May 18, 2021 3:31 AM
lay of leithian, or, why decima is no longer allowed to propose thread ideas while manic
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The work goes quickly enough, Mygwainor nearest Luthien - though not in sprinting range of her - and Serendipitous Kill planning to harass the orcs from close range on the other side after the women's attacks put the caravan into enough disarray.

Mygwainor's arrows drop several of the most well positioned guards all along the caravan before their enemies have time to more than flinch, and the battle is on, beasts panicking, orcs drawing weapons - trying to use the wagons for shelter, some going for bows, some for blades or spears -

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Luthien sings in time to her arrows, confusion and clumsiness and the fear that locks legs in place.

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Mygwainor sings of death, wounds that won't staunch, pains that distract, a great lurking beast that will seize their throats.

And yet several of the orcs push through, rushing toward Luthien.

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She drops her bow and draws her sword, meeting the first with a silver arc that cleaves limbs from body.

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He falls with a harsh shout, but more are pressing toward her.

Mygwainor turns her bow to killing those not too near Luthien, though she's also continually working to prevent any from making a run for it, slowly working herself over closer to her betrothed.

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She begins dancing with her sword through her opponents, keeping the blade always moving to use its great length to best advantage.

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A group of orcs have noticed Luthien's betrothed too, sadly, and Serendipitous Kill is having the somewhat unanticipated side effect of flushing the orcs towards the two women.

Mygwainor switches for her blade, too. It's shorter than Luthien's, and she strikes faster, more viciously, keeping on her feet as blood sprays around her.

A few orcs do come close to injuring either woman, but none succeed.

The horizon's turning a bit less of a murky grey by the time they down their last opponent, and Mygwainor picks up a spear and sets to making sure all the downed orcs are actually dead.

She's covered in splatters of dark blood, breathing heavily, pupils wide in the low light.

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There's a faint sheen of sweat on Luthien's brow and she's breathing harder than usual. A streak of blood paints the left side of her face down onto her shoulder.

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"Are you alright?" her betrothed asks, stepping over to her.

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She cups Luthien's cheek, thumb brushing through the blood smear. "You made a bit of a mess of yourself..." 

There's a weird feeling in her chest, looking at Luthien like this.

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"You're not much better," she says, raising an eyebrow.

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"A bit messier, even," she murmurs, and then kisses her betrothed.

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"My wonderful, dangerous Ellin..."

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"My fierce little kitten."

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Small wiggle!

"I love you."

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Softer kiss. "How about we send Serendipitous Kill back to let Finrod know everything's gone smoothly, while we get the supplies and everything ready?"

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"That sounds like an intelligent plan."

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Smile.

On to do that, then, and, as they're working: "I liked watching you fight."

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"Very much. Focused, deadly, talented... Makes my heart race."

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"Maybe we should do this more often."

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"Find enemy forces to slaughter?"

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