#some gore?

[levityleviathan]

Another scratch on the tally

[snarkymonkeyprime]

Mmmyesss.  Barduil!gods!AU.  :D

Bard's head rang, pain bursting with each throb.  He groaned and rolled to his stomach, waiting for the world to cease spinning.  Gut lurching, he managed to get his legs under him, forehead pressed into the dirt.  

"Bard!"

He grunted, folding his hand into a fist and pushing it against the earth.  Get up.  Get up!  The others, where were they?  The earth beneath them had heaved and then screams and fire.  The Valar only knew what had taken place.  He grit hit teeth and swallowed bile, trying to rise.  Everything tilted a second time and he collapsed onto his side, body weak.  Pain.  He hadn't felt it in so long, he'd almost forgotten how terrible it could be.

Eyes open and staring, he tried to remember.  The cave.  They had found a cave near where Denethor's compound had risen.  The perfect way to slip in.  Or to attempt to.  Yet, Bard could see moonlight above him.  Outside again.  How?

"Bard!"

Hands on his throat.  Cold and soft.  Pale face and haunted gray eyes.  He thought he laughed.  "I can feel it again," he groaned.  He was certain something had broken in his leg.  Numb from the knee down.  Thranduil's magic was piss poor if he could feel this now.

"I know.  Bard, forgive me; I know."

What?  He peered at Thranduil.  "What did you do?"

The elf god shook his head, pale hair matted with blood and dirt.  He'd never believed such a regal creature would ever show filth.  Bard reached up, touching the offal.  

And then he saw it.  The skin of his forearm, bare of marks.  The marks Thranduil had granted him were gone.  The connection severed.  He was free.  "Oh," he breathed, letting his arm drop.  Little wonder then he ached so poorly.

"He has us," Thranduil rasped.  He crouched over Bard, one hand on his cheek.  "Bard, he means to destroy the gods.  Means to ascend."

"Let him," Bard grunted.  He swallowed hard, pushing himself up into a seated position.  Thankfully, the world held this time.  He smiled grimly.  "Perhaps you have ruled too long, Thranduil."  Why had he not felt a burn similar to what had etched the symbols in his skin?  Woudn't that pain have taken him first?  Instead, his arm felt whole.

Thranduil lifted his chin, the gleam of sweat on his brow unnerving.  He wore armor and not his customary robes.  The metal etched with delicate whorls though one shoulder pauldron was missing.  "I would have saved you from this had I the choice, Bard," he stated, his voice cracking.

Bard frowned.  "Thranduil?"

The elf god's eyes fluttered and he shook his head.  He reached out with his left hand, fisting it in Bard's tunic.  "Had I know," he began, "I would have . . ."

Confused, he drop his hand to Thranduil's arm, expecting the god to recoil instantly.  Instead, his hand felt warm and wet, the skin slick under his fingers.  He looked down, his eyes wide in horror.   

The armor along Thranduil's forearm had been split away, chainmail shredded and dripping from his form.  Beneath it all, the pale flesh of the god had been torn apart, black with blood that continued to pump.

"Thranduil!"

The god smiled grimly, staring downward.  "He knew.  Knew what I had done.  Knew the link I had created."  His fingers tightened on Bard's chest.  "He will use me to break them."

Bard let go the god's ruined arm, gripping his face to force his head up.  Thranduil's gaze was muddy but he held Bard's.  The dark streaks of his blood stood out stark on pale skin.

"Thranduil, what happened?"

"The ring," he slurred.  "It called me.  I . . . went.  It would not hold."  He swallowed, sagging in Bard's hands.  "I . . . fought.  I . . . fled."  A shaking breath.  "He knew the brand.  He took that first."

"How?" Bard asked.

"The ring.  It . . . he has warped it.  Paired it with a fell ring.  It is no longer Galadriel's gem."  His gaze drifted to his shredded arm.  "It was not a pain I had expected."  A faint smile.  "I have given . . . too little credit to mortals and their thresholds."

That explained why Thranduil couldn't take his pain any longer.  But why all this?  Why would Thranduil give Denethor any advantage?

"You aren't making sense, you bloody god!" Bard snapped.  He shook Thranduil as hard as he dared, watching in fear as the eyes fluttered again.  "Thranduil," he pleaded.

He heard the clatter of rock behind him and whipped his head back to see Thorin and Bilbo, the latter clutching his elbow, blood across his forehead.  Relief welled up and he choked, thankful to finally received one good turn.

"I . . . cannot feel . . . the world.  That heartbeat that I have known . . . it is gone."  Another shuddering gasp.  Bard turned back to Thranduil in time to see the god peer up at him, face white as bone.  "I can . . . only feel . . . you."  He slumped forward, collapsing against Bard.

"Thranduil!"

[larkiethings]

Part 1

(remember when I said I'd been writing a thing that I could post? remember how I didn't post it? well now I am. yay. I don't think much background is really required, but if you're curious you can ask and I'll tell you.) [Part 1] [Part 2] [Part 3]

Jane was cold, and dog tired, but at least the throbbing in her ankle had gone down.

Finally she saw a small light, and tried to speed up. She had reached a shambling run by the time she got there, and circled the place until she found a door. She pulled it open - at least it was unlocked - and stumbled inside. That was when she froze solid.

The room was spattered in blood, and glassy blue eyes stared up at her. Elizabeth’s mouth was slightly open, her face mostly free of the gore, but her head was completely detached from her shoulders. A black sludge mingled with the bright red blood, and the little gremlin eating from what appeared to be Alaric’s chest and stomach looked up and bared its teeth. They were all over, feasting on her friends, and Jane knew she only had a split second to save herself but the second she took a step her ankle finally collapsed and she crashed hard onto the ground.

It was falling that woke her up. She was covered in sweat, and panting, and shaking, and now her wrist hurt - she must have landed on it awkwardly. But she was in her tiny bunk in the dormitory, not on that godforsaken planet. No wonder they hadn’t been able to contact anybody, the settlers were all dead - killed by the nasty little things that they’d barely escaped from. But they had escaped, they’d gotten out into the freezing night and had made it out of there with only minor injuries.

Jane sat up and rubbed her wrist, looking around. There was only one other person in the bunk, a rookie named Angel who was huge and muscular and quiet - and Angel was staring at her.

“What?” Jane mumbled, pushing herself up to a stand.

“Are you okay?” Angel asked. Her voice was deep, but she didn’t look threatening. To be honest, she would probably get along with Elizabeth - she was sweet enough.

“Yeah. I’m fine.” She needed air, fresh air to chase the nightmare away. Jane turned on the light, shielding her eyes from it, so she could find her boots.

“You sounded pretty upset.”

Jane froze, looking up at Angel again. “I was talking?”

The hulk of a woman shrugged. “Mumbling. I couldn’t really hear what you were saying. You were loud enough to wake me up though.”

Jane brushed some hair out of her face, though the cooling sweat on her forehead kept some strands trapped there. “I’m sorry.” Had she been talking before?

“I don’t mind, I just...wonder if you should talk to someone.”

Jane did kind of want to talk to someone, but nobody here. She found her boots and slid them on, grabbing a jacket as well. “Nah, I’m good. Going for a walk.” She left the barracks, pulling the jacket on over her pajamas.

Most of the soldiers here were out on a mission, so the base was mostly deserted, and Jane could easily avoid the other people who had stayed behind to guard. Guard duty wasn’t exactly interesting, but it was a chance for her to rest without having to actually go on leave, so Jane didn’t complain much. Nobody was using the long distance communicators, the ones that could go interplanetary without a ridiculous fine. Jane closed herself in one of the little cubicles and took a deep breath before she touched the screen and started it up, dialing in her home address.

It rang, and rang, and just when Jane was losing hope that anyone would pick up, the dark loading screen was replaced with Elizabeth’s face. She was smiling, her eyes bright, nothing like the nightmare. “Jane! This is unexpected, what’s the occasion?”

Jane couldn’t help but smile a little bit. “I couldn’t sleep. Probably because I’m on guard duty when everyone else is out doing things, so I’m also bored as hell. How are you?”

Elizabeth looked kind of tired, but she just shrugged and grinned. “Fine. Things are quiet around here, as usual. How are you, apart from bored as hell?”

Jane glanced at what time it was back home, but it was the middle of the afternoon - no reason for Elizabeth to look so tired. Huh. “I’m alright.”

They talked for two hours, finally stopping when Jane almost fell asleep against the cubicle wall while Elizabeth told her about the hike she’d gone on the week before. It felt like resurfacing from the bath, when Jane got the chance to take one. She liked sliding under the water, to hide from the world, but when she came up again the world was still there, and Jane didn’t really feel any better - just more tired.

Angel was still there when she got back, but she seemed to be asleep. So Jane slid out of her boots, dropped her jacket on top of them, and lay back down. She stared at the bunk above her, tracing as many details as she could see with her eyes in the dark, and didn’t sleep again that night.

This wasn’t the first time she’d had nightmares, and it wasn’t the worst, but usually calling Elizabeth or Alaric made her feel better. Alaric was out of reach at the moment though, out where even the long distance communicators couldn’t reach him reliably. He’d joined an exploration crew and worked as a sort of ambassador as well, so he was out of reach a lot. Jane didn’t really mind - she was doing a lot of the same thing, only with the military, and was out of touch just about as much.

Today though she didn’t feel better. Something about Elizabeth was bothering her, there was something a little...off. And the lack of sleep for the rest of the night didn’t help either. Angel wasn’t saying anything, at least.

The day started out monotonous, and Jane felt the dream fade into the background as she went through the motions. But at lunch she decided to take a quick power nap - not really sleeping, but she rested her chin in her hand and closed her eyes.

Jane was faster than the others, her military training benefitting her more than Elizabeth’s higher education or Alaric’s night vision. She could hear them catching up, and as she turned around she saw something land on Elizabeth’s back. Elizabeth went down. Jane turned and started heading back, but blood was already staining her friend’s dress. Alaric was shouting something, and then something hit him. Jane watched the life in his eyes fade even before he started to fall. She opened her mouth to…

“Jane!” It was Angel, but the others were staring at her too, and Jane looked around, panicking. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, had she screamed?

She got up without saying anything to anyone and left the room.

It was hard. It had never really been easy. Jane had never liked staying still, but after living on the move for months, just looking for a place where they could feel safe and get help, she couldn’t handle being in one place for more than a week at a time. And they all got nightmares. She’d woken up to Elizabeth’s screams more than once, and had to shake Alaric awake because he was curled up tight and all his muscles were tense and that was going to hurt like hell the next day. And she was no exception, of course, but she could usually shake the nightmares. Sometimes she’d had to.

And she’d been good at it. Good enough to get back into the military after just a short enough time for Elizabeth to publish her diary and have it be an almost instant bestseller, enough time for them to get a house and settle down. And then she’d been gone again, running to keep herself sane. This had worked, it really did, but now everything was catching up with her again and she didn’t know how to make it better.

Jane walked until Angel caught up with her. Neither of them said anything. Jane was tense enough that she’d probably have punched someone who tried to ask what was wrong. Angel worked as a rudder, gradually steering Jane to the medical bay. There Jane’s shoulders sagged, but she straightened herself up before walking in.

She let Angel explain about the dreams, the one from the night before and the one that had gotten to her, half-asleep at lunch. Then Angel left, and Jane had to talk to the doctor. He was a nice guy, had patched her up on multiple occasions, and he seemed surprised to hear that she was there for some reason other than the fact that she’d provoked someone into a fight again, or that she’d taken the fall for someone else and dislocated her shoulder.

His words floated through her mind without staying. Jane responded to them distantly, but she didn’t bother hiding the fact that this was a serious problem. After waking up screaming in the cafeteria, they’d probably find something to give her leave on anyway, so she might as well tell them the truth. She wasn’t surprised to hear that it “sounded like PTSD” and he’d “have to submit a report to see what was gonna happen” but until then she “should probably stay at the base”. She left to go and pack her bags, because she might as well be prepared.

The official decision only took a couple days, right before the mission came back. Jane was happy with that. At least she'd be gone by the time the others got back. She was going to be on leave until further notice, for time to recover. She was an excellent soldier, and if they needed her back for any reason, they’d have her do another evaluation to make sure she’d be okay, but for now…

Jane went to get her bags and wait for transport. She was going home - whether she wanted to or not.