Lusseriel was sitting between two tents in the small camp of the rohirrim. She looked weary, as she was trying to just stay sitting as the rohirrim healer applied a suture and bandage to a small but annoying and bleeding wound on her side. She looked at her ankle that was slowly turning a not so fetching shade of purple and sighed.
She didn’t quite follow what the man did to her ankle, but when he was done, Lusseriel accepted his offer of water to get as clean as possible without jumping head first into a river.
She rummaged through her bag in order to find out what was there and what was missing. She found most of her healing supply, only most, some of it was gone, and she had her sword but her favorite daggers were gone. Her changes of traveling armor were gone as well, her journal was there by some miracle, her pen was broken though. Everything else she had was pretty much gone.
She borrowed a tunic from the rohirrim to change into, and threw the garb from Isengard into the nearest fire outside the tent, under the understanding looks of the men standing guard around.
She then checked quickly over her sleeping companions, and then limped to a tree nearby. She sat between its root with only her notebook, piece of her newly broken pen and ink.
“These last days… Were bad. the worst terrible.
The rohirrims in the camp asked us to do something and we did. And after that, we went back to that village of backstabbing… in Tur Morva. I had a bad feeling about it, and now I know why.
When we arrived in the village, we separated, I don’t remember why. I don’t care why anymore to be fair. I went with Ilthirian and Andrahir and we found Lothrandir on our way… And all 4 of us were betrayed.
They had number on their side and managed to subdue us.
Lheu Brenin sold us to Isengard.
We kept our weapons on us a surprising amount of time, but in the end it didn’t help us much. Lothrandir seemed unwell, probably injured, but alas, our captors didn’t allow for us to do much to help.
Also I had great hopes that Ardirien, Arcangar, Rolegard and Tindollion escaped the dunlandings, but alas, they too, were caught.
And I have no idea what happened to Athlardal. Was he caught? Did he escape the betrayal? Is he in Isengard and stuck there? I don’t like him, he’s far too cheerful and innocent for my peace of mind, but I don’t wish that fate on him.
We were thrown in the depths of Isengard, thrown there as slaves to work for the uruks.
Somehow luck was on our side for while the uruks were strong, they were also pretty much stupid.
During our journey I took up some of my old war habit luckily. I kept a small pouch of athelas on me, within my clothing. And a dagger. Granted, they found the dagger, I’m pretty sure I can cross it off as being lost for good, however, they didn’t find the athelas. A small thing of leather was discreet enough to go pretty much unnoticed.
I didn’t want to use it unless it was an emergency, and for days as I worked there and tried to make myself look pretty harmless, I carried it on me, without anyone noticing anything.
I was interrogated by Saruman. That… Being is an insult to everything that lives and I hope he chokes to death on the toxic fumes of Isengard!
And oh apparently I do know how to look helpless and harmless. Soon enough, the overseer they stuck to me was sent to do something else, leaving me to my daily tasks.
I was trying to find discreetly a way to find my companions again and to escape, to no avail at first, but I found another prisoner who had ideas on how to escape.
I also managed to get my revenge on the uruk that was my overseer. He found his death at my hands without anyone noticing. I didn’t escape a few injuries but nothing big enough to be a concern. Mainly bruises and an injury to my side that I kept covered as I could.
And today… Blessed day, I found Ardirien and Ilthirian. I was so relieved to see them. They looked uninjured, though I’m more than aware it didn’t necessarily mean much.
Tindollion had been working in the area when she found us, so that was four of us. In order to try and find our companions faster, to try and escape, we agreed to separate. Ardirien had seen Rolegard in the kitchen some times ago apparently, and Tindollion suggested going to check the dungeon for the others.
I hadn’t seen Andrahir or Arcangar there, but granted, I haven’t seen all of the dungeon myself.
Ilthirian offered to go to the dungeon with Tindollion. I almost wished them luck with what they were likely to find there, but I didn’t. And I went with Ardirien to the kitchen.
I still don’t know how I noticed Rolegard where we was working in the kitchen, but Ardirien and I hid behind a big cart while trying to get Rolegard’s attention on us.
Apparently Rolegard had been hit over the head with a plate by one of the taskmasters, and was apparently plagued with a headache and some dizziness since. I suspected a mild concussion, but I had no way to check that or really help him.
We needed to get out of the room before I could even use the athelas else the uruk in post there saw us.
We were going to leave the corridor when Tindollion arrived in a run calling my name. When she found us, she told us that they found Andrahir but “he’s been tortured and is barely alive”.
Great, I only had a small pouch of athelas, no water, no food, no herb, no bandage or anything of the sort so… And I’m pretty sure she didn’t know about the athelas anyway… What did they think I could do? A miracle?
Songs of power are a thing, but definitively not when I’m not healthy to start with. And healing in that way isn’t something I can really do anyway.
Yes, I make a pitiful healer. Never claimed the contrary and it’s not now that I’ll start.
Anyway, I followed her and Ardirien and Rolegard went after us.
And yes, we found Andrahir, alright. Barely conscious, he tried to defend himself from us. I told him that he was safe, in Sindarin first, which seemed to make him wonder what language it was. Long enough to realize we weren’t uruks or orcs.
The more time he took to open his eyes, the more I was nervous but he somehow managed to get back to consciousness and recognized us, thankfully.
He claimed boldly that he was able to walk and hold a weapon.
Possible but a stiff breeze would probably have made him keel over. I used whatever Athelas I had on me on his open wounds to at least lower the pain, and encourage healing if nothing else.
Ardirien had some food on her, and gave it to Andrahir. That too will help.
Unless he had internal damages that is, but I couldn’t see clear sign of it at the time it if so.
And then Tindollion gave us the worst news she could have given us: she saw Arcangar being killed for defending himself against the traitorous backstabbing little vermin that pass for men at the village.
Wherever the souls of men are supposed to go when they die, may Morgoth snatch their souls as chewtoys for his monsters when those people die.
Ardirien seemed to be in shock at the news, which… I understood perfectly.
Rolegard fainted then, apparently just exhaustion, thankfully, and was quickly back to consciousness.
We found weapons discarded around, while we talked about how to get out of here, and… I told them about my networking a bit in the dungeons. Great places to make friends that hate the same beings I did, namely uruks, orcs, and Saruman.
The first Uruk we crossed path with, Ardirien attacked in clear rage. Well, revenge is a thing, and I would be the last people able to tell her off for that. I hope she’ll be more reasonable than me when her safety’s involved, but if she needs help I’ll gladly give her a hand.
Thankfully when we got there, Baldgar was still alive. And apparently I wasn’t the only one who met him.
As I told them, I couldn’t swear the man was a friend, but at least he wanted out as much as we did and that made him an ally if nothing else.
We freed him, and Acca, and a bunch of dunlandings that I could only hope didn’t deserve being here. We left the dungeon by groups of 2-3 people. The uruks didn’t seem to find anything strange at that by that point.
As we did, Tindollion and I made a slight detour by the armory. I did remember seeing our bags there last time my overseer took me there to get things for him.
All our bags weren’t full as they were supposed to be but… we also picked up any weapons that looked familiar or not made by uruks.
There was an explosion, and we ran for safety.
Baldgar died on the way between Isengard and the Rohirrim camp. We didn’t want to leave him there, but finally we opted to get back to the rohirrims and tell them where we left him so they could treat his body with the honor of their people.
I checked my bags and some things disappeared, some things broke, like my pen, but I had most of my healing equipment thankfully.
I gave Rolegard a vial of tincture that’d help with his headache and dizziness.
And we started to walk back to the camp. I’ll admit my side felt like it burnt when I arrived. However, Andrahir fell unconscious again, though this time there was a healer fully equipped able to deal with a human constitution better than me to help, though I of course, would stay available in the following days, and I shamelessly listened to the man as he offered suggestions.
I think I told everyone to eat, drink and rest, in whatever order they wished, and truly I should too, but…
One of us is dead, and I can’t help but feel…
Well, I’m tired, and yet I feel so tense I couldn’t sleep even if I wanted to so here am I, putting to paper the worst days of the last few centuries of my life.
I heard… Ardirien found something that belonged to Arcangar in the camp.
The heartache…
Well…
I hope she’ll…
I’m sorry for her. I knew we couldn’t all survive that journey but… One can’t help but hope. I hate for Ardirien to be in the situation she’s in. I don’t know if she’ll want to keep…
I hate this. I hate Saruman, I hate Sauron and it’s the worst idea I ever had but I swear, I swear on Eru and the valar that I’ll see both of them dead if it’s the last thing I do. They took from us one person too many and it's high time they pay their due!
And so help me I’m going back to the village and I’m burning that place to the ground with those thrice be cursed Dunlending dogs in it.”
Lusseriel closed the inkwell, and the notebook, mindless of the messy page, and pulled her legs up against her torso, trapping the book against her body, thoughts turning in her head, plans of revenges, and memories, and…
She didn’t know how long she stayed there, looking at the crackling fire without seeing it, but in the end, she fell asleep against the tree.
