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We say Jeep takes a lot out of a Puzzle.

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Word Count: 717

My writing buddies @green-hunter-05 + @theblackdeviant created a challenge of writing a of something random that one of us chose within 24 hours. If you’d like in, contact us — we’d love more challengers! @storybot

This challenge was: ROMANCE

They stared at one another, both surrounded by bodies of their kin. She watched as he wiped his blood stained hair from his brow.

“Ellanar...”

She had always marvelled at how a man so softly spoken could exude the amount of strength he did. She gazed at the man she once loved as he bared his sword stained with the blood of her brethren and yet the sun still shone over him…

“We did not start this fight, Faramir. That spineless toad you call father did! You have proven which side you are on.” Without taking her eyes off the prince with his soft, chestnut coloured hair, she drove her sword into one of his soldiers effectively cutting off his moans. But I will end it, she thought and charged, ripping her sword from the man she just killed. Her elven body ran nimbly, almost flying over the corpses that littered the plain between them. Her mind only had one thought; to end Faramir.

Faramir stood still, captivated by her violent beauty. Her long hair, the colour of a raven, streamed behind her and mingled with her silver tunic and cape, a mixture of blues, blacks and whites sparkled in the sunlight. He had always believed she was a Goddess sent from the Undying Lands, a Goddess he was fortunate to call his own.

“Ellanar, please.”

“No, Faramir!” She cried, angry tears fell from her eyes. “I will still your tongue before it ever speaks my name again!”

She swung her sword, aiming for his head only to hit Faramir’s waiting blade. They were close, her sweet breath caressing his cheek. Her hair whipped around her as if the wind had heard her angry pleas.

“It’s the White Wizard,” he pleaded. “None of this is real,” he said, motioning around him. He was unsure of what she saw but he knew Saruman had a hand in this, even from his Isengard tower.

Her dark eyes bore into him with the fury of a thousand men as she brought her sword down, trying to slice at his heart. Faramir, a skilled swordsman, simply stepped away from her weapon’s biting edge, refusing to fight. He could see the workings of dark magic etching themselves deeper into her porcelain skin.

“Fight me!” She hissed. “Fight me, Faramir!”

“I will never fight her, Saruman.” He could hear the rasp of the wizard’s voice mingle with hers.

A cold, high-pitched laugh left her lips. “She will never stop, young Gondorian. Ever!”

Her elegant boot hit him square in the chest, knocking him down to the muddy earth beneath them.

“This will be the end of both of you!” Her blade now hovered over his heart.

Faramir held the hidden switchblade he pulled from his own boot as he fell, the realisation of the White Wizard’s plan surfacing in his mind. He wanted both dead. He wanted anarchy to reign supreme, and it surely would if both the Elven Princess and the Steward of Gondor died at the hands of one another.

“No, Saruman. Just the end of me.” His fingers tingled at the memory of her skin on his before he thrusted his dagger deep into his abdomen.

“No!” At first it was Saruman’s deep baritone that left her lips but as his lifeblood slowly drained from his wound, so too did the voice morph back into Ellenar’s pained cry.

“Faramir!” She fell to her knees, dropping the sword beside them. “What have you done?”

He weakly pulled her into his chest, bringing her face to his. Ellanar openly wept, her lips brushed featherlight kisses across the brow of her beloved.

“Saved you, my heart.” He whispered.

Ellanor was unsure of how much time had passed before she rose from Faramir’s pale face. She was also unsure of how Saruman had poisoned her with his dark magic; the field now as clear as her mind. What she was sure of was the vengeance that had penetrated her soul and that she would not have to wait long to see her Faramir again.

“Your death will not be in vain, my Prince.” She promised, tucking an auburn curl behind his ear before standing up.

“I'm coming for you, White Wizard.” She whispered into the wind, knowing her message would reach him in Isengard.

Progress: Slow.

Halfway finished (needs custom thumbnails to help identify all these things) -

On Trend / Unintentionally Yours sets (divided by company - 4 packages)

Antique Rugs 1 - 3 4

Mid Century Modern

Oriental Rugs 1 & 2 (many replacements due to original image sizes)

Contemporary 2 & 3 (3 is new, 1 is abandoned)

CB2 2010 & 2011

Code Blue / Going Green

5x3 Series 1 & 2, and 3 (expanded)

Still left to convert and compile -

Runners

Pet Mat

Still left to compile -

CB2 2018

Anthropologie 2018

Wayfair 2018

S3 Contemporary 3

S3 5x3 Series 3 expanded

S3 Antique Rugs Series 4 (updated 5/22/18)

S3 CB2, Anthropologie, and Wayfair 2018

S3 Oriental Rugs 1 & 2 - not sure if it is a vast improvement - might pass.