maskormenace | ✥ [Video] ✥

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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.

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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?

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