Disclaimer: If I owned any of this "Lord of the Rings" stuff, I wouldn't be sitting here, writing fanfiction. I own Arwith. Steal her for your own use, and I'll send small, furry animals to eat your socks.
Two (or three) thank you's go out to Gir the Insane Flamin Ninja. I'm glad you like the story.
When she woke up, she found herself lying facedown on the ground, damp with the morning dew. She was in the forest, at the base of a tree, in a pile of leaves. It was chilly enough that her breath came out like puffs of smoke. In the light, one could see that she was still marred with cuts, bruises, burn wounds, and rat bites. She shakily climbed to her feet and got her balance before taking off running again. It was a long while before she stopped.
She sat on a stump, panting. She looked to one side and saw a bush that had mostly iced over. Closer inspection revealed frozen rose hips. She reached over, snapped one off, and tentatively took a bite. She chewed on the hard object like she didn't know what to think of it.
She was halfway through chewing when she froze and a far-off look crossed her face. The feeling faded and she shook herself a bit. She glanced just to her left, near her feet and spied a small mouse. She quickly grabbed it and snapped its tiny neck. She spat out the half ground rose hip and threw the other half away, consuming the mouse carcass and downing it in one bite. She also swallowed some of the ice she scraped off the rose bush.
She spent most of the day running, pausing only occasionally and often looking over her shoulder, toward Mordor. When night came, she curled up at the base of a tree and shivered until she fell asleep.
She lived this way for anywhere from a few days to perhaps three weeks or so. The climate didn't get much warmer. The terrain became steadily rockier and more barren, with fewer rivers and little or no trees. She ate whatever fish or small animals she could catch. She saw no people.
This last statistic changed early one morning. She had been sleeping sitting up with her back against a tree when she awoke and found the blade of a long spear aimed pointedly at her neck. The man holding it had dark skin, black hair, and almond-shaped eyes. He looked fearsome and muscular. His wrists were easily the size of her neck. The horse atop which he was sitting could have been seventeen hands tall. Waking up to the sight of this man perched on such an animal and holding a weapon to her throat while staring ominously down at her was clearly not how she cared to begin her morning. Her eyebrows furrowed slightly as she returned his gaze with only a look of irritation to acknowledge that he had made an impression on her.
The tall stranger nudged the blade of his lance up against the underside of her chin in an attempt to make her stand. In one swift motion, he leaned down, grabbed her by the scruff of her neck, and pulled her onto his steed. Twisting one of her wrists behind her back and pulling it up, he kept her pinned in a sitting position with her back against his chest. They galloped off in one direction, forcing her to grab a handful of the horse's mane to hold herself steady. They traveled for a while before coming upon a camp of sorts. There were portable-looking buildings and three times as many horses as men. The people resembled her abductor: tall with dusky skin and dark hair and eyes.
As they approached, her strange appearance caused those nearby to point and stare. The woman looked at her and spoke to each other in a foreign tongue and laughed; she paid them no heed. Gargantuan as these people were in size, one man in particular towered above the rest. He was dressed in furs, and the sight of him would have frightened anyone.
The men spoke to each other briefly as the first took her wrist from behind her back and slung her off the horse. She hid the ground on her side and took her time standing up while the other men snickered. One of them, holding her by the hair, dragged her off towards another tent and threw her inside.
There were a few other women there. Some were obviously not from the clan; they had lighter skin or different facial characteristics, and they looked very afraid, one to the point of blubbering miserably in her hands. The rest were of the camp's kind, and they seemed completely unagitated by the whimperings of the women around them. Each person sat on a rug on the floor with a blanket and pillow piled on one end. She, after quickly eyeing the room, went to the back and sat in the corner, watching everything happen from a shadow.
She was still in that corner later that night, while they all slept. There was a raucous festivity outside and the men were loud in their revelry. Once or twice, a man, drunk as a bum and twice as loud, would stumble in, snatch up the girl of his choice, and practically haul her off. The native women seemed to handle this rather well, but the others were literally dragged away kicking and screaming.
The fourth time a man floundered in, the outside light landed in her corner. The man, inebriated as he was, caught sight of her framed in the tight space and made his way toward her. While the more frightened of the women squeaked and crawled away, she sat still just long enough for him to lunge at her. She rolled out of the way and stood up, not in a state of hysterics, but certainly very alert. Pulling out probably the smallest weapon she had, an elven dagger, she hunched over into a fighting position while the man stood up, somewhat dazed and confused. He came at her again and she dodged. This continued until the man was sincerely put out. He ran at her once more, but she moved out of his way and he fell out of the tent.
This probably wouldn't have been as noticeable if he had gone through the door. Unfortunately, he ran not only through the fabric wall, but also into one of the poles holding up the structure. The pole was snapped cleanly in two, and half of the building collapsed. She, being nearest this new hole in the wall, was able to emerge without much struggle while plenty of the other women found it rather difficult to fight their way out from under the piles of heavy material.
All this commotion naturally drew a fair deal of attention from the previously partying camp dwellers, preventing her from making a discreet escape. She suddenly found herself surrounded by very tall, muscular men who hadn't all drunk themselves into a stupor. One of them walked actually quite steadily towards her with a weapon that looked like a machete and swung it near her face. She backed away with just a few hairs cut short, but he kept advancing and swinging until she had a few nicks on her face and on her shirt. It seemed like certain death for her when she found her back against the wall, but she slid low enough that she was able to twist her dagger into his side. He yelled, more in anger than in discomfort, and while he was almost doubled up, she got behind him and used her elbow to rabbit punch him twice.
Another man came forward, and when she saw him, the look on her face said what she could not: "Oh no." He was half as wide as he was tall and wielding a huge mace, which he swung down at her. She managed to avoid his attacks a few times, but he caught her in the side and she hit the dirt shoulder first. Clasping the ribs that had most likely been refractured, she heaved herself up on one elbow in time to see him about to bring the club down on her. The stick would surely have broken half of the bones in her body had she not rolled away. The blunt end of the thing cracked upon hitting the ground. When she stood up, he grabbed her around her throat with one hand picked her up clean off the ground. While her feet kicked a little under her and her face grew red, he held up his weapon near her head, as though making sure he knew where it would land. He was prepared to smash in her skull when she pulled out a dirk and plunged it into the elbow of the arm that held her. He cried out in genuine pain and dropped both her and his mace while trying to pull the blade from his ruined joint.
The men who had stood by watching now swarmed in on her, and no amount of time spent in Mordor had prepared her enough to take on this lot. They pushed her and pulled at her and scratched, and it was only when the tallest man of all pushed through, yelling at these men that they all stopped. He surveyed her from where she crouched, bruised and cut. He said something to one of the men in the crowd and walked away while the other pulled her up and followed him.
She found herself sitting in front of a fire in his tent, while he spoke calmly to the man who had brought her inside. When he left, the taller man looked at her from his chair as though she was something he was trying to understand. This colossus of a human being strode around the fire towards her until he was standing over her. She didn't face him, but eyed him without moving her head. When he suddenly brought his hand above his head, her eye twitched and her hand jumped up with her fingers in a curled position. He put his hand down and continued staring at her.
He spoke in the foreign tongue while walking back and sitting down in his chair. He continued speaking and looked at her when she didn't react. The man said something to her in this strange language; she must not have understood, for she furrowed her eyebrows and tilted her head slightly in confusion. Pausing, he said with very deliberate syllables, "You speak Westron?" Hers changed from a look of lacking comprehension to almost anticipation. "You speak at all?" Her brows furrowed again, and she gave her head a small, slow shake. The man "hmphed" and said, "I was saying that my men and I would not kill you.
"I am Kolenka, the leader of this tribe. You are a stranger, found half-starved beneath a tree in the wilderness. You die by my will and my men's swords. You understand your position?" She nodded. "Good. I would ask from where you hail. But since the nearest country is Mordor, from where many strange creatures come, I will not bother.
"Raising your hand above your head tells much about a person. A warrior will reach for their weapon. A child or dog which has been beaten will flinch. You did both." Kolenka was interrupted when a small voice said, "Papa?" They turned to see a small boy, no more than four years old, with large, black eyes standing near a side entrance. "Tolya," the man said. "What are you doing awake?" "Papa," the child said, walking towards him. "Papa, who is that? A siny?" Kolenka smiled and nodded. "Yes, stranger. Go to sleep." The youngster toddled off to obey his father. Kolenka smiled after his son, but forgot his affection upon returning his attention to her.
He stirred the fire before continuing. "To let you go would be merciful, which of course I cannot be. To let Rurik and Fang have their way with you would be sensible but boring. To make sport of you would be entertaining, and I can afford to do it in front of most of my men. I've decided."
As if this was explanation enough, Kolenka shouted, and someone entered behind her. They spoke and she was promptly yanked back outside. The crowd growled when they saw her, and Kolenka had to shout at them to keep them away. His naturally commanding tone was put to practical use while addressing the riled mob. They remained relatively calm throughout the session, but suddenly they roared their disapproval at one of his statements.
She kept her stone face for the most part, but something caught her attention, and her eyes grew wide as she inhaled a shallow breath. She suddenly clapped her hands together in an attempt to catch the arrow that had been flying at her chest. Though the arrow was stopped from embedding itself in her torso, it managed to slip past her hand and into the side of her wrist, just below her thumb. It made a three-inch mound in her arm, with the tip buried in the muscle just between her skin and her radius.
The sudden appearance of this odd protrusion caused members of the audience to murmur and look at each other, trying to establish who had fired the shot. Kolenka had fallen silent and watched while she grasped the arrow and steadily pulled it from her arm.
Kolenka frowned, speaking again in loud tones. In response, a man was pushed forward, the same who had stumbled through the tent. The two spoke rather heatedly and animatedly as she pressed her hand against the wound, stanching the blood. The archer said something accusingly and pointed at her. Kolenka glared but didn't respond. "I know who she is!" Everyone turned and saw Tolya standing outside one the tents. "She's the siny!" The members of the camp laughed at the sheer innocence of the child's simple, straightforward logic. Kolenka grinned wolfishly and said, "Yes, she is the siny! Very good!"
Chuckling a moment longer, but soon becoming serious, he addressed the crowd once again. When he finished, they slowly dispersed, many of the people giving her looks of uncertainty, some of distrust and loathing. Kolenka hauled her to her feet, saying, "You will go back to the women's tent for now. Also, I've just been told that Fang is doing well, and Rurik will never be able to bend his arm again."
This last fact caused several people to be quite furious with her the following day, Rurik in particular. While he couldn't inflict any serious damage on her while Kolenka had any say, he did take full advantage of his first opportunity to swing his dead limb and slap her across the face, leaving an ugly gash on her cheek.
No one had time to notice this, as everyone was tearing down the camp and preparing to move out. Kolenka told her they were a naturally nomadic people whose livelihood depended on their ability to travel quickly from one place to another. Their latest activity, he said, was to conquer a nearby town, on which she would accompany them and prove if she had any worth. Along the way, he proudly expounded on their ability to survive on the harsh, rugged terrain and on their unique military technique. Other civilizations, he said, made the mistake of dragging along a food caravan wherever they went. Their people however, took no such supplies, opting instead to eat a yogurt made from the milk of their mares. If they needed to, they would make a small cut their horse's neck and suck the warm blood from the wound. Having experienced before the nauseous results that followed after one consumed too much blood, she rarely participated in this feeding ritual.
Also, the average military unit only took along a single horse for every man; they took three. Kolenka explained that this enabled them to switch off when one horse got too tired, allowing them to complete the journey three times faster.
But the real genius, Kolenka said, lay in their individual plan of attack. Working in well-organized sets of ten, groups of them would suddenly attack a village or town during the winter months. They hit the unsuspecting community from all different angles, using spears, speed, surprise, terror, and most notably, their superior horsemen-archery abilities and fearsome reputation to conquer whomever they chose.
It went exactly as planned: rushing in with a fury, the tribesmen put their talents with the bow to good use. Though she still had little use for a bow, she could wield a sword as well as most. They attacked with vigor and were well-rewarded for their efforts. For all its size and life, the shocked and horrified town never stood a chance.
Kolenka came forward after the while short siege had ended, while plenty of his men were raiding homes, looking for food, goods, or an attractive female. "You see," he said triumphantly. "'Winter?' people say. 'No one attacks inwinter' You see what happens when you do what people don't expect. Impressive, eh?" She surveyed the area with the calmest of glances and gave a short nod. Kolenka laughed, exclaiming, "The Siny approves!"
She stayed with the tribe longer than she had stayed with Sauron. Though plenty of the men didn't approve of the idea of any woman who acted even remotely like a man, she often joined them on their conquering raids. Kolenka kept some of the peace by declaring that she would always live with the women and would never have her own horse. Fang and Rurik never liked or trusted her, nor did many of the other tribe members, but a few learned to appreciate her talents with a blade. One man even tried to give her a lesson on archery. He later gained back his comrades' respect when he said he would rather teach a woman to use a bow than risk losing his limbs when she swung about her sword.
Living among Kolenka's people was a change from living with orcs. Though similarly barbaric, the tribe was still comprised of humans that didn't follow quite the same protocol. While slaying anyone who irked you was punishable, those few who openly opposed Kolenka's word would mysteriously vanish for a few hours and be found after suffering a convenient and untimely demise. While they all practically starved trying to survive on mare's milk, bits of horse's blood, and whatever rodents they could find, it was considered appalling to eat a corpse. Though earrings were occasionally taken as bounty, it was thought highly unusual to wear them, to even have pierced ears. Also, orcs were created; humans were born. So when one of the expectant wives suddenly found herself standing in a puddle of water and suffering from sharp abdominal pains, it turned out to be a learning experience for everyone involved, including the observant, thoroughly alarmed "Siny."
During the proceeding months, Kolenka would sometimes meet with leaders of other tribes of the same persuasion, often to exchange news or declare war on each other. Visiting ambassadors occasionally asked about the strange, skinny little wench that sat near the corral, practicing her fencing and falling off her horse. Kolenka would tell them that they had happened upon the Siny, as they called her, by accident and found her a decent fighter, if a poor archer. The other chiefs thought this was most unusual, but Kolenka was respected enough that they didn't question him on it.
They found it more important to discuss their campaign to conquer neighboring lands. They were having terrific success, and their territory had spread farther than they had anticipated in the past few months. When they were feeling particularly proud of their own achievements, they had a huge banquet with roaring fires and a great deal of wine said to have come from Havoth-jair, one of their previous exploits.
One morning, having consumed more than her own fair share of the dark drink the night before, she awoke to find a small, brown mark on her arm, similar to symbols from the people's written language. Kolenka told her that she was, if possible, more solemn when she was intoxicated than when she was sober, saying she had spent most of the evening staring at her horse. He also told her the mark on her arm would vanish in a few days, unlike the more permanent tattoo on his arm from a party several years previous.
Once, after the meal was over, several long, cylindrically shaped objects were brought out and bits of fire held under them. Having never seen one of these odd-looking things, she leaned forward and observed the practice with curiosity. There was a sudden bright burst of light and a high-pitched screaming as it soared into the air and exploded in flashes of color. The people cheered, but she closed her eyes, covered her ears, and gritted her teeth, unpleasantly surprised at the noise and light. She immediately went into one of the tents and stayed there for the remainder of the evening, with a pillow held firmly over her flapped-down ears.
Kolenka, whose main concern was furthering his own dominion, continued to push the clan westward, hoping to gain as much as he could. While traveling in this perpetually northwestern direction, the air would grow still colder and the terrain more rocky. The clan handled it all very well, and it was eternally obvious that these men were made of sturdier stuff than those she had fought against in Mordor.
There came a time, long after she had mastered riding a horse and most had stopped complaining about her battling with the men, that they came to a cliff from which they could make out sea. They rode towards the shore, and upon reaching it, Kolenka exclaimed he had never seen so much water in one place.
A thin trail of smoke in the distance caught their attention. Prepared to overpower another town if needed, they made a beeline for it, traveling all day and into the night. The smoke, which had suddenly become thick and gray, blocked out the stars and was almost impossible to distinguish from the darkened sky. They stopped a few miles before reaching their destination, and she and another man were sent ahead to see if it was safe to proceed. When scarcely a mile away, they tied off their horses and crept forward, hiding in the trees and watching from a distance.
The town was ablaze. Women could be heard screaming while armed men rushed about outside. They were cut down by tall figures that swung gigantic axes and swords, the latter seeming to catch her attention. They seemed larger in stature than those they were attacking, similar to Kolenka's men, but they had no horses and, most intriguingly, they seemed to pay special attention to attacking people's legs, of all things.
After observing all this, they rode back to camp, where Kolenka was waiting. When asked the condition of the town, the man replied, "It is a mess. Someone else is already attacking." Surprised, Kolenka asked, "Another clan?" She shook her head. "No," the man continued. "Someone different. They had light skin and no horses." Considering this, Kolenka said, "We wait until morning; let them do work for us."
The following morning, she and Kolenka's clan rode calmly into the town. The smoke and fog blended in perfectly, and both were so thick that the clansmen seemed to materialize out of nothing. A few of the victims sat huddling in the shambles of their burnt buildings, watching them with the same fearful eyes that had followed them through their own conquests. They soon met the other attackers.
These were men of the same build, but not race. They were similarly tall and muscular, but they had light skin and fair hair. They had huge arms and wore thick fur-trimmed coats over their tunics. They wielded swords and axes, but surprisingly, spears seemed to be their weapon of choice.
When approached, the fairer strangers stood up, and one pointed and said in a threatening tone, "Who are you?" Kolenka answered mightily in his native tongue, looking very authoritative and impressive. The other men, looking as though they were trying to hide their befuddlement, became irritated and sneered.
The one clearly marked as the leader of this outfit looked Kolenka in the eye and proudly said, "I am Valdemar, the conqueror of this and many other villages. You are trespassing on our victory." Kolenka calmly responded, "You make good time only. Had you come any later, it would have been we who owned this town. In fact, it is only my orders that kept my men from attacking you last night."
Valdemar raised an eyebrow. "You think you could have beaten the Normans, who no one can defeat?" Kolenka answered, "Easily." Valdemar's men took offense and drew their weapons as though to attack. Kolenka's men nocked their arrows and prepared to release if needs be. Seeing that the archers on horseback had the obvious advantage, Valdemar ordered his men lowered their blades; they obeyed, but kept them at hand.
Valdemar frowned at Kolenka. "It is you who has good timing. Were it not for the fog, we would have sailed away by now." Kolenka smirked, showing off strong, white teeth. "You make the task that much easier- no one to fight."
Patience obviously wearing thin, Valdemar snarled. "Did you come to fight or just to insult us?" Kolenka answered simply, "Neither. We come to see if you are friend.
"My people are on a campaign to conquer the land. You seem to want to conquer the sea. If you aid us, you come when we are at war and you pay our tax when you land." "And if we don't want to be subject to your tyranny?" "Then we flay you alive and eat your flesh."
It will probably never be known whether it was Kolenka's casual yet sincere attitude when describing their grisly demise or his obvious advantage in numbers and strength that had more of an effect on Valdemar, but nevertheless, he paused for only a moment before agreeing to work under him. Kolenka grinned wolfishly. "Very good." He dismounted and continued. "I am Kolenka, and these are my men. I suggest that we become acquainted now; we won't have time to this afternoon, when more of the chieftains arrive. And as long as we are doing that, let us also discuss that tax."
Sure enough, at least three other tribes joined Kolenka's, sealing the fate of Valdemar and his men of being ruled over by strangers. Over a short period of time, it was explained to these Normans that Kolenka's people would collect a set amount every time they landed on that shore. They would be charged one third of their rewards whenever they attacked anyone in that country. The prospect made Valdemar absolutely quiver with rage, but there was nothing he could do about it.
The problem could very easily have been solved by simply leaving when the fog lifted and never returning, but of course, conditions made their situation not very simple at all. Kolenka and the other chiefs, after lengthy discussion, decided that going to war against another clan was an excellent idea. "Markov was always a terrible leader and a slovenly host and I never liked him very much!"
As a direct result, the Normans now had to stay on shore with Kolenka and his men to help fight Markov's clan for honor and titles and so on and so forth. This meant that while fighting, the two cultures became very well acquainted indeed. When he had finished raging over losing a portion his winnings, Valdemar actually began to warm up to Kolenka and grew to appreciate his people's particular style of warfare. Kolenka, likewise, was rather impressed with how the Normans ran things.
Both cultures seemed to favor attacking weak, unsuspecting towns and cities, thereby avoiding any pitched battles. The Normans liked to seize a small land base from which they could repeatedly attack a town, moving in further whenever the people did.
Valdemar explained that, like Kolenka's people, the Normans were trained to be great warriors from the time that they were very small. Even their childhood games taught them how to fight. A personal favorite was to throw a spear as far as you could and see if another could catch it. A common chore among youngsters was to practice chopping wood with both arms, building up their strength.
They came from a cold country, he said, with rough terrain and many fjords. Waterways naturally became their highway to other lands. His people prided themselves on their abilities as ship makers, boasting that they were the best ever. Their ships were wide and shallow, allowing them to be sailed over seas and up rivers, and if necessary, be carried over the ground. Unlike others, they were also covered in thick black tar, sealing the boards together and making them nearly impossible to sink. These ships would be rowed everyday for miles, which was why they had such gigantic arms. This, along with years of chopping wood with either arm, allowed them to switch hands while fighting, a trait Kolenka had admired in the Siny for quite some time and admired in the Normans now.
He was especially impressed with their scheme for intimidating the enemy. One of the tallest, most muscular men, called a berserker, would stand in the front of the crowd. First they would doff their armor, until they were nearly bare. They would begin to howl like wolves and bite the edges of their shields until their mouths bled. Then they would dance around madly as though possessed, causing the already frightened enemy to become simply petrified. Without warning, the berserkers would then charge towards their opponent, howling and screaming like madmen. The rest of their men would move towards the terrified foe in a wedge formation, finishing off whatever the berserker left behind.
Needless to say, when Kolenka and the other tribesmen had settled whatever disagreement that had them warring in the first place, he and Valdemar were able to say good-bye on slightly more amiable terms. A few days before they were set to leave, Kolenka noticed her standing a ways off, watching the men prepare their ship. Standing next to her, he asked, "Do you want to go with them?" She looked at him as though to ask what brought on the question. "You feeling restless? A need to explore, see the world?" He paused, then said, "I wouldn't blame you. Nothing holds you here with us except your own decisions. You've certainly stayed here longer than I might have expected. It has been many years since Lei brought you to us. No doubt they could offer something new." She looked at the ground, nodded, and looked back at Kolenka. He nodded understandingly. "Rurik and Fang won't exactly cry when they hear that you're leaving. But I can honestly say that I will feel the loss of a comrade."
She left with the Normans carrying what few items she possessed: a few weapons, a dead hare, as many herbs as the barren land could produce, a folded blanket in a bag, and a suit of mithril that she never let anyone discover. Kolenka and his tribe stood on the shore with the horse that was once hers, mounted atop their own steeds and watching her drift off. Within the hour, they were gone from her sight and from her life.
It was on that boat that she learned many things she might never have learned otherwise. Firstly, she learned that she did not become seasick. Secondly, she learned that as long as she wasn't seasick, she would help row. Thirdly, she learned that while she may have been stronger than most women, she was not strong enough to row for hours on end, for days at a time.
After several weeks of rowing until her arms refused to move, with battles few and far between, they came to a harbor where they could restock. It was a remote, international port where sailors, merchants, pirates, and all manner of seafarers could make berth. It was there that, while Valdemar and the other Normans she had come to know were taking care of provisions, she stood on a small dock and observed a tiny town, filed with things she had never seen and places she had never been. When Valdemar called to her, she turned but didn't move. He waited for a few minutes, trying to comprehend her thoughts, then said, "Very well then. Let's go." He and his companions rowed away, leaving her standing on a dock in a place where she had never been.
She watched the spot where they had eventually disappeared, as though waiting to see if they would turn around and come back for her. But they never did. She eventually turned around and stood facing this same, lonely city, standing just at the edge of the dock but not moving onto the dirt road. After a while, she slowly put her foot down on the shore, the other soon following. As though trying to decide if this felt any different from the dock, she stood and watched her own feet. Then she took her first steps out of everything she had known and into a world she had yet to discover.