The Last of the Guardians Part 2 - A Hobbit Fan Fiction

Chapter 16 - Sienna

It was a long time before Sîor spoke. The silence grew between them like poison, wrapping it's tendrils around Nema and choking her.

A small part of her longed to reach out and pull her words from the air - to take them back and forget they had ever been spoken. But that thought was stifled by the spark of defiance flooding her veins.

Across the roof from her stood Sîor, bare chested as always, wings never quite still. His amber eyes were alight with a demon-like glow, as though flames burned behind them. The moon was beginning to rise, creating a dark silhouette of Sîor's form. With his eyes being the only colour on him, and his wings blackened by the darkness, Sîor looked more beast than Guardian.

When he finally spoke, his voice sounded like that of an ancient creature born of hatred and destruction.

"What you wish for is none of my concern."

"Then why stay?" Nema asked quietly.

"Unlike you, I know how to follow orders."

"Orders from who? Thranduil?"

Sîor's eyes became snake-like slits in his face, and Nema knew instantly that she had gone too far. But it was too late to turn back now. "I know," she continued, "I know you are Thranduil's Guardian."

"Was. I am his no longer. Protecting him from the dwarf released me from his service."

"You never said anything. You never told me. Why?"

"It was not necessary for you to know."

A deep sense of hurt was building in Nema's chest. Out of all of them, Sîor had been the one she trusted the most. And now she was paying for it. "You don't trust me?"

"Do you blame me?" Sîor laughed darkly. "To trust you would be a folly. You are an irresponsible, worthless excuse for a Guardian." 

"Enough," she hissed at him. "You've told me how disappointed you are already. Well you know what? I could not care less what you think. You are nothing in my eyes. Now I am telling you for the last time - leave."

Sîor made no reply. He only lifted a hand to his mouth and exhaled into it slowly. He drew it away again, and Nema saw the hilt of a sword now clenched in his fist. The blade grew from the hilt, long and sharp, all the while flashing in the moonlight. As it grew, Sîor raised his hand again, this time producing his dagger, followed by his bow and quiver of arrows.

Nema watched on in horror, her mind furiously trying to work out how he was retrieving his weapons from the air. He had never taught her how to do it. When the elves had caught them in Mirkwood, Sîor had shown her how to conceal them and she had felt the weight of the weapons on her as soon as they vanished. Even now, Nema could feel the sword hanging from her hip, and could sense the bow as her wings brushed against it, but she had no idea how to get to them. Whenever she moved her hand over her shoulder to find an arrow she felt only air.

"I should have known," Sîor said as he adjusted his grip on his sword, "that you would never come willingly." Nema had just enough time to feel confused over his words before he lunged at her.

Her eyes went wide and she leaped upwards, out of his reach. The sword came down, gouging the roof but missing Nema. She flew over Sîor and came to land on the roof of the house next to theirs. Sîor snarled and launched himself into the air, sword raised.

Blinded by panic, Nema ran. The gap between the houses opened up and she threw herself across it. The sound of Sîor's wings beat loudly in her ears and she could feel them buffeting the air against her as he came down for a second strike.