Aman shielded the little hobbit as she saw the dark figure step out from behind the tree. She wiped the blood out of her eyes so she could see who it was, but knew she didnt need to. She would know that figure anywhere.
Thrakatburz smiled and held out a piece of charred wood. Cautiously Aman took it, not sure what she was looking for.
"...all you need now is your hate." Aman stiffened as she remembered the day it happened.
She remembered the flames
the screams
the destruction
the dying elves and the lauging...men?
"Thats right Aman. It was not orcs who killed your tribe. No far from it." She laughed mirthlessly as she took as step forward. "It was elves and men."
Aman looked at her, her face carefully impassive.
"They had strayed. You twisted them-"
"Aye, as I myself was twisted! And who by? Oh, look at that, once again the answer is elves! They werent twisted though were they? I mean, he was king of the tribe, so he was someone to look up to. Didnt stop him killing HIS OWN GRANDSON DID IT!?"
The dark witch was practically shouting, shaking with rage and emotion. Aman tried desperatly to think of a way to counter it.
Then she stopped. What was the use? A terrible calm over took Amans mind. There was no point in fighting it; she had fought it all her life. Yet this twisted dark creature could show her, teach her how to embrace it....how to use it...
She dropped the piece of wood, and Thrakatbuz reached out and held it.
----------------------------------------------------
Lindir watched from behind a tree. He had followed Aman, but now watching her and the dark witch, he was ashamed to feel almost scared. What were they doing, and saying?
He watched the change come upon Amans face as she grasped the others hand. What had this dark creature done to the red haired witch?
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I am what I was, a harmless little devil
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