maskormenace | ✥ [Video] ✥

Entry tags:

✥ [Video] ✥

Hello? [Her voice sounds thick - almost as if she has been crying. She swallows against the uncomfortable tightness in her throat and speaks louder - clearer.] I assume I have been taken into the hands of the Enemy. Know that I will not go quietly. My injuries will not hamper-

[The lie dies on her lips. Her body is not in good shape and she knows it.]

If I am not amongst Enemies, who amongst you is a Healer? [It's a long shot in the dark and she glances around warily.] My name is Tauriel. I am a Silvan Elf from -

[Nowhere now. She is an exile.]

It matters not. Are there others like myself here? [Silvan, Sindar or even Noldor would be welcome.] I wish to replace my bow and acquire proper arrows.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

[ This appears to be a damsel in some distress. Stand aside, people. ]

I'm so sorry that you're hurt, Mademoiselle Tauriel. I'm d'Artagnan, a Musketeer of France, and as far removed from home as you are, I'm afraid.

There are several healers here, and I am not among them, but I would commend you to their skill. We are not your enemies.

How badly are you injured? If you need aid in reaching a clinic, I would be glad to oblige.

[Only temporarily. She has her pride when she isn't sporting broken bones and a grieving heart.]

I have never heard of France. [It makes sense and she nods, biting her lip.] Thank you for the reassurance. I have seen too many enemies as of late and they have left their mark on me.

[Considering she cannot breathe deep or stand without great pain...]

I believe several ribs are broken. I was thrown against a rock wall by an Orc.

[ A raised eyebrow accompanies d'Artagnan's smile. ]

I have never heard of a Silvan Elf. Or an Orc, for that matter.

[ But that's beside the point. She's hurt, and he would see her helped. Perhaps he could take her to Lucy. ]

I'm sorry to say that you are not wrong to be wary. This is a time of war, and we are all preparing for that. I'd like to see you well, before we need worry about that again.

Can you tell me where you are? There is a friendly clinic in De Chima, which I could bring you to.

Then we are on equal footing. [And perhaps that is best for an exile like her.] I sense...a darkness. I cannot name it nor do I know what it is capable of doing, but it hangs over this land like an immobile cloud.

Maurtia Falls. I am near a...Porter, I believe.

It's the shadow of war.

[ Which he says without any concern. What has been started cannot now be stopped. It's only a matter of time, and d'Artagnan is ready for that.

Part of him even anticipates it. He has been too long in this idyllic land. He's a soldier. He wasn't made for this. ]

I'll speak more of it when you are well. For now, all I say is that I doubt that cloud is so immobile as it seems.

I know Maurtia Falls. You're speaking with a friend of mine, though I'm bold to call her so - her Majesty, Queen Lucy Pevensie, operates the clinic that I speak of. You could rest there, if you wished.

I have seen battle, but never war. I fear it is only a matter of time before it touches my world too.

[But for different reasons, perhaps. Though not vastly different. Evil isn't terribly hard to understand - not for one who has seen six centuries, at least.]

You are mistaken. It is immobile and...very large. [The shadows extend farther than her eyes can see.] I...will help. I was the Captain of the Mirkwood Guard once. I can fight.

[She flushes to a faint pink.]

I am honored to have the attention of a Queen and I would be grateful to rest. [Anywhere, really, as long as she is healed and safe.]

[ Large? D'Artagnan's eyes sharpen with interest. Perhaps he'd been too quick to discount her words as allegory. She wouldn't be the first person here who could see beyond current events.

He nods. She'll see the scenery around him changing, while he makes his way to De Chima's porter. ]

I'd like to speak more of what you've seen, if that's the case.

I'm coming to you now. It won't take long, you have my word. You'll not fight well with broken ribs. I've tried it before, and it isn't pleasant. If you've been a Captain, you must be good.

[ Very good, given that she looks several decades younger than any Captain he's ever known. ]

[Elvish eyes are very sharp and her senses are keen. She has felt Sauron's and Smaug's darkness and she is confident that doesn't exist here (thank goodness). But there is...something new. Those who are innocent deserve protection.]

I will tell you freely. [The more who know, the better.] I am physically skilled, but -

I was stripped of my position recently. [For reasons that have nothing to do with her skills.] I practiced my archery on many a Spider and Orc.

An archer?

[ Like Lucy, he thinks. No doubt they'll get along. ]

The people of this world rarely use bows, I'm afraid. They're fond of guns, more impressive even than the kind I'm used to.

But - forgive me, you killed spiders with arrows?

[ That seems excessive. Perhaps she's a particularly volatile arachnophobe. Hopefully the clinic will be free of them. ]

Yes. I am also accustomed to using twin daggers.

[She looks skeptical, tilting her head.]

What are...guns?

Yes, they are quite large. The Spiders that infect the forest are the size of large horses. Some are even larger than that.

[ Or, perhaps she's from a world far more like Lucy's than d'Artagnan hadn't believed. Giant spiders, Elves and Orcs.

It's definitely not France. ]

I'll show you a gun when I find you.

They're a means of shooting, but instead of a bow, you hold a metal tube, and a ball comes out of it in place of an arrow. In my world, arrows have been largely replaced by guns - something I see even more of, here.

[ There's a pause, and his video shuts off for a moment while he ports. Then he's back, and the scenery has changed even further - reflecting the streets of Maurtia Falls instead of De Chima. ]

My apologies, Mademoiselle. I'm in the city now. Can you tell me where you are?

What skill is there in firing a metal tube? [One must aim, but much of the effort is eliminated.] I will gladly show you how quickly I can fire my arrows. If I must acquire a gun too, I will do so.

[One must blend - something that she knows Thranduil would disdain.]

By the Porter. [She hasn't strayed far, but Elves are good at keeping to the shadows when they wish. Once she steps into the light, it plays in the copper strands of her hair.]

I can see you.

[ D’Artagnan can’t help smiling. Those are fighting words, and he’s glad to hear them. ]

I’ll take you up on that. Show me your arrows, I’ll show you my guns.

[ It’s only fair. He lifts his head, attentive to the people around the porter. Many are officials that he’s seen before; he nods to the ones he knows, and moves on. Finally, he sees her; red-haired, with pointed ears that his eyes linger on for a moment. An Elf, she’d said.

Well, apart from that she looks very human. Albeit, more beautiful than most humans he’s ever seen. D’Artagnan lifts his eyebrows and comes close. ]

Mademoiselle Tauriel? [ He puts his phone away. ] I’m sorry to keep you waiting.

Deal. [But first she must procure a bow - or carve one herself. The Silvan do not like felling wood unless it is put to good use.

She approaches him at the inquiry, nodding carefully. Her posture is stiffer than usual and she is holding one side. There are also scratches and bruises on her face.]

The wait was not long. I have been learning of this technology. It is far advanced to what I have seen anywhere in Middle Earth.

[Which makes it a curiosity and dangerous to her.]

[ D’Artagnan’s eyes quickly scan her face. She’s obviously hurt, but clearly very strong. He wonders how hard she’ll need to work to move.

At once, he offers his arm. ]

Please, Mademoiselle. We can walk – or, if your strength fails, I will carry you. If that would be better, you need only tell me.

Is that what you call your home? Middle Earth?

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

✥ [Video] ✥

video

video

video

video

video

video

video

video

video

video

video

video -> action

action

action

action