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B2MeM 2011: Haradhrim Nights  by Mirach

Day 2:

Challenge - Losgar: Defiance is defined as the willingness to contend or fight. Write a story or poem or create artwork where the characters defy authority in some way.


Beautiful Death

The light of receding moon glistened on the blade of a dagger.

A slim figure crossed the street like a black cat and merged with the shadows, a shadow herself. The white of her teeth flashed for a moment as she remembered the tales of a black cat crossing the street bringing bad luck. Bad luck equalled death when dealing with this cat…

She found him at the border of the desert. He was leaning on a stone and looking at the stars. Her lips curled in a slight smile. She knew how the night sky here can absorb a man if he is not careful – it was so easy to become lost in the mysterious depths between the stars and forget the outside world. He will never know how he became lost in it forever when death covers him with her wing. It will be a beautiful death…

She moved with the silent grace of a predator, as quiet as the warm desert breeze. She was right behind him. Just one step divided them. One thrust of a dagger. He didn't know about her. He never will.

"Arwen…" he whispered, a barely audible sigh from his lips. It sounded like a name of a woman…

She stopped the hand with the dagger for a short moment. Who was she?, she wondered. When she danced, she knew he wanted her. She saw it in his eyes. But he left, and made her task harder. She was paid to kill this man, this stranger from the North. Seduce him, take him to her room, and give him a beautiful death. But he resisted her charm, and she wondered why. Who was the other woman that he loved her so?

She hesitated for too long. She made no sound, but with some warrior instinct, he realized her presence, and turned sharply… to face the deadly point of the dagger directed at his heart that had place only for one woman.

His eyes meet hers. He recognized her even under the black hood – the slight scent of cinnamon and jasmine, the burning coals of eyes. She only had to press the dagger, and the fire in his eyes would be extinguished forever.

But she didn't do it. She looked into his eyes, and suddenly wondered how it would feel, to know such love like he felt to the unknown woman. How would it feel to be on her place… For the first time in her life, she defied her orders, and lowered the dagger.

"Return to her…" she whispered, and in the next moment, only the gust of wind remained on the place where she stood, the scent of cinnamon and jasmine dissolving in the darkness of the night.





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