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Chapter Six
Karanisuri
With our return it was as if I and the others carried the shadows of the forest back home. Or the better imagery is that it was like the darkness that arose as the Storm Season rolled in but the rain had yet to descend. The whole world seemed to be filled with the static and stillness before the storm. It broke our society down like a lightning strike to a tree.
The Quendi are young, brave, and foolish. We were full of fire for adventure and invention. It was the idea of what next and what are the limits that we kept on questioning. It was the whole reason for our expansion. Yet at the heart of it all always had been this openness, this love for each other, this delight we had in each other that was part of this fire. It was warmth that is given by a well controlled fire. It was stifled with fear as the shadows begin to appear in the woods and reports came in of dark riders in the hills. Dark whispers were all about invading our lives like a weed. The Quendi began to look over their shoulders in fear. We all began to feel strangled by our own desires to explore and do and this caused tempers to flare up. In our way we began to become callous towards each other.
The highlight in the darkness for us was the Great Gathering. For despite the changes that dictated more of how we lived and traveled this was what we all looked forward too. There was this moment of openness where the Quendi briefly forgot their fears and celebrated life in the light of the bonfires and friendly smiles people forgot the shadows that haunted us. Families gathered for weddings, for celebration of births, and for the coming of age. Goods and ideas were traded between the various communities and clans. The whole gathering was alight with laughter and love.
I will stop here talking about the politics of that time. Twas not that we were mistrustful of each other but more we were fearful for each other. I learned in this time that hysteria was a ripple that burned through a people. My life changed because of this but not in a twisted way. It was just different in that I ended up spending time with my youngest siblings, two brothers by the names of Tankatiro and Cwîlneno. Those two were stuck together like the honey between two pieces of ladambassē.
Tankatiro and Cwîlneno followed me into the Palar-e-Rokasta during the Dry Season. There was a swelling of people who joined the riders and the Tir-e-Twaina, desiring to travel but fearful to do so alone. In the Storm Season I dwelled with the Tir-e-Twaina or occasionally Minmbar. Tarakano was my faithful companion during all of this and played the older brother for the more excitable Tankatiro and the more quiet Cwîlneno.
My amme finally got her wish for me to settle down in Minmbar with the birth of my youngest sibling. The youngest of our siblings was a little girl of red hair and bright blue eyes and named Liraiwë. Víloma and I obsessed over our little sister who adored our attention greatly. Liraiwë was probably the most the loved child of our family as we she was doted on by all her older siblings. Liraiwë was often seen in our arms that other began to think she had never stepped foot on the ground, though she was rather happy with the arrangement. Ammë had a hard time spending any time with her youngest because of us siblings. Even Tarakano and my other siblings' lovers played a role as the big sibling. Her sweet nature, her easy laughter, and her bright curiosity was like a fire we all gathered around.
It was when Liraiwë was two that Tarakano and I finally announced that we would wed following the next Great Gathering. My family and his was excited and apparently Víloma won a bet between them. It does not surprise me that my own twin one the bet or that Kanatasulo came in second. It took me one hundred and ten Dry Seasons since I first met Tarakano to finally agree to the joining of our lives. This memory sticks out for many reasons and not just because it was my wedding day.
"Why do you get to wear only white flowers," Liraiwë asked curiously? She was sitting on the ground helping Víloma, Ammë, and the other female members of my family carefully braid flowers into each other's hair. The men of my own family were doing their own ritual.
"The white flowers are to symbolize the blessing of the stars," Víloma says.
"Why are the stars blessing big nēthā?"
"For happiness little one," Ammë said to Liraiwë flashing my sister a big smile.
"Happiness?" Liraiwë turns to look at Ammë as she asks her question. Her red hair was carefully done in the golden flowers, blue flowers, and one white one carefully tucked behind her ear.
"Yes happiness that Tarakano and your big nēthā met and join their lives," Ammë says.
"Oh. Since I do not have someone to join my life I cannot wear all the white flowers?" Liraiwë scrunched her nose at her question looking most displeased.
"You will some day," Víloma soothes. "Now, do you want to help me with Suri's braid?"
"Yes! Yes! I would love to!" Liraiwë bounces over from where she was sitting next to Ammë to behind me with Víloma. Víloma slowly explains to Liraiwë the why for each twist and for each flower placed.
"This flower is meant for trust. Do you know what this one means?"
"No. What does it mean big nēthā?"
"This one is for wisdom."
"Oh I see!" Víloma finishes the braid and ties it off. I have done my own braids for many seasons and it still feels strange to have someone do it. Tarakano is the only one in recent years who I have allowed the intimacy of braiding my hair. He takes great joy in playing with my flaming hair.
"Now, let me see you do it little one."
"It's like this? Then, you use this flower?" Liraiwë asks and I wince as she pulls my hair tightly.
"No so tight little one, loosen it up a little. Yes, yes, like that." Víloma instructs carefully her tone measured. I can from how she interacts with our sister that my twin will make a good mother. That is, if she ever does have children because she seems to be taking her sweet time.
"There you go! You all set now big nēthā!" I show off the braid Liraiwë has done for the family.
"My oh my Liraiwë, you did a good job!" My Amanēthā tells her and picks up Liraiwë. Liraiwë cries out in delight and hugs my aunt.
"Come, come, Amanēthā! Make me fly like a bird!" Liraiwë demands and Amanēthā gives in. Amanēthā swirls about with Liraiwë. Amanēthā's golden hair dances in the wind and her foot steps are light. Liraiwë shrieks with delight for a moment before mimicking perfectly the sound of an eagle.
"I do not know how she does it," Víloma whispers in my ear.
"Yes but perhaps much like how we speak upon the wind," I whisper back. Víloma gives me a knowing look and we both grin at each other.
"I want more wind," Liraiwë cries as Amanēthā puts her down. Víloma and I exchanged looks each reading the other. We grip hands and close our eyes. I cannot sing the song that I once sung against the Shadow but I could summon a wind to speak to my sister as much as she can for me. A gentle breeze begins to pick up and we let it flow passed us.
"Amanēthā!"
"Alright little one, alright," Amanēthā agrees. She picks up Liraiwë, a dance of gold and red, of flowers and the cries of an eagle as they spun about. My twin and I both laugh at the delight of our own little sister.
"Where is the lovely bride?" I hear a voice cry out behind us. She is a tall nes with the same golden hair and blue eyes that is the same cut as all Minyar. My Grandmother Iminyë is a radiant nes.
"Grandmother!"
"You look lovely my dear."
"Thank you." I blush at her comment.
"I honestly thought this day would never come. It feels me with such delight," Iminyë tells me and then gives me kisses on both cheeks. "Come, let us join the men. The Wolf is almost half over. Soon He will sink below the horizon."
I grin and run off with the nesi. We disappear into the boulders and the forest on the opposite side of the river. We remained silent as we did this. Iminyë guided us to where the neri had staked their position. They stood there with feral grins on their faces. The neri only wore leggings and their chests would have been bare except for the painted markings upon them. They represented honor, death, life, what it means to be a hunter, family, and even tribe.
We nesi took the paint from the neri and took time painting each other's bare skin. It was a simple outfit for each nesi. We all wore skirts and then short shirts that left our bellies bare. It was tradition to never paint the belly for that was where life was carried. Our bare arms and legs, out faces and even our backs was carefully painted. While we did this he neri drum and sang and banged their staves against the ground. They grinned, laughed, mocked fought each other.
"The Wolf is gone and now the Hunter arises," a ner cried out! There was silence and everyone began to hide. I hid carefully up a tree so that while I was hidden to an extent I could see down below. It was hard waiting there in silence. The birds sung about and even the crickets got a tune in at times. Then, there was the barest of rustling in the trees.
Tarakano strides out and stops in front of the boulders. My breath hitches at the sight of his bare chest decorated in the symbols of the Tir-e-Twaina. His silver was braided in his proud hunter's braids. He looked every bit the fierce and proud leader of the Tir-e-Twaina. Tarakano swings the staff behind his neck and rests the crooks of his arms upon it. His green eyes seem to pierce the surroundings as he gazes about. His family appears out of the woods. The silver hair of his parents, brothers, and sisters stand out. Their partners and even some of their children were there.
"I have come to claim my Star!" His voice is not weak as he shouts his demand. For all that Tarakano is often quiet there is a backbone to him. When he speaks it is more so apparent when he makes his voice powerful.
"Then, you must fight me first!" Kanatasulo jumps out with his cry. Kanatasulo and Tarakano fight but the battle is a short affair. The fight is much longer with Kandatuo who was well versed in the spear. Then, it was my cousin Ingwë, then my father, and then my grandfather.
"I have proved my worth, now let me have my Star!" I grin and descend from the tree. My family and I had long discussed this since the first announcement. I broke tradition in this moment. My father tosses me his staff as I run out before my family. I catch it and come to a stop before Tarakano.
"You must defeat me first dear sir to win your Star." I give him a cheeky grin and he too grins. We pause for a moment and like the breeze I begin with a gentle swing. Tarakano blocks his green eye flashing.
"You cannot hope to defeat me with such a weak swing Delyanin," Tarakano murmurs.
"No but the Storm comes." I swing my staff out for a low blow and he stops it dropping his at an angle to block the blow. We begin to trade blows in earnest. Unlike the fights earlier that are more for show that this ner could defend himself, I am serious in defeating him. He swings to the side and I catch it in the middle of my own staff. He lashes out towards the other side and I just shift to block it. I swing to the top, he swings low, I swing to the side and bring it upwards. Tarakano slides to the left. We shift positions throwing distance between us, throwing thrusts at each other's feets. I step in fast going for a sternum blow but he catches it. He reacts fast but I shift to the left allowing him to miss. We dance like this for a bit, our speed picking up. Then, he attacks and I defend catching out staves in the middle and they both break. We stop and stare at it.
"I am not sure what to make of this," I mutter. Tarakano bursts out laughing and then picks me up, throwing me over his shoulder.
"I have claimed my Star!" Tarakano dashes off with me screaming curses at him. I can hear the laughter of my family and even his as Tarakano dashes back to the camp of the Great Gathering.
"Tarakano!"
"Karanisuri!" Tarakano finally sets me down once we get to the river. He is breathing harshly but a wild grin is on his face. His eyes are dancing with laughing before grabbing my hand. We laugh splash through it not even bothering to hop from rock to rock. Tarakano and I make our way to the end of it. The population of the Quendi had grown and the only way to make room was to set a multitude of bonfires at the top of the camp. We join in the merriment, eating the food, dancing to the songs and drums.
"El-a! Nesi ekwē!" All the nesi run in and circle the bonfires and the neri pull away. I stay on the outskirts and dance with Liraiwë and Víloma. Liraiwë fumbles throughs the dance but laughs all the while. My sisters and I am soon surrounded by other younger nesi. Thankfully a few of the elder nesi saw our plight and helped. The song ends and switches to a fast one. I grab Liraiwë and do only the moves of the song with my feet.
"This is so fun big nēthā!"
"I agree little one! Dancing is the best!" We both laugh together, the wind and the sweet bird. I settle Liraiwë's feet onto the ground. Tarakano grabs her other hand and we dance around in a circle. We take Liraiwë over to the food to grab a bite to eat and end up stumbling into Ingwë, Finwë, Elwë, and several of our friends.
"I never thought the ceremony would ever happen!" A nes I recognized from the journey to find what hunted us.
"Ah, well apparently someone of my family seemed to know me best," I said with an embarrassed smile.
"Everyone owes big nēthā new items cause big nēthā knew best. She won after all," Liraiwë grins over the sweet fruit treat.
"Oh?" Finwë asks with a smile.
"Mmhmm," Liraiwë she sounds out with her mouth full of the treat.
"Was it about when you two were going to marry? I heard your amme and atta talking about it one day with my parents," Elwë commented to Tarakano with grey eyes glinting with humor.
"Ah yes, it was apparently a bet managed by both of our families." Tarakano sighs heavily at this shaking his head and then laughs.
"May I get another sweet?" Liraiwë tugs on my skirt to get my attention. I squat down to be face to face with her.
"Yes you may little one, would you bring me back one too?" I whisper in her ear conspiratorially and she giggles loudly.
"Of course!" Liraiwë runs along through the crowds her small body dodging through the adult's legs. There is a moment of silence as we all watch her go.
"Your little sister is precious," Elwë said.
"Are not all children?" Elwen counters. The nesi and I all give knowing looks and the neri shake their heads. Tarakano slips an arm around my waist and smiles down at me.
"Amanēthā Lelyaldë could not have produced a more precious child. Though Víloma is a close second!" Ingwë flashes me a grin and I smack him on the arm.
"That was not nice, cousin!" Ingwë just sticks his tongue at me in response.
"Well, Amanēthā Lelyaldë gave birth to you! You are a right terror!" Ingwë teases and I chase him around our group of friends smacking him in the arm. We come to stop and turn our conversation to others matters and specifically to Orosundova and the community's playing around with rocks and trying to find out more about metal like the copper from earlier seasons. We also recount stories of tricks and foolery of the people we live with. Our conversation was interrupted many times by various Quendi giving us warm blessings.
"Liraiwë should be back now," I interject after the laughter died down over Elwë's story. My heart ceases in my throat and I hope she has not wandered too far. Gone were the days where children ran free though most of the children stayed close to families.
"I am sure she is fine. Liraiwë probably met some friends or perhaps other family members. Children often get distracted," Elwen said with a kind expression.
"I would feel better taking action than waiting." There is a muffled cry in the distance though I knew not what was said. This gathers everyone's attention and we glance around for the source. The amount of people makes it hard to see where the cry is from. The crowd begins to run in different directions though mostly towards us. I rush in that direction with others following me behind.
'What could have happened?' Deep down inside I also worried for Liraiwë but I knew the situation had to be analyzed quickly. The crowd of Quendi running around almost aimlessly to be anywhere and there was a few who seemed frozen in spot that I catch glimpse of. I heard though a familiar sound, the rhythm of hooves traversing over grass and dirt that sounds like the rhythm of our hearts. It stopped and the silence felt eerie. I hear a horse whine before I break through some of the people who remained standing in place like boulders.
Liraiwë stood before this colossal horse. It was far bigger than any of the horses than ran through the plains. The horse's hair was black as Storm Clouds. There was a being standing there with skin darker than the Nelyar by the horse. Just like the horse this being was enormous. Liraiwë is offering up the sweet treat to him.
"Liraiwë!" I cry dashing forward heedless of whoever this was, be it shadow rider or not. I dart forward and stand between the two of them. My heart is beating fast. I feel my expression turning grim before going slack when I finally get a good look at the rider. The rider's skin was a rich dark brown though it was not the darkness of the sky in the Storm Season. The body was muscular and most definitely masculine. His hair was rich in brown hues that reminded me of the forest. The eyes were the most startling, a bright green that stood out in the darkness. There was a light in his eyes that made him seem pleasant and not a dark rider. There was such a purity to this being that felt strange against our primitiveness.
There was a stillness in the air and then I felt it. It was like when I communed mind to mind with my fellow Quendi when we were riding or in the forest. I exhale sharply and was lost in a sea of imagery and emotions. I hear the echo of a song and I was frozen. I never felt the tears pouring down my eyes as I heard the most beautiful song I was ever to hear. It was wild notes of darkness, light, of hunting, and wandering. The song was the echo of the wilderness, the nobility, and courage of our own heart. It disappeared so fast and a feeling of vastness, love, and awe remained.
"By the Stars," I exhale out blinking fast. I can feel the wetness of my own cheeks and rub them away. I glance around at the other Quendi and I can see similar expressions upon their faces. We were all completely stunned, in awe, captured in the beauty of wild songs and pure love. Liraiwë steps in front of me and offers the extra sweet bread to him and begins to much on hers. He takes it from her and takes a bite. Liraiwë giggles at his.
"Sorry big nēthā."
"It is quite alright." I stare up at him.
"Karanisuri," I told him and pointed at myself. I pointed at my little sister and name her. I began to point to various Quendi and name them as well before finally turning to him and pointing at him. I reach out though this being's mind feels strange. I send out the feeling of curiosity.
"Arōmēz," the rider finally speaks. His name is strange. He then begins to speak his voice was loud and the language unpleasant. It was like his words were long syllables almost seeming like whole sentences at times. He pauses for a moment and gives all of us a grin. He points to his horse and says a long word. The feeling of curiosity presses into me like a pressure point before backing off.
"Rokkō," I say with a grin. The others seemed to come out of the stupor. First Ingwë and Tarakano who were both at my back. Then, it was Finwë who came to stand next to us. Elwë, Olwë, and their siblings came to after that. Bit by bit more Quendi seemed to awaken from the communion with this Arōmēz. They seemed awed as I feel and many begin to crowd around him. Everyone began to speak at once to Arōmēz. He seemed to take delight in hearing the Quendi speak.
"Halt your speech now!" Ingwë orders loudly. Silence reigns among the Quendi though there is a few whispers. Ingwë and Arōmēz stare at each other their eyes pools bright and flickering with thoughts and emotions. They both smile at the same time appearing to arrive at an understanding. Ingwë turns to face most of the Quendi.
"What is it Ingwë?" Finwë asked his eyes still trained on the rider.
"We cannot continue to use the mind-speech for it only goes so far in this manner. We must teach Arōmēz our language and our ways so that we may also learn from him."
"Could we not…" A ner belonging to the Tatyar clan begins.
"No," Ingwë interrupts.
"I agree with you Ingwë," Finwë states.
"I as well. May I suggest that we stick only one among us to be his guide?" Olwë asks from behind me.
"I will do it then though all may help me in this process," Ingwë said. He turns once more to Arōmēz and they commune for a moment.
"Liraiwë would you go and grab some food? Karanisuri how about you help her with it." Ingwë's voice is full of command and not a suggestion. I wish I could see his face and perceive the thoughts of my cousin.
"Come on!" Liraiwë tugs on my hand. I let her lead me feeling confused. Who was Arōmēz? I would have considered him a dark rider except there was a purity. Arōmēz did not carry the dark whispers that could be heard from the shadow that I came across many Seasons ago. I shudder at the thought almost feeling faint. Sometimes I feel like meeting the shadow creature left a taint upon me that I could not cleanse myself. I was awoken from my dark thoughts by the sight of the food. There was food everywhere with some of it trampled and other food was simply knocked over.
"Good food ruined," Liraiwë lets out a sigh.
"Well, I am sure we can save some of it." Liraiwë nods in agreement with my words. We pick through and choose a few pieces and head back to Ingwë. Arōmēz and my cousin were going back and forth with mostly Ingwë pointing or showing an object and saying the word. Arōmēz would look thoughtful and occasionally go back over every word that Ingwë had showed him recently.
"Ah thanks my cousins," Ingwë said and gave both of us kisses.
"Miqi," Ingwë says suddenly and repeats the action upon me. It went on like this for sometime. The Gathering had come to a stand still. A near silence had descended upon the camp that had never been heard before except for a few voices. It was awe and fear as we watched this being called Arōmēz go back and forth with Ingwë. Arōmēz's mind was bright for it seemed that as soon as he learned a word he remembered it. He soon stopped repeating the words he learned for the list grew so long. Some Quendi grew bored that was close and they would leave. More people would come and fill in those spaces to look at this being who spoke in the words unlike the birds and the beasts. There are some of us Quendi, including I, who cannot stop watching this interaction go back and forth. The periods where Ingwë and Arōmēz would pause for communion began to get shorter and shorter.
Liraiwë yawned loudly and Ingwë pauses for a moment. He gives a small smile.
"I just realized that your wedding has been ruined. Go tend to your sister and find your parents. I am sure they are curious if they have now already heard by now." With that Ingwë dismisses us and he returns to Arōmēz. I picked up Liraiwë who yawns again and she wraps her tiny little arms around me. She lays her head into the crook of my neck. Tarakano follows me close behind. We are hailed and we both stop.
"Did you see the strange rider Tarakano?"
"What did the rider look like Karanisuri?"
"We will brief and be on our way, the strange rider looks like us but taller and darker in coloring. Go see for yourselves," Tarakano said his voice patient.
"There are so many people!"
"We have places to be and a sleepy child to tend to," I finally say my piece. They quiet down but they look annoyed. We walk away together and I sigh as Tarakano slips an arm around my waist.
"At least we got through the ceremony," Tarakano said and I cannot help but chuckle at this.
"We can have that memory at least," I agree.
"It'll be shadowed by the arrival of Arōmēz," Tarakano said quietly.
"The memory can remain bright. Did you enjoy my challenge?" Tarakano bursts into quiet laughter at my challenge.
"It was a surprise and a delight."
"I am glad," I whisper. We ignore further hails striding through the camp with purpose. We finally return to where my family has camped out. My amme is sitting on the ground crying and atta is trying to comfort her. Víloma and Kandatuo are both kneeling in front of her talking. My other brothers are standing to the side looking indecisive and torn. My grandparents on both sides of my family are talking hurriedly with others. They had already changed out of their former clothing and washed up. My family looks like a normal gathering of all three clans. We are spotted by a few members and they gives cries of happiness from my other family members.
"By the Stars!" I heard someone say like a prayer.
"Karanisuri! Liraiwë!" Ammë gets up and quickly embraces us. She holds us tight for a moment and her sobs quiet.
"Ammë?" I would wrap around my arms around Ammë if I could. It is hard to see the nes who always presented herself as infallible cry as such. It is not say my mother is a rock, my mother is warmed hearted and kind. There are times when I grew up that I wondered how my mother could have borne such brave and foolish children? My twin sister Víloma was the closest in nature to mother and there was a spark of fire even in Víloma. Yet in all my years I have never seen her cry until now.
"Your amme was afraid for there are rumors flying all over camp over a strange rider and you two," Atta explains. His grey eyes are deep and concerned.
"Ah. Well, it is a long story but seeing as we are both well and fine."
"I tried to tell her that but Ammë wouldn't listen," Víloma said. Ammë sniffs at this and gives my twin a withering look. Víloma openly laughs at this before shaking her head.
"You are both my babies and always will be no matter how old you become," Ammë said in her defense. Atta gives my mother a knowing smile.
"Perhaps you will listen to me next time when I say that," Grandmother Iminyë said causing chuckles to erupt from various people.
"Ammë!" My amme whines back at Iminyë.
"Can you take Liraiwë?" I finally ask my mother. It is not that my sister is heavy but that I wish to go. There is change in the wind and I would like to have my time with Tarakano. My amme looks at me her eyes sparkling shimmering with both tears and happiness. She then gives me a small knowing smile and winks.
"Oh! Of course dear, but you will tell me everything won't you?"
"I am sure Liraiwë will tell you all Ammë," I said peeling my sister away and handing her to my mother. My sister never stirs from her sleep and only cuddles into amme's soft form.
"Yes well here account will be far different from yours, hm?"
"Ammë, Suri would like to spend time with her husband. Alone," Víloma chastises Ammë. Ammë then blushes and Atta swats Víloma. Víloma just gives both of our parents grins. I take Tarakano's hand in mine and we glance at each other.
"We are leaving now," Tarakano announced. We walk away and the teasing calls come in. We both blush at some of the comments that are not fit for children's ears. We go to the tent that we had been sharing for Seasons now. We shared it for we knew we would be true to each other and no rumor would matter of what we did along our fur bed would matter. Even if they told us they saw us stark naked under the skies it would not have mattered for we both loved true. It had taken me time to come to this point where I would willing make that deep connection to Tarakano. I needed time to come to that fullness of trust for it is far different from trusting my life unto him. I knew he had my back in any hunt. Tarakano grabs the blanket and I grab the small basket I had prepared. We leave the tent and the camp far behind making our way to where we once drummed together after the promise I gave to him.
We set up our bed and I lay the basket to the side. Tarakano undoes the braids to my hair and I undo his. It is a quiet intimacy we allow ourselves, the threads of his silver hair slipping through mine as bead and feather comes loose. It becomes a slow and careful dance. It is not like lighting a fire or maybe it is. We built our relationship and laid it carefully out to be consumed in union.
Quendi say that marriage is done with the bodily union and I know this is not so. Tarakano knows that this is not so. No, marriage is done with the heart with vows honored internally. To love and care for one another through injury and insult. Marriage is done when phairē or spirit join in union and the love bond becomes an eternal bond of spirit. This is what I have always been afraid of and what has taken me so long to overcome. What will Tarakano say when his phairē connect with mine?
The love and the softness in those green eyes have won me over. Seeing him bleed from defending me while we were on a hunt for a pack of wolves who were troubling the herbs won me over. There was always these little moments like him being an older brother to my two younger siblings. It was him teaching me the ways of the Tir-e-Twaina with such patience that helped to triumph over my fear. No, with him, I gained what I have longed, for that I had seen in my parents and in my siblings choices for partners.
I had a lover, a companion. I had someone who would support me in my choices and stand by my side. I had someone whose brave heart could match mine but temper it with wisdom. Here was a ner could challenge me and not fold. I could fight, I could play, and we could slip into each other's lives, in, and out, but our hearts were never far. I am the red wind who runs through the plains and dances among the leaves of the forest. Tarakano would never cage the wind but would take pleasure in it, in the stillness of the air and in the gentle breeze as it passes by.
We lay together later with his hand stroking through my hair. Tears are slipping down my cheek though I could not express the truth of why. Maybe it was the beautiful of the moment or maybe it was his total love and acceptance of me. Maybe I was just overwhelmed by the whole experience of his spirit intertwining with mine in the most intimate of manners. No matter what Quendi tells you of the union of spirits it does not prepare one for the truth of it all. It is an experience that goes beyond words where you can feel your lover close to you in thought and in emotion.
"Rest Suri," Tarakano murmurs. I sigh and nod against his chest. I slowly drift into the dream land.
I am standing before two trees one emitting golden light much like the hair of the Minyar. It was by far more beautiful than any hair of the Minyar. The other was one of a silver light akin to the silver hair that a few families of the Nelyar sported. They were so massive in height even from the distance. They are a stark contrast against the mountains in the distance.
"You the one!" A little girl's voice said. I look down and a little girl who almost looks like a little me except with silver hair is there. She begins to tug on my hand.
"Ammë! Come on!" She pouts. I find myself running around with her laughing. She runs into the hills and I cannot catch her. There is several distinct children's laughters and they fade into the distance as I face forward. I finally ascend to the top of the hill and instead of finding children I find Tarakano holding hands with myself as we walk down the hill. We are laughing and we make our way ever closer to the trees.
I awake gasping for breath and I sit up. Tarakano instantly awakes by my side. His arms slip around me as I tremble. Emotions are shifting like tree branches in the wind between him and I.
"Suri?"
"I had a dream...of two trees," I whispered with awe and then I spoke softly. "They were so beautiful how their lights mingled against the backdrop of mountains."
"You dreamt them?"
"Yes, I dreamt of us walking down a hill towards two trees. I dreamt of a daughter…" I turn and bury my face into his shoulder.
"I have never spoken of my vision among the mirror pools have I?"
"No…"
"I went several times as it took me awhile to get the whole vision. In the visions I was often playing tag with a daughter and sometimes other children too sporting silver or red hair. They were never quite the same. At last I was ascending a hill and there you were waiting. You had a huge smile on your face. 'It took you long enough,' you said. The way the golden light caught on your hair made it look like it was a river of fire. You were so beautiful even as you turned and shouted at me to 'race you to the tree.'" I laugh at this.
"That does sound like me."
"It was just a vision but I was determined to wait for you, to find you. The laugh, the smile, the way you moved, I was instantly in love though we had never met." Tarakano kisses my shoulder before resting his head upon it. His feelings are warm seeping through the bond between us.
"You did not realize the trouble you find then," I said with another laugh bubbling up.
"Hmph. I would have embraced it all knowing all that I do now. Trouble comes in like a wind, sometimes gentle and occasionally destructive," Tarakano teases and lays another kiss but this on my neck. I sigh contentedly.
"Let us go see our families," I said. There was the ritual of breaking fast with both families after the marriage. Tarakano and I both dressed in our best fur and leather. Most of our gear was worn from travel and use but there was always a set we kept clean. Ceremonies, feasts, and councils always went on no matter the shadows.
After dressing we settled for carefully braiding each other's hair. His in the style of the Tir-e-Twaina and mine in the style of the Palar-e-Rokasta. There were more feathers intertwined in my hair and only one in his. He and others of the Tir-e-Twaina had adopted a style of one feather after spending time with the Palar-e-Rokasta. The braids were not a means of identification but more of a means of keeping our hair out of the way. It was favored to leave one's hair loose but for those of us who ran through trees, rode their horses, and did any form of activity hair got in the way of, we left it braided.
Tarakano pulls me tight against him for a moment. We stand there in silence like this before we separate. His hand grabs onto my hand and he squeezes it gently. We leave the tent behind and the near silence continues to reign in camp. The Quendi are whispering back and forth as we weave through the various tents. Thankfully we are not disrupted from our purpose.
We arrive and find the nesi of both our families hustling about over campfires. The various fur rugs that we use for dining are laid out in lines. Clean bowls and spoons are laid out. I know the set of dishes as my grandfather on my Atta's side has spent time creating them as more members of our family got added. There were generic bowls of the same style and then he would craft specific ones based upon the family's member personality and what they did. One could always tell the location by where each bowl was. Of course one could tell if one was in trouble in my Grandfather's eye by the location of your spot as well. After a particular trick I played with Kanatasulo, Víloma, and other young cousins at the time, we were placed separately away from the group and each other. Grandfather had actually spread us across the room and told us we were not to talk.
My Ammë spots us entering the space and leaves the fire she is tending too. Ammë's blue eyes are sparkling brightly as she stares at us for a moment. She leans over and kisses Tarakano's cheek first and the mine.
"Look at you two," she murmurs then crows loudly. "A nice strong bond! Oh I am so happy for you both!"
"Come, sit," Grandmother Iminyë commands coming over and taking us by the hand. She leads up to the head of one section of the line up of fur rugs. All the neri and the young children take their places while the nesi all begin to serve the food. It's nearly a whole family affair with the neri dolling out the food to the children first who look at it greedily. Liraiwë is sitting in front of Atta is grinning happily. There is a fruit filled bread beside her little bowl. It is her favorite food and she would eat it all the time if she could. Soon all the bowls containing food in place are filled and the nesi sit down themselves.
"Where is Ingwë?" I ask looking around.
"He is still with that Arōmēz so I have heard," Grandfather Imin said from the group to the right of us. Tarakano and I both glance and exchange smiles with each other over this comment. I can feel his silent laughter at this. Ingwë could focus intensely upon a subject and forget all else. Ingwë's Atta often despaired that Ingwë would ever marry simply because of this. Ingwë never showed interest in a nes as he was often focusing heavily upon a task or some interest of his.
"We know how he gets Grandfather," Tarakano said quietly.
"Indeed, he is focused. Is that not why you have allowed him to start to take over the many Council meetings?" I ask in turn. Grandfather Imin gives both of us a sharp look then snorts.
"You perceive much for one who is never there."
"We have ears to hear," I said. The wind blows through the gathering of our families and in with it the flow of information. I was still not the best at hearing all of what it is to say. Víloma and I both startle though and glance at each other.
"Víloma? Karanisuri?" Ammë asks noticing both of us startle at the same time. Ingwë strides in with Arōmēz. Arōmēz is studying the surroundings carefully. Our whole family other than Liraiwë is startled to see this tall dark male.
"Grandfather, Grandmother, and everyone, this is Arōmēz. He is a quick study in our language."
"It is a pleasure to meet you," Arōmēz said. His voice is deep, rumbling, and thrumming with power and a heavy accent. The words are strange coming out of his mouth. Arōmēz turns his gaze upon Tarakano and I. He tilts his head to the side looking thoughtful.
"You are different today, a bond between you have grown strong."
"We are married."
"I am married. My wife is Vána." Arōmēz's words seem simple and slightly broken. They almost child like if it was not for his full grown stature and the fierce intelligence in his eyes.
"You remind me of sister Nessa. She is fierce like you."
"Thank you Arōmēz for the compliment," I reply. Arōmēz grins and nods.
"May we join you?" Ingwë asks formally. There are a few shifts in place and Ingwë and Arōmēz sit near Imin and Iminyë. At first there is a silence as everyone is uncomfortable with this new comer. Slowly but surely conversation begins to start up as people pass food and serve food to each other. Iminyë is warm and gentle as always politely asking Arōmēz questions about his life. Arōmēz talks about his life but he skirts carefully around the topics.
"Do you think he is holding back?" I ask Tarakano.
"There is truth but he is no force of shadow or the trees and land would not welcome it as it does," Tarakano answers. I nod and close my eyes for a moment. I am not as close to the land and trees as Tarakano but with a little focus I can hear the land sing of Arōmēz's presence. It is wild in it's welcoming to Arōmēz. The wind blows and I am distracted by a dark song.
"Suri!" Tarakano is pulling on my hand and I blink. I realized I was standing up and I blushed. Tarakano's eyes are dark with worry.
"A Shadow is about. It is on the wind," I mutter to Tarakano as I sit. My family becomes instantly concerned. Tarakano strokes my face grounding me to reality. His own spirit is a calling unto my own.
"How close is it?" Ingwë asked his voice dark. I dwell upon what I heard and gripped Tarakano's hand in mine. I can still hear it on the wind. It is not one song but many, a dark chorus. I shudder at the feeling of the dark whispers that grasp at my own spirit. It feels like a corrupted language or a language that corrupts turning all to ash and darkness.
"There are many. I fear that we have lost many since the arrival of Arōmēz. In the panic many seem to be running this way and that. The Shadows will have waylaid them taking them from us forever," I said at last. I glance up at Ingwë and I know his pale expression looks much the same as I. Ingwë to had heard the dark whispers once upon a time.
"Shadows?" Arōmēz glances around at us all and his own face echoes the concern. He tests the word again his accent heavy. He turns his gaze to me and there is a calling in those green eyes that echoed of wild forests. I feel it again, like when I first met him, the grasping of communion as he touches my own mind. It is a wild song that I feel and hear louder as the connection grows strong. It feels like a song between land and sky, of wild rides and wild hunts. There is that questioning pulse that presses fast into my mind. I know he wants and I turn my mind to my memories that are never far.
I call up the memory of Phanarigyë following the dark whispers. There was my own wild caged song of the wind and the answering call of the land as I faced the Shadow in struggle. There was the glimpse of the face of Shadow that I tried to forget for it seemed mangled. I call to the memories of the Dark Riders I have seen as I ride through the hills. There are the dark whispers that I catch on the wind though they are far. The trembling of fear as I come across where a Shadow crossed the land. The Shadows that haunt us was like a blight that touched the land and stained it, a wildfire that burned through the land leaving the land marred in feeling. The trees burned with anger, the winds raged, and the land slept through the passage of the Shadows even as the wild creatures fled them. There were the creatures that seemed strange versions of those we hunted, communed, and played with. There was a fierce intelligence to them that should not be there. It was not that animals were dumb but this intelligence felt as wrong as the Shadows. My own feelings were mixed into the transmission, the love and frustration for wanting to protect the Quendi. I wanted to produce the song again that fought against Shadow but I could not. The Quests for answers and listening to the Stars for advice but there was none to be had. There was even glimpses of the memories as I stood at the mirror pools searching desperately for any glimpse that would give us aid to fight, to have hope.
Arōmēz's feelings turn fast as I reveal each memory. There is surprise but also anger. It is a smouldering wild rage that made his own eyes look the fire that I once started in a forest. I knew as I stared into his eyes with his mind embracing mine that all Arōmēz desired was to protect us. He wanted to defend us from the Shadows, to liberate us. In this moment I glimpsed that Arōmēz was far more than us Quendi. The connection dissolved instantly and both of us stared at one another with surprise. My face then hardens as I begin to speak.
"You are more than you are. I do not doubt that my cousin Ingwë has seen this. Would you save us? Would you defend? Would you give us hope? We Quendi are losing ourselves to the Shadows. I have felt your love for us. What will you do Arōmēz?"
"I will defend. I will not let Quendi fall into Shadows," Arōmēz said. In his voice there was no room for argument. He turns to Ingwë and asks a question about the food. Ingwë shoots me a glance before answering Arōmēz's question. I choose to sit down then and continue eating. Ammë and Atta stare at me surprised and Tarakano only shakes his head.
"Was that really necessary daughter?" Atta gives me a hard look that left me squirming when I was a child. I give Atta a bitter smile.
"Atta, if only you could see. I wish I could explain but it goes beyond words. Arōmēz is more than us and only a fool would choose to ignore that. Arōmēz is no Shadow. He is a great light and all the land welcomes him. It welcomes him in a way that is different from us Quendi. I know not what he is but he is no Quendi." Atta looks troubled for a moment and then sighs.
"Daughter, tell us, will you give us grandchildren soon?" Tarakano spits out his food at Atta's question and his laughter is loud and booming.
"Atta, we are not ready. Suri and I am of one heart and one mind, to us our duty to our people is not of children but towards keeping them safe. We will guard them and teach them and watch over our people," Tarakano said before taking a bite of food again.
"Lindonin, their hearts are wild and young. Their Stars are not our Stars. At least our little wind has found another who can run with her, hm?" Ammë glances at Atta. "Remember how long I waited for you while you were to busy off singing to the birds, hm?"
I keep my mouth shut trying hard not to laugh as Atta looks disgruntled. He mutters something that even I cannot hear though it was just enough for Ammë to hear. She thwacks him on the arm. Ammë's eyes are filled with love for Atta. This feast was full of love despite the presence of the strange new rider. It was in the food, the laughter, and the voices that spoke to one another. The wind danced between us carrying the barest whispers of words and love out among the camp.
Later Ingwë sitting Arōmēz begin to talk to the other neri. Others soon join various leaders of the different groups including Finwë, Olwë, and his brothers. I do not attend the meeting for though I am a recognized leader of the Palar-e-Rokasta, I know my two older brothers, and Tarakano knew my heart well enough to speak for me. Two of my aunts help to serve mead to the neri and nesi who attend.
Instead, I help some of the nesi of my family do the dishes. I have two great-grandmothers due to Atta's side, as well as two grandmothers. On my Ammë's side there is only one grandmother, Iminyë. Liraiwë and the other youngest of my female cousins help dry them happily with Víloma. The two giggle and my twin smiles indulgently at the two redheads. There is a moment of silence before I start to sing.
"There is a time to eat and a time to clean," I sing softly and dunk the bowl in the hot water. Using a piece of linen I scrub it clean in the soapy water...I pass the bowl over to Iminyë.
"The wolf has ate let us not make a scene," Víloma continues.
"The dishes are quite filthy," my Tatyar great-grandmother sings tossing her red hair back a small smile on her lips.
"My oh my they look so guilty!" Ammë sings.
"It is time for the wrath of the nesi," I pick up.
"For you are all quite messy!" Liraiwë finishes the line.
"Yet after all of this washing," my Nelyar grandmother sings and her hair is an auburn. It is my Tatyar family that I owe this bright shade of red.
"Must come all the drying!" Víloma sings loudly and we all dissolve into easy smiles.
"Alas before us is this great task," my red-headed young cousin sings.
"We lack time to bask!" I sing back.
"For all of this to be cleaned grime," Ammë continues the song.
"Is not a nes's pastime!" Liraiwë sings happily. My young cousin only hums not knowing the lines as well. We dissolve into laughter and Víloma picks up the next song making fun of neri and their messes. It quickly dissolves into the silly songs that we sing with the children. Liraiwë teaches us a new one. At one point my young cousin reaches over into a bin and splashes Liraiwë. My little sister chases after my young cousin throughout the small area interrupting the leaders. They were like two little dashes of flame before my young cousin jumps into her atta's arm.
"No fair," Liraiwë mutters glaring at the other nes. The nes sticks out her tongue.
"Come sit with me little one," Arōmēz said. My little sister sticks out her tongue at her cousin and sits with Arōmēz. Arōmēz is so large compared to Liraiwë. She almost looks like one of the small dolls one of the Tatyar were beginning to make. There is such a look of awe in Arōmēz's eyes as she sits with him. Seeing the way he interacts with my sister makes almost feel that he has never seen children before.
I help finish dry the dishes listening to the talk. I have been half paying attention to them. There is talk still about what we could do about the Shadows. There is also a new farming community that had set themselves up further in the plains towards the Shadowed Forest. It mainly consisted of some of the Nelyar and Tatyar who chafed at the rules or had enough of the crowds that were forming due to the towns.
With the dishes are finished I leave my family and disappear to find Berowë. I find him exactly where I expected, on a rock overlooking the river and the plains. It is a decent sized boulder that one had to grasp onto carefully and slowly climb before topping out. The view was worth it though. The campfires dotted through the whole Great Gathering. The herds of horses were carefully on one side. I feel nostalgic as I stand there beside Berowë looking outward. How many times have we sat here looking out talking?
"Did you talk to Tarakano about us?" I choke at this question and look down at him. His eyes are serious.
"That's the first question you ask me? Why would I not? If he professed any love for me, he would trust me. He would not turn me away due to our past relations," I said. I sat down beside him shoulder-to-shoulder. I do not look at him anymore but I just stare out at the tents, the people, and the stars upon the horizon.
"Do you regret it?"
"No. Why would I?" I sigh and the wind passes by ruffling our hair.
"I hope I see her one day. I hope she waits as you have," Berowë admits. "I hope she accepts me for all that I was and all that I am."
"I do not think the Stars would be so cruel."
"Yet Quendi are Quendi."
"The blame could be laid on the Shadows that have marred our homes, our lives," I suggest. Berowë heaves a heavy sigh my opinion. I shift my gaze up to the Stars letting them make me feel small and safe for the sky is very large and I am small. The sky and the Stars makes the problem of the Shadows seem limited.
"The question I meant to ask was how does it feel to be married? To be bonded in truth?"
"As incredible as the Stars," I breathe out. I can feel Tarakano with me. It is like a presence inside and I do not feel alone at all. He feels never far from my own heart, my own spirit. I can feel his very life. The communion with our minds, our spirits, is so much easier than that of anything else now that we were bonded in truth. It felt effortless. There was no reaching out to Tarakano he was just there.
"I am glad you have him."
"Me as well. I never got to ask you about why you did not go with us on that journey to the Shadowed Forest. Will you tell me why?"
"I have done many foolish actions in my life. I was not ready for this one. Knowing now the Shadows and hearing the effect of those who have come in contact...I am glad I did not go." Berowë offers me a flask and I take it taking a swig of the alcohol.
"It is a terrible moment to face them."
"You still feel the taint?"
"Yes, though it has gotten easier." The dark whispers upon the winds were like a calling unto my soul. They would gladly have me drown in the darkness and in torment. I could not count the times that Tarakano and the others have saved my life. They would hold me down even as I struggled, fought really, against them to go to the Shadows. It made me feel weak.
"I have never heard you so troubled before." Berowë states the obvious taking the flask back from me. I hear him take a great gulp of it before covering it again.
"There is much that weighs on my mind Berowë including the strange rider that has appeared. Whatever the rumors make of him there is much strength in him. There is might upon his brow and fist no matter how he appears. He is more than he is."
"Do you think he will tell you his story?"
"Not I but perhaps my cousins or one of the other leaders." I run my hands through my hair braiding loose strands closely. It is how I fidget.
"Is it that you do not care for this rider's story?" Berowë once again takes a drink. He offers it but I push it away.
"Is it not that I care or not care. I would like truth from him but I know it will be slow in coming. I am not like the clan of the Minyar even if it is my heritage. Still, I feel there is a change in the air and I recall once my brother's vision of me running from shadow and flame. I thought it spoke of my journey but now I believe not. No, the best of our lives and the worst of our lives have yet to come Berowë. Under those Two Trees I feel that is where our destinies will be made." In truth my Ammë's people were far given to the glimpses. I was one of them still despite my lack of seeing through the mirror pools. I never saw much at all but I could feel it. This moment though, I glimpsed it a terrible and mighty history would arise. My whole body trembles though I do not understand it. It is fast and frightening and fades by like a floating leaf does.
"Destinies to be made, is that so?"
"The choices we have that will come will be ripples and all else will flow from that." I look to Berowë as I say this and my voice is filled with conviction.
"By the Stars, mote it be."
"Mote it be." I sag suddenly feeling weak.
"Are you well?" Berowë asks softly.
"My clan's strange gift came upon me then…" Berowë shoves the flask in my hands and I take a long drink. I gasp as I pull away from chugging it.
"I feel sorry for you Minyar. You lack control over that." I cannot stand the look of pity in Berowë's eyes.
"I am glad I see little enough of that. I am content with the gifts that lie in other area's. Though why it comes now of all times…" I sigh and lay back.
"The arrival of the rider is a new moment in our life. The Seasons will have turned but his appearance in our lives have forever changed us Quendi," Berowë said.
"Yes this is true…" We sit there in silence as I gain back my strength. The silence is soon removed and we speak of our lives. We have hardly seen each other since that Great Gathering where I met Tarakano. We spend time laughing at each other's antics and our own family's antics.
"So, this is where you find you," Tarakano exclaims! I sit up and look over to find Tarakano had yet to make the last move to get over the rock.
"You hold Council for both of us," I said and I give Tarakano an easy grin. Tarakano pulls himself up the rest of the way and sits beside me and Berowë has fallen silent. Tarakano ignores this and proceeds to speak of the Council.
"The Council was as it is usually. Imin has called for people to check up on that outlying farm. With all the missing people since the arrival of Arōmēz no one is quite sure if they came or not. Then, again our population growth has continued and we Quendi are becoming as numerous as the Stars."
"That is, not surprise. Where once we used to know each of our own faces now we are beginning to find strangers among us," Berowë said. Tarakano and I both nod in agreement at this.
Tarakano then continues, "However, Imin's request is that Ingwë goes with you Karanisuri. Arōmēz will no doubt follow Ingwë to be among the Palar-e-Rokasta."
"Ah, we both know that is no surprise. I am disgruntled for others will seek to join us and little do I like it. We must stealth away with the Hunter high in the sky so that we do no gain followers who know little of the rider's ways."
"Well, I am sure we will have help from both of our families."
"I to will help. I am sure between some of our friends that we can run any interference you may need to leave unhindered by those who do not know the rider's ways."
"Thank you Berowë."
"You are most welcome Karanisuri." Thus, it came to pass that Arōmēz dwelled with us Palar-e-Rokasta for a time after the Great Gathering. We left the day before it's end to escape the attentions of those who would not be welcome among my seasoned riders. I have rarely inducted new rider's into my group as it had already become over large. I would only do so when there was a split off and that had not happened for many Seasons.
It was strange to have the extra people who two they knew and one whom my riders only knew by rumors. Besides, Ingwë and Arōmēz, Finwë also came with us. Elwë and Olwë would have come but they knew little of horses and so they were among those who helped us slipped away. I have never ridden with Finwë but I knew he had dwelled with the Palar-e-Rokasta for a time. He handled himself quite well including dealing with the way I ordered my rider's about.
We made good time to find the farming community well in hand. We spoke to them and memorized the words they wished for us to deliver to their families that dwelt in towns. This was a task the Palar-e-Rokasta took seriously. Generally we carried the news and even goods depending up the group of riders but for the outlying small communities we sometimes carried word to family's any new births or even marriages. Not all people waited till the Great Gathering to have a marriage.
"I suggest we patrol further afield Kheri," one of my rider's suggested.
"This close to the Shadowed Forest…" There is fear in the voice of a ner behind me.
"Let us not dwell in fear! This community is as precious us as any other. Are they not deserving our goodwill?" Kanatasulo speaks up from the left. Ingwë and Arōmēz are right next to him.
"I wonder if we could get a group of riders to patrol near this community," I murmur.
"We should propose that as the next Council," Tarakano suggests.
"Maybe we can make a lonely outposts for ourselves while we are it," a nes jokes.
"Let us ride and see what we shall find. There is no fear in my heart!"
"Alala!" I cry out. There is a loud echo of the same cry and we start to trot then canter forward. It soon becomes a gallop as we race across the hills.
"Ei! Ei!" Someone cries out spotting something. They wave a small piece of dyed linen in the air to show their location.
"Ei! Ei!" A ner cries out coming to a stop besides the person. We soon circle and the riders allow Kanatasulo and I into the middle. There amidst the dirt and grass were the footprints of the cat like creatures.
"It seems they have come further south," Kanatasulo remarks. I nod and we begin to follow the tracks. My stallion walks following Kanatasulo's as I close my eyes. Foolish to some but I have spent many seasons upon horses. I know this one as well as any other mostly. I listen to the land, to the wind, and then I feel it. There is a tug of wrongness, the whisper of darkness and taint.
"Do you feel it Tarakano?"
"Yes." Tarakano's voice is strong with his answer. I glance around at the faces around me and I see nods from fellow Nelyar who can feel the tug of the land even more strongly than I do.
"We have a hunt before us," Ingwë said.
"I trust you will stay safe and not do anything foolish, hm?" Kanatasulo teases our cousin. Ingwë's blue eyes flash dangerously but he laughs it off.
"True I am no rider and nor am I foolish to think of myself as well skilled as those here. I will do my best to not act as foolish as the day someone set the forest on fire." I blush at the remark of my own foolish actions long ago.
"This is not then and this is now. There is no fire see?" Kanatasulo digs in my defense and there are chuckles all about. I begin to undo the knot that ties the horn to the saddle.
"May I?" Arōmēz asked with his deep rumbling voice. He has his own horn in his hands. I stop my actions and stare for a moment before nodding. Arōmēz waits for me to retye the knot for the horn. He raises his horn to his lips and he gives two short blasts and one long one.
There was no build up to what happened. It seemed almost like a strange dream settled upon all of us riders. There was a fire in our blood and a wild song in our hearts. With the cry of "Alala" we all moved forward. The world was alive in a strange way! It was filled with music and spirit that spoke to us and our senses.
"Alala!" The cry echoes again with Arōmēz formed the spear leading us onward. There was excitement in my blood. I felt to sharp, to fierce. There was a sharp connection to my sworn riders but also to Arōmēz. I could feel him there as a vast strong presence that was also terrible to behold. Arōmēz's strength and spirit was beyond all Quendi together though it was little concern to me at the moment. The wind was howling with us as we rode forth and we riders became like a storm cloud with our horses kicking up dust and dirt. We rode forth uninhibited by ourselves like we were drunk on a Hunt and yet our senses were not dulled.
Arōmēz lead us like he too could sense the shadow upon the land that came with the creatures. The land welcomed us in a way I had never felt before thrumming with power, Arōmēz's power, it's own spirit, and our own spirits intermingling. We came upon them fast and another hunt cry goes out. The battle was fast and the features felled fast by skill of bow and spear. The land rejoiced as the cat creatures died. It groaned with pain as their blood splattered across the dirt. Yet the land and all our senses were filled with the joy of a successful hunt.
As the bodies burned and we stood a distance away I found myself staring at Arōmēz. It is not I and not even Ingwë who approaches Arōmēz. Finwë is the one who approaches his expression hard. It is not an expression I have seen Finwë use to often.
"What are you?" Finwë's voice was solid except the syllables of the last word was stressed. It seemed to echo through all of us. We are waited silently like the breath before the storm. Arōmēz remains silent his gaze steady on Finwë before focusing on each of us in turn.
"I am one of the ayanûz," Arōmēz begins before launching into his story. He spoke of Eru and of the Timeless Halls. Arōmēz took time to explain The Music of the Ayanûz and the themes of Eru. We were a product of Eru's will and the Ayanûz had nothing to do with the creation us. We were all Children of Eru. Arōmēz spoke of his leader Mânawenûz and of those who were considered Authorities. We were not foolish to doubt as there was a ring of authority in his voice. Even the Stars seemed to sing along as he spoke to us of these events and their struggles against the Dark One, Mêlkôz. It was his minions, his will that was twisting and marring all that we knew.
"Will you protect us?" A nes asks quietly with her eyes reddened from tears.
"I would like to spend some more time with you all before I must return. I would teach you how to defeat the Shadows so that you may not be defenseless."
"I believe I speak for all of us when I say that we agree wholeheartedly," Ingwë said and there were nods from all of us. Anyone who could teach us to defend against the shadows would have our love.
"Perhaps we can start with this small community as they are a lonely outpost and closer to the Shadowed Forest," Finwë suggested and there was a rush of excitement among the riders. While we waited for the bodies to finish burning Arōmēz began to attempt to teach us. It was hard at first for Arōmēz struggled with the words to explain. Half the time he ended up making music and one could feel the difference in it. It was not how we sang. No, it was filled with energy or even a substance to it that seemed to touch and interact with the universe. The Songs Arōmēz sang felt very much alive.
The bodies burned and no progress was made. We made our way back to the small farming community and we dwelled there for a time. Arōmēz explained his story, his origins, and that of Eru. He then began once again to instruct us all. I was not the first or even the second to begin to use it.
We were all breaking our fast and I was listening to the wind when it happened. I suddenly Sang into the wind weaving a message of love to my family that sent the wind suddenly flying towards Minmbar. It left me stunned and exhaustion hit me suddenly. There was a spark of recognition remembering the song battle between the Shadow and I. There was surprised looks all around for it was now how the others were attempting to Sing. Arōmēz gives me a considering look and I just smile.
"Well, it is a start," I smile. Kanatasulo laughs at this and hugs me. Two members of the community did well and we left shortly after that. The Storm Season was fast approaching and we rode hard to Irin Orosundova. Arōmēz continued the education helping as many people as he could. People would crowd into the Council Lodge for his lessons. It was hard for there were many people who wanted to learn but there was not enough room in the building for all of the townspeople. It took several sessions throughout the Wolf being in the sky and one with the Hunter low on the horizon before we could get all. Even the children listened carefully to Arōmēz's lessons. It was more defense than attack.
When the Storm Season let up we rode hard to Minmbar. There once again Arōmēz began to give lessons but at least everyone was able to sit outside. Arōmēz kept a close eye on it all carefully especially those who began to Sing. Not everyone could Sing in the time that was given and Arōmēz seemed almost afraid. He warned people to be careful to not use the Songs on each other.
In this manner several Seasons turned with Arōmēz dwelling among us. Ingwë, Finwë, and Elwë spent the most time with him traveling to each town. It was rotation that would go about between the towns. They took to the Plains to help with the small farming communities that dotted the landscape. The Shadows seemed to pull back from us and there seemed to be no need to Sing.
I heard it all during my brief travels. My time was spent namely dwelling with my family and Tarakano's in Minmbar. I manage at one point to convince Ammë to let Liraiwë come for a season. Víloma came to and us siblings rode all over the Plains for a Dry Season. Liraiwë fully enjoyed it all. She often took naps with one of our arm's securing her in place. We almost slipped away for a second Dry Season but to our surprise Ammë and Atta came with us. The biggest surprise was that Tarakano's Ammë and Atta came as well. Arōmēz did not travel with us nor did Ingwë or the others. Those few Seasons were the warmest as we were all so close having the time of our lives.
I did eventually settle back into Minmbar and let Kanatasulo have full reign over our group of riders. Despite my love for my little sister it took on a few turn of the Seasons for my desire to travel struck up again. As much as I loved to carve wood like my Atta and my Atta's atta, it did not fill me up with purpose. I tried gardening with Víloma and that was a disaster. I did meet up with Berekegyi and Istakemiel and started healing lessons again. It was just around that time when the Shadows seemed to almost disappear due to the presence of Arōmēz that he left us.
All seemed well for a time...
Language Notes:
Nēthā - Sister
Amanēthā - Mother-Sister, my way of saying Aunt in Elvish.
Lindonin- My singer
Alala - I went looking for a some kind of Battle Cry that could sound kind of...elvish? I ended up finding this Greek one that I felt sounded appropriate.
Song versus song - It is the difference between normal music and Songs of Power.
Character Notes:
Tarakano - Originally my plan was to make him younger than Karanisuri by a few years. I have never mentioned within this fic (outside character notes) his age but I have decided that Tarakano needs to be older. It explains why he doesn't meet her for a time. Also not all people would obviously attend the Great Gathering and the people of the Tir-e-Twaina stuck to the forest a lot.
Elwen - A younger sister of Elwë.
Arōmēz - Is supposedly the Valarian name of Oromë. The fact that he is mistaken for a dark rider makes me think that his coloring in general would be dark.
Nahar - I made Nahar black cause no freaking way the elves with their freaking amazing eyes could mistake a freaking white horse for a shadow.
Mêlkôz - Melkor did not have a Valarian name. I have attempted to kind of make one based on the names that I have seen as Valarian especially as Quenya seems have been influenced by the language of the Ainur/Valar.
Chapter Notes:
Telepathy - I know somewhere in my history of being a bit of a nerdy Tolkien fan I read bits about telepathy among the elves. I've decided to use it to add in the "magic" of the Elves. I came to the conclusion that the elves of Cuiviénen had a rougher version than the skill of the Ainur. It is a skill that I believe all Elves could develop. They can commune with living beings this way. Celegorm learned the ability to speak with birds and beasts and wood elves are told of speaking to the trees. The ability to hear on the "winds" and anything said near water are rendered differently from telepathy. The Elves clearly did have great skill of the "mind" or shall we say "spirit" as they can be one and the same. I am trying to render it in that strange surrealism that crosses between real, fantastic, and say, almost spiritual.
Marriage - I went for this manner because I deeply believe that it was more a manner of bonding with spirit than in physical union. It can be important, yes, but if we are talking about the d and v simply it throws out f/f and m/m and I don't think the insertion technique should be what is required for marriage...Which I hope to plot at some point. Elves physically fooling around would make them seem more wild to their cousins from Aman or even those who fell underneath Melian's domain to an extent.
Author's Notes:
I hope you enjoyed this chapter. I never realized how long it would get. I decided to break it up into two chapters. If I have misplaced any words or put the wrong word in the wrong place, I apologize. I seem to be a bit out of it lately. I have tried to read through but my brain sometimes just does this fill in autocorrect and I do not see it.
Tinuneth - Thank you so much :) I have never heard of that book but I'll check it out. I'm glad! I've always admired the Native Americans. I did look at a lot of early cultures and tried to best forge one that would best represent the elves. It actually started because when think that Noldor, andeven the Sindar considered the Silvan and Thranduil's folk as "wild and dangerous" got me thinking.
As for the trees, my thought are a bit discombobulated about it. When I first started trying to form this project my biggest questions were why is it this way and how it came to be this way? Fantasy is meant to be fantasy but I wanted a bit more logical explanation to the way things were especially when it came to the earliest of elves. I'll try and bullet point it to make it easier for myself and others.
I remember Legolas saying that "the elves woke up the trees" or some sort. For me this was really inspirational because I feel there is an element of animism to the whole feel which is what I am going for with the winds, the water, plants, and animals. This world is so very much alive.
What really started me thinking about it was the whole 144 elves thing. 144 Elves did not go to Aman, they were three hosts of the clans that left. They had to be far more numerous than 144 elves but as to how many that could be that is quite questionable. That being said despite the fact that elves were the fairest and the strongest during this time of those being born there, the little ones had to eat. There is no way that said elves are born and grow without nutrition.
Passage from the Silmarillion, Of the Beginning of Days: ""And thus it was by the power of Ulmo that even under the darkness of Melkor life coursed still through many secret lodes, and the Earth did not die, and to all who are lost in the darkness of wandered far from the light of the Valar the ear of Ulmo was ever open; nor has he ever forsaken Middle-Earth." This key passage is what me think that the waters was also key. Ulmo never abandoned the world and so I have imagined that the world is alive due to the waters and his spirit, his very power flows through the land as much as Melkor's does.
Soon after that there is another passage about Yavanna. "And in that time of dark Yavanna also was unwilling utterly to forsake the Outer Lands; for all things that grow are dear to her, and she mourned for the works that had begun in Middle-Earth but Melor had marred. Therefore, leaving the house of Aule and the flowering meads of Valinor she would come at times and heal the hurts of Melkor"
Sequoia trees in the best of conditions in 200 years could grow up to 17 feet and yet in the worst of conditions could take several thousand years to do so.
So, there is power in the Valar and it runs through the land keeping it alive. The elves have power that awaken the world and they are more in-tune to the very spirits and life of it. The Maiar (like Melian) fall in-between them.
In the case of Melian I think her power is such that she would provide "best of conditions" towards the trees and make them grow into ancient growth.
Again, falling about on the Great Hosts of elves going to Valinor (and the various splits that still render the many of the Nelyar who dwell into Valinor pretty great), I think many years would have had to pass by. There is just now it could not. So, by the power of the Valar keeping it alive and even with the touch of the elves, the land is growing, changing though I would yet to make it a 4,000 year old yew tree like in North Wales.
There is a difference in the Wild Wood the Tir-e-Twaina live in and the woods that are closer to Melkor's dwelling. Melkor's power marrs the world and so I have imagined it marring the forest.
There also seems to be a lot more passage for the time of the Elves and their exile that is not really accounted for. I've seen the timeline listed for the Year of the Trees and it doesn't make as much sense to me.
I hope this helps with my reasoning :)