Chapter 7: Acceptance of Darkness
Mordor marks those that live there. The inhabitants gain an unmistakable coldness and if in a lowly position they are cowed forever. Yet Valimar had been graced with high status and this was reflected as she metamorphosed under the tuition of the Lord of the Nazgul. For as the years passed and Vanaria's daughter changed from a scruffy young girl to a marble maiden. Since making her second kill the half-elf had worn a mask of indifference and this carefully concealed her thoughts and feelings. Emotion only to marred her features whilst battle training and then the blood lust would twist her beautiful visage into one of horror. The woman was frequently found in the training arena for their she could escape responsibilities that now fell too her. Stood upon that sand Vanaria's daughter was just another warrior whereas removed from the ring… then she was something much worse.
The girl had not been brought to Mordor to become a warrior. Vanaria's daughter destiny was not to become such and the dark powers could perceive this. Nor was the half-elf for the courtly life, she had no been granted no experience of the softer side. Though what her destiny was remained undecided for the thoughts of Sauron are not shared lightly. Perhaps the girl was to be a weapon for at Mordor her studies continued and not all were of an academic nature. Magic and the darker arts were taught to her, as were languages, maybe she was to be an ambassador. She was given free rein to determine her likes and dislikes and her every whim was catered for. Should she decide that she wished for furs of animals found only to the south in Harad, she was given them. But the trials that Valimar was forced to endure at Mordor are not for telling here. The granddaughter of an elven king became more spoiled, selfish, ill disciplined and quick to anger. Demon the troops called her, for with her cat eyes and quick temper like a very devil she seemed to them.
From high in a tower Valimar's tutor, the lord of Mordor, gazed down at her spending her energies in fighting. The nazgul lord almost felt a fondness' for the girl, almost, for those dark creatures cannot truly feel affection, but in her he saw a reflection of his mortal self. Even as he watched he smiled, sinisterly but without malice. Now annoyance crossed her face as stray stands of the half elf's bronze locks fell round her face, requiring restraint. Mid movement, her weapon in hand the young woman pushed the strands behind her ears, her skill was such that even when her opponent attacked with greater ferocity, during that moment of lowered concentration, she could still parry. Then eagerly the ring-wraith watched as his master's daughter disinterestedly cut her opponent. The orc she screamed in agony. Agony caused not by the severity of the scratch Valimar had inflicted on him, for the cut was shallow and far from life threatening, but from the pain caused by the weapon that wounded the fell creature. For Valimar used an elven blade. The sword had been stolen as plunder from a battle long ago, by some long dead man and had found its way into the armoury at Minas Morgul. There it lay almost forgotten until the half-elf found it and she recognised it as elvish so decided that she would bear it. As with all her demands it was swiftly acquiesced.
Lazily the lord continued to study his charge. Through his undead eyes he could view her elvish beauty and yet see the veil of darkness that conflicted with her elvish light. But from a mortal view the girl was beautiful. Her bronze hair was now habitually wore it in a plait, through which Vanaria's daughter wove barbed golden wire. These metal spikes would tear the hand of any opponent that tried to grab hold of her hair. The rumour in the garrison was that the tips were dipped in poison. "Should a gold barb scratch you you would go mad," said the soldiers to the raw recruits, that or she would, "turn into a fell beast and slay you for laying hands upon her." For the tales of her transformation had travelled with her, even if she had not accomplished the feat a second time. Valimar's eyes were almond shaped, typically elven were it not for their strange colour and slit pupil, and of perfect proportion to her face. Yet the amber colour of Vanaria's daughter's eyes appeared demonic and they marred her elven beauty creating something more alien and dangerous. The woman had the pace of a warrior and the stealth of a predator. With her slit pupils she appeared feline, something her elven grace enhanced. The men called her The Cat of Mordor or the Demon-Elf. Yet still many felt lust for her for she was beautiful if fell.
So as time came to pass the child of gentle Vanaria grew a deadly and unscrupulous murderer. Should her meal be delivered cold the server that was cuffed violently counted his blessings, the Cat had removed arms for lesser offences. Should a servant spill her wine he could be slain, or kicked,, it depended on her mood. No compassion rested upon the maiden's brow. Yet at times of stillness Valimar was drawn the heights of the Tower of Sorcery. Where, from its metal heights, she gazed at the stars filled with an unknown and unbearable longing and sadness.
One clear-skied autumnal night the temperate conditions tempted her onto the top of the tower. There, as she viewed the constellations, a westerly breeze touched her, ruffling her fine clothes and playing with her hair. She stood like an elven princess of old, her cloak spread behind her flaring in the wind, the bronze mane inherited from her mother's family rippling in the air. Her mother's ring flashed on her finger. Then for a moment the girl thought she scented salt in the air. It was an unknown perfume to her, for Valimar had always lived far from the coast, and yet as its scent invaded her being a strange longing took hold of Vanaria's daughter. She wished to go westwards.
Unbeknown to the half-elf she had an audience. From the shadows of a tower below the Lord of Mordor watched her. He was grieved that his protégé seemed elven in the starlight, not a creature of darkness and power, and the ring wraith had doubts about her suitability for the task that the Dark Lord wished the girl to accomplish. Yet a sensible servant was the present Lord of Mordor and kept his own council. As the girl awakened from her reverie, her tutor left his tower and hurried towards the half-elf, the alien hissing of his breath harsher than normal.
Valimar did not understand this strange longing for the sea that was sweeping over her but the calm she felt relaxed and comforted Vanaria's daughter. Then the wind direction shifted. The scent of the oceans vanished and was replaced by the stink of Mount Doom. Valimar snorted in disgust, drew her cloak about her and descended from the tower.
As the half-elf crossed a courtyard at a lower level a shadow moved. "Who skulks in the shadows and disturbs my peace?" Valimar questioned loudly, her temper short.
The Lord of Mordor stepped into the torchlight. "Girl," hissed the dark creature.
"Good night to you my Lord and my apologies," replied Vanaria's daughter courtesy. She had learnt that courtesy was the only way to deal with the Lord of Mordor, disrespect was not tolerated and the punishments for it terrible.
"Come," ordered the Lord of Mordor, then the creature turned and walked into the shadows. Valimar did as she was bid and followed cursing softly; she had no wish to be working now for she felt weary after her experience at the tower top.
Her guide rapidly led her through the twists and turns of the Dark tower until they came to a section that Vanaria's daughter had not discovered. From the cobwebs and dust that lay about it looked as if few ever used this passageway. Eventually her father's servant arrived at an iron door, engraved with warning runes in the black speech. Here he paused and turned to view the young woman, "You enter here girl. Watch and learn for our Lord will reveal much to you." Then the fell creature turned back to the iron door, placed his hand in the centre and muttered lowly, Valimar was unable to hear his words. The door opened inwards.
Valimar entered the room with trepidation. It was not impossible that her tutor had organised for her to be attacked as she entered. It was all part of her "training." The half-elf braced herself and narrowed her amber eyes in concentration as she prepared to meet her foe and defend herself magically.
The room was empty. It was surprisingly free of dust and grime, wholly circular and as Valimar turned to ask the Lord of Mordor is it was bespelled, she saw that the iron door through which he had entered had vanished. Question answered. The room was lined with large stones and there were no windows or torches for light, yet still the room was lit. The girl soon spotted the source of the light, it was upon a plinth in the centre of the room. Surprisingly it was covered by a faded black velvet cloth. Sensing nothing else to do Valimar strode forward and pulled the cloth from the light source. A crystal ball revealed.
Softly the half elf stepped forward looking at the ball intensely. Then standing over it she looked into it. Immediately it seemed as if the world rushed away into nothingness and then she began to make out shapes within the sphere.
Contained with the glass the girl saw Baradur in miniature and as she continued to watch the lands to the west of Mordor appeared in her vision. Valimar realised she was looking into a Seeing Stone, or Palantiri but had no time to ponder that as the vision with in the sphere changed. First the Brown Lands, with there many pools, then Rohan, where riders galloped swiftly across the plains. Then further north the crystal carried her, eventually to a tower in Mirkwood. Valimar recognised this as her one time home and viewed the place with interest.
Then she saw an eye. It was similar to her own and yet strangely different, being golden and with a slit pupil. But in the eye surrounding the iris was a ring of fire that flickered hypnotically. Still it was more alien for there were no lids to this eye, it never shut and the pupil was a slit into nothingness. No gleam of light escaped from that blackness, staring into it made the half elf feel as if she were falling, drowning, dying. All this conjured by an eye. Valimar felt a rare shudder of fear, for the young woman knew that even as she regarded it, the eye was watching her.
Through the Palantiri the eye regarded the amber-eyed half-elf and a voice rang in her head. "Daughter," the voice was majestic, noble even and yet possessed a strange sibilance as if the owner's mouth was not fully formed. The one word seemed to echo around Valimar's head, ringing constantly, lulling her, wooing her, cosseting and yet still terrible. It rang inside her head and offered the promise of delights unknown, answers to the half-elfs dreams and Valimar's greatest wish – acknowledgement.
"My Lord," whispered Valimar for there was nothing else she could say. The young woman was awed by the strength that emanated from the eye, the sense of desperation conjured in her as she gazed into the void of the pupil.
"Join me," heard Valimar. The girl bowed her head in acceptance and reverence. The voice from the Palantiri continued. "Attend me in Mirkwood. For I have much to show you before I gift you Angmar." Then there was nothing and only greyness showed in the crystal ball.
Valimar stared at the Palantiri useless for some while before softly whispering, "Father?" No answer was forthcoming. "At last," thought gentle Vanaria's daughter, "her father acknowledged her and he would grant her power!" Covering the Palantiri, the half-elf turned on her heel to find the Lord of Mordor watching her. To her surprise he bowed.
"You are my master's daugher and my lady," pronounced the Nazgul in his hissing tones.
Valimar was greatly surprised, for the Lord had never thus honoured her. Yet sensing a response was required she dipped her chin to agree.
"The master commanded you milady?" servilely questioned the Lord of Mordor.
Valimar, though confused, sensed that a power play had occurred here and some how she had won. Her tutor was no longer her tormenter. He had become her servant. " I am to attend my father in Dol Guldur," announced the half-elf, her voice ringing over loud in the round room. Then revelling in her newfound power she continued, "Make the arrangements Lord of Mordor and have a squad accompany me. I wish to ride at dusk tomorrow."
The ringwraith bowed before the half-elf again. "As you command, milady," hissed he.
Valimar turned and strode from the chamber. Her head held high, amber eyes flashing and her steps ringing as she marched down the little used corridor. The girl was content. She was acknowledged. She was her Father's daughter.
The Lord of Mordor watched, Vanaria daughter go and as she vanished into the darkness the fell creature smiled.