In sorrow his name she whispered

[ALATARIEL TEMPTEST RIEU]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]1790 WORDS FOR JERICHO Well I hope you like this. This is the first time in months I have done a werewolf thread, since the last site I was on. Only done wolves in a while so I am a bit rusty. Hope you like this and my next post shall be better as I get to know Alatariel more. If you want me to change anything do tell. This is the link to her clothes here DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]Like all fairy tale stories there is a prince, a princess, and a happily ever after. Romance is always the case here and the good win while the evil are defeated and chased away. Yet has anyone ever stopped to wonder if maybe the evil had a reason for doing what they did? Did anyone stop and think maybe the evil wasn't as evil as people thought but someone just getting revenge, or justice for a injustice done to themselves. No? Then you are a fool to not see these things. For even if you believe someone is evil for doing something bad in your eyes, you don't know the whole story. You only know what your eyes have told you and not the reality of what actually has happened. Like a fairy tale, you want to rescue the damsel in distress and you do so, becoming the knight in shining armor but what if you rescued the wrong maiden? What if you defeated the person who was the true maiden? Then again, maybe you are the maiden looking for a knight in shining armor...only to realize the no one wants to be your knight because you are not beautiful, as lovely, or appeal to them for being a damsel in distress. Instead you appear as someone who is weak and worthless, not worth the energy to spend so they turn their back on you to find someone else to rescue, someone who is worthy in your eyes. There are many like that, damsels in distress who are shunned because of their looks or because of who they are while there are knights shunned because they are not handsome or rich. It makes one wonder if there is any truth in the fairy tales that spring from the lips of humans. A young woman wondered this as she stood silently beside a dusty window, gazing at the moon that set proudly in the darkness of the sky. A cool wind danced across the sky, bringing with it some relief from the warmth of a summer night that brought sweat from the pores of being and causing throats to dry and the need for cold water to rise but beings only found warm water that did not bring relief. The wind tried to do it's job, bringing chill to the beings and causing flesh to shudder in relief and because of the cold digging frigid fingers in tense muscles. The trees standing proud and elegant shifted to and fro on the wind, mighty branches dancing to and fro as leaves begin to fall one by one as autumn came closer and ever near. Wild life did not cease because the night was warm, instead it went on as usual the prey running from the predators while searching for food to consume before returning to their burrows to sleep through the day before night came again. For the beings that did not slumber during the night slumbered during the day, or did you not realize this? The few day creatures that were awake was the handful of deer who munched lazily on grass and a scattering of smaller prey who did not wish to stop the gathering of food or return to homes where duties called for some with families. The inky shadows watched every living being with brooding eyes, while keeping a distance from the rays of the moon, the moonlight forever its opponent and competitor. For the shadows brought misery and pain while the moonlight brought joy and hope. As the wind danced across the forest, it froze for a moment. The winds fingers had come in contact with something different, something that was not the tall trees or the flesh of the forest creatures. Moving forth, the wind peered forth with curiosity. After a few minutes, the wind reached a clearing and that is when the wind saw it. Nestled snugly against the forest, was a small cottage. Made of some white stone, the house was smoothly and elegantly crafted in a rectangular shape with a delicate roof and a small chimney which smoke curled from slowly. The windows were clean but closed with a dark hued curtain pulled over to keep anyone from peering in. The cottage had a wrap around porch of amber wood that was old but nicely furnished. The wind pushed through the small opening under the door and looked around the furnished home of the being who lived here. The house was aglow faintly, everything furnished to scream comfort yet was also worn from use. There was no sound from the household beside the crackling of fire until the sound thud of something falling in the kitchen was heard. The wind moved forth slowly, peering through the doorway to the young woman who stood inside the kitchen. The wind tilted its head once before plowing across the females frame then disappearing into thin...well air. The young woman jerked her head up, looking around frantically but she saw nothing. A sigh of relief and a strained chuckle escaped her lips. The woman was tall, around five foot nine inches but thin, immensely so that anyone would worry when they glanced at her. Yet even though the female was thin, she had curves rounded softly and pale, creamy complexion of soft skin that gave her some points in the look department. A thick, satiny mane of molten gold tresses was loosely framing a heart-shaped face. Slim eyebrows were furrowed in a frown, thick lashes of honey gold flickered down slightly to hide the eyes of amber gold flecked with blue and green. Soft, rosy red lips were pressed together in a harsh line. The thin frame was enclosed in a gray tank top, wool cardigan, some pajama bottoms and a scattering of jewelry but that was it. Even though it was cold, the flesh of the female was warm and toasty. Why? Because this was no human, but a young adult werewolf. Even though she was sick, the young females temperature staid the same to keep her warm on this chilly night, using whatever it could to fuel the heat, which was sadly any fat that sat upon her bones which is why she looked so frail instead of the sleek she-wolf she was supposed to be. The scars that lined her arms, her throat, and the jagged scar that started at her left eyebrow and ended at her lip all gave hints to abuse, as well as the still healing bruises hidden under her clothes. Peering around herself, the young woman finally gave up on her search for whatever had startled her. Moving slowly, wincing from the pain on her ribs, she grabbed the pan filled with boiling milk and took it off the burner. Switching off said burner, the woman then turned and poured the milk inside the cup that had been set out. Once she had all the milk out, the pan was placed inside the sink. Wrapping her fingers around the cup, the woman brought the cup over to a small glass tub. Dipping in her spoon, she scooped up some coco powder and gently stirred it into the milk. Thrice she did this before she was satisfied. A small, sad smile tugging on her lips the woman turned and gracefully walked across the kitchen, out the door and into the only room with a fire. Once there, she situated herself on the couch, folding her legs beneath herself. Lashes lowered as she took a sip of the foamy milk, a soft sigh of contentment escaping her lips. In this room, this small space, the woman felt at peace. Felt that no one could hurt her like so many had before. This place she could relax and not worry about someone coming up behind her, yanking on her hair and causing her harm. At this moment, she could peacefully sit down and sip her coco without a care in the world. Turning her head, she placed her cup upon the oak table in front of her. Gently, she grabbed the old stuffed animal in the shape of a husky and pressed it against her chest. Her eyes closed as she breathed in the scent on the animals fur and a memory resurfaced "Hey! No fair your taller then me!" a younger Alatariel pouted, glaring at her older twin who smiled at her in a teasing manner and held up the stuffed dog, far out of reach of his sister. He didn't notice the evil glint in her eyes before she stomped her foot on his toes and elbowed him in his stomach. With his breath rushing out of him and his foot hurting, he dropped his hands. Instantly Alatariel grabbed the dog and took off running. "That's cheating!" he yelled after his younger sister, who ignored him as she moved through the people walking across the fair ground. Hiding behind a tent, she snuggled deeper into the soft fur and mumbled into the soft fur "Its ok Shasta, he can't get you now..." the memory ended with silent tears rolling down the fragile womans, Alatariel, cheeks. It had been a while since she could remember anything about her past, after the many beatings which had taken much of her memory from her. Now you wonder how she could have her stuffed animal from before? Well, the stuffed animal wasn't the same one she had won, but one she had purchased recently from the store. Something had urged her to get it and now she knew why. Sighing, the young and broken woman snuggled deeper into the stuffed animal. Her empty eyes stared into the flames as she wondered what she was going to do now. For her tormentors, the people who had imprisoned and tortured her for six years, were dead. What was she going to do now? Alatariel had no clue. Just recently she had left to the town to find a job to support herself. Having not left her home in six years, she had been weary of the world at first and still was. She didn't trust humans or werewolves. She would never go near the packs, who didn't even know she existed or the rouges who were as clueless as the packs that she had been turned or was even living here. Or so Alatariel hoped. She didn't know if her tormentors had friends or had blabbed about having a captive she - wolf with them. This not knowing made her afraid but she could do nothing about it. Now that she had walked out of her home and led a scent trail, all she could do was ponder when the wolves would descend on her.... [/style]

TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

[WICKED]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #78816a solid; border-bottom: 10px #78816a solid;] I rambled with the worst of them... Fell in love with the harlequin Words: 1,230 || Tagged: ALATARIEL RIEU || Status: Complete Everything has been a bit rough around here the past year. There are Rogue werewolves out there that are after my brother, Truth, and me for killing the Kinbok Alpha. For some reason they feel that we were better off with him around. Why, I’ll never know. He was just another tyrant that wanted perfection and wanted to kill what he couldn’t have. What he couldn’t have was Truth and me. He hated us for it. Either he was going to have us or no one was. He had been after us for years, always trying to con us into joining Kinbok. I sure as hell would never join a pack, and I’m fairly certain that Truth wouldn’t either. I refuse to be bossed around and made to crawl around on my belly, always in a constant submissive position. There is also the fact I don’t do well following rules and obeying orders… they never go over well with Alphas. So… right… Things not going so well at the moment; Truth and me have not only the Kinbok after our heads for killing their beloved Alpha, but also the usual Vokul who wants us to join their ranks, but the hunters and their government that want us dead. Someone else in our situation may see it has we have signed our death warrants, but me? This is just another piece to the puzzle, just a huge plot twist in the story. The mundane make life boring. Who wants go around playing it safe and never sticking their neck out for anything or anyone? It may have not been for one person that we killed the Kinbok Alpha for, but the whole. Matthew was just another bully who met his match with two bigger and bader werewolves than he. As skilled as us two brothers are in our profession of weaponry, traps, and fighting, we don’t go around killing just anyone. Matthew should feel privileged in those last few moments of his life that we killed him. But… there is also the fact that no one really knows that we did kill him, it is just a rumor right now on who did the killing. Hell, I’m more than happy to take the credit for it. Bring it on bitches, what are you going to do about it that I killed your Alpha? Send more of your weak little lap dogs after me? I killed your Alpha, the werewolf that was supposed to be the best of your entire pack, the rest of Kinbok will be cake. I want more than anything than to go after both of the pack head on, brute strength; Truth and me against them all. He’s no fun though; he feels that we should take a more indirect approach to it. It’s not nearly as fun but I guess I can see his reasoning to it though. All of this sitting around and waiting is getting to me though, I’m restless with boredom. No one has been out and about trying to kill me lately, which in all honesty makes me depressed. Without Matthew around always chasing our tails I’m left with nothing to do than bother Truth and I feel that if I do much more of that he’s going to start taking swings at me, that is one thing I’d rather avoid. He cheats, he’ll deny it but I know he does. Here I am, out in the middle of the South Woods to get out for a bit and to give Truth a bit of space so he doesn’t clobber me a good one. Also there was another reason for me being out here. I heard some rumors, I don’t know if they are true or not but I didn’t like what I had heard. The rumor mill is spitting out that there was a band of werewolves that had gone around torturing people, particularly a woman that hasn’t been seen or heard of since their recent death. This was the first I’ve heard of this situation. The thought that someone could torture someone just for the fun of it made me bristle. Bullies, I can’t... They… I want more than to kill them all. If they need to pick fights then they need to find someone their own size and pick at them, not a woman and keep her locked up for years. I wish I had heard of this situation sooner than after the fact. Well worn boots moved rather quietly through the underbrush of the woods, only a rustle of decaying leaves scattered over the ground, a soft brush of ferns brushing against my pants legs. It would have been much easier to navigate these woods as a wolf but I wasn’t too fond of carrying clothes around in my jaws or walking round naked if I needed to shift back to human. Shifting is such a pain in the ass sometimes. Green eyes were on a constant sweep of the surrounding woods as I walked quietly, slipping between the trees like a ghost. Though it was dark I was able to move easily through the trees and dense underbrush, there are some perks of being a werewolf. I came up to a short stop when I entered a small clearing with a small little house at its heart. Windows were aglow with a soft light; smoke was billowing out of the chimney. Someone surely lived here, but was this the house that was rumored to hold the band of Rogue werewolves that went around torturing people? That was something I wanted to know. My right hand lifted to scratch at the little bit of scruff along my jaw. Now the question was if I wanted to go with the brash choice of going right up to the door, the problem with that choice is that I don’t know what is on the other side of the door. I could be met with a silver bullet in the brain, just a little something that I would like to avoid at the current point in time. Or I could just stalk around the house until whoever was in there came out here. This, I think was the smarter choice. Truth would be proud that I wasn’t going to be stupid and march right up to the door, had he been here with me that would be exactly what I’d do, just to get him going. Stealthily I stepped deeper into the little clearing around the house. Boots no longer making a crunching sound as leaves were no longer underfoot, leaves were replaced with lush grass. With smooth movements of liquid grace I eased myself closer to the house. Staying a rather safe distance from the house I circled around it, trying to look in any windows to see the interior or who was residing within. It seemed that there were heavy curtains on all the windows, making it impossible for me to see inside. Brilliant green eyes were locked on the front door as I eased up the front steps, placing my weight carefully. I winced a little as the wood floor boards creaked as I stepped on it, I had almost made it onto the porch without a sound, but the last step gave me away. I held my breath, listening carefully for any sounds of movement within the home. Clothes: Dark green t-shirt, faded slim fitting jeans, && a pair of older than dirt boots [/style] Saw the darkest hearts of men...

[ALATARIEL TEMPTEST RIEU]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]1389 WORDS FOR JERICHO Another crappy post but I am trying. >3 Hope you like it and hope it gave you something to work with. DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]Holding the dog against her chest with one hand, Alatariel used the other to grab a hold of her coco mug. Taking another sip of the hot mixture, she closed her eyes for a moment, savoring the sweet chocolate flavor that burst upon her tongue. This was the first time she had had the creamy liquid since her capture and she could not help but linger over the tastes, letting herself reacquaint herself with the familiar texture and the heady smell that was already curling itself in her nostrils to settle warm and snug against her brain. Her lips twitched slightly, tongue slipped free of her mouth to lick the foam from her lips before once more slipping inside her mouth as she took another sip of the hot liquid, feeling said liquid tingle against her throat and causing her empty stomach to warm in contentment. A soft sigh escaped her lips, one of peace and happiness. A sigh that she had not let burst free of her soul in what seemed like forever to the young woman. Opening her eyes, lashes fluttering Alatariel peered around the room, sensing something but then she shrugged it off as memories just trying to sneak up on her and try to drive her deeper in the brink of despair and madness that had tried to claim her many times after the brutal death of her captors. Already Alatariel could feel the memories rising, pushing against her brain to be set free and torment her with every scream, every plead, every sound that had haunted her dreams and shattered her soul piece by piece as she huddled in the hellhole that she had learned to call home after finally conceding that she would never be free again. Yet now she was free but didn’t have a clue what to do with this new sense of freedom. Curling herself deeper into the pillows of the couch, she brought the dog closer to her face and let herself fall into a dreamlike daze. Her eyelashes lowered to hide the rich amber eyes that were glazed and already filling themselves with the scarce memories of the past. Scattered pieces of her childhood and the twin who she had adored before her capture. The memories were rare and far in between, but she savored what memories she had. Even though she was broken, and most likely always would be, Alatariel still saw some light in this world. She saw that she should be thankful that she could recall her brother at all, even thankful of living when other beings would have perished under the constant strain of being nothing more than a servant to six perverted young males who had no trouble hurting her physically and mentally. Sick young males they had been who had gotten away with the crime of hurting a female. Alatariel thought that werewolves allowed this….this injustice massacre of the soul and spirit of another werewolf. She thought that other werewolves pack and rouge alike, knew what was happening to her but chose to turn a blind eye on her and her pleas for help. That was one of the main reasons why she refused to even try to attempt to scent out other werewolves, beside the fact that she was petrified of being in large number of people or even in the immediate area of anything male. How could Alatariel live her life when she was scared of everything? Honestly, she didn’t have a clue but the young woman was trying her best. Doing everything in her power to live a normal life even though her situation had been anything but normal. A girl had to do what a girl had to do. Just as she was about to fall asleep, Alatariel’s nose picked up the stench of another werewolf in the area and male who was drawing closer to her home. Standing up swiftly, the young woman placed her cup on the table and dropped the stuffed animal on the couch. Shifting from one foot to the other, fear permeated her scent so she was coated in the sickly sour stench. Her pupils dilated, the black almost completely covering every inch of the amber in her eyes as she trembled. The logic in her brain told her to run, to get as far away from the male and the danger he presented as fast as possible. The weak side said this, slowly coaxing her and causing Alatariel to step in the direction of the back door, slowly shaking from side to side in obvious fright of the being who had decided to pay her home a visit. Licking her lips nervously, she peered deep inside her soul, spotting the small flickers of old courage that told her to face her fears. Alatariel snapped away from the thought, wrapping her arms around her body as she stood silently in a almost indecisive mood. Flicking her gaze from door one to door two, she nervously chewed on her lip. What was she to do? Running triggered the wolf instinct to chase, and Alatariel was far from healthy in either forms. If she was to run now, she would be run to the ground and who knows what the male would do to her after she showed him fear, ran and he managed to capture her. IF she stood her ground somewhat, maybe she would be in a better position. Maybe he wouldn’t try to harm her like the others did, but that was a huge maybe. Should she take the chance…? After a few more minutes of debating, Alatariel finally squared her shoulders. Turning to the back door, she walked silently across the wooden floor, making sure not to step on any of the squeaky boards that she had memorized. Her ears had already caught the male’s mistake when he had stepped on a squeaky step out in the front. Alatariel would not make the same mistake as he had done. Slowly opening the door, glad she had remembered to oil the hinges, Alatariel peered around. Seeing that all was clear, she stepped silently on the porch. Her amber eyes took in everything of the night, before she turned and padded quietly across the wraparound porch, heading in the direction of the front porch. Standing on the far wall, she peered from the side of the building to the werewolf who was currently standing in front of her door. Her nostrils flared, taking in his scent to imprint it in her brain, wondering if he was either friend or foe. Everything inside her screamed that he was foe simply because he was male, but the old Alatariel wanted to do something strong for once in my life. Sadly the broken Alatariel won over, causing her to shake slightly in a brief flash of fear. Squaring her shoulders to the best of her ability, she calmed her breathing but could nothing to stop the fear oozing from her pores, almost wiping out the strawberry and cream that was her normal wolven scent. It was time for her to know what this intruder wanted….to hurt her like the others had done. It was certainly so, due to him being male and wolf but she would not go running. Not this time. Stepping out from the side of the building, she kept the distance between them. Dipping her head low, hiding her face behind her thick hair and pulling her cardigan closer to her almost like a shield, she whispered ”Who are you? What do you want?”

[/b] her lyrics were broken, filled with absolute despair and pain from many years of torture, but also a faint steel of resolve. Her eyes had been on the ground, in a submissive way but once they flickered up to meet his own amber clashing against green before they once more flickered to the ground. Without knowing she did so, Alatariel tilted her head in a submissive manner and seemed to fold within herself. If she had been a wolf, she would be cowering…now she would be on her back defenseless and whining in fear and begging to be spared. That was how much she was afraid of him. That was how far the rouges had broken her…poor Alatariel.

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TABLE BY CALIFORNIA DREAMING @ CAUTION 2.0

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[WICKED]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #78816a solid; border-bottom: 10px #78816a solid;] I rambled with the worst of them... Fell in love with the harlequin Words: 780 || Tagged: ALATARIEL RIEU || Status: Complete I held my spot on that squeaky step, willing myself to not move a single muscle, to not make another sound. Ears strained against the wind that whipped through the trees, listening to any little sound that could give me a hint if my presence was given away at this little house. All this wind had my teeth on edge; it made things so much harder to hear, it shifted smells so they weren’t were you actually thought they were, just made everything so much harder for someone who relies on their senses more than humans. Just as I had started to shift my weight she came into sight. Green eyes were trained on her, all my focus was with her. The look she gave me… it pained me. The way she presented herself so… submissive… She didn’t even know me; her eyes had only met mine for a flicker of a second and she deemed me dominant. Those brilliantly golden eyes so filled, so filled with so much fear and despair. Her reaction to me being here made my chest swell with regret of coming here, I should have quelled my curiosity and stayed home with Truth and took whatever he gave me, I can handle him. This… this I couldn’t handle. I’ve seen that posture before. I’ve seen that hopeless look in someone’s eyes. I hate it every time. There has been so man former Kinbok that have either turned Rogue or forced to the Rogue lands by their former Alpha Matthew. There hasn’t been so many Vokul since the pack hasn’t been around as long as Kinbok. All the time all the pain and torment of being forced into submission. They forget how to live, be what they are meant to be. We are wolves. Yes in some aspects there is a pecking order, but we are Rogue, we are our own masters. We are supposed to be able to make our own choice if we are going to be a dominant or submissive. This… there was no choice in it. In her, and every other werewolf that has presented themselves to me like this, are nothing but broken; broken in spirit and sometimes in the mind. I have helped Truth and other willing Rogue werewolves help these broken wolves come back to a shadow of their former selves, I do what I can but the most of it is up to the wolf. They need to want to be the way they used to be before they were so broken, without that will there is nothing to work with. Slowly, very slowly I eased myself away from her; each step taken with deliberate care to back down the steps the way I came. My hands rose, showing her my palms in the universal “I’m unarmed” surrender. I backed away still, moving so I was several feet away from the last step, giving her enough space so she wouldn’t feel that I was laying pressure onto her. My shoulders rounded a bit, I didn’t want to come off as anymore of a threat as I could manage, standing square alone presented dominance which I didn’t want to do. Bright green eyes remained on her, but soft and brimming with curiosity and mild hurt; again, hurt for her, not for myself. I dipped my head a little, looking up at her through a veil of full lashes. ”I’m sorry for intruding on you like this,” I said softly, in my deep tenor. A very slight smile, more of a smirk than a smile, tugged at the corner of my lips. ”My name is Wicked; I was just out for a walk in the woods and came across this place. I can go right back the way I came if you’d like…” I let the offer hang in the air as soft eyes continued to study her quietly. Slowly I lowered my hands, tucking them in the front pockets of my jeans, trying to come off as relaxed as I could muster. I had every emotion, mine and my wolves’ on lock down, only allowing peace and calm to radiate off of me. I have had plenty of practice at this between becoming a hostage of war and helping with abused werewolves heal. Softly I spoke to her again, ”and please, I’m your equal, there is no need to be submissive.” And trying to prove my point that I saw her as an equal I lowered and tipped my head just as she had. My eyes didn’t fall to the ground like hers, but I didn’t look at her face, more of anywhere around her but into her eyes. Clothes: Dark green t-shirt, faded slim fitting jeans, && a pair of older than dirt boots [/style] Saw the darkest hearts of men...

[ALATARIEL TEMPTEST RIEU]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]1403 WORDS FOR JERICHO 4:48 in the morning when I wrote this. Not the best, but I hope it can do >3 DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]They always hurt her. No matter how kind they acted, in the end they always caused her pain. She had to be weary of this male, to watch out for his tricks. He might try to be kind to her but that was all an act he was doing so she could lower her defenses then he would strike. He would bring out some weapon or use his own hands or body to cause agony to explode somewhere on her frame physically then taunt her, breaking her more in spirit with every laugh and word. How did she know this? Because that is what the rouges had done to her. One had specifically got her to trust him, to believe in him that he would never hurt her. She trusted him to protect her, to take her side against her brothers like he promised over and over again. Yet it was all a ploy. Slowly but surely he won her over, and the day she completely trusted him with her life, was the day he struck her down with his own two hands and cruelly described how he had played with her, messed with her heart and head just to see how weak and pathetic she was forever even thinking she was worthy enough for anyone’s kindness. He had told her she wasn’t worth anything but the pain and soon she began to believe him and what his pack mates had to say. She deserved the pain and the pain deserved her. That day was the day she had broken and Alatariel had never been the same. Don’t trust him…he will hurt us a voice whispered in her mind and Alatariel listened to it wearily, knowing from past experience that is spoke the truth. He would hurt them in some way or form. Like a wraith, she pulled herself even closer together, hiding all vital parts with her hands, elbows…anything just so that when he hurt her he wouldn’t kill her. Alatariel had just gotten her life back. She had just gotten her chance to be a normal woman, or as normal as she could be after suffering this abuse. She just wanted to be left alone, to be left in the shadows forgotten by the world. Forgotten and ignored, but allowed to do things that a normal person could do. Alatariel had missed so much, and truly she didn’t want to miss anymore. Yet would this male hurt her? Yes. Could he injure her enough to keep her from the real world? In this unhealthy state yes he could. Could it be a accident? Alatariel didn’t know. In the state of her health, the male could accidentally just grab her innocently, a small tightening of his hands around her fragile bones and they could crack and takes week to heal due to her healing ability not able to feed on anything. She needed energy, fats, and muscle….something for the healing ability to take from but there was nothing left on Alatariel but a few pieces of muscle, skin, and some pieces of fat to keep her from having complete abs on her stomach but otherwise she was nothing but skin and bones. It was sad really, but could expect her to be nice and plump after being starved for so long? No she didn’t think so. So again she wondered if this male would hurt her now with intent or just an innocent touch that could drive her to her knees, with tears down her eyes but never would she scream. Never would she degrade herself by screaming ever again. She had some pride left in this broken body. Eyes flickered upward as he moved, instantly watching everything just to make sure she didn’t have to jump back and finally make a run for her life. She tensed already on the poise to turn and dash into the forest to hide in whatever small hiding spots she could hide that the male could not reach without having to use brute strength or his wolf to get into. Ah this caused her to think once of her own majestic black form that had been her own wolf, but it had been months since she could last shift into the onyx wolf with white ears and silver kohl around the eyes. She felt saddened for a moment, before turning her attention to the male again. She watched him move backwards, away from her and giving her space. This caused some of the fear to leave her frame, some of the inward panic that had driven her to mindless shivering so now she stood a bit taller, and bit more confident in her own self but still only a tiny bit. Alatariel had a long way to go before she was anything near the woman she was supposed to be. Uncoiling herself from her own frame, she dropped her arms to her sides nervously, shifting slightly on the balls of her feet and lifting her head a bit, eyes now on him in a curious but still weary manner. What did he want? Why had he invaded her home? Was this some kind of game he was playing? She really needed to know these things but her mouth just wouldn’t open and her tongue wouldn’t pry itself free of the roof of her mouth. When he spoke, she froze and listened to him with her head tilted slightly to the side. Lips flicked upward in the barest manner at his name, showing some forgotten mischief that had plagued her like a disease in her human years. Yet as soon as the smile appeared on her lips it was again, as her mask once more placed itself over her features. So he had not meant to come near her home, instead he had just stumbled across it. This she did not fully trust, because not many every came in this direction or even found this meadow by accident as he claimed. Only once had another found this home by just wandering in the woods and the male had been killed by her rouge pack. Still, she wanted to finally trust in someone. She wanted finally to be able to depend on someone else beside herself. So wearily, she spoke ”I am Alatariel. Not many have ever stumbled across this clearing but even though everything screams against it, I will give you the benefit of doubt. I won’t tell you to leave, you are free to linger as much as you wish. Just….don’t hurt me…….please”

[/b] she whispered the last against her better wishes, shifting slightly again away from him. She just didn’t want to be hurt again. Was that so much to ask?

The more he relaxed himself, the more she relaxed herself in return. Soon she no longer stood on the balls of her feet before flat on the ground, whatever muscles she had at ease and frame loose instead of the tense statue she had been. She shook away her golden mane, so now it rolled down her back, and out of her face. When he spoke of them equals, and then even acted submissive to her she froze. Alatariel jerked her head up, her golden eyes latching on him in disbelief. Never had she been anyone’s equal. She had always be the omega, the weak one, the one everyone bullied because they could get away with it. Because it was their right. How could they ever be equals? ”Equals…..? Is there ever such a possibility for me? I am a omega, the one punching bag of my species. How could I ever be a equal of anyone? I am beneath every living wolf….never could I be equal…” she trailed off, hardly able to even accept the fact of being anyone’s equal. No…he was just trying to make her feel at ease. She would never be the equal…never be the same as anyone. Bringing up a hand to the jagged scar on her face, she murmured absently to herself Believe to be equal in the first year of my six years of torture got me this….and I know better now to believe to be equal.”[/b] Oh how broken was Alatariel was. What had they done to her....what had they done?


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[WICKED]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=style, width: 400px; background-color: #343434; padding:20px; border-top: 10px #78816a solid; border-bottom: 10px #78816a solid;] I know you've suffered... But I don't want you to hide Words: 1,425 || Tagged: ALATARIEL RIEU || Status: Complete I dared a glance to her face, a flicker of my green eyes against her golden. You could see in her eyes that she was curious about me, but there was that underlying glint of fear. I couldn’t help but wonder what could have been done to her to fear someone she hadn’t even met before, to show someone who has never showed her any ill will fear of them. It was quite obvious now that the rumor mill had been correct for once, and the one time I wished it hadn’t been true, it was. So badly I wanted to shelter her, save her from what demons must cloud her memory, but I know better than anyone that I bring hurt and devastation in my wake. If I was smart I would turn tail and run far, far away from this woman, to save her from myself. I cursed to myself, damning myself to hell for not being able to walk away. I was torn inside, torn because I didn’t want to cause this woman any more pain that she obviously has already endured. But I wouldn’t forgive myself if I just walked away without trying offer help to heal those deep wounds that the naked eye couldn’t see. She may not, but I have the hope that anyone who has been broken, no matter how badly can have some kind of a good life once again with just a little TLC. With the moral war raging inside of me my thoughts couldn’t help but to turn to the darker time of my own life of loves lost and battles waged. There can be a whole lot of hurt to experience in the time I’ve been alive, and thanks to the werewolf genetics I’m a whole hell of a lot older than I look. But a true gentleman never reveals his real age so you’ll just have to take a guess. My darkest days were when Truth and I had been separated for many months during a war. You know the saying “it’s better to have loved and lost than to have never loved at all”? Well it’s a grand sounding thing until you get to experience it firsthand. The hole in my heart still seems like a wide open festering sore some nights. No matter how many woman I take to bed can never come close to mending old wounds, no matter how I wish it so. Though we didn’t know each other long we fell completely and irrevocably head over heels for one another. Less than a year we spent together; she hiding me in her home while the war waged, I biding my time until I could play my cards right to inflict the largest amount of damage to the enemy while hopefully escaping at the same time with her. I can still feel the hot splash of her blood across my face, the sound of snarling wolves, her scream being cut short, the sharp blinding pain of my wolf being ripped from my flesh at the sudden rage pumping through my body. The scene played out in my mind; every painful memory at the forefront of my thoughts in vivid detail. Truth doesn’t even know what happened to me in those months. When we were finally reunited I kind of skimmed over the details, giving him only the basic information that he was required to know and I left it at that. There wasn’t much that I kept from my twin, but my love life, or lack of one since then, I keep to myself. He knows of my many one night stands or my flings that last a few weeks at best. He knows me as a player of sorts, unable to love anyone intimately. He doesn’t need to know about the pain that has wrecked havoc on me since then. It isn’t life threatening so it is just a private matter I’ll keep to myself. There was a soft voice that called me back from painful memories. Like a haze they clouded my thought process until I was fully aware of my surroundings. Again my gaze flicked to her, trying to catch her gaze. I had been so lost in my own thoughts that I had almost missed what she had said. Alatariel. That was her name. A soft smile washed across my features, she had at least enough trust in my to give me her name, that alone was an accomplishment. I have her a small nod, more like a bowing my head in respect to her, “it is very nice to meet you Alatarial.” A cheeky grin came across my features then, “well Alatariel, I’m not your run of the mill person, finding a little house in the middle of the woods was a simple task. Forget chance, I’m just lucky. Needle in a hay stack? Cake, I found it when I was five. I’ve moved on up to more challenging puzzles,” I teased lightly, chuckling softly. What my ears heard next caught me off guard, sobering my humor. A shiver of anger ran along my spine. Whatever had been done to this young woman that had her convinced that I’d hurt her? I mean I know I have a bit of a ruthless streak in me but that is always contained until I set it free. There are many dark parts of that threaten to consume me at the slightest hint of weakness, so I show none and give none. It isn’t a weakness of sorts but I do have a soft spot for someone in need. I hate watching someone suffer or hurt. Maybe that’s what kept me rooted to the spot I stood at, Alatariel tugged at my heart strings because she looked as if she needed help even if she didn’t want it. A frown pulled at the corners of my lips, it caused my brows to furrow together and a crease for form between them. “My word is probably meaningless to you right now since we just met, but I would never hurt you. I’d be more than happy to keep a ten foot distance between us at all times if that made you feel more comfortable,” I tried to put as much conviction as I could into those words as I meant every bit of it. I may be a skilled killer but I wasn’t a bully. If I was to raise a hand against Alatariel with how frail she looks, that’s all I would be, a bully. That would make me no better than Matthew who Truth and I recently killed. If I became just a fraction of what Matthew was like I would gladly put my head on the block to be killed. Everyone deserves a fair life. To live life being bullied around isn’t fair. Again the same shiver of anger rippled won my spine, of course it wasn’t directed at Alatariel but the warped views she was brain washed into believing. Is there a possibility? Beneath every living wolf? Never could be equal? With each passing sentence I got more and more annoyed, I forced myself to show calm and collected exterior no matter how my blood boiled. Slowly I nodded. “Of course you can be equal to someone. We are Rogue Werewolves out here. We don’t need to abide to the pack standards of a pecking order. If you choose to be equal to someone then you are. If you wish to remain an omega then you will. It is just a matter of thought, take what you want. If you don’t have the desire to do anything then nothing will happen. Take it. Not everything has to be done with brute force, just with your will power you can accomplish more than anything. You just need to want it.” I eyed her carefully, watching her as she took in the information. I let out a soft sight and my right hand lifted to scratch along my jaw, scratching along the light stubble that lined it. Softly I added, “I don’t want you to think of me as a dominant. Please, let me be your equal. It is much easier that way.” Green eyes blazed brightly as I continued to watch her quietly. In good faith, showing my trust in her I tilted my head back just as a wolf may, exposing my throat to her. If she chose to she could wound me beyond repair or she could show that she did respect me. Clothes: Dark green t-shirt, faded slim fitting jeans, && a pair of older than dirt boots [/style] I want to reconcile the violence in your heart I want to excorcise the demons from your past

[ALATARIEL TEMPTEST RIEU]

[style=font-family: times; font-size: 12px; letter-spacing: 1px; text-transform: lowercase; color: #989898; font-style: italic; font-weight: bold;]1717 WORDS FOR JERICHO IT IS VERY LATE BUT I HOPE YOU LIKE IT <3 Need to get back in Alatariel mode again <3 DREAM [/style]

[atrb=border,0,true][atrb=width,450,true][atrb=cellSpacing,0,true][atrb=cellPadding,0,true][atrb=style, background-color: #6d6d6d;] [style=padding: 10px; text-align: justify; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; height: 475px; overflow: auto; color: #1e1e1e;]Even though it was a beautiful summer night, she felt cold. A arctic chill seemed to have filled the air, coating her flesh with teasing bites that got bolder as the more she slipped deeper into the shadows of her mind. The wind seemed to pick up, swirling around her and lashing with obvious glee. Sinking into the thin pieces of flesh and muscle, bringing chill to the pumping blood so that it slowed and became slightly groggy. Her eyes unfocused for a second as she gazed down at the ground, eyelashes closing silently as she took a deep breath. How had it gotten so cold?? Mere moments before it had been slightly chilly due to it being night, even a summer one but now it seemed to be freezing. Or this is what she thought but it could possibly be a figment of her imagination. Who knew? Certainly not she. Now you wonder how she could imagine this with just her mind so that every sense that she had could feel the bitter iciness of the wind. Her mind was a shattered place, filled with tape and weak barriers that were keeping the memories at bay but loosely. The fractured thing that was her mind made her imagine things whenever the memories came too close to the surface, too close to breaking free of the fragile hold she had on them to torment what was left of her mind and soul. The chill had distracted her, giving her safeguards enough time to heal the barrier between the memories and her mind. If her mind had not made her believe the chill was in the air, the memories would have taken a hold and destroyed what was left of her. Shivering in the cold, even though only she could feel it Alatariel pondered. Wondered what this male wanted from her. Had she not been injured enough? Had she not suffered enough years? Could she not finally have her freedom that she so clearly sought and had won? Would it be taken away from her? Would her dreams of finally being dependent on no one but herself shattered to little bits? Oh how Alatariel hoped not. She had finally become her own person. She could finally wake up without worrying that a male wolf would come barging in with a whip to flay open her flesh. With shackles to hold her to the ceiling as the taunted and beat her until she was bleeding, sobbing mess. She could finally walk around with her head up and her shoulders squared without fearing a smack to deliver her to the ground and blood to spill from another busted lip or bitten tongue. Now she could do anything she wanted and rejoin the real world or how much as she could in her condition. Finally she could be free of the shackles that had restrained her for so many years. And even as the male tried to tell her…no show her that he meant no harm it was hard for Alatariel to believe. He might be sincere but would she take the risk? It was a long shot and her trust had been shattered and decayed so many years ago that she didn’t know if she knew how to trust in the first place. Would he chain her again, clip her wings to keep her to fly? Or would he try to help her learn to become what she should have been had she not been tortured? Alatariel did not know the answers to these questions, so many bad, and it irritated her but also left her wondering what would be the right choice to make. As she had thought these thoughts, she had lifted my eyes to stare at Wicked without really seeing him. As her eyes cleared of the cloudy mist she saw that he as well had cloudy eyes signaling him reliving some past memories but she didn’t know if they were good or bad. Curious but too well…trained to ask a question she kept silent, biting her bottom lip nervously and wondering what was going to happen from here on out. Maybe for the first time in history her luck would be good and she would finally have an ally in this cruel world that had turned against her. How she desperately wished this to be true. When he smiled, it shocked me to the core, causing my feet to implant themselves to the ground and my eyes to widen a fraction. A smile….a lovely smile that lit up his face. Never had I seen a smile directed toward me and to see one again lifted my heart and made a little joy and hope enter the tarnished organ that was my heart. My fingers twitched against my side and my tongue nervously darted out to wet my lips as he began to speak. When he nodded his head, again her eyes widened before swiftly returning to their normal size. Why did he do that? She could only wander but again she did not speak. She caught his words on the wind, letting them feel her mind and soak into the dry thing that was her confidence. He didn’t think meeting her was a mistake! Another point in his direction, another boost in the fragile glimmer of hope that was beginning to bubble forth. When he teased her, she could not help the soft and melodic laugh that escaped her dry throat to echo in the silence after he finished speaking. She had laughed again! And it had felt good! Oh thank the wolf gods for sending him to her. Even with this small meeting he was slowly healing and giving her something precious that she had long thought gone. Yet all too soon did the laughter die and the humor vanish as though it was never there. The mood of seriousness was awakened and now lived like a curled snake around the two of them. Instantly tensing, she wondered what was going to happen now. Did she say something wrong? Did she blunder somehow when she asked him to not hurt her? These thoughts flashed through her mind quickly, causing the she – wolf to take a step back and to once more bend into herself even though her instincts told her she would never be in danger in his presence. How her instincts knew this she did not know and did not truly care at the moment. As he began to frown, she looked at the forest and the direction from which she had come, wondering which would be the better escape route when the time came for her to flee from him. She had already taken a step in the direction of the woods when he spoke, causing her to freeze and look at him with wide eyes. His words surprised her and it could clearly be seen in her eyes, which had been a open book ever since he came. It was mostly because she had never been good hiding her emotions and the newness of her situation was just opening her more for some to plunder and peer into the very depth of her soul. ”No…something is telling me I can trust you…but the distance is welcomed.” she murmured, clearing her throat slightly and letting herself once more become comfortable in his presence, or the best she could at the moment. Her nose wrinkled as the scent of anger filled the air. Had she done something wrong again? Instead of cowering, she simply stared at him wondering what she had done this time to upset him. As he spoke, his words processed inside her mind but she never took any part of her attention away from him. Standing still, muscles clenched and eyes look she looked like the prey staring at the big predator, not wanting to move unless she provoked it. Equality? Could she truly ever be equal to someone after what she had endured? Would not wolves look down on her for being weak, unable to defend her? Would they not be disgusted with what she had become, so weak and pathetic? She did not know the answers, but he seemed to have some clue and even seemed to believe they were equals. Amazing. When he finished and sigh, she thought over what he spoken. Could she truly become powerful again? Could she truly become what she was meant to be? She did want it, but she was also afraid. The wolves who had tortured her still lingered, their torture still close by and keeping her from seizing what she wanted. She had the power beaten out from her. Who could say it would not happen again if she tried to seize what had been hidden and locked away from her? No one could say that she wouldn’t be hurt again. Sure they could attempt to promise to protect her or assure me that she would never be tortured, but the promise couldn’t always be kept. Or so she believed this which kept her from taking the power that thrummed in her wolf when she had changed the very first time. She shied away and denied it…and this would keep her from ever leaving her past behind but she was oblivious to that large fact. Silly Alatariel. Again he spoke, and again she listened. She had become good at this, listening to him. His words soft of calmed her, letting the wolf that barely survived in her soul drop her guard and lay down for once, not on guard as she waited to be hurt. Instead she watched him from inside her human body, wondering when the time came where she would be whole again. Nibbling on her lip, Alatariel eyed his submissive posture before sighing. ”It does not feel right when you do that….but I will listen. We can be equals if you wish it…..just know that if I become afraid or do something that makes you worry….don’t be surprised. It is just me living out some memories or reacting like I have been to keep myself alive from the rouges that held me captive” she tried her best to explain and warn him about how she might react to the simplest movements or change in his posture or attitude. [/style]

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