Chapter 2- Dreams and Fantasy
My mother woke me that morning as she always does. I rolled out of my bed, and dressed quickly, wearing the same black tunic and trousers as I do nearly every day. I rebraided my hair and went into the kitchen, where my mother was standing over the fire. She handed me a piece of bread. I took it, though I despise eating it, and went outside. I took a deep breath, and hot, ash-laden air filled my lungs. Mikita came out soon after me, and we began to walk together toward Minas Morgul. The Dead City has always held a certain level of intrigue for the both of us- we once climbed to the top of the hidden stairs, but didn't dare venture any nearer.
Aside from Mikita, I have two brothers- Ereidain and Dymian. Ereidain is the eldest of the four- he is a guard of the Black Gate, to the north of where our settlement is located. He and father are not here often- they have been given a few days leave to come home and collect Dymian- for he has reached the age of sixteen, thus, he is required to report to the Black Gate and enlist in Sauron's army. That is what becomes of all men around here. They are allowed a month of every year to return home, and that is the only time that I see them. For the younger men, the month of leave is time to marry and- I suppose if you must put it in vulgar terms- mate. Understand that most marriages are arranged. I dread the next homecoming- fot I will then be suitable marrying-age. And marriage is the absolute last thing in Middle Earth I want to do. I want to see the rest of the earth first. I would run away if I could, but it is far too dangerous, what with all the Orcs that patrol the land. No- to run away is to sentence oneself to death.
My father and Ereidain and Dymian are to return to the front tomorrow. I will wish them well, and bid them leave, but my heart goes with them. My dearest desire is something I can not achieve. I long to fight, to serve this country- even if it is spurned by demonic creatures and warmongerers. It is the land of my birth. My heritage is here. My life is here. I would defend it with every fiber in my being. But I am a woman. And that is where my dream is killed and gutted faster than Orcs on a carcass. Females do NOT serve in the guard, or in the active battalions. I have told only Dymian of my dream. And, to my suprise, he did not disagree. "They could use you," he said. "You're good in a dogfight, that's for sure-" I smiled, recalling all the times he and I had gotten into little skirmishes- he being only two years my junior, he made fair competition. We would fistfight, and also fight with swords. I was fifteen when I got my first blade. It was a gift from my father- the last gift he gave me. "One day, Mari," he said. "This blade will save your life."
If only.
I sighed, and stopped walking, looking back at Mikita, who had stopped to examine some rocks. That child is the definition of the word curiosity. She is not satisfied until she sees everything, analyzes it, comments on it. Which, needless to say, makes our walk significantly longer. I looked past her, back down to where the mountain plummets down into the valley. In the distance, Mount Doom spurts fire into the air, and just behind it, the Great Eye rests in the tower of Barad-Dur. Lidless, always moving. That eye frightens me. I know that he is our leader, and that his prescence keeps the rest of Middle Earth out of here, but did the Dark Lord really have to take on such an imposing figure. The Eye is a sight that would put fear in the hearts of even the bravest soldiers. I shuddered and looked away, turning my sights instead to the green glow ahead. We were fast approaching Morgul. "Mikita!" I called to her. "Hurry!"
To my suprise, the girl actually listened, and several moments later, we had climbed the final cliff face and were looking down at the Dead City of Minas Morgul.
There is an aura around this place that is eerie and strange, but yet comforting. The air is still, stagnant- so close together you can reach out and touch it. And when you come over the last hill, the sounds that come from Mordor cease. Not a thing moves. Not a sound can be heard. It's a dark place... lifeless. Yet when you approach it, your heartbeat races. You fear for your life, though there is no visible danger. It sends a chill down my spine to look at the castle in the mountainside. Tall, and menacing- with sharp, pointed pinnacles on the ends. On the other side, I can see the stairs that lead to Cirith Ungol pass. That is one place that we dare not go. Every Mordorian knows why. An old song, passed down by the generations, warns of that:
Beware ye that pass by the Morgul Vale
of the dreaded creatures harbor'd there
for if ye take the secret stair
ye shall meet the spyder in her lair.
Peering tentatively over the boulder, Mikita asked me, "Is the Witch-King in there now?"
I nodded solemnly. "Always, Kita. He is always in his layer. He and the rest of the Nine. Together they are the Nazgul. And the Witch-king is their leader."
"I know that!" said Mikita irratibly. She hates it when I treat her life a youngling.
I looked around slowly, taking in my surroundings. A large cliff-face caught my eye, and a thought struck me.
"Kita," I said slowly, more to myself than to my sister. "If we climb those rocks... we might be able to glimpse Gondor."
Mikita gave me a strange look. "Why do you wish to look upon our enemies, sister?"
I shrugged. "To see if there really is an outside world."
"There is."
"You've never seen it."
"But Father told me about it," Mikita protested.
"Only fools believe things they haven't seen themselves," I protested. Mikita rolled her eyes. "Climb it, then," she said huffily. "I'm going back down."
"So be it," I responded, turning back to survey the rocks. They should be easy work- considering that I was not hampered by a dress. Finding my bearings, I began to climb. I went slowly, as quietly as I could. With every foot that I rose, my soul became more and more excited. I yearned to see the outside world- to see the places that I have never been, to dream of one day traveling the world...
As I tightened my fingers around a rock a few feet above me and pulled myself up, arms straining, my muscles tensing, I saw it. Extending up into the Western sky like a great white pillar.
Minas Tirith.
I was looking, for the first time, at Gondor.
The day at my altitude was strangely clear- if I squinted my eyes shut tight, I could see some of Ithilien. A cloud shifted over the City of Kings, and I saw the sun. It struck me a moment later that it was the first time I had ever seen the sun perfectly. It is always obscured by clouds in Mordor; there is only one time of day when a part of it is visible. The sky over Gondor was a clear, crystillian blue. It was, I admit, a beautiful sight. I smiled to myself, all alone in my newfound hideaway. I was glad inside that Mikita had not followed me. This would be my place- and mine only from now on.
I looked back out across the plain, watching a flock of birds fly across my field of view. I watched them until they disappeared off to the south. Then I turned my eyes back to the fortress infront of me. Everything seemed so still and peaceful. For once in life.
Mari- nickname for Marina
so: what do you think? i promise this is going to get interesting soon; i'm trying to establish my characters, and all that good stuff.
i would love some feedback on this story- i thought it would be cool to make up a human character from mordor. so tell me what you think! PLEASE!!!!
