Eowyn Becomes Maltriel

March 25, 3019
Sunday, May 2, 2004

Angmar: *It is now the night of March 25, 3019. Angmar has summoned two orcs to go to Eowyn's cell and bring her before him*
Eowyn: *she grudingly bows before him... fearful and loathing his presence at the same time but enjoying being out of her dank cell*
Angmar: *He nods at her, both revolted at a mortal and yet somehow strangely attracted to her*
Angmar: Ah, Eowyn, how does life in my dungeon suit you?
Eowyn: *she hesitates, knowing that everything he would say to her is to torment her in some way* *quietly* miserable, my lord...
Angmar: *He laughs* I daresay, Eowyn, my dungeon is better than what you have known at Meduseled
Eowyn: *her hands at her sides into fists. and says in a cold voice* that is a lie.... our stables are more fit to live in than the dungeons of this wretched place
Angmar: Eowyn, I know your people well!
Angmar: The horse lords can barely write their own name. They are incapable of writing their own tales, their own lore. They rely upon songs to tell it
Eowyn: *she grits her teeth... she has heard these words before except more sweetly said*
Eowyn: not all of our people are ignorant peasants...
Angmar: I would suppose your uncle and even your brother could write their own names
Angmar: But outside of your arrogant nobles I doubt any of the peasants could read a single rune
Eowyn: *her uncle.... the mention brings to mind when she was shown his head, which was taken to lugburz as a trophy* that is not true... we have our own language... and can read and write
Angmar: The horse lords are vain, arrogant, stiff-necked peasants whose only skill is in riding and raising horses
Angmar: But after they have been taught to realize the errors of their ways, I advise your nobles, or what is left of them, to learn to read..... so they can read the terms of surrender and sign them with their marks
Eowyn: *a fire of rage burns inside her. she would attempt to throttle him now if it werent for the fact she was guarded by orcs* we will never surrender! *she says behind gritted teeth... tears of rage coming to her eyes*
Angmar: My lady Eowyn, I have a treat for you tonight, which I will soon get..... unless you would like to see the face of your uncle again? *he asks in a tone of questioning*
Eowyn: *she grits her teeth... tears of grief and anger she tries to stop* do not disgrace my uncles body more than you have already, though i suppose you have no honor
Angmar: Then you do not wish to gaze into his eyes? But I assure you he will not talk to you! *he breaks off into a wicked laugh*
Eowyn: i tried to save him, i tried to make his death honorable. he should be buried in a mound in edoras in highest honor symbelmine upon his barrow
Angmar: Eowyn! Your uncle's body? It shall never be buried in a mound as is the custom of your people
Angmar: My beast took care of that problem before I left the fields of Pelennor
Eowyn: you have no honor, faithless thrall of a faithless enemy, foul lord of carrion
Angmar: As I have said, your people are stubborn and arrogant but they shall learn submission as you shall!
Eowyn: never, never, shall i submit to you, if i have my own will to choose and not beguiled by spell or potion
Eowyn: *she ignores the tears coming down her face*
Angmar: Eowyn, you have proved very difficult. I had hoped not to deal with you with more spells and potions but you leave me no alternative
Eowyn: *she feels satisfied that she has posed great difficulties but fears more potions and what they may do* the people of rohan are very strong and some ride to battle fearing neither death nor pain
Eowyn: *her voice inadvertantly falters at the end of her statement*
Angmar: Eowyn, when first I met you, I assumed that your health was as strong as your will, but I have learned that it is not
Angmar: Rather than see you come to grief in my dungeon, I will have you moved in the morning to dryer quarters with a window so you can get some more air
Angmar: Do not think you can escape through the window or kill yourself by jumping for it will be barred
Eowyn: *internally she curses herself for her phsyical limitations but realizes that days of being in dark damp cells with only torchlight heighten her despair, and the black shadow often falls upon her*
Eowyn: *is surprised by his kindness but fears it to be some trick* thank you my lord *quietly she looks down*
Angmar: *he summons two orcs to him* Bring the silver vial.....
Eowyn: *looks up in shock and horror. oh how she knows what that is* oh no my lord *gasps.. looks around... steps a few feet back...*
Eowyn: i would rather die a slow death of horrible torture than be enslaved to your will!
Angmar: Eowyn, consider it not enslavement. Consider it "enlightenment"
Angmar: *He orders the orcs to pour the liquid from the silver vial down her throat....*
Angmar: Soon my lady, you will say things that you would never say otherwise, but enjoy them
Eowyn: *she sturggles madly against the orcs. the potion misses her mouth and spills all over her face and dress.. feeling cold and burning her skin*
Angmar: *He orders the orcs to get yet another vial and to hold her upon the floor and force her mouth open so she will have to swallow*
Angmar: *This is one of his most wicked and potent potions, a varient of the Morgul poison but will not bring death, but strong enchantment*
Eowyn: *she fights with renewed energy against them, biting down hard upon their hands when they try to force her mouth open*
Eowyn: *hideous black blood fills her mouth causing her to gag*
Angmar: *Angmar does not wish to destroy her physically but break her mentally and bend her to his will for he has plans for her for the future*
Eowyn: *she hears the orc whom she is biting scream... and hears the sound of crunching bones. yet she has not swollowed the foul potion*
Angmar: *Death would be too easy a punishment for her, Angmar feels for he is vengeful towards her for daring to try to fight him at Pelenor*
Angmar: *And he hates all the people of the west. he seeks only to disgrace them and degrade them, and this woman now is subject to some of his worst fury. But he is subtle and will not say that*
Eowyn: *she still struggles with the orcs, fighting harder than ever, desperately. she has severed one orcs finger with her teeth. she gags, coughing spitting up. her eyes roll slightly*
Angmar: *Angmar sees what is going on and is not pleased*
Angmar: *He curses her in a speech she does not know, with many evil invocations*
Angmar: *And almost shouts at her* Woman! You make this so difficult upon yourself
Angmar: *He gets up and goes over to her, and takes out a Morgul blade and holds it over her* Do you wish this, woman? Tell me if you wish it and I will give it to you
Eowyn: *she looks up at him not knowing what the blade is or its powers* if you wish to give me death i will gladly take it
Eowyn: *she thinks it is a normal blade*
Angmar: *He stands with the blade over her heart. The orcs move aside in fear. The orc with the severed finger clutches it and moves to the side of the room*
Angmar: Eowyn daughter of Eomond, this will not bring you death. No, never so easy my lady
Angmar: This will bring you into our world forever and you will be as we are. A servant to us
Eowyn: *her eyes widen. she gasps. she begins to tremble uncontrollably, tears running down her face* if that is what you wish lord then do it. i will not beg for mercy
Eowyn: *she turns her head to the side and closes her eyes*
Angmar: Eowyn, I offer you an option. The sword or the contents of the vial. Let it be your choice
Eowyn: *she turns her head towards him opening her eyes.. forcing her self to look into his glittering eyes* i would prefer a quick death or a slow death by torture
Eowyn: *her heart pounds, desparate... there must be a way out there must be a way out! her breathing becomes more rapid, her heartbeat increases. hope fails. what little there was of it.*
Angmar: Then you wish to abide with us forever? To be as we are?
Eowyn: no never! *her hand moves to her throat. she cant catch her breath. she feels like she is suffocating. she looks at him her eyes wide with horror. her heart leaps in her chest feels like it will fail her. the room begins to swirl around her... shapes of darkness moving in to surround her. is this death? is she dying?*
Angmar: What is your choice, Eowyn? This blade or the vial? *He moves the blade down slowly until the point of it reaches her skin above her heart*
Eowyn: *she feels the cold tip of the blade against her skin. she trembles even more.... any hope of catching her breath again now lost. her heart beats so loud it almosts leaps against the blades point. her eyes flutter and she goes limp against the floor in a swoon*
Angmar: *He kicks her unconscious body* Wake up woman!
Eowyn: *does not move*
Angmar: *But this does not rouse her. He moves away from her, goes to the cabinet, gets another silver vial. He goes back to her, forces her mouth open, and pours the contents down*
Angmar: *He stands beside her prostrate form and says* Not by any measure has your account been paid in full, Eowyn daughter of Eomond
Eowyn: *she slowly begins to rouse coughing slightly*
Eowyn: *her eyes flutter open. where is she? she feels so cold... it is snowing. everything is pale, except for a dark figure standing over her. she blinks trying to adjst her vision*
Angmar: *He reaches his hand down to her* Stand up, my lady, take my hand
Angmar: And face me and tell me that you honor your lord
Eowyn: *she takes his hand and unsteadily gets to her feet. facing him, she bows low* my lord i honor thee greatly until the end of my days
Angmar: *To bind the spell even more firmly he says words in an ancient language*
Angmar: My lady, you have been unwell. You need medicine to make you strong again. *He turns from her and goes to his cabinet and mixes the contents of three vials*
Angmar: *He goes back to her* You must drink this
Eowyn: yes my lord... i... i... feel strange. i must be sick. thank you.. *she takes the vial he gives her and drinks it*
Angmar: *He knows that one of the results of this spell and the potions is to make her forget her own name and her own past*
Angmar: My lady, as I say, you have been ill. Do you remember your name?
Eowyn: *she thinks* no my lord... i do not know my name... *she seems confused and afraid*
Angmar: I am sorry that you have been ill. Your name is Maltriel, which means in the Elvish speech Lady Garlanded by Gold
Angmar: You are my betrothed
Angmar: Now kiss me!
Eowyn: *she gasps* oh! *still confused* *she goes to him takes him in her arms and kisses him*
Eowyn: *not noticing the coldness of the undead skin*
Angmar: *For this enchantment gives her the delusion that she sees Aragorn whom she first loved*
Angmar: My lady, Maltriel, is this the way to kiss your betrothed? Let me show you how fair maiden, for you know not of such things. It is obvious
Angmar: *he moves his arms around her back and embraces her tightly*
Angmar: *he kisses her fully and long upon her willing lips*
Eowyn: *she closes her eyes enjoying this moment. for she was sick and now she is well. the cold winter seems to have passed into spring and she is with her beloved*
Angmar: *He releases her grudgingly. How he wishes she were like this out of enchantment. He sighs*
Angmar: My lady, the hour is late, and you have been very sick
Angmar: You will like your new room that has been prepared for you. Rest well, my lady, rest well
Eowyn: *she looks at him adoringly... her vision filled with blurriness she sees the vague form of her love*
Eowyn: yes.. yes.. *faintly* i have been sick... i will love my new room... i will love anything you give me. thank you my lord and healer
Angmar: *He orders two orcs to take her back to her room*
Angmar: *One orc looks knowingly at another and leers and they take her down the hall to her room, bowing respectfully this time*

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