The Disgrace of Rohan
April 28, 2004
Introduction by Eowyn
eowyn kicked her legs, flailed her arms and shouted curses and threats all the way to the door to her cell, where the orcs roughly deposited her in the floor, slamming the heavy wooden door behind them. she banged on the door for a while and screamed at the two orc guards. eventually she sulked off to her pallet and threw herself upon her blanket and began to softly sob.
when the spell of enchantment had first been lifted, she had felt fear, for she had found herself surrounded by enemies with no weapons or means of protection. however, she remembered the things she had done under influence of spell and potion, and a spark of anger was aroused. the spark grew and grew the more the witch-king talked to her and spoke of her words of love to him, her delicate touch and gentle kisses. wilst under enchantment she had burned with the fires of passion... now she burned with unquenchable fires of anger.
for many years, her love for her brother and uncle was all that had kept her from falling into complete and total despair and subsequent thralldom to saruman and wormtongue. it was a desire to protect her uncle from a dishonorable death combined with a desire to die in battle that drove her to fight the fears that gripped so many others and challenge the witch-king. but she had failed, and had been captured and taken to the houses of lamentation. her attempts were commendable, but in the long run, utterly useless.
now her uncle was dead. the battle had been lost. she did not know the fate of her brother. there was no one whom she could love or protect.... nothing to cling to. the only things she had left were anger and the desire for revenge. it appeared that that darkness unescapable had descended upon the west and horrible doom had finally befallen. she had rode to battle with no hope seeking death. now she was in prison with no hope still seeking death...and revenge.
eowyn blazed with the fires of orodurin amid its many torments. her stomach knotted itself up, red spots flecked across her vision and she felt light-headed. she would like to kill the witch-king for disgracing her honor. her uncle's head was a trophy upon sauron's wall, and she had been the witch-king's own trophy, a spoil of war, a reward of battle, a pretty toy for an idle hour. the beauty of the white lily of rohan had been tainted by the darkness of mordor. oh yes she would kill him.... or die trying. she desired one long, bloody fight that would bring about her own death and the deaths of as many of the servants of the enemy that she could kill.
time passed. the orcs came back to her and dragged her several levels into another chamber. she fought like a wild cat the whole way, escaping their grasp a few times, but always being caught again. she was taken into a big room with a tub in the middle. the orcs managed to take her clothing, but not without a massive struggle. indeed their hideous black skin would be covered in bruises in a few hours. they forced her into a tub of soapy, perfumed water, and taunted her with cries of "ha! soon you will no longer smell of horse!" she fought them with increased passion but she slipped in the soapy tub, banging her head against the side. then all went black and she knew no more.
when she woke up she was back in the dungeon, wrapped up in a blanket. fighting had exhausted her, and the fires of her anger were slowly giving way to floods of despair. she was trapped... in a cage again, this time almost literally. there was no way out. she cried herself to sleep.
Angmar: *Eowyn has been removed from her
former cell and taken to a slightly better one.*
Angmar: *After her bath, she was given better clothing than her peasant garb. She should dress appropriately to have an audience with the Morgul Lord*
Angmar: *She is once again ordered to be brought before the Morgul Lord.*
Angmar: *Two orcs are sent to her cell and after the usual bantering with the orcs guarding Eowyn's cell*
Angmar: *After being taken to his chambers, she is brought in by the orcs and told to stand before the Black Captain*
Eowyn: *she, of course, struggles with the orcs as they move her through corridor after corrodir. finally she finds herself in the witch-king's chambers. she glares at him, panting*
Angmar: Bow before me Eowyn.
Eowyn: yes my... lord *she says coldly, gritting her teeth and bowing quickly*
Angmar: *He speaks very softly to her* Eowyn, how do you find your treatment?
Eowyn: *she glares at him even more. how could he ask such a stupid question?*
Eowyn: you ask me that? *she asks quietly*
Angmar: *Again in a soft voice, he says* Then I assume you find it satisfactory?
Eowyn: *she mutters something under her breath*
Angmar: Eowyn, come closer to my chair so I can see you better
Eowyn: *she walks to him slowly... does she really have a choice in the matter? each step closer makes her tremble more and more with fear... but her anger gives her courage*
Eowyn: *she stares at him her heart pounding. she clenches her fists. she feels utterly helpless and defenseless...*
Angmar: *He enhales deeply* Eowyn, you smell much better tonight
Angmar: At last you have been rid of the stench of horse
Eowyn: *she says quietly..* you wish to degrade me more? havent you done enough already?
Eowyn: if i smell of anything it is with the foul stench of the nameless land of darkness *she says in a whisper*
Angmar: *He hesitates*
Angmar: *He was a little angry but refused to let it show*
Angmar: Ah, Eowyn, ever the wit
Angmar: But sometimes your tongue is sharp
Angmar: Can you sweeten it?
Eowyn: perhaps my tongue would be not as sharp as my sword if i were in better company..
Eowyn: *said quietly eyes looking at the floor*
Angmar: Eowyn, a sharp tongued woman is never appealing
Angmar: Come closer. Let me look at you better
Eowyn: *flames of anger rose up inside her... how dare he! she walked closer to him, avoiding the gaze of his glittering eyes*
Angmar: Such a pretty mouth to utter such words as you do. Shame, Eowyn, shame
Angmar: *He takes his unarmored and ungloved hand and holds it to her. He takes one finger and touches her lips*
Angmar: Such a pretty smile would it be if the corners were not turned down
Eowyn: *she gasps as the unseen hand touches her lips. it is cold like ice and numbing to her skin. she shudders and backs away*
Eowyn: please do not utter such words, lord... have you not disgraced me enough already?
Angmar: Eowyn, you have not been "disgraced." You have been...... blessed
Angmar: Now I command you to come back closer
Angmar: You cannot resist me Eowyn. You know you cannot
Eowyn: *once again anger surges through her but fear comes upon her like waves*
Eowyn: i will resist you as long as i can, as long as i have my own will, as long as i can breathe, as long as i have life
Eowyn: *but yet... she is drawn against her will to come closer to him.. ever closer... her heart pounds. beads of sweat appear on her forehead. but yet she comes closer with shaky footsteps*
Angmar: *Once again, he places his finger upon her lips* Eowyn, such delicate lips.....
Angmar: *he lightly traces the outline of her lips with his finger*
Angmar: I have not brought you here for my entertainment Eowyn *the orcs burst out in laughter*
Eowyn: *she shudders at his cold touch. her eyes flutter shut. she swallows hard.* *said softly* i beg thee let me die and not condemn me to such torment
Angmar: Nor have I brought you here for your death, though you seem to desire that most of all. No you shall live
Angmar: *He takes his finger and moves it down to her chin* Such a firm chin, Eowyn. Such determination there
Angmar: Ah, news of your people. That is what I have brought you here for. *He takes his finger and moves it down from her chin to her neck and strokes it*
Eowyn: *she squeezes her eyelids closed even tighter. his touch is a misery upon her skin... it feels like the cold hands of death*
Angmar: Yes, your people, Eowyn.... such proud people
Angmar: It seems truly a pity to see them as they will soon be
Eowyn: *her eyes open and flash with anger* it takes only one foe to breed a war... and the misery of thousands will be on your head
Angmar: Eowyn, you seem always overly concerned with my head. I appreciate your concern
Angmar: *his finger strokes her neck and then goes down below her collarbone* Such soft skin, delicate
Angmar: And you say the women of Rohan have ungentle hands? Nay, Eowyn. There is nothing ungentle about you
Eowyn: *her face flushes red and she moves back from him, her hand going up to her neck*
Eowyn: *she would attempt to throttle him here if there were not orc guards standing behind her*
Eowyn: do not speak of such things, lord!
Angmar: *Now softly than before, almost a whisper, he says* Come to me Eowyn
Eowyn: *she steps forward, tightly pressing her hands against her neckline*
Eowyn: *she says in a whisper* i hate you
Eowyn: your land and your master
Eowyn: may you all be condemned forever to dark oblivion
Angmar: *he reaches his hand out and moves her hands away in one motion and places his hand upon her heart*
Angmar: Eowyn, how your heart flutters like a wounded bird....
Eowyn: *she shuts her eyes tightly. his cold touch.... icy as the chill of death... upon her skin again. she feels light headed. she feels she may faint.* a elbereth.. *she says weakly, barely auidable*
Angmar: *he draws his hand back suddenly*
Angmar: Eowyn! Speak no words such as that in my presence!
Angmar: Or I will rip your pretty tongue from your head! *his eyes glow redder*
Eowyn: *she averts her eyes from his pericing gaze and says quietly* then lord keep your foul hands off my gentle skin
Eowyn: *her eyes flutter... everything seems to be swirling into mist*
Angmar: *He rises to his feet and looks directly at her* Eowyn, I will place my hands, which you thought not so foul recently enough, wherever I wish upon you, for you are my thrall, mortal, and remember it well!
Eowyn: *he arises from his seat... and fear descends upon her even more. she takes an unsteady step backwards from him.*
Eowyn: do not condem me to such torment. let me die... die like all those upon the battlefield
Eowyn: i would rather die than be a subject of mordor, than to be locked in a dank dungeon under earth and seen by evil eyes
Angmar: Nay, Eowyn, you shall live, and I will see you live a very long time yet to come. Remember, your account with me is not paid in full. Not yet, not by any means!
Angmar: Be pleased that I released you from the spells of bewitchment that held you. I want you in your mind and I want you to remember well
Angmar: *he sits down again*
Angmar: Soon, all of Rohan will grovel at Sauron's feet and at his servants' feet. Count yourself fortunate Eowyn. You are among the first!
Eowyn: you wish to torture me, for your master is faithless and abominable, and are you not his servant? my people will die fighting you, die fighting darkness unescapable
Angmar: Eowyn, no, not torture you. Your flesh is much too lush for that. I will keep you.....
Angmar: For when I wish.... entertainment...
Angmar: Look forward to your next time with me... and plan to provide suitable..... entertainment
Angmar: And wear the black dress. It becomes your skin and hair
Angmar: And your other charms
Eowyn: i would rather die than bless you with my charms... and wear rags used to clean horses feet than the finery of the nameless land
Angmar: *He whispers* Come, Eowyn, come closer
Eowyn: *she is compelled to move back to him. she grits her teeth and takes a shaky step forward*
Angmar: *he takes his hand and moves it to her face. Two fingers touch below her eyes* Your eyes are swollen. Too much crying Eowyn
Angmar: You must stop that, for it sullies your lovely face
Eowyn: *how much longer? how much longer? before she breaks down in convulsions of despair or convulsions of anger? she shudders at his touch, his touch that she has been forced to feel for so long in this place of torment*
Eowyn: i would prefer to sully my eyes by crying than you further sully my honor
Angmar: *he moves his hands down past her eyelids and they linger gently on her cheek*
Angmar: *then a finger touches her lips* Eowyn, your lips... so full.. so delicate..... so sweet
Angmar: But such words have come from them. You should tend your lips better
Eowyn: pray take your hands from my face lord *she says coldly*
Eowyn: and such words will always come out of my mouth, as long as i have my will *she ignores the feeling of despair slowly creeping upon her*
Angmar: Ah, Eowyn, you ask of me a favor, a boon? He who asks for my clemency must do my bidding
Angmar: Do you wish to do that? *he laughs. The orcs join him again*
Eowyn: never would i do your bidding or serve your master for you are all evil and accursed!
Angmar: Then I will not grant you a favor and I will leave my hands where I will
Angmar: *his hand moves back to her heart and places it there*
Angmar: Again, your heart beats hard. You should stay its frantic rythmn, my little Eowyn
Eowyn: *she takes her own hand and grasps him by the wrist, though it brings her bitter pain*
Angmar: *he takes her hand and pulls her violently towards him* So you desire my touch, Eowyn? You desire it that much?
Angmar: Then you shall have it *he looks her in the eyes and holds her there*
Eowyn: i desire a slow painful death in agony and torment more than i desire for you to touch me again
Eowyn: *she turns her head away from his gaze*
Angmar: *he still holds her by one hand and he takes the other hand and forces her to look at him into his eyes. He whispers* But not tonight, Eowyn, you shall not have that pleasure, for I have more important matters than you to attend
Angmar: *he releases her hand and takes his other away from her head*
Eowyn: *she looks into his eyes and they seem to bore holes through her mind. she winces in pain. tears come into her eyes*
Eowyn: *gasping in anger, fear and disgust, she spits at him*
Angmar: *His eyes glow a deep red. He stands up and slaps her across the face with one hand*
Angmar: Next time, Eowyn, lovely maiden, use your tongue and lips for better purposes!
Eowyn: *she falls to the side but catches herself*
Eowyn: the only purpose my tongue shall have *she says definately her teeth gritted and her ands clenched* is to curse you and mordor even more
Angmar: Come here and wipe your accursed spit from my face!
Eowyn: yes.... my.... lord... *she says, her teeth grinding. she approaches him takes the long flowing sleeve of her dress and wipes the spit from his face. hard. very hard. more like a slap. her hand is burnt by his icy touch even through the thick velvet of her dress*
Angmar: And control your temper next time, Eowyn! Now try to tear yourself away from me for I am having the orcs to take you back to your "guest room"!
Angmar: *he orders the ever present orc guards to take her away and they do so with obvious glee on their faces*
Eowyn: *as she is dragged down the hall by the orcs she screams out* may the darkness that you love so well reach out and swallow you up and it be a prison for you and your kind forever!
Eowyn: murderers! all of you! abominable murderers! *she screams even more until she gets back to her cell*
Eowyn: *thrust into her cell once again she screams pounds at the door and shouts more curses and threats at the orcs. then finally collapses upon her pallett once again weeping*
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