. "It must burn, it must chill, it must gall you."
Olwe did not answer. He gasped for breath against the heat of the pit, his head hanging down. He closed his eyes as the Voice continued.
"She is mine, Olwe. You do know that?"
Dragging in a ragged breath, Olwe opened his eyes, his mind fuddled. His entire being had been centered on drawing in one needed breath after pain wracked another. He repeated back, stupidly. "She?"
"Oh, yesss," hissed the Voice. Then, in a perfect imitation of Comet's voice, it mocked him, "You are the only one who has ever held my heart."
Olwe gave a cry of rage. With newfound strength, he pushed against the floor, rocked back on his heels, and clenched his fists, raising them shoulder level. His body tensed, too, muscles bunching as for combat as he yelled out hoarsely. "Abominable Filth! Deceitful, Evil, Foul ...THING! Face Me! FACE ME!!"
His memory showed her as he last beheld her...white haired, weary, sad, fearful...yes, that was fear in her eyes. And love. He knew there was love. His sweet Cousin, gentle Cousin, who came into his life as girl and is now a Queen, whose honey blonde hair smelled of flowers after a rain, whose skin was soft as rose petals, whose smile was quick and welcoming.
The Voice spoke at his ear. Olwe whirled around, punching the air in vain as it spoke but connecting with nothing. "She is in dire need, Olwe. So lost she is, so frightened, so alone. Where is her Cousin? Where is Mighty Olwe? Her ...." and the Voice broke out in raucuous laughter at Olwe's vain's attempts...."Hero? You are here, powerless."
Olwe, maddened at his helplessness, gave an animal cry of pure rage, his face blood red, the vein on his forehead pulsing. The veins on his neck stood out like cords of rope used to moor the swanships, and he dropped his hands, still clenched into fists into his lap.
"Look, " commanded the Voice, and the cavern melted away, and Olwe was in a dungeon. There was his Beloved Cousin, and before stood a dreadful, draconic figure, standing upon two legs. He could almost smell its fetid breath, and behind him another creature stood, a look of relish upon his face. He grins, the creature, as Comet closes her eyes. But then his brave Cousin lashes out, striking the hideous monstrous creature before her. He gives a shout of encouragement and stands as though to help her. But the Voice whispers, "You cannot touch or help her. We are both here and not here Ghosts at her final moments. "
Olwe stands but cannot move. Rooted to the spot, unable to take a step forward, he growls a curse at the Voice, at his impotence. "Oh, good," the Voice answered. "Rage, Teleri, rage as you watch." And unable to do naught else, Olwe looks at his brave Cousin.
The demon thing had her fist in one hand and had wrapped the other around her neck. Olwe screamed out, "NO! NO! Take me!" His stomach roils, sickened, as he watches. His hands clench into fists and his whole body shakes with fury. Then the dragon thing lifted her off the ground and slowly chokes her.
Then, the dungeon disappeared, and Olwe was back in the cavern. He felt the force that kept him from aiding his cousin release him and he sunk, gasping, with a long moan to the floor. "Comet," he whispered. "No, no."
"You mourn for her, little worm?" asks the Voice.
Olwe took one more breath, unaware of the heat of the pit, the cold of the walls, the feel of the floor beneath. His entire being had narrowed its focus on one thing...one name, "Comet," he whispered. He shook his head, his limp hair clinging to his face. "You lie," he tells the Voice.
"You said that once before, Olwe, " crooned the Voice. "Did I lie, or did what I say come to pass?"
Olwe closed his eyes and gave no answer. A dread settled upon his shoulders, curled up in the pit of his stomach. His heart gave a tight squeeze. He remembers how it felt to hold her when she last saw him, how it was to squeeze her hand, kiss her hair. No, she who has been such a part of him...she could not be gone.
"Wake, Olwe, " ordered the Voice, a mocking, lilting tone. "And when you receive word of her disappearance, you will know I speak truth."
Olwe shook his head dumbly. "You lie," he repeated dumbly, automatically.
"Wake, worm, and see."
Olwe awoken, sat bolt upright in his bed in Alqualonde, and waited.
> Next
Outside his mind, the world was night, and Olwe had fought off sleep as long as he could. Now he was trapped in the nightmare world within his mind, devised by the Voice, and the Teleri Lord was paying for his resistance.
His mouth was parched, sucked dry as was his body. His arms trembled with the fatigue of supporting his body, else he would be lying face down on the hot cavern floor. A puff of wind against his cheek, and the voice was speaking, silken soft as an invisible hand rested on the weary elf's shoulder. "Tell me, Olwe," it purred as the hand tightened. "Tell me how it feels to see all you treasure slip through your grasp." A strand of his hair lifted up, and if felt like fingers ran through the strand. "It must burn, it must chill, it must gall you."
Olwe did not answer. He gasped for breath against the heat of the pit, his head hanging down. He closed his eyes as the Voice continued.
"She is mine, Olwe. You do know that?"
Dragging in a ragged breath, Olwe opened his eyes, his mind fuddled. His entire being had been centered on drawing in one needed breath after pain wracked another. He repeated back, stupidly. "She?"
"Oh, yesss," hissed the Voice. Then, in a perfect imitation of Comet's voice, it mocked him, "You are the only one who has ever held my heart."
Olwe gave a cry of rage. With newfound strength, he pushed against the floor, rocked back on his heels, and clenched his fists, raising them shoulder level. His body tensed, too, muscles bunching as for combat as he yelled out hoarsely. "Abominable Filth! Deceitful, Evil, Foul ...THING! Face Me! FACE ME!!"
His memory showed her as he last beheld her...white haired, weary, sad, fearful...yes, that was fear in her eyes. And love. He knew there was love. His sweet Cousin, gentle Cousin, who came into his life as girl and is now a Queen, whose honey blonde hair smelled of flowers after a rain, whose skin was soft as rose petals, whose smile was quick and welcoming.
The Voice spoke at his ear. Olwe whirled around, punching the air in vain as it spoke but connecting with nothing. "She is in dire need, Olwe. So lost she is, so frightened, so alone. Where is her Cousin? Where is Mighty Olwe? Her ...." and the Voice broke out in raucuous laughter at Olwe's vain's attempts...."Hero? You are here, powerless."
Olwe, maddened at his helplessness, gave an animal cry of pure rage, his face blood red, the vein on his forehead pulsing. The veins on his neck stood out like cords of rope used to moor the swanships, and he dropped his hands, still clenched into fists into his lap.
"Look, " commanded the Voice, and the cavern melted away, and Olwe was in a dungeon. There was his Beloved Cousin, and before stood a dreadful, draconic figure, standing upon two legs. He could almost smell its fetid breath, and behind him another creature stood, a look of relish upon his face. He grins, the creature, as Comet closes her eyes. But then his brave Cousin lashes out, striking the hideous monstrous creature before her. He gives a shout of encouragement and stands as though to help her. But the Voice whispers, "You cannot touch or help her. We are both here and not here Ghosts at her final moments. "
Olwe stands but cannot move. Rooted to the spot, unable to take a step forward, he growls a curse at the Voice, at his impotence. "Oh, good," the Voice answered. "Rage, Teleri, rage as you watch." And unable to do naught else, Olwe looks at his brave Cousin.
The demon thing had her fist in one hand and had wrapped the other around her neck. Olwe screamed out, "NO! NO! Take me!" His stomach roils, sickened, as he watches. His hands clench into fists and his whole body shakes with fury. Then the dragon thing lifted her off the ground and slowly chokes her.
Then, the dungeon disappeared, and Olwe was back in the cavern. He felt the force that kept him from aiding his cousin release him and he sunk, gasping, with a long moan to the floor. "Comet," he whispered. "No, no."
"You mourn for her, little worm?" asks the Voice.
Olwe took one more breath, unaware of the heat of the pit, the cold of the walls, the feel of the floor beneath. His entire being had narrowed its focus on one thing...one name, "Comet," he whispered. He shook his head, his limp hair clinging to his face. "You lie," he tells the Voice.
"You said that once before, Olwe, " crooned the Voice. "Did I lie, or did what I say come to pass?"
Olwe closed his eyes and gave no answer. A dread settled upon his shoulders, curled up in the pit of his stomach. His heart gave a tight squeeze. He remembers how it felt to hold her when she last saw him, how it was to squeeze her hand, kiss her hair. No, she who has been such a part of him...she could not be gone.
"Wake, Olwe, " ordered the Voice, a mocking, lilting tone. "And when you receive word of her disappearance, you will know I speak truth."
Olwe shook his head dumbly. "You lie," he repeated dumbly, automatically.
"Wake, worm, and see."
Olwe awoken, sat bolt upright in his bed in Alqualonde, and waited.
> Next