Half Breed - Lord of the Rings

»39«

Eyelids heavy, yawning, tired, Lyanne sat and ate breakfast with Lord Elrond. The green food on the plate almost caused Lyanne to frown as years with only dwarves for company had her used to a diet of meat. "Aren't you hungry?" Asked Elrond.

In response, Lyanne shook her head. "It isn't that. I'm tired."

"Did you sleep well?"

Lyanne mentally laughed at the question. Did I sleep well? She snorted. Getting a good nights sleep was not something she was used to. Not for a good few thousand years. "Not exactly." Mumbled the half breed. "I dreamt of when the Curse first came." Her voice was barely even audible, but elves had the keenest of hearings. The look in Elrond's eyes changed and his eyelids fell over his deep blue eyes and he sighed. "I have this . . . this feeling. It will not go away." Said Lyanne. Lord Elrond looked at her in question. "It feels . . . I feel like something is going to happen. Not now, sometime within this century."

"How long have you felt this way?"

"Some time." Muttered Lyanne. The dark haired Half Breed rolled her shoulders back and straightened her back. Every muscle in her body was tensed and ached. The feeling in her gut sent waves of emotions through her. Confusion. Fear. Anger. Sorrow . . . grief.

"Do you believe that there is even the slightest chance of him leaving the Void?"

Lord Elrond snapped. "No! Morgoth will never leave that place. He is bound to the Void by powerful magic, the Creator Himself made sure that he will remain sealed there for all eternity."

Lyanne swore in the elvish tongue. "»The Creator be damned.«"

"Lyanne," Lord Elrond breathed.

"I hold no love for Him and never will I ever again. What has He done for us? He created us and then He abandoned us. He cowered back from He came when Melkor grew stronger and-"

"Morgoth." The elven Lord corrected.

"I'm old!" Said Lyanne harshly. "I was born before he was evil. I lived for years while he was still good. This is all the Creator's fault." A row of curses left the Half Breed's pale lips. She stood from her chair and took one step back, but she lost her footing.

A great darkness consumed her, and she fell. Though physically she only fell as far as to the stone floor underneath her feet, her mind plunged into a dark void, filled with evil and dark magic.

*

Lyanne.

What was that distant voice?

Lyanne.

There it was again.

There was no light. Only darkness. No good. Only evil.

Bruises began to form on Lyanne's throat, as well as on her left shoulder. She struggled, kicked and pushed and hit over, and over, and over again. It was of no use.

»You shall be the one who frees me«. The language was old, close to dead. Lyanne, Gandalf and the four remaining wizards and Sauron himself were the only beings who spoke the ancient tongue of Valarin. Even though Sauron had no physical shape.