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#they likely met during Lothrandir's previous travels through Dunland but idk much more than that
a-lonely-dunedain · 10 months
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23 with Margim and Celeair?
ok sorry my brain was fried for the last few days BUT i finally was able to Do Something with this one!
this is the "Fun" Celeair Goes to Isengard AU, where Margim has to go undercover in her old Mordor armor to try to rescue him. still not 100% sure where I want to go with this one, but Lothrandir is involved and we might get to see him and Margim being friends at some point maybe if I ever write anything else here.
“Did they hurt you?” My question was redundant, the answer is clear enough just from the sight of him. None of his wounds seemed grievous, but the sight of blood and bruises on him told me he had been beaten cruelly before I found him. There is fury welling up in my heart at the thought.
Celeair does not know how to fight, he is a staunch pacifist and I know he would not so much as raise a hand against anyone –even men and uruks as evil as these– so any injury he received from them would have been nothing but cruelty for cruelty’s sake. This place is much too akin to Mordor.
“A bit… I do not think anything is broken, at least.” I suppose that is technically good news, though it is of little comfort to me. “I did not fight back, so they had little reason to hurt me… though, evidently, they did not need much reason.” he adds quietly, looking down at the bruises on his arm. I quickly glance around to make sure we are still alone. The guards have not returned yet. I produce a small bundle of food that I had managed to smuggle out of the guard house, and quickly pass it through the bars to Celeair.
“I cannot stay long,” I whisper, “it’s too risky to be seen speaking to you. But I will find a way to get you out of here, I swear it.” This is not the first time I have made such an oath to him, but I pray it will be the last. Celeair simply nods at me, no trace of doubt in his eyes. I wish the same could be said of mine.
“I suppose we’re lucky you still held onto that armor, I did not think you would have any further use for it.” he observes, ever the optimist.
“We would be luckier still if I never had a reason to don it again…” I mutter solemnly. Just then I hear heavy footsteps coming from further down in the cells, one of the uruk guards is heading this way. “Someone is coming,” I whisper quickly, reaching into the cell and holding his hand for the briefest moment, “I must leave for now, but I will be back as soon as I can.” I feel a light squeeze on my hand from him before I let go. 
I walk away, swiftly as I can without seeming suspicious, fighting the urge to look back at Celeair. 
As I exit the dungeons, head down and hood drawn, I consider my next move.
I heard some other prisoners escaped only a few days ago. That is both good news and bad news at the same time. Good news, for it proves that escape is possible, and that the eyes of the Wizard do not even see the entirety of his domain. But bad news, as it means whatever gap in the ring’s defenses they exploited has surely been filled by now and I will have to make my own. The task will only be made more difficult by the heightened security following the escape, but I do not have time to wait for it to die down. Or more importantly, Celeair does not have time. 
He will not last long here, and I have no doubt that the wardens intend to work him to death. 
I might need to throw around my weight as ‘Emissary of Mordor’ a little to see if I can get him a lighter workload. It would be a risky move, as I must avoid drawing too much attention to myself or else someone might start asking questions and realize I'm not a real emissary at all, but I need to buy us a little more time. There are few here who would be bold enough to question the authority of a Black-Númenorean –how I detest using that title– but even one person discovering the ruse would spell doom for both of us.
This whole situation is all too familiar in all the worst ways.
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