|
Tachigami and Gamzee
http://i1365.photobucket.com/albums/...ps0cb4e379.png The night was dark, and the palace was only dimly lit. The young elflings were fast asleep and the elders were drinking old wine, enjoying the silence of the late hours. A storm was rolling in, thunder growling and shaking the ground. The king rubbed his temples in despair. The kingdom had been having these kinds of storms all week, and that was certainly not typical of the elven kingdom. They'd never been affected by the darkness of the world before now. He could hear his youngest son up in the upper rooms, calling loudly for a maid, whining like a babe. His eldest, Elwin, ran to the child's room. The calling stopped and the king stood. He needed to consult the wizards, for dark times called for drastic measures. He had to protect his kingdom before it was too late. Elwin sat by his little brother's side, shushing the child and cooing for him to sleep. The child would not rest and the prince frowned, stroking the babe's hair. He cooed in the language of old, singing quiet hymns and prayers. He could feel something was amiss, but he couldn't place it. Once Elessar, the young one, was asleep, Elwin slowly dismissed himself from the room. A particularly loud rumble startled him and he jumped, eyes going wide. He looked around, seeing the adults weren't phased. He sighed and went back to his bed room, calling for a servant and warm tea. "Conner!" He rang a bell on his bedside table, calling foe his personal servant. The entertainer, was, well entertaining to Elwen. In fact, Conner was his very favorite servant. |
Connor made the perfect servant---quiet and submissive, he did only as told and no more or less. Of course, growing up with bards before being taken into servitude, Connor had probably been destined to be born with music in his bones. And as such, he was pulled into the service of the king and his kin, his guests, his guards, to play through the halls and perform private concerts at the whim of any who called. Flute, lute, guitar, harp---Connor's nimble fingers worked magic out of even the simplest of instrument, and this talent must not have been lost on the king. Connor had been delighted to be a servant to the royal family and their friends and consorts, but mostly to one son in particular. Now he sat in his room, which wasn't as regal and majestic as that of the royals, and lightly strummed his harp. A lap harp, made of silver and framed in gold, encrusted with heavy onyx and sapphire. The inlaid double-row strings had deep, rich notes because of the heavy metal of its house, and these he had been plucking lightly to test their sound as he tightened them. A light ringing sounded above the thunderous clang in the sky above, and a voice calling his name---the eldest son of the king, Elwen, calling. The bell, the call, neither were loud, and his room sat right beside the eldest prince's. He stood with his harp, off the bed sitting caddy-corner, and hurried out on light feet, down the hall a few steps, and to Elwen's door, which had been left ajar. He pushed slightly, stepping in and bowing low. "You called for me, my Prince?" He spoke quietly, but it was as he did---most bards sang as they played their music but Connor's voice was too quiet, and his confidence far too low. |
The elven prince twisted at one of his many piercings nervously. "It's a rather stormy night isn't it?" He didn't give much time for the servant to answer considering it was a rhetorical question. He eyed the shy servant to see if he was tired or uncomfortable. He pointed to a rather luxurious chair in the corner. "Why don't you have a seat?" He asked softly, then sipped the tea that had been brought to him by a maid earlier. "My family had been acting oddly lately...I think they suspect there is more to these storms than just bad weather." He picked up a bed and laid out on his stomach. "You know the stories don't you? About the darkness that once ruled these lands? Well, I personally think it might be back...though in the legends they say it was destroyed. I mean...maybe I'm silly little elfling, but not much else explains the dis-ease of father." He sighed and stared at the instrument in his servant's hands. "Why don't you--" He was cut short as his door was slung open by the king. "Father!!" He gasped and was yanked up from his bed, startled. Connor was ignored completely as the royal family was all gathered.
Within moments Elwen and his whole family were in the basement. His father left with a sword, not explaining anything. Elwen held onto his little brother, breath labored, coming out in terrified little pants. He had never been forced to hide ever. He grasped a sword of his own, ready to go back up if the need arose. He kept quiet, his mother shaking beside him. His brother was restless. "Elwen, why do we have to stay down here?" The young one whined, and the prince hissed. "Shush..." He gripped the sword with both hands, hearing loud sounds on the floor boards above them. He screamed as Elessar climbed out of the space, he reached for his brother, but was horrified as he slipped away and upstairs. His mother, shrieking as she did so, went after the toddler. Elwen himself was last, but as he tried to get out, something heavy was set over the door, making any effort to get out futile. He could hear the clinging of swords about him, the cries of servants and others being slaughtered. |
What was happening...? At first all within the castle walls was calm, quiet, safe despite the clamor outside. He'd settled onto the chair when it was requested and listened to the young prince without comment, nodding along and listening intently rather than passing off his words as many would---because a servant's opinions were rarely asked for or listened to. Elwen was snatched away, and Connor was left in the room with nary a shout to run or hide or try to defend himself. So he ran. In the hallway it was so much darker, the lights having been blown out here and there, but the noise from outside had infiltrated with a growing rage. He could pinpoint the screaming gibberish to that of goblins, hideous little things with gray-brown skin and floppy ears that rarely wore clothes. Abandoning his instrument, Connor ran down the hall and to the stairs, running down them so quickly he almost slid halfway and tumbled the rest of the way. He didn't quite know what he was going to do if he was met with an attacker---he didn't know how to fight, he was a musician, not a warrior or knight! He rounded a corner to see a young one---Elessar, the toddler son---running from his mother toward the noise down a hall just to the right, and his mother right behind him. From his position Connor saw several goblins sliding down the hall with their heavy, crude swords. "No! Go! Go that way!" For the first time his voice cracked and escaped with a loud authority, stopping both Elessar an the queen in their tracks. He ran, scooping up the child and rushing the queen along, grabbing up the tail of her skirt so it couldn't be stepped on by their pursuers, who were laughing and catcalling all the way. Connor knew where to go, a safe place that wasn't the basement, which was barred by a massive bookcase that had fallen before it. He knew Elwen was down there, but he was also safe. through a few quick turns, they were in the kitchen. Connor rushed to the pantry, which was in a quiet little alcove that could be closed off, and set Elessar down. "Please, please hide here." He ushered the two in with the dry foods and smoked meats. The queen looked distraught as she grasped Elessar. "But... the king---" "I'll do what I can to help, but please, milady, I don't want to see you or young Elessar harmed." He closed the door, stepped back, and pulled the baker's shelf in front of the alcove. Then he turned, ran from the kitchen and back down the hall, and was immediately slammed backward by a huge goblin otherwise unarmed beyond his powerful grip that took hold of his neck and chest. Another approached with a sabre and muttered something to the one that held onto him. It nodded with a toothy grin, and reared back, knocking Connor's head against the wall and knocking him out entirely. |
Elwen screamed until his throat was ran and banged his fists on the wall until they were bruised. He couldn't find away out of his prison and he needed to save his family. The cries of elves mingled with the shouts of goblins, sounding as though the elves were losing. The elves had been too at rest these years. The peace had made them weak. The soilders weren't battle hardened and practice could only teach so much. Elwen clung to his knees, seating himself in the hard floor, pressed into a corner. The basement was dark, damp, cold. The floor was hard. He was tired and wanted his warm bed. He knew he'd get no rest tonight though. He'd be lucky if he made it out of this cellar alive from the sounds upstairs. He took an old bottle of wine and dusted it off. It was older than he was and he knew it must have been saved for a special occasion. Wine of this quality wouldn't be wasted. He figured now was a great time to open the bottle. The smell wasn't very nice, but then, he'd never enjoyed the smell of fermenting grapes. He took a sip, calmed by the burn. He took a few more, then a large swig, and before he knew it, half the bottle was gone. He slowly slipped into a sleep, the sounds of war becoming nothing more than a dream.
Elessar stared at his mother, his tiny lip twitching and his eyes full of tears. His smooth, light grey skin soon was tear streaked and he sobbed loudly, causing the queen to gag him. "Shhh." She whispered, rocking him. "I want E-Elwin..." He sobbed, the arms of his mother strange and not at all comforting. As in most royal families, the toddler had been raised more by his nanny and his brother than by his parents. The king and queen were just so busy. He eventually became silent, falling asleep with his thumb in his mouth, and the queen strained to hear what happened outside the kitchen. It seemed she wasn't going to have much luck as the doors were thick and she was old, her hearing not as it had been when she was young. The battle raged on, Elven knights dropping like flies, and goblins streaming into the castle in crazy swarms. The king had been fending off what he could, fighting along side his bravest men. He could only hope his family had remained hidden, safe from harms way. His eldest son would be their only hope if the king himself were to fall. Elwen was the heir to the throne. He killed dozens of Goblins, but his stregth was beginning to waver. He could feel his age and he soon was overtaken, killed along side old friends. |
When he woke, it was quiet, and dark. He couldn't move, though, not because he was tied down, but because his arms and legs were so confused, just like the rest of his body. Connor could hear growling around him, a foreign language he'd never thought to learn. Straining his eyes, he could just see the outline of a room he'd been in many times before---Elwen's room. He'd been tossed onto the bed like a sack of grain, and one of the goblins had tossed one of their weapons within arm's reach. Maybe they hadn't expected them to wake so soon. Connor tried to move, but it sent a shock of pain through his head and down his back. They'd handled him roughly, by the look of the rips from their untrimmed, knife-like claws. One was so close... He pulled a hand from under his stomach and grasped for the shortsword, winding his weak fingers around the handle and rolled a bit, bringing it down on thin air as the nearby goblin sidestepped the halfhearted attack easily. The nearest one grasped his wrist and shook the blade from his hand. "Eh. I don' think so." It hissed, in the language Conner spoke, though a bit broken and rough. "This'n's a fighter." "No 'ee ain't! Ee's a song elf!" Another goblin chuckled from nearby. "Could be good." The nearer one nodded, but Conner growled weakly. "Nooo... The... The king..." "King's dead!" One of the elves spat. "Dead like 'de whooole place!" Connor's breath caught, and he tried to speak, but his voice came out in no more than a pant. "N-no---no... No... N-n-not E---" "Shush! Put'im out, on 'de cart. We'll wheel'im back." Connor tried to speak, but was struck again on the head and again, knocked out. |
Elwen finally woke from his slumber, his head aching and his eyes burning with tears. The sounds of the war above had faded into an odd silence, and he determined he should try to get out again. He shoved his shoulder against the door, but it didn't want to budge. Eventually the door did open, but not because of anything he'd done at all. Someone else had opened it. Elwin held his sword, hiding in the shadows of the cellar so he wasn't seen by whomever approached. He eventually saw it was his cousin, Malie, a large knight in his late twenties with broad shoulders and a large beard. Elwen came to the older man, and he was soon informed of the events that had taken place, though his fathers death was left out of the story told to him. "So they have Connor?" He asked very calmly, his eyes narrowed dangerously. "Yes, they do, but you can't possibly go after them you know? It's too dangerous." Elwin growled and stormed up the stairs. "I'm getting back my servant."
Malie grinned as the new kind sprinted off. All was going as he had planned. His own allegiance had been with the darkness, an allegiance which had promised he could rule over the elves. He'd given his cousin just the information he'd needed too, and was certain he'd never see the young prince again. No one could survive out there on their on without the proper supplies. Well, no prince who'd had no training or teaching on nature. Elessar and his mother rushed out as the fighting stopped. The first sight that met their eyes was the death around them. Dead goblin men and elves alike littered the floors and the balconies of the once great hall. The queen gathered her toddler son, covering his eyes to shield him from the horrible reality that was before them. |
| All times are GMT. The time now is 02:11 PM. |