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Subject: Trapped below stairs Author: Namün [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ] Date Posted: 17:44:13 05/27/02 Mon Namün suppressed a yawn as she carefully chopped up sweet smelling herbs with a sharp knife. As the minutes ticked by, the blade moved closer and closer to her small fingers. Her eyebrows were lowered in concentration, yet she had to struggle to stay awake. A night of little sleep, followed by a day fraught with nerves had taken their toll on her fragile body. At the death of the day, she was wilting like a rose deprived of water. A bell rang overhead- a summons. Glad of the chance to leave the cloying air of the kitchens, she began to rise. Mirwan appeared behind her, pushing her down again. Startled, the knife flew from her fingers, the carefully shredded herbs scattered. "You're going nowhere, Arainamün Girion." Uh oh. The use of her full name. This did not bode well. "I meant what I said. You're not to go near the nobles any more. Gethra can take over your duties of serving the ladies." Automatically, she opened her mouth to argue. Then she regretfully shut it. Nothing she could say would change Mirwan’s mind. The woman was clearly determined to keep her as far away from the courtiers- and Aragorn- as possible. And it’s working, she thought, he hasn’t bothered come find me. Does he even care? "As you wish Mirwan" she uttered obediently, too tired to fight any further. She picked up the knife again and continued her work. The woman bent and hissed in her ear spitefully, "Don’t try to fool me, Namün. I know your game. You’re too proud for your own good, sitting there, thinking only Royalty is good enough for you. Well you’re just like the rest of us- worse even. You’re a fallen woman." The cruel reminder cut her deeply. She muttered under her breath, more to reassure herself than anything else, "I’m not like you. I’ll never be like you." She felt Mirwan stiffen behind her. She’d heard. Biting her lip, she waited for the explosion, and what she knew was to come. Distracted, the knife slipped and cut into her finger. Wincing, Namün tried to stop the blood. Not that it mattered anyway. There would be more blood tonight, when she felt the bite of a whip on her back. [ Next Thread | Previous Thread | Next Message | Previous Message ]