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*