Note and disclaimer: This chapter was written by two other members of the role-playing game; Toketee7 and Quenture_Sindarusce. The poems in this chapter come from One Hundred Best Poems for Boys and Girls, and The Young Folks' Treasury. I own nothing in this chapter. Elrelad helped with the editing of this chapter to prepare it for uploading. And, now, without further ado, the next chapter. Locations in the story, as well as all recognizable names of people or events mentioned in the tale, were created by J.R.R. Tolkien.
Chapter Two
Quenture and Toketee
"Dark brown is the river,
Golden is the sand,
It flows along forever,
With trees on either hand."
A crystal voice filled the woods with a ribbon of song, rising and falling to the music of the stream. Sadness blended with joy, in an unexplainable way.
"Green leaves are floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating-
When will all come home?"
Sitting beside the Mering Stream a dark haired-maid sang, scattering the leaves and petals of a yellow flower into the Mering's swift flow.
"On goes the river,
Out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill."
At her side a horse docilely grazed, happy and content in his mistress's voice. Birds alighted on his back and shoulders, a rabbit nestled in her lap.
"Away goes the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other elfin children
I charge you, bring my boats ashore."
When the song ended, the woods returned to their habitual calm. Toketee called to Chevaux, and obediently he came. Plucking another yellow flower from the lawn beside her, she placed it behind the buckskin's ear. With the rabbit still in her arms she rose and entered the shadowy eaves of the forest.
Calling to Chevaux, Toketee wandered into the shade of Firien. Her step falling gently on the soft, mossy earth. The forest was still damp and shimmering with the early morning's crystal dewfall. Chevaux whickered softly as Toketee stroked his soft muzzle as they made their way through the wood. "Shall we go down to Halifirien today My Love?" she asked the horse, her brows furrowed in a comical fashion when she addressed the horse. Chevaux nodded furiously and stamped a foot as if in agreement.
Toketee laughed lightly, her voice lilting and tumbling like the waters of the Mering, which flowed on only a few paces behind them. She knew Chevaux favored the oats at the inn where she traditionally stopped at on her way through the town.
"I'm sorry dear, but I doubt we will stop at the inn today, although perhaps we may lodge there for the night, if we travel too slowly- and if you ask very nicely."
Chevaux let out a mighty whuffle and stamped again. Toketee laughed again. "If you really insist, I'll think on it." She turned and led him on through the woods for apiece, halted, turned, and leapt lightly onto his back. He turned and cut his way through the green trees down toward the Great West Road.
Quenture rode at a fine pace on the Great West Road, driving Galen, her stallion, on and petting the furry head of Yulme, her cat, as he rode in a basket beside her. She paused suddenly as a horse and rider emerged from the trees nearby.
"Greetings, friend, and well met. My name is Quenture Sindarusce, and this is Galen and Yulme. What brings you to travel on this road?"
Toketee called Chevaux to a cautious halt. For a moment she sat on his back, uncertain if she waned to reply to the surprise visitor.
Quenture smiled at the girl's hesitation. "That's a beautiful animal you have there."
"Hello Quenture," she said at length. "This is Chevaux. He is my faithful friend through many adventures."
Quenture kept smiling. "Well, now I know his name, but what is yours? Don't worry, I don't kill people that are so polite and ride such fine horses, and anyone that calls themselves an adventurer automatically gets the benefit of the doubt. I'm one myself, you could say."
Toketee's brows furrowed again in their comical fashion, and then she smiled. "I did not think you would kill me. Thank you for admiring my old friend so kindly. My name is Toketee to some, and to others it is another, but you may call me Toketee, for now."
Quenture nodded to her, "Thank you for your name, my friend. I know it is a fine gift in itself, one of trust, and not easily parted with. What brings you to travel on this road? I would have you ride with me awhile and we could speak at length, if you'd like. It has been a week since I spoke to anyone."
"Chevaux and I travel to Halifirien, and perhaps on the way there I may explain to you the reason why."
Quenture spurred Galen into a slow walk and said over her shoulder, "That sounds like a fine idea. I think I'll join you in going to Halifirien, as I've nothing better to do. I'm just wandering, at this point."
"I know that feeling well." Toketee murmured just softly enough that she hoped Quenture would not have heard. She urged Chevaux to follow along. "Why do you wander?" she asked.
Quenture shrugged. "Because I have no home save the one I cannot return to, and no purpose save the one I avoid." A taut edge in her voice warned against further following of this line of conversation.
Toketee nodded. Fully she understood the implication of Quenture's response, and wisely made no further comment. Living herself with similar mystery, which she could disclose, to no one. "Shall we race?" she asked brightly. "I know these woods well, and about two miles from here there is a large stone that overhangs the path. We could run our animals to there, and that would remove the night's boredom from their legs."
Quenture grinned happily. "Sure! But I warn you, Galen is bred from the steeds of Rohan, and..." Quenture paused, then shrugged, "I might as well tell you. He was raised to be a mount for a Ringwraith, but he wasn't mean enough. He's still magnificent, though."
Toketee paused for a moment, her breath caught in her throat. Swallowing the misgiving that dared her to break away from the large black and his rider. Her hand moved as if to block a blow from above, the terrible memory haunted her still. Glancing above, the blue sky and feathery clouds smiled down at her, and so the compulsion turned to a merry wave up to the sky. She laughed, and turned to Quenture once again. "Do you want a head start?" she asked.
Quenture laughed back. "That's all right, but thank you for the offer. You and I aren't that old, are we Galen?" Quenture had not missed the reaction to her words, but the reaction did not surprise her. It was, if anything, milder than she expected, but she was thankful for the lack of following questions.
"Come up next to me, and say 'Go' when you're ready!"
Toketee giggled again. She urged Chevaux to Galen's side and shouted, "GO!" Chevaux needed no urging. He fully understood and made a fast break away, glorying in the race, his long black mane and tail streaming out behind his golden body. Toketee simply clung to his back and let him run. After all, running was his favorite hobby.
Quenture spurred Galen on, laughing wildly as he matched Chevaux's pace. Suddenly and without warning, Galen let out a shrieking whinny and pushed hard into the horse by his side. He snapped at Chevaux's neck savagely and Quenture drew up suddenly, shouting at him and yanking on his reigns. Yulme was meowing angrily, and Quenture was breathing hard, near tears.
Chevaux screamed and froze. Toketee glanced back at Quenture and the black, terror etched on her face. For a fleeting moment, she saw the rider as she had seen another once before, panting, or snuffling loudly, the black stallion beneath threatening and pawing. She shut her eyes, and tried to erase the image, but Chevaux tore off, nearly leaving her to hang suspended in the air. Instinctively she clung to his mane as she had done before, and on he ran, the gash in his neck oozing blood on her white skin, and blowing into her eyes.
Quenture was furious. "Galen! How could you do such a thing? Toketee, wait!" Quenture dismounted and tied Galen to a nearby tree, then walked down the road after the galloping horse and rider. Perhaps if she approached without Galen, some trust could be regained. Idiot horse. Why did he have to do such a thing? Now the girl would be convinced she was dangerous...she'd had a bad time of it before with the Ringwraiths...this wouldn't help the establishment of trust...
Toketee's eyes stung, the wind whistled loudly, and Quenture may have shouted, but when she looked back the world was stained red, and her own hair impaired her sight. She turned back and wrapped her short arms around Chevaux's neck, trying to calm him. "Easy my love, easy. Galen is not a bad one. Nor is his mistress. Easy...easy.... Calm my dear, calm..." Softly she began to murmur the tune she so long ago had started to sing for him. The words flowing softly into his ears.
Quenture stood miserably in the road, then turned and yelled at Galen again. "Stupid horse! I told her you weren't mean! Now how do I seem? Why'd I ever take you with me when I ran?"
Softly Toketee continued to sing, her voice barely rising above the whistling of the wind.
"The night will never stay,
The night will still go by,
though with a million stars
you pin it to the sky
though you bind it with the blowing wind
and buckle it with the moon
And buckle it with the moon,
the night will slip away
Like sorrow or a tune."
Chevaux's pace slowed, and he whickered as if in apology. Toketee slipped to the earth, and planted herself before him.
Quenture began to approach slowly. "Toketee?" She said softly, not wanting to startle the girl.
"Hello..." she replied shyly. She stepped to the left of Chevaux, so he stood between herself and Quenture- just in case, though she doubted Quenture meant to further molest her.
Quenture looked upset and ashamed. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea he'd do that--he's never done anything like that before. I swear he didn't make the cut for the Nazgul. He was in the stables waiting to be made into stew for the Orcs...I had to take him. I never meant to hurt you, or your beautiful horse. I have some herbs and bandages. Can I help you with him?"
"No, no..." Toketee shuddered as she passed a hand over the wound. It looked worse than she had expected. "Well, perhaps yes. Your horse has wonderful teeth." She tried to sound lighthearted, but seeing Quenture's face, she knew it was useless to try and cheer her, unless it was by showing that her trust was not entirely lost.
Quenture began to dress his wounds, speaking to him in calming Quenya. He whickered, but stayed still as she finished putting salve on and bandaging. "There, it won't bleed now, and will heal quickly. Oh, Toketee, I'm so sorry!"
"We've had some frightening experiences before with black horses...But he'll be alright. Might be a little jumpy for a while...." She shook her head, and wrapped an arm around the horse's neck. "It wasn't your fault-" She began, but her voice broke. "Yes Quenture. It'll be alright." She finally said. "Shall we return to your horse? He probably should not be left back there, alone..." again her voice trailed into silence.
Angrily, Quenture said, "I suppose, but I'm furious with him. I feel so terrible about any past experiences you've had...I developed the breed for Sauron and trained them, so I've got cause to feel terrible." With that, Quenture turned and walked back over towards Galen.
Dumbfounded, Toketee gazed after Quenture. How could she have ever been entangled with the Dark Lord? So many of Middle Earth's people carried so many mysteries, so may secrets. She fondled the silver chain around her neck and smiled faintly. She mounted Chevaux, and urged him slowly to follow Quenture. He was reluctant, but obeyed.
Quenture put Yulme in his basket and fastened his collar to the lead tied to the basket. She mounted Galen, still hissing at him, and turned to face Toketee. Smiling wanly at her, she said, "I'm sure you have many questions, and I don't blame you. For the insult to your horse and to you, I owe you more of my story, I think, although I do not wish to bore you."
"You would not bore me, though, you do not owe me anything, Quenture. You dressed his wound beautifully, and I hold nothing against you, or Galen. Some secrets are better ignored and unspoken until the time is ripe to tell them." She smiled, and turned to lead the way down to Halifirien.
Quenture smiled. "Thank you for your understanding. I think I'd like to tell you some of it, though. It has been a long time since I could share my pain with anyone." She started to follow Toketee, keeping well enough away from her and her horse, still not trusting Galen.
"Very well. If it would help you, you can gnaw on my ear as much as you like-- though I may yelp a little if you bite too hard." She laughed, and glanced to see if Quenture was yet able to laugh.
Quenture lightened up and laughed a bit. "My story is just one of bad timing and bad choices, I suppose. Just worse than the other's. I'll be as brief as possible, and then you can choose to trust me or not.
Quenture let out a sigh. "I am very old, dear. I'm Calaquendi, my father was Ingwe...that'll date a girl quicker than anything. Galadriel and I played with dolls together, before we grew up and went our ever-so-separate ways. Not that she was the Valar's darling, either, for her choices..." Quenture got a far off look in her eyes.
"Anyway, I was more of a...handpicked rebel, you might say. When the Vanyar were living in the light of the two trees, I was very young, the equivalent of, I suppose, a human teenager. I was very much in love with a fine Vanyar man named Pityon and he with me. We were going to marry and dwell in that perfect light forever. All of my people had silly plans like that. That all changed, of course, when Melkor began to move among the elves.
"We Vanyar were too preoccupied with ourselves to listen much to his sweet tongue and gentle ways...to jump ahead a bit...well, Strider, my theory is that I was born more evil than most are born. We're all born evil, you know...just depends on whether we decide to rise above it or not. I just had a harder time with the rising, I suppose. I was a stubborn, spirited elven princess with a deep vein of bothersome evil, and I was an easy target, I suppose. So one day when I was alone in the forest, I had a surprise visitor. He was a terribly handsome elf with black hair, and black eyes, and white skin. I think I knew who he was immediately, and the fact that I didn't turn and leave right then is further proof of my bad nature.
"He smiled and said, 'Hello, Quenture. I'm so glad to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you, you see.'
"I asked him 'Where is it that you've heard about me from?'
"He answered, 'I've heard your name whispered on the wind that rushes past my door at midnight.'
"I smiled arrogantly and said, 'And what does the wind tell you, friend?'
"He smiled back and said, 'It tells me that you are both strong and beautiful, full of wiles and useful to my purposes, and it tells me that you will serve me well, both now and in the future.'"
She took a deep breath and continued. "I began to say that I would serve no one, when he interrupted me and said, 'You will do as I say, Quenture Sindarusce.'
"I was furious, of course, and said, 'Or you will do what, Melkor?'
"He was not surprised that I knew him, of course. He shrugged. 'I make no threats, nor do I make any promises. You are not one to be swayed by either, and there is no greed in you that I can play upon save one--the greed for leaving this cage, this glimmering Paradise, and seeing if the stupid light of those two trees is really all there is to immortality. You're bored, Quenture, and all the light and life in all the ages won't stop that. Pityon won't stop it, either. You love him, yes, but he can't understand your boredom.'
"I was entranced by him, his power, his handsome closeness, and the way he knew my innermost thoughts. It seemed so true, everything he said. I was bored...immortality of singing happy little songs and basking in the light of those trees seemed unbearable.
"I had a great desire in me to kill and cause fear, one that I hardly allowed myself to recognize, one that was unheard of among my people at such a time and place. Pityon I loved, but he was perfectly content, and some days I longed to scream at him, to try to wake him from the trance that everyone seemed to be in. Sometimes I wonder if what Melkor did was really for the worst, Toketee. So many have suffered, but I swear that is what it was before he came, a trance. The Valar kept us almost as mute, pretty pets...but now I'm blaspheming, not that I haven't done that before.
"Well," Quenture continued, "Melkor came very close to me and said, 'I can see inside you, Quenture, and I take back what I said. I will make one promise. You'll enjoy it, what I have you do for me. It is in your nature to enjoy it.' He kissed me then--odd, isn't it, that you're sitting here with a woman that Melkor kissed? It gets odder, I think...he kissed me on the lips, and I don't remember how long I stood there like a ninny and got kissed, because I had this marvelous rushing feeling in my skull. I think it was his evil bringing mine to the surface, actually, not that it matters. He pulled away then, and smiled and said, 'Good girl. Go home and say goodbye. You're leaving with the Noldor.' Then he turned and melted into the forest. This was when the Noldor rebelled, you see. They were leaving, and the Valar had made it clear that whoever left was gone for good, and they oughtn't to expect any help, either. So I went home and told my father and mother where I was going.
"I told them I was going because I was bored and wanted adventure, which was partially true. They cried at first and tried to convince me to stay, but turned stony hearts to me when I finally made it clear I meant to go. Then I went to Pityon. He knew my reasons for going, at least the ones I was going to use as excuses, and he also knew that they weren't enough to make me go. He asked why I was going, really, and I said to him, 'There are other places I must go and other people I must be with, Pityon. It is written in my blood and on my face, and you know it as well as I.' Pityon said nothing to deter me, because he knew that what I said was true, even if he didn't know why I said it at this particular time.
"Pityon simply said goodbye to me, and wished me luck, and promised me all his love until the end of forever. He told me that he would be waiting for me when I came back, a ridiculous thought, as I could never go back, and we both knew it. I made no promises to Pityon, and I hate myself for that to this day. I think, truly, that it was the most evil thing I have ever done. I simply embraced him and left. I didn't even kiss him, my Pityon."
Quenture paused, trying to regain control over her shaking voice, shamed by the tears on her face.
Quenture continued, "So I left with the Noldor. I was there for the slaughter of the Teleri, and the battles, all of them. I was there for everything. The long years of suffering in Middle Earth, forsaken along with the Noldor.
"They were the worst years for the elves, I think, those in Middle Earth, but not the worst for me. Those were yet to come. Melkor left me alone, entirely alone. He never gave me one order, never told me one thing. In fact, I never spoke to him again, and only saw him once more, at the battlefield during the Great Battle, when the shape of everything was changed forever. Pityon was among the Vanyar that had come to fight. I saw him, only once, before we were swept apart by the battle, but he did not see me. Just as well, I suppose. He went back to Valinor, then, and that's where he is to this day, waiting for the evil woman that made no promises to him, the poor fool. And I'm no better, thinking I'll go back to him again, someday."
Quenture laughed then, a barking laugh full of pain and self-mocking. "I wandered. I put in time everywhere. From Numenor, Rivendell, Mirkwood, and Lothlorien: I know people just about everywhere. Those many years of wandering will just about assure you of that. I knew people from those dark years...Galadriel and Celeborn, Elrond...and I met people as they happened. But I'm not surprised that no one mentions me. I've always been the odd one out. No one really knew why I had left Valinor, or what I was doing, or where I fit in to the scheme of things. The others have homes and grand titles and are well respected here, but I've always been the poor relation, I suppose you could say. I don't blame them, their fight was never really my own, even if I did fight it.
"I'm Vanyar, you see...there was a bigger gap between Vanyar and everyone else than the old stories detail. I'm not especially close to any of them, anyway. I prefer the company of mortals, who don't require much commitment on my part. Told you I was evil...anyway, if any of them knew what I've really been doing the last century or so, I'd be killed on sight rather than politely given the worse of the two guest rooms, if you know what I mean.
"Well, after Melkor was taken care of, I thought I was pretty much free. Didn't have a master anymore, per-se, even though he seemed to have forgotten about me. I really thought I had heard the last of it. I breathed easier, then, comforting, I suppose that I wasn't sorry Melkor hadn't used me as a tool of evil.
"But all he cared about was evil, and he was cunning and far-sighted. Even if he wasn't there to enjoy it, he wanted to insure lots of evil left behind. There was Sauron, of course...I think you know that. And I was apparently on the omnipotent evil inventory sheet that Melkor left behind for Sauron, part of an everlasting chain of contingencies and extra chances at screwing up life for everyone else alive. Now, pardon me if I seem to get off the subject for a few minutes, but this is recent history now, so I'll be more detailed. Recent histories meaning the last three hundred years, you understand. About three hundred years ago, I was bathing in a forest pool when this idiot dwarf who couldn't have been much older than the human equivalent of 20-something wandered into view.
"He saw me and stopped dead in his tracks, jaw nearly on the ground. I was in a bad mood that day, and I'm a fairly modest person anyway, so I was out of the pool, cloaked, and holding a dagger to his throat before he could blink more than twice. He started stammering apologies and was just so sincere and so in awe of this strange elven woman, that I knew I had to either kill him right there or love him until he died, and for some reason I chose the later. I married him and he endured great ridicule from his family and friends, but they eventually shut up on account of my temper and sword, and I made him deliriously happy until he died, and he did the same for me. A dwarf, can you believe it?
"He gave me the happiest years of my life since I'd realized I was bored in Valinor, the happiest years hands down. If he hadn't made me so happy, I'd have been downright ashamed of loving a dwarf, but it's too late now. When he died, about a hundred years ago, I started wandering again. I eventually wandered to Rohan and took up with this absolutely gorgeous horse-breeder there. That man was...."
Quenture trailed off, stopped completely, and was silent for several moments. She then cleared her throat loudly and started again. "Never mind. But we had a fine few years, and I learned a lot about horses. Then one night we had a terrible fight, not the first, as our relationship was shallow to the point of banality...no, wait, it was banal...
"Anyway, I took his finest horse, a great black breeding male, and rode away. I was back the next day, ready to forgive and forget, but I was greeted by a ruined house, slaughtered horses, and an exceedingly dead lover. And some Orcs. And Sauron. He smiled at me as I stood there in shocked silence and said, 'Ah, you must be Quenture Sindarusce. I always knew you'd come in handy some day. Come along, please.' I wouldn't have come, had the Orcs not overpowered me and tied me up, then set me on that great black horse and led me to Mordor, where I, as I believe I said before, have just come from.
"My job was a simple one-using the horse I'd taken from Rohan and other fine black horses, also stolen from Rohan by raiding Orcs, I was to train them for violence and corruption and pure evil. Unfortunately, I enjoyed my work. I did not enjoy my living quarters, and I did not enjoy staving off Orcs day and night, but I enjoyed my work. The animals were beautiful, and they were equally beautiful when they were made totally evil by my careful training and breeding. I never knew exactly what Sauron wanted the horses for, but I knew they were important. He came one day to check on my work, only the second time I'd ever seen him, and declared the creatures fit. The breeding was just taken over by Orcs and thralls, then. I'm sure you are familiar enough with their true use. Then Sauron bade me come with him.
"It really doesn't work, though, me as a foil for evil, since I'm evil myself, I think...I don't know. "
Quenture stretched and patted Yulme. "I'm coming to the end now, I promise. I need to tell you the end of my story, or the end thus far. My motivation, you could say. Like I said, I came to Sauron because I had nothing better to do, because the evil in me had become accustomed to having evil around me. I stayed on as his consort because something in me that wasn't evil made me stay. I hated him, I really did, but I didn't only stay for the evil company. I stayed to hear everything I could possibly hear, and learn everything I could possibly learn.
"And when I felt that I had done that, and could serve no useful purpose to anyone but Sauron if I stayed longer, I left. I went down to the stables that held my creations and I took a horse that hadn't made the cut, a horse that had been bred from a line of evil, but it just hadn't taken. It happened, once in a while. Some horses are just nice, I guess...anyway, I took one that was being saved for Saturday's Orc Stew and named him Galen, and off we went. The conceited old fool didn't keep me with locks or spells, he thought I stayed for the pleasure of his company. Yulme was a present from Sauron on my birthday some three years ago, a pretty kitten he conjured up for his bored elven princess...He was my only salvation, weren't you, darling? That was so long ago, though.
"That was so long ago, though. There has been a great triumph for good now, since the War of the Rings... still, I live every day in fear that evil will come again for me, to collect its dues."
Toketee sat silently on Chevaux, not knowing what to say or how to respond. Though from the first moment she had met Quenture, she had sensed something peculiar about her, she hadn't even begun to think about how deep Quenture's past could actually reach. It was mind-boggling to think really.
"I think-" she began, "I think you would not be evil, if consciously you chose not to be.
"For like the winds of the sea
Are the ways of fate
As we voyage along through life.
'Tis the set of the soul
That decides the goal,
And not the calm or strife."
"If you really desire to be righteous, when you think you have been called to be evil- choose life- always, choose life. You cannot change yesterday. Tomorrow is fresh with no mistakes- the power to err or live is in your hands." Then knowing what she must do, Toketee called Chevaux to a halt with a soft word, dismounted, and approached Quenture. She placed a warm hand on her knee and looked up into Quenture's eyes. "As long as I may, if you will have it, I will help you Quenture. I offer you my friendship, and my trust."
Quenture squeezed Toketee's hand, her eyes full of tears. "Oh, Toketee, I can still feel the kiss of Melkor. Some days the evil rushing in my veins, wakened by him, is all I want to feel. Please, help me, and be my friend. I will treasure these gifts of yours with all my heart, and you have my trust and friendship in return." She smiled wanly and said, "It has been a long time since I had a true friend."
"O who will walk a mile with me,
Along Life's merry way?
A comrade blithe and full of glee,
Who dares to laugh out loud and free,
And let his frolic fancy play,
Like a happy child, through the flowers gay.
That fill the field and fringe the way
Where he walks a mile with me.
And who, will walk a mile with me
Along Life's weary way?
A friend whose heart has eyes to see
The stars shine out o'er the darkening lea,
And the quiet rest at the end of the day-
A friend who knows, and dares to say,
The brave, sweet words that cheer the way
Where he walks a mile with me.
With such a comerade, such a friend,
I fain would walk till journy's end,
Through summer sunshine, winter rain,
And then- Farewell, we shall meet again."
Toketee smiled up at Quenture.
"I will walk to the journey's end with you- if it may be permitted. Though life is uncertain, and the way grow dim, I will surely stay." Toketee broke away from Quenture and leapt lightly onto Chevaux once again. "Come now friend. Let us go down to Halfirien. I promised Chevaux some oats, and I always keep my promises." She said with a smile, and lead the way down the western road to the town.
Quenture smiled, enjoying the cheer and singing of Toketee. "You're so right! Let's go!"
Chapter Two
Quenture and Toketee
"Dark brown is the river,
Golden is the sand,
It flows along forever,
With trees on either hand."
A crystal voice filled the woods with a ribbon of song, rising and falling to the music of the stream. Sadness blended with joy, in an unexplainable way.
"Green leaves are floating,
Castles of the foam,
Boats of mine a-boating-
When will all come home?"
Sitting beside the Mering Stream a dark haired-maid sang, scattering the leaves and petals of a yellow flower into the Mering's swift flow.
"On goes the river,
Out past the mill,
Away down the valley,
Away down the hill."
At her side a horse docilely grazed, happy and content in his mistress's voice. Birds alighted on his back and shoulders, a rabbit nestled in her lap.
"Away goes the river,
A hundred miles or more,
Other elfin children
I charge you, bring my boats ashore."
When the song ended, the woods returned to their habitual calm. Toketee called to Chevaux, and obediently he came. Plucking another yellow flower from the lawn beside her, she placed it behind the buckskin's ear. With the rabbit still in her arms she rose and entered the shadowy eaves of the forest.
Calling to Chevaux, Toketee wandered into the shade of Firien. Her step falling gently on the soft, mossy earth. The forest was still damp and shimmering with the early morning's crystal dewfall. Chevaux whickered softly as Toketee stroked his soft muzzle as they made their way through the wood. "Shall we go down to Halifirien today My Love?" she asked the horse, her brows furrowed in a comical fashion when she addressed the horse. Chevaux nodded furiously and stamped a foot as if in agreement.
Toketee laughed lightly, her voice lilting and tumbling like the waters of the Mering, which flowed on only a few paces behind them. She knew Chevaux favored the oats at the inn where she traditionally stopped at on her way through the town.
"I'm sorry dear, but I doubt we will stop at the inn today, although perhaps we may lodge there for the night, if we travel too slowly- and if you ask very nicely."
Chevaux let out a mighty whuffle and stamped again. Toketee laughed again. "If you really insist, I'll think on it." She turned and led him on through the woods for apiece, halted, turned, and leapt lightly onto his back. He turned and cut his way through the green trees down toward the Great West Road.
Quenture rode at a fine pace on the Great West Road, driving Galen, her stallion, on and petting the furry head of Yulme, her cat, as he rode in a basket beside her. She paused suddenly as a horse and rider emerged from the trees nearby.
"Greetings, friend, and well met. My name is Quenture Sindarusce, and this is Galen and Yulme. What brings you to travel on this road?"
Toketee called Chevaux to a cautious halt. For a moment she sat on his back, uncertain if she waned to reply to the surprise visitor.
Quenture smiled at the girl's hesitation. "That's a beautiful animal you have there."
"Hello Quenture," she said at length. "This is Chevaux. He is my faithful friend through many adventures."
Quenture kept smiling. "Well, now I know his name, but what is yours? Don't worry, I don't kill people that are so polite and ride such fine horses, and anyone that calls themselves an adventurer automatically gets the benefit of the doubt. I'm one myself, you could say."
Toketee's brows furrowed again in their comical fashion, and then she smiled. "I did not think you would kill me. Thank you for admiring my old friend so kindly. My name is Toketee to some, and to others it is another, but you may call me Toketee, for now."
Quenture nodded to her, "Thank you for your name, my friend. I know it is a fine gift in itself, one of trust, and not easily parted with. What brings you to travel on this road? I would have you ride with me awhile and we could speak at length, if you'd like. It has been a week since I spoke to anyone."
"Chevaux and I travel to Halifirien, and perhaps on the way there I may explain to you the reason why."
Quenture spurred Galen into a slow walk and said over her shoulder, "That sounds like a fine idea. I think I'll join you in going to Halifirien, as I've nothing better to do. I'm just wandering, at this point."
"I know that feeling well." Toketee murmured just softly enough that she hoped Quenture would not have heard. She urged Chevaux to follow along. "Why do you wander?" she asked.
Quenture shrugged. "Because I have no home save the one I cannot return to, and no purpose save the one I avoid." A taut edge in her voice warned against further following of this line of conversation.
Toketee nodded. Fully she understood the implication of Quenture's response, and wisely made no further comment. Living herself with similar mystery, which she could disclose, to no one. "Shall we race?" she asked brightly. "I know these woods well, and about two miles from here there is a large stone that overhangs the path. We could run our animals to there, and that would remove the night's boredom from their legs."
Quenture grinned happily. "Sure! But I warn you, Galen is bred from the steeds of Rohan, and..." Quenture paused, then shrugged, "I might as well tell you. He was raised to be a mount for a Ringwraith, but he wasn't mean enough. He's still magnificent, though."
Toketee paused for a moment, her breath caught in her throat. Swallowing the misgiving that dared her to break away from the large black and his rider. Her hand moved as if to block a blow from above, the terrible memory haunted her still. Glancing above, the blue sky and feathery clouds smiled down at her, and so the compulsion turned to a merry wave up to the sky. She laughed, and turned to Quenture once again. "Do you want a head start?" she asked.
Quenture laughed back. "That's all right, but thank you for the offer. You and I aren't that old, are we Galen?" Quenture had not missed the reaction to her words, but the reaction did not surprise her. It was, if anything, milder than she expected, but she was thankful for the lack of following questions.
"Come up next to me, and say 'Go' when you're ready!"
Toketee giggled again. She urged Chevaux to Galen's side and shouted, "GO!" Chevaux needed no urging. He fully understood and made a fast break away, glorying in the race, his long black mane and tail streaming out behind his golden body. Toketee simply clung to his back and let him run. After all, running was his favorite hobby.
Quenture spurred Galen on, laughing wildly as he matched Chevaux's pace. Suddenly and without warning, Galen let out a shrieking whinny and pushed hard into the horse by his side. He snapped at Chevaux's neck savagely and Quenture drew up suddenly, shouting at him and yanking on his reigns. Yulme was meowing angrily, and Quenture was breathing hard, near tears.
Chevaux screamed and froze. Toketee glanced back at Quenture and the black, terror etched on her face. For a fleeting moment, she saw the rider as she had seen another once before, panting, or snuffling loudly, the black stallion beneath threatening and pawing. She shut her eyes, and tried to erase the image, but Chevaux tore off, nearly leaving her to hang suspended in the air. Instinctively she clung to his mane as she had done before, and on he ran, the gash in his neck oozing blood on her white skin, and blowing into her eyes.
Quenture was furious. "Galen! How could you do such a thing? Toketee, wait!" Quenture dismounted and tied Galen to a nearby tree, then walked down the road after the galloping horse and rider. Perhaps if she approached without Galen, some trust could be regained. Idiot horse. Why did he have to do such a thing? Now the girl would be convinced she was dangerous...she'd had a bad time of it before with the Ringwraiths...this wouldn't help the establishment of trust...
Toketee's eyes stung, the wind whistled loudly, and Quenture may have shouted, but when she looked back the world was stained red, and her own hair impaired her sight. She turned back and wrapped her short arms around Chevaux's neck, trying to calm him. "Easy my love, easy. Galen is not a bad one. Nor is his mistress. Easy...easy.... Calm my dear, calm..." Softly she began to murmur the tune she so long ago had started to sing for him. The words flowing softly into his ears.
Quenture stood miserably in the road, then turned and yelled at Galen again. "Stupid horse! I told her you weren't mean! Now how do I seem? Why'd I ever take you with me when I ran?"
Softly Toketee continued to sing, her voice barely rising above the whistling of the wind.
"The night will never stay,
The night will still go by,
though with a million stars
you pin it to the sky
though you bind it with the blowing wind
and buckle it with the moon
And buckle it with the moon,
the night will slip away
Like sorrow or a tune."
Chevaux's pace slowed, and he whickered as if in apology. Toketee slipped to the earth, and planted herself before him.
Quenture began to approach slowly. "Toketee?" She said softly, not wanting to startle the girl.
"Hello..." she replied shyly. She stepped to the left of Chevaux, so he stood between herself and Quenture- just in case, though she doubted Quenture meant to further molest her.
Quenture looked upset and ashamed. "I'm so sorry. I had no idea he'd do that--he's never done anything like that before. I swear he didn't make the cut for the Nazgul. He was in the stables waiting to be made into stew for the Orcs...I had to take him. I never meant to hurt you, or your beautiful horse. I have some herbs and bandages. Can I help you with him?"
"No, no..." Toketee shuddered as she passed a hand over the wound. It looked worse than she had expected. "Well, perhaps yes. Your horse has wonderful teeth." She tried to sound lighthearted, but seeing Quenture's face, she knew it was useless to try and cheer her, unless it was by showing that her trust was not entirely lost.
Quenture began to dress his wounds, speaking to him in calming Quenya. He whickered, but stayed still as she finished putting salve on and bandaging. "There, it won't bleed now, and will heal quickly. Oh, Toketee, I'm so sorry!"
"We've had some frightening experiences before with black horses...But he'll be alright. Might be a little jumpy for a while...." She shook her head, and wrapped an arm around the horse's neck. "It wasn't your fault-" She began, but her voice broke. "Yes Quenture. It'll be alright." She finally said. "Shall we return to your horse? He probably should not be left back there, alone..." again her voice trailed into silence.
Angrily, Quenture said, "I suppose, but I'm furious with him. I feel so terrible about any past experiences you've had...I developed the breed for Sauron and trained them, so I've got cause to feel terrible." With that, Quenture turned and walked back over towards Galen.
Dumbfounded, Toketee gazed after Quenture. How could she have ever been entangled with the Dark Lord? So many of Middle Earth's people carried so many mysteries, so may secrets. She fondled the silver chain around her neck and smiled faintly. She mounted Chevaux, and urged him slowly to follow Quenture. He was reluctant, but obeyed.
Quenture put Yulme in his basket and fastened his collar to the lead tied to the basket. She mounted Galen, still hissing at him, and turned to face Toketee. Smiling wanly at her, she said, "I'm sure you have many questions, and I don't blame you. For the insult to your horse and to you, I owe you more of my story, I think, although I do not wish to bore you."
"You would not bore me, though, you do not owe me anything, Quenture. You dressed his wound beautifully, and I hold nothing against you, or Galen. Some secrets are better ignored and unspoken until the time is ripe to tell them." She smiled, and turned to lead the way down to Halifirien.
Quenture smiled. "Thank you for your understanding. I think I'd like to tell you some of it, though. It has been a long time since I could share my pain with anyone." She started to follow Toketee, keeping well enough away from her and her horse, still not trusting Galen.
"Very well. If it would help you, you can gnaw on my ear as much as you like-- though I may yelp a little if you bite too hard." She laughed, and glanced to see if Quenture was yet able to laugh.
Quenture lightened up and laughed a bit. "My story is just one of bad timing and bad choices, I suppose. Just worse than the other's. I'll be as brief as possible, and then you can choose to trust me or not.
Quenture let out a sigh. "I am very old, dear. I'm Calaquendi, my father was Ingwe...that'll date a girl quicker than anything. Galadriel and I played with dolls together, before we grew up and went our ever-so-separate ways. Not that she was the Valar's darling, either, for her choices..." Quenture got a far off look in her eyes.
"Anyway, I was more of a...handpicked rebel, you might say. When the Vanyar were living in the light of the two trees, I was very young, the equivalent of, I suppose, a human teenager. I was very much in love with a fine Vanyar man named Pityon and he with me. We were going to marry and dwell in that perfect light forever. All of my people had silly plans like that. That all changed, of course, when Melkor began to move among the elves.
"We Vanyar were too preoccupied with ourselves to listen much to his sweet tongue and gentle ways...to jump ahead a bit...well, Strider, my theory is that I was born more evil than most are born. We're all born evil, you know...just depends on whether we decide to rise above it or not. I just had a harder time with the rising, I suppose. I was a stubborn, spirited elven princess with a deep vein of bothersome evil, and I was an easy target, I suppose. So one day when I was alone in the forest, I had a surprise visitor. He was a terribly handsome elf with black hair, and black eyes, and white skin. I think I knew who he was immediately, and the fact that I didn't turn and leave right then is further proof of my bad nature.
"He smiled and said, 'Hello, Quenture. I'm so glad to finally meet you. I've heard so much about you, you see.'
"I asked him 'Where is it that you've heard about me from?'
"He answered, 'I've heard your name whispered on the wind that rushes past my door at midnight.'
"I smiled arrogantly and said, 'And what does the wind tell you, friend?'
"He smiled back and said, 'It tells me that you are both strong and beautiful, full of wiles and useful to my purposes, and it tells me that you will serve me well, both now and in the future.'"
She took a deep breath and continued. "I began to say that I would serve no one, when he interrupted me and said, 'You will do as I say, Quenture Sindarusce.'
"I was furious, of course, and said, 'Or you will do what, Melkor?'
"He was not surprised that I knew him, of course. He shrugged. 'I make no threats, nor do I make any promises. You are not one to be swayed by either, and there is no greed in you that I can play upon save one--the greed for leaving this cage, this glimmering Paradise, and seeing if the stupid light of those two trees is really all there is to immortality. You're bored, Quenture, and all the light and life in all the ages won't stop that. Pityon won't stop it, either. You love him, yes, but he can't understand your boredom.'
"I was entranced by him, his power, his handsome closeness, and the way he knew my innermost thoughts. It seemed so true, everything he said. I was bored...immortality of singing happy little songs and basking in the light of those trees seemed unbearable.
"I had a great desire in me to kill and cause fear, one that I hardly allowed myself to recognize, one that was unheard of among my people at such a time and place. Pityon I loved, but he was perfectly content, and some days I longed to scream at him, to try to wake him from the trance that everyone seemed to be in. Sometimes I wonder if what Melkor did was really for the worst, Toketee. So many have suffered, but I swear that is what it was before he came, a trance. The Valar kept us almost as mute, pretty pets...but now I'm blaspheming, not that I haven't done that before.
"Well," Quenture continued, "Melkor came very close to me and said, 'I can see inside you, Quenture, and I take back what I said. I will make one promise. You'll enjoy it, what I have you do for me. It is in your nature to enjoy it.' He kissed me then--odd, isn't it, that you're sitting here with a woman that Melkor kissed? It gets odder, I think...he kissed me on the lips, and I don't remember how long I stood there like a ninny and got kissed, because I had this marvelous rushing feeling in my skull. I think it was his evil bringing mine to the surface, actually, not that it matters. He pulled away then, and smiled and said, 'Good girl. Go home and say goodbye. You're leaving with the Noldor.' Then he turned and melted into the forest. This was when the Noldor rebelled, you see. They were leaving, and the Valar had made it clear that whoever left was gone for good, and they oughtn't to expect any help, either. So I went home and told my father and mother where I was going.
"I told them I was going because I was bored and wanted adventure, which was partially true. They cried at first and tried to convince me to stay, but turned stony hearts to me when I finally made it clear I meant to go. Then I went to Pityon. He knew my reasons for going, at least the ones I was going to use as excuses, and he also knew that they weren't enough to make me go. He asked why I was going, really, and I said to him, 'There are other places I must go and other people I must be with, Pityon. It is written in my blood and on my face, and you know it as well as I.' Pityon said nothing to deter me, because he knew that what I said was true, even if he didn't know why I said it at this particular time.
"Pityon simply said goodbye to me, and wished me luck, and promised me all his love until the end of forever. He told me that he would be waiting for me when I came back, a ridiculous thought, as I could never go back, and we both knew it. I made no promises to Pityon, and I hate myself for that to this day. I think, truly, that it was the most evil thing I have ever done. I simply embraced him and left. I didn't even kiss him, my Pityon."
Quenture paused, trying to regain control over her shaking voice, shamed by the tears on her face.
Quenture continued, "So I left with the Noldor. I was there for the slaughter of the Teleri, and the battles, all of them. I was there for everything. The long years of suffering in Middle Earth, forsaken along with the Noldor.
"They were the worst years for the elves, I think, those in Middle Earth, but not the worst for me. Those were yet to come. Melkor left me alone, entirely alone. He never gave me one order, never told me one thing. In fact, I never spoke to him again, and only saw him once more, at the battlefield during the Great Battle, when the shape of everything was changed forever. Pityon was among the Vanyar that had come to fight. I saw him, only once, before we were swept apart by the battle, but he did not see me. Just as well, I suppose. He went back to Valinor, then, and that's where he is to this day, waiting for the evil woman that made no promises to him, the poor fool. And I'm no better, thinking I'll go back to him again, someday."
Quenture laughed then, a barking laugh full of pain and self-mocking. "I wandered. I put in time everywhere. From Numenor, Rivendell, Mirkwood, and Lothlorien: I know people just about everywhere. Those many years of wandering will just about assure you of that. I knew people from those dark years...Galadriel and Celeborn, Elrond...and I met people as they happened. But I'm not surprised that no one mentions me. I've always been the odd one out. No one really knew why I had left Valinor, or what I was doing, or where I fit in to the scheme of things. The others have homes and grand titles and are well respected here, but I've always been the poor relation, I suppose you could say. I don't blame them, their fight was never really my own, even if I did fight it.
"I'm Vanyar, you see...there was a bigger gap between Vanyar and everyone else than the old stories detail. I'm not especially close to any of them, anyway. I prefer the company of mortals, who don't require much commitment on my part. Told you I was evil...anyway, if any of them knew what I've really been doing the last century or so, I'd be killed on sight rather than politely given the worse of the two guest rooms, if you know what I mean.
"Well, after Melkor was taken care of, I thought I was pretty much free. Didn't have a master anymore, per-se, even though he seemed to have forgotten about me. I really thought I had heard the last of it. I breathed easier, then, comforting, I suppose that I wasn't sorry Melkor hadn't used me as a tool of evil.
"But all he cared about was evil, and he was cunning and far-sighted. Even if he wasn't there to enjoy it, he wanted to insure lots of evil left behind. There was Sauron, of course...I think you know that. And I was apparently on the omnipotent evil inventory sheet that Melkor left behind for Sauron, part of an everlasting chain of contingencies and extra chances at screwing up life for everyone else alive. Now, pardon me if I seem to get off the subject for a few minutes, but this is recent history now, so I'll be more detailed. Recent histories meaning the last three hundred years, you understand. About three hundred years ago, I was bathing in a forest pool when this idiot dwarf who couldn't have been much older than the human equivalent of 20-something wandered into view.
"He saw me and stopped dead in his tracks, jaw nearly on the ground. I was in a bad mood that day, and I'm a fairly modest person anyway, so I was out of the pool, cloaked, and holding a dagger to his throat before he could blink more than twice. He started stammering apologies and was just so sincere and so in awe of this strange elven woman, that I knew I had to either kill him right there or love him until he died, and for some reason I chose the later. I married him and he endured great ridicule from his family and friends, but they eventually shut up on account of my temper and sword, and I made him deliriously happy until he died, and he did the same for me. A dwarf, can you believe it?
"He gave me the happiest years of my life since I'd realized I was bored in Valinor, the happiest years hands down. If he hadn't made me so happy, I'd have been downright ashamed of loving a dwarf, but it's too late now. When he died, about a hundred years ago, I started wandering again. I eventually wandered to Rohan and took up with this absolutely gorgeous horse-breeder there. That man was...."
Quenture trailed off, stopped completely, and was silent for several moments. She then cleared her throat loudly and started again. "Never mind. But we had a fine few years, and I learned a lot about horses. Then one night we had a terrible fight, not the first, as our relationship was shallow to the point of banality...no, wait, it was banal...
"Anyway, I took his finest horse, a great black breeding male, and rode away. I was back the next day, ready to forgive and forget, but I was greeted by a ruined house, slaughtered horses, and an exceedingly dead lover. And some Orcs. And Sauron. He smiled at me as I stood there in shocked silence and said, 'Ah, you must be Quenture Sindarusce. I always knew you'd come in handy some day. Come along, please.' I wouldn't have come, had the Orcs not overpowered me and tied me up, then set me on that great black horse and led me to Mordor, where I, as I believe I said before, have just come from.
"My job was a simple one-using the horse I'd taken from Rohan and other fine black horses, also stolen from Rohan by raiding Orcs, I was to train them for violence and corruption and pure evil. Unfortunately, I enjoyed my work. I did not enjoy my living quarters, and I did not enjoy staving off Orcs day and night, but I enjoyed my work. The animals were beautiful, and they were equally beautiful when they were made totally evil by my careful training and breeding. I never knew exactly what Sauron wanted the horses for, but I knew they were important. He came one day to check on my work, only the second time I'd ever seen him, and declared the creatures fit. The breeding was just taken over by Orcs and thralls, then. I'm sure you are familiar enough with their true use. Then Sauron bade me come with him.
"It really doesn't work, though, me as a foil for evil, since I'm evil myself, I think...I don't know. "
Quenture stretched and patted Yulme. "I'm coming to the end now, I promise. I need to tell you the end of my story, or the end thus far. My motivation, you could say. Like I said, I came to Sauron because I had nothing better to do, because the evil in me had become accustomed to having evil around me. I stayed on as his consort because something in me that wasn't evil made me stay. I hated him, I really did, but I didn't only stay for the evil company. I stayed to hear everything I could possibly hear, and learn everything I could possibly learn.
"And when I felt that I had done that, and could serve no useful purpose to anyone but Sauron if I stayed longer, I left. I went down to the stables that held my creations and I took a horse that hadn't made the cut, a horse that had been bred from a line of evil, but it just hadn't taken. It happened, once in a while. Some horses are just nice, I guess...anyway, I took one that was being saved for Saturday's Orc Stew and named him Galen, and off we went. The conceited old fool didn't keep me with locks or spells, he thought I stayed for the pleasure of his company. Yulme was a present from Sauron on my birthday some three years ago, a pretty kitten he conjured up for his bored elven princess...He was my only salvation, weren't you, darling? That was so long ago, though.
"That was so long ago, though. There has been a great triumph for good now, since the War of the Rings... still, I live every day in fear that evil will come again for me, to collect its dues."
Toketee sat silently on Chevaux, not knowing what to say or how to respond. Though from the first moment she had met Quenture, she had sensed something peculiar about her, she hadn't even begun to think about how deep Quenture's past could actually reach. It was mind-boggling to think really.
"I think-" she began, "I think you would not be evil, if consciously you chose not to be.
"For like the winds of the sea
Are the ways of fate
As we voyage along through life.
'Tis the set of the soul
That decides the goal,
And not the calm or strife."
"If you really desire to be righteous, when you think you have been called to be evil- choose life- always, choose life. You cannot change yesterday. Tomorrow is fresh with no mistakes- the power to err or live is in your hands." Then knowing what she must do, Toketee called Chevaux to a halt with a soft word, dismounted, and approached Quenture. She placed a warm hand on her knee and looked up into Quenture's eyes. "As long as I may, if you will have it, I will help you Quenture. I offer you my friendship, and my trust."
Quenture squeezed Toketee's hand, her eyes full of tears. "Oh, Toketee, I can still feel the kiss of Melkor. Some days the evil rushing in my veins, wakened by him, is all I want to feel. Please, help me, and be my friend. I will treasure these gifts of yours with all my heart, and you have my trust and friendship in return." She smiled wanly and said, "It has been a long time since I had a true friend."
"O who will walk a mile with me,
Along Life's merry way?
A comrade blithe and full of glee,
Who dares to laugh out loud and free,
And let his frolic fancy play,
Like a happy child, through the flowers gay.
That fill the field and fringe the way
Where he walks a mile with me.
And who, will walk a mile with me
Along Life's weary way?
A friend whose heart has eyes to see
The stars shine out o'er the darkening lea,
And the quiet rest at the end of the day-
A friend who knows, and dares to say,
The brave, sweet words that cheer the way
Where he walks a mile with me.
With such a comerade, such a friend,
I fain would walk till journy's end,
Through summer sunshine, winter rain,
And then- Farewell, we shall meet again."
Toketee smiled up at Quenture.
"I will walk to the journey's end with you- if it may be permitted. Though life is uncertain, and the way grow dim, I will surely stay." Toketee broke away from Quenture and leapt lightly onto Chevaux once again. "Come now friend. Let us go down to Halfirien. I promised Chevaux some oats, and I always keep my promises." She said with a smile, and lead the way down the western road to the town.
Quenture smiled, enjoying the cheer and singing of Toketee. "You're so right! Let's go!"