“Happy am I to let you wait, ignorant and cold, with your ass in the sod, Master of Fate."
The note, scrawled on dried skin, is delivered from the hand of a scrawny young waif with freckled skin and short-cropped hair the color of fox fur."I was bidden give this to you upon a red hill, Lord Turambar. I could not refuse,” they said, with something crooked in the tilt of their mouth.
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Raza gave a broken yelp as all the air left their lungs, tugged backwards by four strong arms backed by vicious intent.
“WHAT?” Their pale legs left the ground as they were lifted, kicking and failing, by two of the larger bandits. “GET OFF, YOU—!! DON’T. TOUCH. ME! FILTH! PISSANTS! HOW DARE YOU?"
The squalling creature was subdued at the cost of a few bruises and one bloody bite-wound, but was soon held in place, head pulled back by the hair, forcing them to look directly into the eyes of the outlaw leader, whose flint-hard eyes bore down on them like Death itself.
Raza’s narrow chest heaved and quivered; at first it seemed, of course, from terror, and then—
Laughter burst out of them; loud, unrestrained cackling that brought a bright flush to their dappled cheeks.
"Incredible! I didn’t think you’d actually dare!"
Túrin’s lip curled, though whether in amusement or disgust it was impossible to tell. At his shoulder, Andróg was grinning with savage, wolfish expectancy. The others shuddered at the eerie laughter, but held fast. They had seen worse than this – and so far as dangers went, they saw no reason to believe Raza anything more than some half-mad traitor, or else some other unholy offspring of Angband’s pits that would be disposed of as easily as any of the orcs they dealt with daily.
Túrin held his chilly silence for several long minutes. Better to let the wretch understand their situation thoroughly rather than waste time riling them up. Then, at last, he exhaled slowly, and asked again:
"Who are you?”
The men who held Raza by the arms suddenly flinched and cried out in distress: something had twisted beneath the flesh their captive, undulating like a snake working to free itself from an old skin. To the bandits’ credit, they maintained their grip.
Raza’s head drooped for an instant, gritting their crooked teeth with some internal effort.
“I am…” they rasped, a small, bitten-back noise escaping their throat before they could catch their breath. “Ahaha… I am running out of time, is what I am…” They laughed, gnawing their bottom lip, then added just under their breath, “This used to be… so much easier."
When they raised their eyes again to meet Turin’s, the color and shape of them had changed– but only for the space of a blink. "Call me… a friend of the family, so to speak."
MisbehavingMaiar: Tumblr Archive 