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Author Topic: Interracial tensions and whatnot  (Read 667 times)


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Interracial tensions and whatnot
« on: January 14, 2020, 09:49:23 AM »
{T.A. 2941}
'' Breg! Torech hen dad*. ''

Everything was a blur. Elvish voices mingled with incomprehensible screams; it was as if the sounds were coming out of a deep well from a faraway place.

'' Gweltha thang sí.** ''

The unknown voices were gradually becoming clearer. The same could hardly be said about the patient's vision. Eden could only discern dark figures, unable  to get used to the blinding, painful light. The vague silhouettes she was seeing hardly resembled the medical personnel that was tending to her.

The young female felt an overwhelming numbness. She tried to move time and time again but her own body would not cooperate. A surge of panic ran through her but it was as if someone had completely robbed her of her ability to move her limbs.

'' Where am I? '', croaked out the human girl in a pitiful attempt to speak but all that came out were a few unintelligible words. Even speaking was now a challenge, and a very painful one at that due to the damage she had caused to her throat by her agonising screams earlier.

Her head felt heavy. A deafening buzzing sound rang through her ears and once again her vision darkened.

───※ ·❆· ※───

It had been a few weeks since the victory in the Battle of the Five Armies, yet Mirkwood lacked the festive spirit one would expect. On the contrary, there was an uncomfortable stiffness in the air, almost too suffocating at times. But of course, how could they celebrate when they had suffered so much damage? No, this was no time to drink and dance and laugh; it was no time to mourn either, though. It was time to regroup, to plan, to protect the Woodland Realm for it was now evident that the ancient Evil had returned.

Completely oblivious to the happenings of the outside world ever since the end of the battle, Eden had been cooped up in a chamber for several weeks. Thanks to the immediate medical treatment from the Woodland Elves, the human girl had barely managed to escape death. Her hardships were hardly over though; in fact, the hard part -that of recovery, both mental and physical- had only just now begun.

Eden slowly opened her eyes, trying to adjust to the dim light coming from her window. It must have been some time in between the afternoon, judging by how rapidly daylight was fading. The female blinked a few times, her vision once again stabilized. With a groan of pain and discomfort, she managed to sit up and take in her surroundings. The room was big and heavily decorated in warm shades of red and gold. Even though Eden had no interest whatsoever in such luxuries, she saw it as a good sign; if she was a prisoner she ought to have been in a cell, definitely not a fancy bedroom.

The woman attempted to stretch her sore body but regretted it instantly as a sharp pain shot from her ribs. Hesitantly, she looked at her body to inspect the damage. Her leg was put in a cast - she could tell it was swollen just by looking at her toes. No wonder she couldn't move. Inspecting the work more closely, she noticed how meticulously it was tended to. Another good sign, for sure. Next, she pulled her tunic up. Several bruises decorated her upper abdomen and sides and bandages were tightly wrapped around a part of her torso. Her ribcage had probably suffered quite some damage. That would not only explain the pain but the difficulty in breathing.

With all the strength she could muster, she tried to call out with her raspy voice.

'' Hello? Is anyone there? ''

* : Quick! Lay her down.
** : Put pressure here.
« Last Edit: January 14, 2020, 12:24:17 PM by Eden »


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Re: Interracial tensions and whatnot
« Reply #1 on: January 16, 2020, 04:23:53 AM »
There were many rooms much like Eden’s borrowed space, and each bed held yet one more injury, each seemingly worse than the next. Some improved, others showed little progress, and it was all the healers could do to ensure all received the proper and necessary care. Yet here, weeks beyond the battle, the frayed edges had begun to show. It was not the lengthy hours or the hard labor that wore away at the healers, but rather the heavy weight of sorrow that lingered over the halls of the Woodland Realm.  Too many had died.  Too many died still. Still more would never fully heal.

Even so, it did not take long for Eden’s call to be answered.  Her door swung open silently to admit the equally silent form of one of the healers. Young, by the measure of her own people, she had been tasked with looking in on the injured and seeing to the simplest of their needs while the more experienced healers spent their wisdom elsewhere, or sought out a few moments of rest. Still, the healer portrayed no weariness in her smile, which was gentle and comforting, even to this woman who was not of her own kin.  Many elves in the Woodland Realm were suspicious of outsiders, but if that were the case for this particular elf, she did not let it show.

“Good morning,” the healer offered in greeting.  She carried a pitcher of cool water with her and set it carefully on the bedside table.  “I am pleased to see you more alert.  You had us worried for a time.”  With practiced fingers, the healer set about inspecting Eden’s bandages, noting with a nod that all seemed well. 

The healer had left the door open behind her and beyond the open doorway, Eden would have a clear view of the passage beyond.  An identical door to her own stood immediately opposite, not quite fully shut.  From within could be heard only faint murmurs of conversation.  Moments later, the door silently swung open. Beyond was another room with another bed, but one might forgive Eden for not noticing the patient beyond as none other than the Elvenking himself stepped into the hallway, carefully shutting the door behind him.

The trying days had not stopped Thranduil from the yearly change to his winter wardrobe.  It was not from arrogance (mostly), but rather for some sense of normalcy.  Business as usual in trying times. All a part of the facade of confidence the king wore as a means of holding back the ever encroaching despair.  The golden shades of autumn had been traded for the silvers of winter, leaving his appearance even colder than it might have been only a few weeks earlier.

As he closed the opposite door, icy blue eyes shifted ahead, into the open door that led into Eden’s room.  If Thranduil was surprised to find her awake, or more to the point, if he were even glad of it, it didn’t show.  He was simply observing, taking in the scene, the woman, the healer that tended her.  It took only a few strides to cross the hallway and bring him to rest just inside the doorway.  There he observed.  In complete silence.

To her credit, the healer noticed his presence immediately, gracing him with a quick but formal nod of her head and a soft acknowledgment of “My lord.”

“She’s awake,” Thranduil observed with disinterest.

“Yes, my lord,” the healer replied.  “And healing well.”

“Good,” At last, the ice of Thranduil’s gaze landed squarely on Eden, sweeping over her injuries and taking a quick inventory. “Send word when she is able to walk so that we might send her on her way.”


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Re: Interracial tensions and whatnot
« Reply #2 on: January 19, 2020, 03:54:03 PM »
((ooc; sorry for the late reply, exam season >.>))

Eden suddenly tensed up at the light creaking sound coming from her door. Her hand instinctively made its way towards her hip, where the hilt of her sword once was, only to grasp thin air. She mentally cursed herself for her foolishness; what would she do bedridden like that, cut whoever came close? Then again, if she was to go she wouldn’t do so without a fight. Life is for the fighters, she had learned that the hard way.

Her surprise was evident when the now open door revealed a beautiful female elf. Her serene smile and soft words were reassuring, yet the human woman kept her guard up; sometimes evil can come in a pretty package. Once can never be too careful.

Eden suppressed the flinch that erupted from her body at the sudden touch from the healer. She must have looked like a scared, wild animal to the Elf’s eyes, she thought. If there was one thing the female hated more than anything else that would be looking vulnerable. She couldn’t stay there, helpless. She had to get back on her feet as soon as possible.

Despite her mental protests, she let the healer inspect the damage. She allowed her body to relax – to the degree that such thing was possible – and her eyes to wander. Her gaze fell upon the torch-lit hallway. The vivid flames offered just enough light for Eden to satisfy part of her curiosity; there seemed to be another door opposite of the room she was in. Was there another patient there? Was this the medical ward, then? She did not have to trouble her mind with questions for long, though. In the blink of an eye, the door she had her eyes fixed upon opened, only to reveal the Elvenking himself. Of course, she had no idea of his title as of yet, but even by looking at him from afar one could easily guess he held some sort of title; his posture was imposing and his pace firm.

To her surprise, the eye-catching stranger made his way towards the room she was in. He seemed even taller and awe-inspiring up close.  Eden might not have realized she had been staring all this time if the female elf hadn’t spoke. It was now clearly evident that indeed the male was a figure of authority.

Her mind wandered at the events of the battle. The memories seemed distant and confused at first, even though it had only been a few weeks, but she knew. In fact, she was sure of it; this was not the first time she had laid eyes upon him. How could she possibly forget that lone, majestic figure dressed in silver, cutting his way through uncountable hoards of enemies. She was there, she had seen it with her own eyes, what she once deemed impossible. She was also there when the Dol Guldur War Troll came; that was when things had begun going south. The monstrous creature created such havoc that the alliance forces scattered and eventually each man had to fend for himself. It made its way right towards the Elvenking who seemed too caught up to notice. Cutting down another Orc, Eden paused for a moment to catch her breath and assess the situation, only to see the danger at hand. Without giving it much thought, the woman slashed and stabbed her way towards the massive foe. Once she had gotten close enough, she decided to improvise. She slashed its popliteal fossa, the parts behind the beast’s knees, again and again, hoping to stop it in its tracks. Indeed, the foul creature slowed down and let out a cry of pain but not before kicking the human off. Eden landed a few metres away, colliding with stone rumbles and smashing several of her bones. The pain was so great that she passed out before she could see her eventual victory. The Troll had indeed fallen before he could cause any more damage and death.

''She’s awake.''

The Elf’s words brought her back to reality. With her memory restored, everything made more sense and she felt a bit more at ease than before, despite the coldness in his voice. She listened intently to the brief exchange between the two, observing and assessing. Outside of the battlefield he seemed to possess a calmness and coldness that both baffled her and irritated her. Was he really not scathed by what had happened? What even had happened after her fall? His piercing gaze landed upon her and she momentarily lost her track of thought.

'' You, '' she blurted out, only to receive curious looks from both of the Elves.

'' You’re… alive. ''
she pointed out. Her tone was hard to decipher for not even she knew if her remark was made out of plain curiosity or relief or both.
« Last Edit: January 21, 2020, 05:21:11 PM by Eden »


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Re: Interracial tensions and whatnot
« Reply #3 on: January 22, 2020, 03:05:19 AM »
Eden may have thought the looks were ‘curious,’ but on Thranduil’s part, it was barely contained irritation.  Certainly his better self insisted that he treat this guest politely, at the very least, but the reality of it was that he was not in any mood to entertain any of the injured Lakemen they had taken in. It was a kindness done in friendship for the new King of Dale who had fought bravely and proven himself a worthy ally.  Yet that kindness done for Bard the Dragonslayer did not bind Thranduil to entertaining the injured bumpkins as they healed.

“Yes,” he half sighed, addressing the injured woman as one might address a child who had interrupted the grown ups in the room.  “I am alive.”  There was no recognition in his eyes, not even the faintest hint that he’d ever seen her before or knew who she was.

“And so are you,” he continued, making very little effort to sound kind.  “At no small cost to my people.” He did not speak merely in terms of the excellent care given by his healers.  In fact, that was only the smallest part of it.  The greater cost had come not from healers and medicines, but with the spilt blood of the Woodland Realm.  Blood spent in defence of a ruined city and a refugee people, but spent nonetheless. 

“But our resources here are not infinite, nor is our kindness.”  With a slight gesture from the king, the healer nodded and turned back to her work, examining the woman’s injuries to be sure she did not need more than the simplest of tending.  But she did not meet Eden’s eyes, keeping her gaze downcast as her king continued to speak.

“You will rest. You will do as the healers tell you. And then, when you are well, you will leave.” The look he cast her way was sharp, leaving no room for argument. “Without argument or demand.”


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Re: Interracial tensions and whatnot
« Reply #4 on: January 25, 2020, 11:38:57 AM »
Eden listened intently. She could feel the tension in the air as the Elf spoke. His tone still seemed indifferent, somewhat cold perhaps, but his words made it apparent that he indeed held some emotion; he’s angry, she thought. Angry and hurt.

What on Earth had happened? Had they lost?

The King’s words stung and in any other circumstances her youthful ego would be hurt. She normally wasn’t one to bite her tongue, not even before royalty but she didn’t want to get on the Elvenking’s wrong side yet – well, that is, if she hadn’t done so already. Judging by the looks she was getting, she was already testing his patience.

'' I thank you and your people but my debt has already been paid with enough pain after what I did for you out there. '' , was all that she said in a matter-of-fact tone.

'' But if I could ask you for one more favour... ''

She continued hesitantly and paused for a moment, trying to decipher the look in his eyes. At last, she decided to push her luck.

'' I need to know what happened after I fell. Tell me, no matter how hard the truth may be. '', the female finally said as she tried to sit up more properly despite her own body’s as well as the healer’s protests.

'' Please... '' , she added, her voice this time laced with worry. Her mind had been clouded by negative thoughts and all sorts of possibilities about what could have happened to her beloved wizard and his companions ever since she had regained her full conscience and memories.


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Re: Interracial tensions and whatnot
« Reply #5 on: February 03, 2020, 07:40:34 AM »
Eden might have had an easier time had she tried to decipher the look in the healer’s eyes.  At those first words, after what I did for you out there, a momentary shock flashed through her eyes, and they darted away from her work towards the king.  Clearly, she was less skilled at schooling her expressions, and such an assertion was not what any wiser person might have said to the king.

For his part, Thranduil did not react so obviously. It was neither common nor wise to dictate to the Elvenking what debts he owed, and such audacity did little to motivate him to be generous with his words. Though he had no interest in being cruel for mere sport, he had also learned long ago the danger in allowing such things to fester. 

The king did not answer immediately, though his eyes gave enough warning not to say more.

“What you did for me out there?” he asked, one brow arched in mocking question.  “I’m not sure what you think you did out there, but neither I nor my people ever asked anything of you.” His tone was full of warning, but he made at least some effort not to go further than that.  She was not well… and perhaps this behavior was due to trauma.

Rather than retracting his hospitality and sending her back to Dale on the next supply cart, he simply let his words hang in the hair a few moments longer, his pointed look clear enough that she should stop before she went any further with such defiance.

“As for the battle,” he began, turning away from her that he might hide the scowl that came from thinking again of the battle.  That damned waste… A victory with too great a cost.  “Oakenshield killed the Defiler, but he and his heirs are dead.  Dain rules Under the Mountain.”  There was clear disdain in his voice when he spoke of that Dwarf.  Oakenshield had been troublesome, but he had always been a far cry more reasonable than Ironfoot. 

“What was left of the orcs fled back into their holes and we’ve seen few signs.  Wherever they fled, they do not seem inclined to return.  And King Bard rules now in Dale.  Or what is left of Dale… We continue to send what aid we can, and you, my friend, are the beneficiary of that aid.”

The king cast a glance back over his shoulder, that brow still raised.  Was that clear enough?  He’d given all the most important details, after all.


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