Choices of Death
Morinvala quickly stole out of the Study and into the quiet Halls. No light fell upon the passages, darkness and shadows crept, leaving Morinvala feeling eerily out of place. The dark Halls swallowed into one another as she entered into more of the silent gloom. Her heart began to race the thought of her being lost crept up in her throat. She resisted the urge to curl up against the wall and wait until the sun rose, killing the night. But the words of Illuvator ran through her mind, I cannot spare them, only you can save them. The power you now hold is enough…
Suddenly a sliver of light fell upon the marble floor, ahead of her. Voices crept into the Hall, angry and loud. Morinvala pattered towards the Light and Voices, and came upon the door of the Great Throne Hall. The sliver of light was produced from a crack in the unclosed oak door. She closed her left eye and pressed the right one closely to the crack, seeing nothing but the glittering of the thrones. A hand closed around Morinvala’s mouth, pulling her backwards. She let out a muffled cry and fell on her attacker. His face flashed in the dim light, though, Morinvala recognised it instantly.
“Raelin!” She hissed, “C’nin ‘tei neés mire?” (Why are you here?)
“Hush! We cannot speak of it now, They are here!” He retorted.
Raelin remained silent his eyes fixed steadily at the door. Morinvala drew closer to the crack once more. She peered through and let out a short gasp. Noldorian Guards now filled the room, more entered through from the opposite entrance that led into the garden. Three were led by their Leader, Narsim, a powerful Noldorian Guard. They carried her father’s bloodied body into the Throne Hall, and laid him upon the floor. Tears began to form in Morinvala’s bloodshot eyes as his dead gaze became fixed upon the door, looking deep into Morinvala. Though, he was dead, she felt his spirit still stirring within, unwanting and unable to leave until all was completed.
A scream entered into the Hall, as the Noldor led Vannae’s battered and bruised body from the Garden. They threw her down harshly next to her husband’s slain body. She covered Saleesa’s body with her own, drowning his face in her salty, spiteful tears. Narsim approached her, sword drawn. He grabbed a fistful of her dark hair and pulled her backwards. She let out a strangled cry as her skull cracked against the stone floor. A small trickle of blood poured from her hair. The Noldorian pulled her up and swept her head back, exposing her throat. Vannae’s body, paralysed, moved as though she was a lifeless doll. Her eyes, glazed over and dazed, stared up at Narsim, a trail of spittle crawled down from her mouth.
“Where are they?” He hissed, “Tell me, or die.”
Vannae remained silent, a smile spread from her lips, “I shall die anyway.” She slurred sleepily.
Narsim pressed the sharpened Noldorian sword against her neck, blood seeping from the small cut. Vannae’s glazed eyes grimaced at the pain, Narsim laughed at her.
“What I shall do to them, if I find them, will be less than pleasant than to what I am doing to you. You are dying, I see, yet in death, you will not abandon or betray your family. I advise against this, for in the Halls of Mandos, you shall suffer the loneliness and loss of being with your family. Tell me where they are, and you shall be together for all eternity.”
Vannae blinked unwillingly and remained silent. The suffering she will have in the Halls of Mandos will be less painful than that of the knowledge that she betrayed her family.
Through words slurred with blood she sealed her fate, “Never. I will never betray my family.”
Angrily, the Noldorian slid the blade across Vannae’s fair neck, her body crumbled to the ground, writhing in defeat. Until, at last, her body moved no more, but laid still and silent, against the dead body of her beloved.
“What shall we do now?” One Guard asked.
“Search the Castle, than, burn it if nothing you can find.” Narsim snarled, sheathing his bloodied sword.
What was given to Morinvala to steady herself as she watched her mother’s death, dissipated. Letting out an angry cry, that frightened both her brother and herself, she sprang through the door, much to the surprise of the Noldor. Her small figure cast a long shadow behind her, her face furrowed in anger. Narsim took one look at her and laughed, the malice in his voice spreading through the castle. Morinvala stepped back in surprise, than regained her composure and stood tall and proud.
“Princess of the Moriquendi, it is a pleasure to finally meet you.”
Morinvala stared at him, anger rising inside her.
“Do you see the body’s of your slain parents around you?”
“Yes, I do.” Morinvala spoke, unmoving.
“Then you know you have just sealed your fate by crossing through that threshold.” He spoke, unsheathing his sword and pointing it towards her.
Confidence spread through Morinvala, coming from what had been gifted to her in her Dream. “What murdering fate, you have stricken my family. You shall yield before me, begging forgiveness for what blasphemous hands that did perform those murderous acts.”
The Hall stood silently, as the last of her voice echoed across the walls. Narsim blinked at her in surprise, then advanced forward, “Or else?”
“You shall die by my hands, all of you. For the Light of the Trees flows within my blood, and the peace and blessing of Illuvator goes with me.”
“You lie!” He snapped, advancing forward more quickly, inches away from the child’s face he stopped. Morinvala’s hands reached out in front of her, the sword, and other’s from the Guard’s, lifted into the air. Dagger’s, Sword’s and Bow’s, stood suspended in the air, above the amazed Noldorian’s. Morinvala’s eye’s glanced to the side, and the weapon’s swept through the air and remained by the West wall.
The Guard’s stared at Morinvala in disbelief, “Do you yield?” Her small voice spoke up.
“Never,” Narsim snarled, standing his ground. The Guard’s followed in tune, some reluctantly.
“So be it,” she whispered.
Her eyes clouded over as the Power of the Tree’s recoiled from her blood, seeping through her skin. The reaction was instant, squalls of Wind swept through the Hall, tables overturned, lamp’s blew out. Many of the Noldorian’s were lifted into the air from the strong gusts of Wind. Morinvala’s plained eyes shot to the Weapon’s, instantly, many were pointed at the lifted Guard’s. Many cried out before they were slaughtered by their own weapon’s. This all occured, until, at last, Narsim remained alone, his follower’s suspended in the air, dead.
“Do you wish to slaughter me? As though I were a stock pig ready for your table?” He screamed at Morinvala.
Her hardened eyes stared at him, “My family you have slain, yet, you mock me when you stand on the edge of death. You are a murderous fiend from which there is no escape. I hope the suffering of Mandos dwells with you forever.”
The sword, that in which Narsim possessed turned on its master. The edge pressed against his neck, as it slowly moved forward, fear lept in the Noldorian eyes. Quickly and silently the sword moved forward. The Wind’s collapsed and many thud’s echoed as the bodies of the dead fell to the ground. Morinvala glanced at her feet as Narsim’s head rolled across the floor and stopped at her feet, mouth gaping in silent screams. She kicked it away, disgusted.
Raelin entered into the Throne Hall, he watched Morinvala uneasily. What he had witnessed both surprised and frightened him. He crept towards the bodies of his deceased family and froze as Morinvala turned to face him.
“You are King now,” she whispered tearfully.
She collapsed to the floor in tears, weeping bitterly. Raelin hesitated then started towards her. He knelt down and swept her into his arms. Raelin held her quietly until she cried herself to a sleepless dream.
Author’s Note: Don’t worry! This isn’t the end! There is more to come…