La Belle Dame Sans Merci
folder
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,984
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
-Multi-Age › Het - Male/Female
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
5
Views:
1,984
Reviews:
4
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the Lord of the Rings (and associated) book series, nor any of the characters from it. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.
In the Void
In the Void, she sat plotting, while her master focused upon Far Harad. An emissary had been dispatched to the lands of blood to request the Easterlings’ participation. A second attempt to overthrow her beloved would be made and she knew the inevitable outcome.
Harad was a land of savage beauty and unseen dangers. Once she walked its fiery red sands. The Haradrim whispered no footprints remained upon the sands except those made by She Who Walks with Death. The hot and biting desert winds which could flay flesh from bone consumed all other prints.
The crystalline white sands turned to blood on a long lost day. The hearts of the foes of Harad bled out upon the sands as the Blood Goddess had consumed first the flesh, then the souls of those who thought to conquer their land. None had been left behind to give voice to the horror, but the crimson sands told the tale of the Bloody Handed Goddess.
The One closed the door upon that memory. No longer was she a disembodied spirit of wrath and death. She smiled at the thought of the great gift given to her.
I am His Precious now.
Harad was a land of savage beauty and unseen dangers. Once she walked its fiery red sands. The Haradrim whispered no footprints remained upon the sands except those made by She Who Walks with Death. The hot and biting desert winds which could flay flesh from bone consumed all other prints.
The crystalline white sands turned to blood on a long lost day. The hearts of the foes of Harad bled out upon the sands as the Blood Goddess had consumed first the flesh, then the souls of those who thought to conquer their land. None had been left behind to give voice to the horror, but the crimson sands told the tale of the Bloody Handed Goddess.
The One closed the door upon that memory. No longer was she a disembodied spirit of wrath and death. She smiled at the thought of the great gift given to her.
I am His Precious now.