Mairë Annatári

Now animated, Fëanor colour study by Soni Alcorn-Hender. (Bigger, better, uncrunched resolution version here

Maire paced, glittering in blood red robes. Their hems hissed like vipers as they trailed across the floor. With every step, her tone grew sweeter. This was not a good sign at all. 

Oh, how hard he was trying to wriggle out of this though he felt the walls closing in on him, felt that even his sweet, fast tongue was slowly running out of things to say to defend himself. But he would not give up, certain he’d prevail here just as the corsair had so many times in the past. One did not manage to keep a vaguely handsome physique if one did not know how to protect, life, limb, ship and crew. And his elusive title of course.

“And ‘tis not fair to accuse me of past crimes since I have been rather..laid back with said plundering in the last years. I doubt a few ships could have angered them so much. It was merely a way to flex my muscles and keep people from thinking I had grown weak. That is all, my lady.”

The way Maire was pacing, the way her voice grew sweet as honey- Ji Indur might have done foolish things but he was no fool. Besides he’d fight whoever would call his actions foolish. Everybody who was not the mistress, for that matter. And his head? Aye, such a barbaric heartless demand. 

“Well…. Let them have at me then.” he replied, chest puffed out in a peacock’s way, filled with unnecessary pride, “if they wish to fight me for my head, so be it. But if I defeat them they will have to swear fealty to you for generations to come. Oh mighty Maire…you know me well by now, don’t you? While my actions and words might not seem to always follow a path you would prefer them to, I never did this out of rebellious intent or to undermine your authority. You know I did my utmost to be a loyal servant to you thorough the centuries.”

Should he expect any lenience? Nay, he knew he wouldn’t be this lucky to escape unscathed all the times. But…it was worth a try?

“Save your breath. I know your lines so well that I’ll spare you the trouble. ‘Forgive me, my Lady! You wound me, my Lady! Fate forced my hand, my Lady, and my crimes were all for you! I’m a slave to your might and wisdom! Spare me, most ravishing Maire, and I’ll shower you with praises! And with kisses, if you’ll let me! Oh, you enthrall me so!’” She paraded like a courtier, throwing back her shoulders (which might bedazzle Ji a little, given her low neckline) and gesturing dramatically. Without a Maia’s grace, she would have looked ridiculous. If Ji’s theatrical fits were half so daft, and if a wraith could blush, he might turn a very shamefaced shade of grey. With her last words, she blew him a kiss and dropped the act. 

“Before you sing me lauds, reformed ex-butcher of the seas, let me remind you that kings command their fleets. You might have irked the Haradrim no more than a whining gnat, but your subjects plagued them. Are you shocked that they blame you? If I don’t give them your head, they’ll ask for a hundred others.” 

Of course she wouldn’t hack it from his shoulders. A few mewling warlords weren’t worth the effort it took to dismember a wraith. She might fling them witless thieves, but none so clever as Ji. She wouldn’t let him know it, though. Not yet. He deserved to tremble. 

meme: Send “?” plus a question your muse has always wanted to ask mine, and my muse will answer without judgement!for @maire-annatari

“Forgiven and forgotten! Lately you’ve been beyond reproach.” Or beneath it, Maire thought, recalling last week’s gossip about hairy wraiths from Umbar. She felt no urge to wade into that silliness, and shutting it up didn’t seem worth the trouble. Ji might be stinging now, but he’d leap at the soonest chance to needle someone else. The Herald, perhaps. Yes, it was Mordu’s turn to suffer. All of Mordor would love a laugh at that poor blighter. 

“Ah, I apologize. I intended no lewdness to you, my Lady,” the Lieutenant started with a bow of his head… Really, he had not meant to come across like that… And besides, Lady Maire was almost certainly out of his league. Surely she would have no desire for such interactions with lowly Orcs.

… Alas, he couldn’t help but blush at the thought.

He was amused at how she spoke of the Herald, though. Though amusement soon turned to curiosity at what she was implying… A masterful seducer whom Gondor will love and trust? What did she mean by…?

Maire smirked a little, pleased with her thorough knowledge of Mordor’s rumours. She paid well for interesting news, beguiling orcs and other, darker creatures into spying. If Gothmog’s underlings weren’t spilling his secrets, wild beasts might be. Wolves howled their tidings to the Lady. Bats chittered in her ears. Each day crows flapped to her Tower, cackling out their gossip in tongues no orc could speak. Even flies droned around her and earned bloody meat from her hands. None could say how much she heard, or what she saw with her own fiery Eye.

Lately she held the heir of Gondor in her gaze. His fears amused her, and she’d thought of a hundred uses for his anger. She might have watched his little talks with Gothmog. As the pale orc turned bright pink, she assumed this thought had dawned on him. Why else would Minas Morgul's most ambitious creature blush? If he'd risen through squabbling hordes to serve her as a lieutenant, with duties she'd initially intended for a Nazgul, he couldn't possibly be shrinking from her praise. Lewd quips shouldn't shock him either. Orc speech was full of them, and he made plenty himself. He must know something truly appalling.