Chapter 1: An Eventful Night
EDIT: I've gone back and edited all chapter posted up to Chapter 6. But, I apologize for not updating in...well...forever. I had gone into a block in the story, and recently I've found my muse again (thank you music!). Anyhow, I have up to Chapter 9 ready to post, but I won't post it yet. I will, however, continue this story until I reach the end and must wait until April to buy the DoS DVD (I never got to see it in theaters, so I'm REALLY upset about that...). At least it's not too far off...
A/N: Thank you for stopping by and giving The Amarië a chance :) I appreciate that! Now, this is a separate story from the Scarlet Eyes Trilogy that I have been working on, and is in no way related to it. This one is about...well...you'll see XD It will be a bit of a Kili/OC fic, but I do not want to go overboard at all. Just like Scarlet Eyes, The Amarië will take a slow route in romance. I can tell you for sure, that there will be absolutely, positively, no way in hell that they will profess their love for each other nearing, at, or in Rivendell. Not happening. End of story. Good-bye. The END. Any questions? Nope? Cool! ...moving on...*clears throat*. I hope you will all enjoy this as much as you all did with what is up of the Scarlet Eyes Trilogy. Anyway, onto the story! Oh, and just in case anyone needs them, translations: Amarië (Uh-mar-aye), Caynna (Cain-uh), Tilian (Till-ee-en).
Without further ado, let's begin...
A single, lone figure moved swiftly and silently in the night covered forest. It blended and moved with the shadows, appearing and disappearing with rapid yet silent movements. It paused against the trunk of a large oak tree, their quarry in range.
A campfire was lit in the clearing, the orange and yellow flames licking the air and casting light about the faces of the shadow's quarry. The men, no bandits, crashed through the forest like a bunch of mumakil; their apparent lack of concealment clear to the shadowed figure. Two young women dressed in white, dirt covered dresses with their hands bound behind their backs and a cloth over their eyes were roughly shoved into the small clearing in the forest as the bandits laughter rose up loud and raucous. The figure lingered behind the tree before crouching around the side, the shadows around them coming forth and concealing them from the ever moving eyes of the bandits. One woman had light golden locks that curled past her shoulders, and the other, no doubt her sister, had auburn hair that fell in graceful waves down to the middle of her back.
They were shoved to the ground close to the fire, a yell of surprise coming from both of them making the men laugh in delight. "Oi, you got any ale?" one bandit called to another, his hand trailing through the hair of the golden hair woman, " 'Cause I need a drink before we start our own fun."
The hidden figure held in their anger with great difficulty. That bastard will pay, they thought as their dark grey cloak shifted slightly in the breeze, the subtle noise sounding like the stirring leave about the forest as the wind blew through it.
"I do. I got some right here," another said as two more bandits came in with a large barrel of ale ready to be dished out.
"Aye, that'll do," the first gave a nod and a crude smile as he removed the cloth over the women's eyes. "Pretty ladies like you shouldn't have been out at night."
The women scooted closer to each other, and the hidden figure tensed as they prepared to attack the seven bandits. "Let us go, please," the golden hair lady begged. "We have money-"
"But we don't want money," the man interrupted as he gave a sinister look at the women, and they squirmed under the glance. "You fair ladies know what we want."
The younger of the two, the woman with the auburn hair, scooted closer to her sister as tears formed in her eyes. Now's my chance, the figure thought. No need to scare them too bad.
In a swift motion, the figure had drawn three throwing knives and threw them, each of the five and a half inch long blades finding a throat to bury itself in. Three down, four to go, the figure thought with glee as they dashed forward from the shadows drawing their short sword.
The bandits, taken by surprise, barely had time to register the shadowy figure moving toward them. One bandit went to call out a warning to the others, yet their cry never left their throat as the cold, light steel slashed through the bandit's neck. He fell dead to the ground as his comrade got over his shock. As he drew his blade, the shadow shrouded figure drew another two throwing knives and threw them, one blade finding the neck of the bandit in front of them and the other in the neck of the bandit fleeing. Six down, the figure thought as they straightened up and moved to the remaining bandit, one to go.
The last bandit, the one who had been trailing his hand in the women's hair, now drew away from the surprisingly short shadowy figure. He drew his sword from his side, the blade looking unfamiliar in his hands. "I'll kill you," he stuttered, obviously used to just bluffing when he had all his men, "I swear it!"
The short figure of five foot three inches advanced on the bandit slowly. "I mean it!" the bandit said, his voice cracking as he attempted to look menacing.
"No you don't," came a slender, feminine voice. "You couldn't escape me if you tried."
The man gaped at her, and then the next thing he knew was a sword cutting his throat. He clutched at his throat, dropping his sword in the process as he looked like a strangling man. With a last gurgling breath, he fell dead to the ground. "Seven down," the slender, feminine voice came again as she turned to the terrified and still bound women, "none to go."
"M…Miss?" the youngest, auburn haired woman asked in a terrified voice. "Are you going to…k…kill us?"
The cloaked female crouched in front of the two women and removed her hood. Her medium lengthed, brown hair that had a slight red and gold sheen to it in the fire light was tied up in a French braid with three smaller braids on each side of her head (one above her ear, by her temple, and one close to her part) going back to the full length braid. Her dark, storm grey eyes peered at the two women, a kind hearted spirit in them trying to give them comfort. Then, the two women noticed the scar that ran from just above her left eyebrow down to her the top of her left cheek bone passing right through the storm grey eye that should have been, but wasn't blind. "My name is Caynna, and I am not here to harm you," she said in the gentlest voice she could muster.
"I am Fayon," the golden hair woman said before gesturing to her sister with her head, "and this is Halyon."
"You two hail from Rohan, yes?" Caynna asked as she cut the women's binds with her dagger and continued on when they gave their mysterious heroine a quizzical look. "You resemble the ladies of Rohan, and then your names are clearly Rohirrum. May I ask why you two are so far from Rohan? We are just past Isengard."
"We…" Fayon started then sneezed in a squeaky sound, her hand flying to her mouth before moving to her shoulders. "I'm sorry, I seem to have gotten a small chill."
Caynna smiled and removed her tough leather-like cloak with a soft, lined inside and stood. The two women moved away from the dangerously close fire before Caynna draped the cloak about the women's shoulders, and that was when the two women finally got a good look at the woman that had saved them from whatever foul play the bandits where bound to do to them. Under the cloak she was previously wearing, she wore a shorter, thinner grey leather jacket with a soft inside as well. It fit to her frame slightly, but it was not thin enough to show more than the minuet curves the mysterious women bore. Her dark greyish-brown feminine breeches, on the other hand, were snug to her rather muscled legs and were tucked into dark brown, light traveling boots. On one hip rested a belt with two long daggers and a knife, and the other side had a pouch of throwing knives. As Caynna moved her hand to put her third dagger back on her hip, the two Rohirrum women noticed the dark grey leather gauntlets and nearly black fingerless gloves on the other woman's hands.
They noticed the way that the young woman was neither elegantly fragile looking nor was she lanky. She seemed to be brawnier than most women, but not so that it made her look more masculine than feminine. She was, without a doubt, a mix of races, but she was still a rather confusing sight when Halyon tried to contemplate what she was exactly. Finally, after a moment of hard thinking, she gulped down her shyness and gave a nod to the standing woman. "Not to be rude, miss," she said in a sweet little voice, "but may I ask what are you? I mean…what is your race?"
"Well," Caynna gave a kind of mock grimace, "I am part human, and part dwarf."
"How?"
"My father was a man, and my mother was mostly dwarf with a small bit of man in her. That's why I am so short."
"And why you are broader than most woman."
"Yet still fair enough to be considered beautiful," Halyon added with an enthusiastic nod.
Caynna smiled and shook her head. "I am far from beautiful. Pretty enough for a man to have a small crush on would probably fit me better," she said with a small smile.
"I think you are very pretty!" Halyon said with a smile.
Oh, Mahal, she's one of those enthusiastic girls! Caynna thought with a smile as she stuck her pointer and index finger in her mouth and whistled a loud, shrill sound.
In response to the whistle, the sound of hooves hitting dirt came from the forest, and soon a large, dark grey stallion with a thick black mane and tail trotted into the clearing, his movements sure and steady with the grace only a horse could somehow possess. Two other horses came out of the woods behind him, a bay splash mare with one blue eye and one brown, and a palomino mare, both horses being taller than the regal stallion. The two Rohirrum women jumped up and rushed their mounts with overjoyed expressions painted on their faces. They greeted their horses in Rohirric before turning to Caynna once more as the lass watched the two enthusiastic women. "How did you find them?" Fayon asked in awe.
"I didn't. Tilian did," Caynna said and her stallion arched his neck in pride at the statement.
"No way," Fayon said in disbelief as she examined the stallion. "Halyon, sister, come here."
Halyon looked over the stallion as well with her eyes, trained in the ways to pick out the most unique characteristics of horses, and nodded as Tilian gave the sisters a reproachful glance. "Still," Caynna commanded in a hushed voice, and the horse gave a snort in reply.
"Tilian is his name?" Halyon asked again.
"Yes."
"Impossible…"
"What?"
"This stallion here," Fayon started and motioned to Tilian, "is of Rohirrum decent. Royal decent. I would know his bone frame anywhere."
"He is," Caynna said with a nod, "on his father's side two generations or so back. He's a real pain in my ass some times."
Tilian gave an offended snort and turned his head up. "You are lucky to have him, Caynna…" Fayon started and then gave a frown. "Where do you hail from?"
Caynna gave a soft smile as Fayon handed her back the cloak. She drew about her cloak once more before turning to the girls. "I hail from nowhere," Caynna said as she began to fix Tilian's saddle girth. "I grew up with a Ranger from the North. He taught me many of my skills before I left, the need to see the world too great to keep me back. I ended up in an assassin's guild where I trained for years to hone my other skills before I became a freelance Ranger. Odd mix, yes, but it suits me well. So, where I hail I do not know as I never knew my parents only of what race they were a part of. That and I kind of figured it out. It is a bit obvious. But," Caynna turned from the saddle and looked at both women with her dark, storm grey eyes, "many call me Caynna, the Amarië."
"What is that?" Halyon asked as Caynna fixed a short sword sheath on her back and a hidden dagger to the underside of her gauntlets.
Caynna mounted Tilian's saddle, the horse giving a snort of excitement. "The elves gave me the name. It is the Ghost Shadow, for I am both a ranger and an assassin with my own free will, not tied to any one place. May you travel safe, Halyon and Fayon of Rohan. Do not rest until you get to Bree. Stay on the lookout and keep out of the forest at night if you can help it."
With that note said and done, Caynna threw up her hood, gave a small bow of her head to the two women, and spurred Tilian back into the forest the way he came, the shadows following after them and hiding them from view as they disappeared into the night once more.
The fire raged up about her, the flames licking and burning everything in their path. She couldn't move for her hands were bound. With some effort, she was about to break the binds, her wrists bloody from the constant tearing and pulling of the crude binds. Caynna rolled to the side just in time to avoid being crushed under a flaming beam of wood. She stood, her blood covered hand on her side trying to staunch the flow of blood that had stained her torn grey shirt a dark crimson color. She walked on unsteady feet like a drunkard, but her only thoughts were she needed to get out of there. Slowly, but surely, she was able to get her bearings about her once more, and took off at a run despite the aches of pain coming from her body that cried out for her to stop.
Caynna refused to listen to the pain and kept running through the burning jail, her bare feet slapping the ground in the silent steps of a trained assassin and hunter. The roar of the fire and the crack of wood alerted her to the ceiling that was beginning to cave in. The exit was blocked by a door, though how it had yet to catch fire she did not know. With renewed hope, she charged the door and threw her shoulder into it with all the strength she had left. The door splintered and shattered on the impact as Caynna flew through it to roll on the ground in a painful flesh hitting stone floor sound. Yet she didn't have time to lay around as the rest of the building was already up in the hot, roaring flames.
As she stood, a sword snaked around her neck and held itself there in a threatening manner. "Hello, my pretty dear," the sinister voice said into Caynna's ear as he held her arms in a tight grip, the bruises and cuts already on her arm now doubling in pain as the pressure took its toll on the already injured lass. "Where do you think you're going?"
"Let go of me, asshole!" Caynna said with hatred laced into her voice.
The man laughed at her before whipping the lass around to face him. "You are feisty. You thought you could escape me, my little ghost?"
"The ceiling is about to crash down on us," Caynna said through her teeth. "If we stay here much longer, we will both die."
"You do care for me."
"Fuck you!"
The sword came down on her so fast she didn't have time to react much except shut her eyes and dodge back as best as she could. The sword sliced down just above her eyebrow to her cheek bone. Caynna cried out in pain and fear as the cold steel sliced through the thin skin as her stomach churned in gut wrenching horror that she may have just been blinded in her left eye. Suddenly, the ceiling came crashing down upon the man and the lass. With whatever strength she had left in her, Caynna ran across the building, jumped through a window, and hurled down into the lake below.
The icy cold water washed up around her, and chilled her to the bone. As her head broke the surface, she gasped for air, each inhale sending a piercing pain through her chest. Caynna made her way to the shore, the light of the blazing fire bathing everything around it in hues of oranges and yellows. She clawed her way up on the bank, her body tired, sore, and beaten to the end.
As the darkness began to fall about her a single silhouette appeared in her line of vision; a man with a long, grey curly beard and a pointy, tattered hat stood above the broken, beat up assassin. "You…have a…funny hat," was all Caynna managed to say before passing out.
Caynna jerked awake from beside her horse, the stallion turning to give her a look of "what the hell is wrong with you?". Caynna shook her head to clear the past pain that had resurfaced all about her body once more. "We should keep going, Tilian," she said as she stood up with her horse following suit.
"Where are you going, my dear?" came a voice from Caynna's past.
She turned quickly, dagger in hand and ready to fight whoever it was that just attempted – okay did – sneak up on her. "Who…Gandalf?" Caynna stopped as she saw the grey wizard with his funny pointed grey hat ride up to her on a shaggy looking chestnut horse that was a hand or two taller than Tilian. "Gandalf?!" she asked again only with surprise and glee. "Gandalf!"
"My dear, you will wear out my name before the night turns to day," he chuckled. "Caynna, it is good to see you are doing rather well."
"I would say the same for you, Gandalf," Caynna said after giving the old wizard a hug, "but I'd be mistaken. Have you gotten greyer?"
"I can assure you, my dear, that I have not become greyer," Gandalf said with mock offence, "only wiser."
"What are you doing in these parts so close to Bree?"
"I may ask you the same, though I knew you were here anyhow," Gandalf countered just as he always did.
"For one, you are the only person I know that has ever been able to know where I am all the time," Caynna said as she began to saddle Tilian. "Most happen upon me whereas you, my friend, merely need to use your 'wizardly powers' to find me and poof! You're here in front of me!"
"That is true," Gandalf said as he stroked his beard thoughtfully as if trying to find a way around the question he had in mind, but found none. "Actually, I meant to seek you out on purpose this time around. I have found myself in need of another person to share in an adventure."
Caynna smiled thinking this was another one of his "accompany me to the next place of civilization" adventures. "And where shall the old man need me to take him this time?" she asked with a mock bow and flourish.
However, Gandalf's smile was neither teasing nor joking, but instead it was dead serious. "My dear, it is to none other than the Lonely Mountain."
Caynna's smile dropped off her face in shock and wonder. "What?" she stated more than asked. "You mean you, Gandalf the Grey, the old man-wizard-person, is going to go to the Lonely Mountain alone?"
"No, not alone! Never alone, my dear. In fact, to answer your previous question, I am heading to the Shire to seek out a single hobbit with the name of Bilbo Baggins. I have been asked by the leader of our company of thirteen dwarves to seek out a fourteenth member, and I have chosen this hobbit."
Caynna tightened Tilian's girth with a grunt as she turned to her weapons on the ground. "Then why ask me to accompany you on this trip?" she asked as she began to strap on some of her daggers.
"We will need you before the end, Caynna Amarië," Gandalf said as he leaned on his staff. "Please consider my offer. It will do you some good to travel with some company once more, my dear."
"I do-"
"Tilian is a horse, not a person. He may respond to you, my dear, but honestly, it is like having a one sided conversation with a rock wall."
Tilian turned and faced the wizard, an indignant snort coming from him as he flattened his ears and looked down his nose at Gandalf, his black forelock spreading out about his forehead is a cute, colt-like way. "You hurt his pride, Gandalf," Caynna said with a smile.
Gandalf waved the horse away. "If you reconsider, which I truly hope you do, in three days' time, meet up at a house on Bag-End. There will be a mark on the green, round door. Supper will also be served."
"Super with thirteen dwarves, or another meal after killing a group of bandits or orcs or goblins?" Caynna said with mock indecision. "I'll be at the house in three days' time, Gandalf. If I will do this, I will do this for you, and only you. I am merely repaying the favor you gave to me."
"My dear, saving your life that night was purely due to the fact that you needed my help and I gave it to you. Perhaps you should stop jumping out of, or off of, buildings in general."
"You know I can't do that!" Caynna said as she mounted Tilian's saddle while Gandalf remounted his own horse. "It's just not my style!"
"So I see…"
"Where will you be heading, then?"
"To the Shire, of course. And you?"
"To Bree," Caynna said, her smile gone and her business look coming about her, "I have some unattended business to finish while there. It should only take a while."
"Until we meet again, my dear," Gandalf said as he turned his own horse toward the road, "be safe."
"I will," Caynna called as she spurred Tilian into a canter through the back roads of the forest, "I always am!"
"No you are not," Gandalf muttered with a smile and a shake of his head. "Not all the time at least."