Post by FINARFIN . on Dec 3, 2012 14:06:04 GMT -8
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[atrb=border,0,true] | [atrb=border,0,true] the sanctuary was a dark place. for someone like finarfin, who had grown up practically in the woods, it was hell. he'd never coped well with enclosed spaces, and the dark brotherhood's base camp was severely testing his limits. more than anything, he wanted to escape, to breathe fresh air, but that was impossible. he didn't think his new family would take to him wandering around outside very well. fin was still learning the ropes, trying not to blunder so much that the brotherhood decided he was more useful to them dead than alive. so far, he figured he was doing well. he took naturally to a blade, although he'd been wielding an axe since he was strong enough to swing it. swords and daggers weren't too different, really. fin had to adjust his swing, so rather than chopping at the dummy's, he was swinging and slicing. truthfully, he still preferred an axe, but what kind of assassin wielded a woodcutter's axe? none that fin had heard of. it must have been the middle of the night when fin woke himself up. his dreams had been dark since arriving at the sanctuary, images of his brother's bloody and mangled corpse fresh in his mind from the nightmares. the worst part of all was his brother's eyes. they always looked so accusing, as if it was finarfin's fault he hadn't been able to save him. "it wasn't me," fin always shouted at him, but his brother's gaze never shifted. it was impossible to run, fin was always grounded to the spot. but oh, how he wanted to. even now, sweat glistened on his forehead. before getting changed, he wiped it hurriedly, hating how it made him feel so clammy. like, death. once he felt semi-normal, he donned his armor, and grabbed his blade from their resting place beside his bed. training in the middle of the night wasn't advisable, considering how tired finarfin felt, but he needed it. there was no way he'd be getting anymore sleep tonight. making his way down to the central hall was easy, his footfalls purposefully light so as not to wake anyone up. once he'd reached the training area, he drew his sword, admiring it in the low light. slowly, he raised his eyes to the dummy in front of him. in the dimness, it wasn't hard to picture it being a person. a rather deformed being, perhaps, but a person, nonetheless. slowly, fin lifted his sword, swinging it to hit the dummy's chest. the straw held out, since fin hadn't put any real power behind it, but suddenly, finarfin wanted to cause some real damage. swinging the blade again, he hit the dummy's other side, smirking satisfactorily as pieces of straw drifted down to the floor. and before he knew it, he went into a frenzy. he wasn't sure how often he hit the dummy, but his blade was like a blur. again and again, the satisfying noise of the blade hitting straw met his ears, until the dummy was hanging off the wooden support rather pathetically. but fin still didn't relent. only when he'd hacked off the straw dummy completely, and his sword rang when it connected with the stone wall behind it did fin break out of his craze. and then he realized he was weeping. hurriedly, he wiped his cheeks dry, and leaned forward so the wooden support was holding the majority of his weight. he felt exhausted, his breathing heavy and his arm aching. slowly, he turned and slumped against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on his haunches, sword still in hand as he wrapped his arms around his legs. now that he'd worked out most of the anger he had inside him, all he wanted to do was run back home. but he couldn't do that. why did everything seem so hopeless? |
I'LL BITE THE BULLET JUST TO SAVE MYSELF