Chapter 3
Tales
Lasca immediately realized a change in the atmosphere of the camp that morning. As she left to bring Pallando food and water, she could feel people warily staring at her. She didn't even want to think about her mother. Lasca had tried to explain her plan to protect her father, but she had barely listened. She did say, however, that she would always love her, though she greatly feared "that sorcerer" would ensnare her mind. The only true comfort Lasca found was in her two brothers, who did not understand their elders' fear. It's worth it, though, she thought, if Father comes back safe.
"Took you long enough," grumbled Pallando as she entered the tent. He immediately consumed the dried meat and fruit she brought him. "Has the company left yet?" he questioned.
"Yes, late last night," Lasca answered before asking a question that had been growing on her mind. "What did you mean when you said I had to keep and open heart and mind, for my end of the deal?"
"That you let go of any superstitions or grudges you may hold, and that you listen to what I have to say."
"So, I just have to listen to you?"
"Yes; for now that is all I ask."
"Have you cast the protection spell yet? For my father?"
Pallando paused before answering carefully. "Yes, it is working as we speak. Now, if you don't mind, I should like to get out of this stuffy tent and breathe the fresh air for a while."
"Er, I don't know if the guards will allow it—" Lasca began, but Pallando was already outside. She hurried after him, lest he be killed on sight. For the first time, she saw him in daylight. His hair and beard had obviously been black at one point, but now all that remained was dark streaks in his otherwise silver hair. His robes were worn and tattered. Lasca could barely make it out, but she knew under all the dust, they were blue. He was standing up now, and was at least a head taller than Lasca. He turned to look at her with piercing blue eyes.
"Well, what are you staring at? Lead me over to that tree so we can sit in the shade."
Lasca did so, but felt a tug on her lips as she thought about what they must look like. "You know, this is more like taking care of my grandfather than a dangerous criminal."
As they sat down, Pallando attempted to give her a withering gaze, but could not do it for long, and instead started laughing. "I am hardly a dangerous criminal! I was out alone on the desert when they found me, traveling on an ornery old donkey. All of a sudden armed warriors and three huge oliphaunts surrounded me…and now here I am."
"Why did they capture you?"
"No doubt they had heard tales told of a sorcerer, bearded and dressed in blue robes. I have been around for a while, and I have quite the infamous reputation, you know."
His eyes twinkled as he said this. Lasca did not know what to make of him. "Who are you, really? Where did you come from?"
A change came over his face. His gaze shifted to the windblown desert, but he seemed to see far past it. Now he looked less like an ornery old man and more like a wise, albeit tired, one. "I came from across the Sea, I and four others." He turned to Lasca. "Do you know what is across the Sea, in the uttermost West?" she shook her head. "It is the Blessed Realm, a land free from the bitterness of death and sadness. There is a great city there, and all the lands about it are green with life. That is where the Valar dwell, the gods of this world."
Lasca again did not know what to make of it. It all sounded far too good to be true. Perhaps the sun had gotten to him. "Why did you leave a place like that?" she asked skeptically. He paused.
"I shall tell you, someday, but now is not the time."
"Then, what are the Valar like? I have only ever heard of one god-like being, and that was Morgoth. Perhaps Sauron too." Pallando flinched visibly at the name Morgoth.
"Do not mention the Black Foe of the World! He was an evil like no other, and now he is imprisoned in the Void, thank Iluvatar. And Sauron—" he stopped, thinking better of speaking ill of the Dark Lord, for he knew the Haradrim were allied with him. Lasca was looking at him questioningly again.
"Who is Iluvatar? Is he one of the Valar?"
"No, no, He is the Lord for Always, the Creator. He is above all else. He made the Valar."
"Created the gods? But I thought gods did the creating."
"Well, I guess you could say they did, but He made it all exist."
"…Is the heat getting to you?"
"NO! I am fine!"
"But you're not making any sense."
"Bah! I suppose I must start at the beginning of it all. Very well, but you had better listen closely…"
Through the rest of the morning he told her of Iluvatar, and the Ainur, and the Great Music. Lasca did listen, but was not sure if she truly believed him. She had never heard any story that described the creation of the world; it had just always been there. She pondered this as she went through her chores later that day. That evening, she timidly asked her mother if she knew how the world came to be. All she got was an alarmed glance, and a reprimand stating that it didn't matter, now tend to the fire. Having been raised to believe just that, Lasca felt that her mother was probably right. Remembering her promise, however, she tried not to totally disbelieve Pallando, just in case he could read minds.
For many mornings after that, Pallando rambled on about the Valar and the earliest days of the World. He told about the different Valar and what they had created in the world. He tread carefully, however, when talking of Melkor (later Morgoth) falling into evil, for he knew that some of the Men under the dominion of Sauron worshipped him. Thankfully, Lasca seemed to have only heard him mentioned before, for she was just a girl, so no one sought to give her any knowledge of the past. As he talked, she would listen politely, nodding to encourage him on. She felt as if she was just being nice and listening to an old man's tales, but a part of her wanted to believe the fantastic stories were true.
One afternoon as she milked her family's camel, she thought about the stories of her own people. Any supernatural Haradrim tales that she had heard usually dealt with Sauron. It was not to say, however, that they were fond of him. Lasca knew that they served under him because they hoped to acquire the rich northern lands. Her own father had left to fight under him. She herself did not know how she felt about the Dark Lord; it was just something she had lived with her whole life. "What do you think of Sauron?" she asked the camel, who only looked at her with its long lashed eyes and chewed its cud calmly in reply, clearly stating it did not care about some great ugly Dark Lord. Lasca laughed and half-wished that she might turn into a camel herself and not have to worry about more than annoying sandflies.
"Lasca, what do you know of Elves?" Pallando asked the next day. She thought for a moment.
"Well, I do not know very much about them," she began. "Any stories I have heard only said they were beings of terrible power, but I do not know if that is true." She looked at him. "Have you met an Elf before?"
"Yes, I have met many Elves in my time."
He began telling her of the coming of the Firstborn: how they were born beside the waters of Cuiviènen; how they undertook the great journey west, how some were lost on the way.
"What happened to the lost Elves?" Lasca asked, genuinely curious but trying not to show it.
"Some, like Elwë Singollo, went on to build great kingdoms. Many, however, fell into the hands of Melkor, and were shut away in deep dungeons. By his cruel arts they were corrupted and twisted. From these Melkor bred the hideous race of orcs, in mockery of the fair and beautiful Elves."
"Are you saying orcs came from Elves?" Lasca questioned, with a shocked look on her face.
"You've seen orcs before?"
"Yes, when messages came from Sauron. I think my father said they were different from regular orcs, though: larger and able to stand the sun. They were truly hideous and disgusting—and their eyes were filled with malice. Elves don't look like that…do they?"
At this Pallando blanched slightly. "Dear Valar, no! They are the exact opposite, in every way. They are tall and fair of face, and most very wise and learned, for they are immortal. Death can only take them by wounds or by deep sadness. Now, pray let me get on with my tale, for the sun is already high in the sky."
Lasca's mother was very worried. Every morning now for nearly two weeks, after she had fetched the water, her daughter had been listening to the wizard's stories. Sometimes she would listen in the evening as well. Much of the tribe shunned her, for they believed she was now in his control. What worried her more than that, however, was that it seemed her daughter did not seem to notice or care. She kept saying that if she listened to the old man, he would cast a protection spell on her father so he would come home safely. She had tried to reason with her, saying that there was no way of telling whether he would keep his promise, but Lasca insisted on trusting him, for she felt it was the only way. Her mother could only picture too well in her mind what was most likely to happen. Her husband would be dead and her daughter would be heartbroken. The tribe would no longer accept her and she would not be able to find a husband when she came of age. They would run her out of the camp, leaving her to die in the desert, thinking it would only be a matter of time before she turned on them with some powerful magic she had learned from the wizard. As she lay in the tent, she turned her head and saw Lasca breathing peacefully. If there are any gods out there, she prayed silently, please keep my daughter safe.
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Okay, that was a bit longer, but really just a filler chapter. The next one is much longer and there's plot development, rejoice! (In my humble opinion) It gets more interesting, too. Thanks very much for sticking with me thus far!
Jen Littlebottom- Thanks ^^
