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Heroes get all the happy endings. He wasn’t a hero. And he knew it. It ended in a fog. A chocking darkness that shut from sight all around him but weapons and pain. Did he honestly expect to escape the clutches of battle without wounds of his own when he had given so many? Chemicals had mixed like a toxic spill into the air and as he fought the wolves about his feet they disappear in its darkness. Replaced by the suffocating madness. But it was an ambush. A dark shape, unidentified but landing like a ton of bricks threatening to collapse him, and on his back scratched into him, searing pain into his back and neck. Screaming he had torn away, but one last hateful move come flying from the fight. Hooves hit solid on his shoulder sending him stumbling and twisting an unblessed muscle in his left front leg. In the chaos of battle he was stumbling, wheezing, and face cringing in pain. Danger loomed large but a small warm furry shape pressed gently on his legs, Haldir. His head had remained low, through the fog, keeping away but the barest of its chocking darkness. Now he pressed against the gold, and the pair moves as one, away, into the shadows. Where they belong. The golden ran, disjointed and broken, until he could go no more and collapsed somewhere north of the threshold. Haldir jumbles to a stop bellowing out a shout, still wrapped in the intensity of battle. They needed to go, to charge and rush. But as he turns around, his pale eyes do not find the same Laurelin that had galloped to his side. It stops him, and with the bond quieted, a flood of the golden’s feelings burst forth onto the stag like from a broken dam. He nearly crumbles to with the force. The golden lay huddled and trembling, but there was not even a cold breeze. Breath usually so smooth and powerful, wheezed, gasped, and hacked, spitting out blood on his forelegs. Or was that from his wounds. Haldir’s ears fold back as his stomache knots up. A glance of teeth rake on side of his neck, three large gashes tear across the top of his bonded’s back. And there on his other shoulder hoof prints of dark and mud mark his flesh, cutting in as well. In the end Haldir can only slink to the gold, and wait. Gone. It all felt gone. Washed in pain and darkness. He tried to grab the strings. The lost threads of the power he had carried into battle. The power of his laughter. The threat in his voice. The strength of his step. Anything he knew. But they flirted away with each tremor, and every laced breath. A fly landed on the wound upon his back and he lets slip a half groans like it was million times the weight. Haldir winces and moves shooing the creature off. When he looks back the golden’s eyes are open, but are not looking. The usual earth tones are pushed aside by dark blank pupils starring straight ahead. Everything was agony, and the golden was sure, death was not far. How pathetic. To die in the rush from battle, in some unpopulated corner or the earth. Yet, as he ground out each breath, it seemed fitting, to not get up here. To let his bones rest in the shadows. Haldir had other plans. Softly a whine slips through. “Am”[Up] The golden did not move, his mind only reeling, it was this a memory? He had heard it bef- but no thoughts could he keep for long. Silence persisted and the stag moved closer, daring to let his breath brush the gold shoulder. “Am!” A flinch and series of tremors but nothing. Panic flooded the stag’s heart as a deadening sense came from his soul. No, no. He moved around. Head dug into the satchel that some how managed to cling onto the golden’s back and found in it a small charm. A raindrop, moist. With panic rushed steps he held it over his bonded’s nose. The charm drips with the magic embedded in it, letting water drip onto the golden’s nose and run down to his lips. After a moment, they shift and lick a little up. For a while they stood like this, till the worry of the deer could stand it no more. He let the charm fall back into the pouch then moves back to in front. His little heart pitter pattering like the golden’s had early. What a strange turn of the tables. Now it was the deer’s turn to reject the future he foresaw in this scene. He comes to the head of the gold and he leaps up, slamming down with threat, enough to vibrate the earth. “AM!” It came roaring through the bond, followed by a long bellow. The golden’s face feel, closing in on itself and at first the stag stepped back, fearing failure. But there was it seemed some thread, some loose strands still blowing in the breeze for the golden to grab on. His head slowly rises, swaying a bit, but coming up steadily. Then in an ungraceful quickness, driven by jerks, he pulls himself up again. Half way he wavers as his weight falls on the twisted leg, but the dark deer is quick. His heart blooms again with the golden’s effort and it strengths him. He leaps to the Laurelin’s side, steading him. Yet standing does not prove life will live. His body begin to tremble more consistently, and his head hangs low, sick with even more wheezing and coughing. The shadow at his side, Haldir, has trembles of his own the thoughts of what this might mean. What future still awaited the gold. But he had gotten him up. His mind races to think of help. But here he falls short. Help. Where would he find help. So few times the golden had asked it of others that the deer was at a loss to find a source now. He knew not where to turn. Only home, the Basin seemed promising, and it was a long walk away. With ears held back pensively the deer comes forward, his nose nudging the golden’s head. It grinds to a halt in its labors to breath but lifts, and when it falls back it finds a soft solid back to lay upon. A strange sight appears. The faintest wisps of a warm smile wary like a ghost on the golden’s lips, before the next effort for breath murders it. The deer steps forward, worriedly, but stumbling forward as well, the golden follows. How they managed to make it to the Basin is a dull and arduous tale, full of nothing but pain and worry, yet is still nothing short of a miracle. It showed. Haldir had taken on at some point the wolf cloak and satchel. The dark blank eyes of the gold looked out over the landscape, making their own way now, though he still stumbles, much to poor Haldir’s worry. The golden’s sight was blurred, too bright, and was constantly blackened against the struggle and strain. Most time though it was the jolted stop to cough that troubled him most. The wheezing hack, sending tremors through his body, zapped all his energy. But here they were. The sentinels on either side. Haldir breathed easier at last. Safe. Cool fresh air blows across the golden face lifting his mane from the leafen star, but it does little to revive the Laurelin. His world was only pain and agony. A long march to hell where he belonged. Nothing else came through the fog that seemed to wrap his mind. No thoughts of the battle, or those in it. No thoughts of the Moon Goddess, or the land she had brought forth. There wasn’t even thought to where they were going, or the signs of the Basin. He thought nothing. He moved unthinkingly. Uncaring. So dull and dumb driven that even the pain and struggle was becoming an unthinking common. A burden of the ordinary. It was only when his dark eyes laid upon the dark lake below some thought pressed through the fog. Water. 0h it looked so wonderful. Water. His throat felt constricted, and tight, but water. With a jerky stumbling gait he rumbles forward. Haldir, who had been heading to the healer’s cave threw his bonded a most shocked look, and jogged after him. Oh but water, the golden thought. He comes like a broken puppet to the lake, coughing most every breath with the strain and effort. The blood coming once more, and wounds bringing fresh sting, but oh to taste that tongue numbing cold liquid. To feel it clean and pure. He nearly falls at the shoreline in his madness, and the stag by his side rushes forward. Water. Water. It filled the golden’s thoughts and made his heart beat again. Dark nose, stained with crimson buries into the water, mouth open filling full. Water, sweet and pure water. But as he drinks his throat swallowing it greedily, little of the hoped for relief comes. His throat still scratches and his muscles still trembles. Yet it does wash away some of his madness, returning pieces of humanity. He harks move, hearing the soft lapping of water, and the pensive whines of Haldir. His eyes grow a little more focused, and his mind at last lifts a little from the fog. Water. A lake. Where was he? Head lifts slightly, but cringes immediately at feeling the damage left on its surface. A battle. There had been a battle. But there was no one here. Dilated eyes glance over mountains and pines. Basin. He was in the Basin. But where was the battle? What happened? He is interrupted before he gets far by screams from the treeline not far. There? Was that the battle? No… That was far. Away and far. Legs tremble but he pushes his weight on, stumbling in the same awkward gait as before forward. Haldir can only watch from behind in stress, following though he knows it will bring nothing good. A mass presses harder on his lungs and the golden jerks to a stop, he mouth gasping and hacking again. But even in the whirl of his own darkness her voice, screaming in dejection and agony, cuts across like a bolt of lightning. Hotaru. Though no version of her he knew reflected in that scream. He comes into the scene silently. Part of his returned humanity granting him the last strength to pull his head up slightly and quiet his shallow wheezing. His vision was still blurred, but it found the crumpled pink form immediately. Mind was still a mess as it tried to pull together the pieces. He felt uneasy. Called here, but stuck. Some dark shadow pressed against him to see her, but he could not escape it. Yet worse of all, his mind fumbled for why. What had she done to cause this? Not many pressed so close on his being. Haldir strained at the sight and still impatient about the golden’s struggle forced the answer through. “Fela” [the cave] That’s right the cave. The hunt. Then…. something, something else. A muscle spasm on his shoulder constricted his focus. No. He didn’t belong here. This, this woman. He didn’t like it. It was too hard. Too much to think through. He wanted to turn, to leave. To escape. But the dark deer, seeing the fallen woman, and his own good heart pounding in his throat speaks through. “ Hin baur nesta” [She needs help] It drifted softly, like a plea. The gold lungs gives way and break his silence, sending in spasm a set of shakes and tremors through him. When his gaze comes back he knows there’s no hiding himself, but yet he can’t place himself here. Had his body not labored under the mark of death he would have gone, left her to herself. That’s where he always found himself after all. Visions drift. A thundering storm on the plains. A deserted snow top. A dark cave. He was always there alone, with ghosts and voices. A hollow being, who saw his reflection ironically as matching the figure standing here. One beaten and crippled, lost in the fog of reality and feeling. A refugee of another world so foreign to this. Always he stood alone. None by his side. None to draw him forth. Those days after sickness and spar, always found him in that dark shadow of the cave. A trembling beast waiting for time to grant him the burning of his aged gold, so he could rise again. But never was there another warm body. Another soul to speak his name or lay beside him. Yet he always survived. Or he thought he did. It seemed more confusing now. “Hotaru…” It came broken and whispered from lungs crushed by the weight of survival’s demand. But in its core a question, a hesitation. That scream could not be placed easily as hers. Such pain. Such force. Such lostness. Was it really her? Was she really collapsed? Was she dying? Was lost? His hesitation, pulling in his own confusion. The effort cost him, and his lungs seize again, though he bites it back sending all the more convulsion about his back. Even as she curled upon the earth, laying bare, his position was more dangerous to himself. He had lied. It seems like such a little thing to grimace and raise his head back up, but look closer! Look at the tremble of those black dull eyes, and see his own fears grow from the land he has sewn. Even in this storm of unknown, in the confusion and darkness, his lies surrounding the real wounds hold fast. He was the golden. He was the Laurelin Thief. His image carrying above all else. Some distant, independent entity. Needing neither help nor care, only corners of your worst fears to grow in. Those were the threads he had clung to stand again. Those were chains so strong they held him up right. But she had seen their weak links. She, among the few, was the first to test their strength. It made her dangerous. It made her powerful. It made her a quagmire in his thoughts. It is what pushed him away from her. She threatened to rip off what held him up. Yet he holds. Trembling and pathetic. In some dark corner, some locked away voice of reason long banished, whispers, perhaps he didn’t mind them being ripped away. No. NO! You silly reader. You bought into that thought? Can you not see, can you not learn?! He was the golden. The voice was locked away for a reason. A painful, soul eating reason. One lost in the dark of other places and dusted with age. Another breath strained, and his thoughts drift. Go in and out. Yet she needed help. Haldir had said that. So here he was. Cloaked in the same bitter helplessness he had found upon the mountain tops seasons ago, and crowned in the lies of his own making, of his kingdom. Wondering why her cloak and crown lay thrown aside. "talk talk talk" OOC:: Was attacked in the last of the battle by Lakota (Brit gave permission). He is suffering from cyanide air poisoning stuff, causing near constant tremors, dilated eyes, coughing of blood/ (from a chest hit too), and slight disorientation. Lakota's bear attacked his shoulder, leaving a gash at his withers, and a small bite at his neck, and Lakota landed a kick on his shoulder, causing him to stumble and twist his ankle. Whew! Aka, he's a bit beat up. XD Thranduil
His words are clever and bright
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