His Corrupted Soul [Witch-King x OC]

Chapter XII : Where To Stand

"You were unsure which pain is worse - the shock of what happened or the ache for what never will." - Simon Van Booy

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|SOUNDTRACK|

Feast of Starlight - The Hobbit: Desolation of Smaug [Extended Edition]

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Inconnu was solemn as she ran the whetstone down the length of Ghosts Song. Sitting on a stool next to Sverundr's stall in the stables located on the lowest level of Minas Tirith, she was quiet in caring for the Westernesse blade. Sverundr too was quiet, though munched on his serving of hay while keeping one eye focused on his rider. He was worried, but unlike most other times he knew she would manage to work herself through what was troubling her. However, Inconnu herself was unsure of the solution concerning her father.

Megilan-uial was as unknown as any stranger would be, but was also frustratingly familiar as kin should be. As much as she wanted that familial connection of father and daughter, it was opposed by the new resentment of his absence and his clear rejection of her beloved. It was conflicting, wanting both but knowing that it was unlikely that Megilan-uial and Er-Murazor would ever get along.

The sliding of the whetstone paused, causing Sverundr to raise his head a few inches.

Inconnu knew that something terrible occurred between her beloved and her father. An event so horrible that it certainly left horrible scars in her father's memory - scars so deep that he could recognize the Witch-King of Angmar who was now mortal and had shed off Sauron's darkness from his very being. It surprised her how easily she had forgotten that he was Chieftain of the Nine not so long ago, second only the Dark Lord himself and his most cunning servant. She sighed, wondering the worth of those thoughts as she returned to sharpening her sword and Sverundr to his feed.

However, this silence only lasted a few minutes more before Sverundr's ears flicked a little. Enough to alert his rider to the sound of cautious footsteps. Entering the stables was none other than Megilan-uial, looking uncertain as she felt when she looked up from Ghosts Song. Sterling-grey eyes stared at each other in silence, but it would be Megilan-uial who would break it.

"Where is your heart?"

"With him," She responded with a lack of hesitation, and he sighed lightly.

"And where is he?"

"He wished to explore some parts of Minas Tirith, and I needed to care for my sword."

Megilan-uial looked down at the Westernesse blade, and his uncertain expression changed into one of shock.

"Ghosts Song... never had I thought I would lay eyes on it again."

"What do you mean?"

"It was lost when I rode with the last king of Gondor, Eärnur the First, and his knights to Minas Morgul."

It was plain to see how much time had affected him, a feature only the oldest elves truly possessed from having lived so long and seen much. And he looked greatly saddened by that fact as he pulled up another stool to sit on, though keeping a respectful distance between them. Gently, Inconnu set aside the whetstone and Ghosts Song.

"Is that why you did not return to Osgiliath, even when my mother sent word of my birth?"

"I could not leave Minas Tirith, for Minas Tirith needed all the help it could against the Witch-King, who had taken Minas Morgul when it had still been Minas Ithil and the deciding reason to leave for Minas Tirith. As I had helped the kingdom of Arthedain against him in the North, I had to help the men of Gondor against him here. I had become so immersed in my work that I..." He trailed off, his gaze distant though his eyes were fixed on her. "I had not noticed how few the letters were, nor the years between them. Eventually, King Eärnil's son, Eärnur, had become king and was far brasher and less wise concerning the Lord of Minas Morgul."