Sequel 21
Eleanor POV
What the Valar haven't factored into their orders is the fact that there are some good reasons why Russia has never been successfully invaded.
Apart from the fact the country is huge, it is very far north and has some truly hideous weather in the winter which lasts for a long time.
In other words, they might get quite far while the weather was good for an invasion but then winter hit and only the Russians know how to survive a Russian winter. They have actually had to wear special masks to stop their breath freezing in their throats before!
As you might have guessed, we are all rather bored of the snow by now and have absolutely no interest in going and finding more winter.
So, I have to admit, we find an excuse or two to procrastinate.
For example, we take a fairly slow land route to get there and stop at interesting points along the way.
We hop across the Channel to France, drop by Paris and do everything we (me and Ginny) wanted to do there. I'm fairly sure that at least one elfin royal used or at least thought of using the romance of the place for flirting value. Anyway, then we went through Belgium, took a slight and short side trip to Denmark as Ginny and I were curious and we were all wasting time anyway. We then went on a bit of a round tour of Germany, via a large number of curious and interesting sights and then into the Czech Republic.
We then went up slightly into Poland and then down, through Slovenia and into Romania where we wanted to visit Count Dracula's castle. Yes, I know that is not a good reason to visit a good country but we enjoyed it and, as I said we were wasting a few months to allow Russia to get some good weather. We did also visit several other tourist attractions in both Romania and any other country we went through.
The last country we went through to get to Russia was Ukraine (via Kiev, of Course) and from there we went straight to Moscow.
Thankfully, since we were staying in the south western area, the weather wasn't too bad and since it was in late may by the time we got there, the temperature were at least in the positive range so there was no snow. Hallelujah!
We then went down to the "great Steppe" as I was informed that the region was called, and (due to some serious Wikipedia searching) into the region called the "Pontic-Caspian Steppes".
This region is a fairly arid area of grassland that absolutely lends itself to nomadic horsemen as shown by the fact that it wasn't until the 18th century that any non-nomadic people managed to gain control of the Region.
Courtesy of Celeborn, all our elfish wonder horses are transported to a little property (relatively speaking) we stay in just before going into the heartland of these beautiful miles and miles of grass.
If you are wondering, we wait until mid April to actually leave civilisation as we will be camping. Thankfully, this time we have rather better beds than the ones we had when Ginny, Miriel and I were running round with the Rangers.
We also stay in elfish tents rather than the modern varieties of tent and these work rather better than those due to the elves being absolutely fantastic and much better for the job. Elfin tents also help hide us so we cannot be seen, which is really useful.
We move east across the grass land which remind me heavily of rohan and I absently wonder if this was the original land in which rohan existed or if that was another place, irrevocably changed by the great floods.
As we get closer to the Kazakhstani border we finally encounter some of what we were looking for.
As we crest a hill, the crest another, coming towards us and we see them rise up out of the grass in a way a movie director would be proud of.
Actually, they look very much like marginally modernised versions of the Mongols in very many ways. Though they are not wearing helmets, they are in leather clothing that could very well be armour but looks normal enough to pass for cultural clothing instead. Their tops are sleeveless, revealing the high muscled arms of each one and they all have leather quivers and compact bows slung across their backs. The group we see is entirely male.
What surprises us most is their physical appearance. Unlike most elves, they have golden skin and dark auburn, almost black hair. When they get closer we see that they also have gold flashing eyes.
Like most elves I have seen they have their hair pulled back in braids, though theirs are fierce warrior braids which only serve to enhance the angularity of their faces. I have to admit that I am a little unnerved; this lot look like a bunch of barbarians to be honest. All they really need to complete the image is spears; they already have savage looking swords attached to their belts. A bit of woad or another type of body paint wouldn't lessen the image either.
I am eternally glad we decided to go for elfin travelling clothes and bring some of our own light armament, sabres, and bows and in my case the pointy staff.
We haven't lifted our illusions yet though, so we just look like clued up humans.
The horse men stop their beast suddenly when they see us (who have stopped on the top of the hill) before drawing their own swords and saluting us. The leader of the group then pulled out from the middle of the group and rides towards us.
He looks at us with one of those irritating unreadable expressions, obviously assessing us for later reference, before speaking and once again I am eternally glad for our magic allowing us to speak any language.
"What are a group of humans doing riding through such forbidding territory? Only us natives can survive this terrain for long."
I decide to answer for him, letting him in on our secret since he would be finding out soon anyway.
"We have more experience than you would believe, for several of us rode out with the Dunadan Rangers of the north in the third age and we have all spent much time in the wilds of Arda."
That was worth it, the look on the elf's face is an absolute classic. Being the kind person I am, I decide to explain.
"We are elves, Hir nin, and it is through the magic the Valar have granted us that we appear human."
He nods in comprehension and grins at us, looking through the group.
"I wonder, lady, if you answer why only one of your numbers seems to have chosen a less than perfect body to hide yourself in." And I though Elrond got embarrassingly close to the point at times.
"That would be Charlotte, a real human we managed to pick up and are too fond of her to drop her again. The rest of us are more than capable of keeping her well looked after."
"Come let us take food and reacquaint ourselves after millennia of the separation of our people. We were unaware that any branches of the stationary elves still lived in this world, and you interest us greatly. It is only polite for us to offer you our hospitality."
I grin, well that was a good start.
"We would welcome your hospitality, for we did not come to theses steppes for the view. Visiting your race was our sole purpose of coming here. So three days and three nights?"
He got the reference alright. If you were wondering in the Bedouin culture, hospitality and the safe of a man's tent lasts for three days and three nights. I'm not certain if that really is the case but it is in popular culture and our fire elf friend evidently got the joke.
"Our culture is a little different from that of the dessert men, lady elf."
I have to smile, he is charming, I'll give that.
That night we join the camp and are fed some of the nicest kebabs I have every tried along with some fairly strong alcohol.
Ginny and Charlotte both find it amusing when I comment that it could almost pass for a student night.
As the evening winds down (a bit) the leader of the group sits down with us to talk.
"Earlier you said that you had come here to see our people. Very few people even realise we reside here, yet elves I had thought gone from this world are here."
I am about to answer when he clearly notices something. It is clear he has noticed something because he stares at me, down at my chest region.
I had forgotten that elves could see through all our illusions at least partially (though apparently not enough to notice our true race) and one thing he can clearly see is the dawnstar necklace I still wear, though had concealed behind the illusion.
"You wear the necklace of the dawn, Hiril nin!"
"That is because I am she, Caladhiel Minuialel, the dawnstar. The daughter of Turgon, sent far away for her safety in the fall of Gondolin." As I was saying this, his eyes widen noticeably, my impish side kicks in. "About 2500 miles that way to be precise." After I said that I point in the general direction of England.
His eyes widen then after a second as he registers exactly what I said he grins then begins to laugh. It is one of those deep booming laughs that when it has started, doesn't stop.
We stay with these elves for a little while and they escorted us to the Russian-Kazakhstan border where they passed us over to another group of elves. As far as we could tell there were several little groups riding round the great steppe, particularly the more western side.
The going was slow as each group insisted on having big celebrations for us, to welcome the dawnstar. We had yet to tell them who the rest of the esteemed members of the group were, or the fact that most of us had spent most of the last several thousand years in Valinor.
We would save that surprise for when we met the main group.
'Take me to your leader!' type thing. Ginny found that comment amusing, as did Charlotte but no-one else got it.
Eventually we are told that the next day a small group of us would be taken to their leader. Really.
Anyway, off the bad sci-fi jokes.
The night before we leave we stand and watch the stars. After a while, Ginny decides to sing.
The song she sings is from Carmina Burana by Carl Orff, and is apparently the shortest love song in the world.
I siddle over to Adindel and whisper in his ear.
"That song basically translates as come and bonk me you know." Yes I can turn anything bad when I want to.
The next morning, a group of us leave with an escort of fire elves.
The group is me, my husband, both of his parents, Miriel, the peredhil twins, Erestor and Gil-galad (we decided to take him away from Adindel for obvious reasons).
In the false dawn that comes before the spectacular one we all get up and get ready before leaving with our escort.
I have to admit, I deliberately make sure the dawnstar necklace is out of my clothes and it results in a quite amusing reaction from the fire elves as they have never seen its party trick before.
Thanks only to our elfin wonder horses; it takes about an hour and a half to get to the main group which is exceptionally well concealed by the long grass and hills in the local area.
This camp is rather bigger than any we have come across before with what must be over a hundred people there, a surprising number of which are female considering the complete lack of females seen yet.
They obviously keep the women somewhere safer. Some things never change.
The leader is in the middle of the group and we are led to him. It is pretty obvious which one it is because he has a gold band round his head and two gold armbands. His clothing is rather more obviously armour than the stuff we have seen the other Ellyn wearing and he is a good foot taller than many of the other elves in the group. He also wears more ornate though still very severe braids in his hair.
He stands watching us, legs apart and fist resting on hip, totally motionless as we ride in.
After we have exchanged formal greetings he gets down to points.
"My warriors tell me that you are using magic of the Valar to conceal your true appearances. I wish to see you as you truly are." Over the time I have spent with the fire elves I have got used to their blunt spoken ways. We all drop our illusions, not bothering with drama this time, it wouldn't impress him.
This results in the first proper expression I have seen on his face. There is a flicker of surprise followed by a raised eyebrow.
"May I introduce my husband, Prince Legolas of the Sindars, King Thanduil and his wife Queen Myrwen of the Sindars, my parents in law, The brethren Elladan and Elrohir, the later of which is married to Miriel, daughter of Thanduil and Myrwen, a princess of the Sindars, Lord Erestor of the Noldor and my cousin, High King Ereinion Gil-galad of the Noldor." If you are wondering, since Mirkwood and where ever no longer exist, we say they are of the Sindars than of a specific realm.
"Quite a group, quite an interestingly mixed group in fact, Princess Caladhiel. May I enquire as to the identities of those you left behind?"
We do tell him and his face as we reveal who the complete group is, his eyes widen in total shock. I think he was not expecting that.
We spend the better part of the morning talking, though we don't bother with any of the usual polite conventions as it is obvious the fire elves don't and we get straight to the point. This shortens the conversation noticeably.
By midday he has agreed to the will of the Valar and sent out a messenger to all the roaming band which his brother, who is basically the high king of the fire elves. This one is apparently just a buffer level to deal with little things, sort of like a seneschal really. Just after he had done that, he decided to ride back with us to the rest of our group.
This is quite useful mostly because he will guide us to his brother, the king guy, as soon as we are ready.
Ginny's POV
I awaken to the feeling of soft arms around me, tenderly caressing my skin through my negligee. There is also the sensation of someone placing the lightest of butterfly kisses down my neck. I shiver from the tingling feeling it leaves on my skin and subconsciously lean back in to the embrace. The hand caressing my waist begins to travel over my front. What?
Blinking in the bright light of morning, I suddenly focus on Adindel, who's lying behind me. I think something in my face must have shown my surprise and shock at his being in the tent at all. Things have calmed somewhat between him and Gil-galad, but the latter is still intensely suspicious. Adindel leaps to his feet; it's only now that I realise that his right arm was curled over my stomach. I sit up and subconsciously try to cover myself with the bedclothes.
I think something in my face must have shown my surprise and shock at his being in the tent at all. Things have calmed somewhat between him and Gil-galad, but the latter is still intensely suspicious.
Adindel leaps to his feet; it's only now that I realise that his right arm was curled over my stomach. I sit up and subconsciously try to cover myself with the bedclothes.
Awkward silence.
"I've brought you breakfast," says Adindel, nervously playing with his hair with one hand as he indicates the tray with the other. "Hopefully it will taste better than last time."
I smile as I recollect the glutinous, grey slop that Ellie and I were presented with; whatever is in the bowl this time certainly smells very appetising.
I also recollect that this was only just after a rather infamous incident and instinctively twitch the covers higher.
Another pause.
Adindel then opens his mouth to speak again when Lottie comes into the tent.
"Come on, Ginny, time to get..." Lottie stops just inside the tent flap, surveying the scene before her.
She's closely followed by Murrlin, who immediately scampers over to me and places herself protectively on my lap. I don't think she really trusts Adindel all that much; I think it stems from the times when we used him as target practice back in Mirkwood, i.e. when I hated Adindel.
"Eat that before it gets cold." Was all Adindel had to say before hurrying out of the tent.
After watching him leave, Lottie turns back to me, her eyebrow raised. To give myself something to do, I grab the bowl and begin eating the porridge-like contents. It burns my mouth, but I can't stand Lottie looking at me the way she is.
I glance up, Lottie is still watching and waiting, her arms folded. She knows enough about elfin customs by now to know that what Adindel was doing just now was strictly against them.
"He only brought me breakfast."
"Yes, but what if I'd been Erestor?"
Hmmm – she has a point there; Adindel may have been able to square his being in my tent with most of our group, but my Adar was not one of them.
"Where is Ada?" I say, trying to keep the conversation light.
"He has gone with Gil-galad and a few others to meet with some locals to see if they know where the main group is. I promised him I'd keep an eye on you; we don't want anything to happen do we?"
Like she can talk.
Lottie leaves me now to finish eating and get dressed.
When I'm ready, I wander out of the tent and survey the scene: my sister, both sets of younger twins, Turgon, Celeborn, Adindel, and Lottie, along with some of the Fire Elves, are sitting around the large, central campfire.
They all have their cloaks tucked tightly around them for, even though it's nearing the middle of July, a fierce wind still blows across the plain.
Kazakhstan is very much like Rohan – large swathes of grassland punctuated by the odd permanent settlement.
I can see why the main group of Fire Elves chose to live here for there's masses of uninhabited land that's just perfect for their nomadic lifestyle.
The Elves we met in the Russia were just a small splinter group; the plains of Kazakhstan are where most Fire Elves live.
I wander over to the fire and sit down between Lanthi and Celeborn; Adindel is only a few places along from us, but I try not to look at him as I can tell he's trying to attract my attention.
We don't have long to wait before the others come galloping back into view.
"You didn't take long," I say to Ellie after I've hugged her in greeting.
"'The pale faced, long haired people are well known around here,'" she answers, clearly imitating one of the locals, "Apparently, the Fire Elves are a day or two's ride east from here."
So we spend the rest of the morning packing up the camp and leave after a light lunch.
When we stop to give the horses a break and drink of water, Adindel sidles over to where I'm standing slightly apart from the others, watching my horse as she bends her graceful neck to lap up the cool water. Murrlin stays well clear.
"I'm sorry if I startled you this morning; I also want to apologise for what happened in Scotland..." Adindel trails off as I turn to face him; this is the first time we've mentioned that night since it happened. Adindel clearly still feels great remorse for his actions.
"That's OK, you don't need to apologise. Nothing happened..."
"Precisely." The word is barely audible, but I still heard it. Realising what he said, Adindel immediately tries to make reparations, but keeps tripping up over his words.
I smile as he gets himself ever more muddled before taking pity on him and putting a silencing finger to his lips.
A strand of Adindel's hair has come away from his pony tail so I push it back behind his ear, gently brushing its sensitive point. Adindel inhales sharply, he then puts out his own hand in order to stroke my cheek...
A small cough behind me stops him; I don't need to turn to know who it is for I'd know Ada's diplomatic cough anywhere. It's the kind of cough he uses to make himself heard during an argument.
There's a slightly tense moment as Adindel looks at Ada, but he bows slightly and walks away.
We reach the main camp of the Fire Elves in the twilight of the next day.
They're shocked to see so many of us, but shock barely comes close to describing their faces when we lift our illusions – I think it stems mostly from there being so many Sindar and Noldor in the same group behaving so amicably towards each other, not to mention the fact that there is also a human in our midst.
Hopefully Lottie won't behave too outrageously whilst we're here – we don't want to scare the Fire Elves.
They get over their shock quite quickly however and welcome us all properly with singing, dancing, and storytelling. Despite the reason for our visit (we haven't exactly told them, but they must have worked out that this isn't a social call) the Fire Elves are extremely jovial and ply us liberally with alcohol, including this immensely strong and suspiciously clear liquid.
I think I can smell vodka as well as something not too dissimilar from the most potent of elfin liquors. Well, just the former is enough to put me off from consuming any more than a sip – I've always detested vodka. I think everyone else is put off after Elladan falls into a drunken stupor – he's only had three glasses, large ones, but still.
My law-name is not Nestawen for nothing and the next morning, I manage to revive Elladan with a cup of herbal tea infused with a powder that cures even the hardiest of hangovers.
We then all gather in the tent of Lord Urúvion and Lady Malthenniel, the rulers of the Fire Elves, and try to persuade them to return to where they belong.
At first they're reluctant, but then Legolas asks whether they've ever felt the sea-longing and everyone goes very quiet.
I notice some have closed their eyes in reverence; being in a landlocked country like Kazakhstan obviously helped delay the call of the sea, but I think it was only when someone actually mentioned it that the Fire Elves gave any real thought to sailing.
I never felt the sea-longing myself, but I remember what Legolas was like before he sailed – he was always the happy, slightly mischievous Elf I'd come to know him as, but the longing in his eyes was still evident, even to a human.
That is how the Fire Elves look now; I sense a deep longing travel throughout the group as the reason behind our visit becomes apparent.
After this, it isn't long before Lord Urúvion and Lady Malthenniel agree to begin the preparations for sailing.
The Fire Elves are going to make their own way back; for one thing, they have to contact all the splinter groups first. Also, have you any idea just how many Fire Elves there are? A party of nineteen may be able to move about relatively unnoticed – even with fifteen cats – but travelling with an entire colony of chirpy, armed-up-to-the-eyeballs fire elves is just asking for trouble.
Yes, not the most inconspicuous of sights is it?