Chapter 9: Snake in the Garden (Angharad)
Note: If you're a map person there's a map I made that goes with this fic to show where the characters travel. It includes references to certain geographic landmarks you should be able to find on any 4th age map of Middle Earth. It is entirely my own brainchild - I own nothing, I claim no great accuracy. But it has an Eastern hemisphere and the southern continents shown on Tolkien's sketches of Arda in the 1st age have been revived (or just shown again).
I can't link outside of ff or imbed illustrations here, but you can see the map on my DeviantArt page if you will. My username is still fishing4stars. Look in the Fan Art & Illustrations sections. As it is (as off July 7, 2023) still a draft your constructive comments are welcome, so long as they are kind. I claim neither to be a lore master nor a master map maker. k?
(~***~)
By the time the new captives had all been brought aboard the typical time had come and gone for the evening routine in the hold: food, water, and heavily guarded trips to the privy. The pre-existing occupants were getting restless and annoyed that their brief reprieve of the day was being delayed for the new inmates.
Before setting the guards to their normal evening tasks, the Collector addressed the new folk with the magic man translating for those that did not speak Westron.
"Demons you should know that you are not like the others here. Their debts cost me money, which I must make back. But I have already been paid once to remove you – the humans of these lands are eager to be rid of the mischief and evil you visit on them."
The Collector held up a metal object. It was no longer than the length of his hand. It had a round, intricate pommel and four blades that came together at a sharp point. He spoke to his new captives with a little sneer.
"Do not think I will hesitate to use the spirit dagger against any of you should you make a nuisance of yourself. How many centuries of hard-earned vital energy would you waste just to give me your rage? Here is as good a place as any to work on your so-called 'self-improvement'. I believe patience and calm are virtues you are instructed to cultivate in yourselves. Good practice to you, then, my friends."
Many of the new occupants hissed or growled hatefully at the sight of the spirit dagger. It would cause great damage to any one of them if they were stabbed with it. The tiniest cut could be a mortal wound. The green snake woman flicked out her long, forked tongue, glaring at the Collector with hatred burning in her dark eyes.
As the guards began making their rounds to the cages to dole out food and water, the snake woman turned towards Angharad and Ginnar, who were still huddled together in the corner, watching her warily.
"What do you stare at, infants?" she growled at them in Westron. (She had lived near a town on a busy trade route for long years – she had had plenty of opportunities to hear this language and to use it to bring mischief to foreigners.)
Angharad cleared her throat nervously. She would prefer not to have this woman's wrath aimed at them for however long they were caged inches from each other.
"We do not know your people and were surprised to see you change," she explained. "You seem very strong to us."
"Mighty indeed, lady serpent," Ginnar added, thinking some flattery may save them trouble later.
"And what peoples are you from, that you do not know a demon when you see one?" the woman said with contempt. She was not feeling very patient for obnoxious children after being captured.
The children were nervous. 'Demon' was not an encouraging word.
"Are your people good or evil?" Ginnar demanded. Angharad elbowed him in the ribs. Only a dwarf would ask such a ridiculous and forthright question.
The green snake let out a harsh laugh. "They call us demons and tell us we are evil and must be banished. But look around you, foolish children. They capture and enslave many peoples for their own amusement and profit. My people have only ever acted according to our nature. Many of us seek to generate merit for many thousands of years that we may be purified for later lives. So, who is truly evil?"
Angharad and Ginnar could not argue with that. The look of rage that burned in her eyes mirrored the flames in their own hearts.
"We are dwarfs," Ginnar answered her earlier question, point to himself and the dark-haired dwarf to their left. (The dwarf on the right had been carted off weeks ago without any explanation.) "And she is an elf – they live long, as it seems you do."
Ginnar stood and bowed to the snake woman. "Ginnar of the Glittering Caves, at your service." It couldn't hurt. You don't want a gigantic shape-shifting serpent demon angry at you.
Angharad followed suit and gave a polite elven gesture. "I am Angharad Lasgaleniel. I am sorry for your troubles," she said graciously.
The green snake snorted. A cynical smile passed over her face. "What good do you think fine manners will do you now? I do not know your people either, but it does not matter. Now we are all reduced to slaves of men."
But the children's graciousness and young innocence did worm its way into her heart, thawing a little of its ice. "I am Xiaoqing, the green snake," she said.
The Collector had walked up to the snake's cage as she was introducing herself. "Very good, demon, I see you are getting to know the children. You will be traveling to the same destination together; it is good you are becoming friends. I have your first task for you then, serpent. The children must learn the Eastron [1] language – you teach them. I will be checking on your progress. If you should fail me, I shall be unhappy," he threatened Xiaoqing.
He ran the tip of the spirit knife down one of the bars of her cage. She did not want to risk an injury from that weapon. She had already suffered one not so long ago and had lost centuries of carefully generated Qi. Another injury could kill her without enough merit to ensure a good rebirth.
As the Collector walked away, Xiaoqing leaned against her bars, looking closely at the younglings. They could not read her eyes. Was she friend or foe?
"So, students," she said with a sweetness that seemed a bit dangerous. "Where shall we begin?"
(~***~)
The first thing Xiaoqing did was inform Angharad that her name was all wrong for Eastron. She asked Angharad the meaning of her name, and for her parents' names and their meanings.
"You are in some luck, child of the ancients," Xiaoqing told her. (She had been suitably impressed when Angharad had explained her family tree. Her great-grandmother was older than the moon itself and still lived. But had they earned such long lives with great merit, or was it a subtle curse?)
"I think there is an elegant solution for you. There is one name that is like your own, and I think it goes well with your parents' names. In the Eastern lands you should be called 'Anhe' – a 'peaceful water lily' with its green leaf beneath it and its petals as white as bright snow."
Angharad was touched by this thoughtful gift. The serpent woman confused the young elf to no end. Sometimes she would do things like this, and at others she emanated contempt or apathy for her undesired pupils. She seemed to delight in tricking them into answering questions incorrectly as she began to teach them words and phrases in the musical language of the East. But her tricks were not like those that Angharad had seen her mother or her uncle Elrohir play on each other: silly and playful. Xiaoqing's tricks could be a little mean, although they were never outrightly cruel.
The young elf and dwarf agreed that they did not know where they stood with their reluctant teacher. They had thought maybe they could invite her into their alliance to seek freedom at their shared destination, but they both agreed they were too uneasy with her to do so.
With an ambivalent snake demon within arm's reach of a third of their enclosure, the children had begun sleeping (or resting in Angharad's case) close beside each other, pressed against the bars on the other side. To Angharad's surprise, she soon came to understand what her mother had said about the comfort of physical closeness. Both children ended up being a little glad for the excuse, for they could offer each other a little warmth during their trials. The dark-haired dwarf declined to make fun of them. He was depressed and withdrawn after his comrade's loss and had little energy to spend mocking children, who he in fact envied a little for their comfort.
The days had grown hotter and hotter as the ship journeyed on. Finally, a day came when the Collector came into the hold and gave the elf and the dwarf a nasty smile. Another magic man followed him, carrying yellow and red silk rope for the snake.
"It's time to go to your new home, children," he said. "Be good for your master. If you please him very well then you may be released from your indenture. But if you don't please him, I can't speak for your wellbeing. He is a powerful man and doesn't have tolerance for unnecessary trouble. Now go to sleep."
The Collector activated both of their restraint enchantments and the pair went limp as they sunk into foggy half-dreams.
(~***~)
When the children awoke, they were lying beside each other on a stiff mattress. The walls around them were each intricately carved so light spilled through in many places and made designs on the red tiled floor. The ceiling above was painted in yellow and gold. Geometric designs inside a circle were surrounded by a motif of birds and branches. Ginnar looked closely as his mind surfaced from his enchantment and realized the paint was real gold – impressive and expensive.
As soon as they were wakeful, they noticed to their great joy that no iron bars could be seen anywhere. Angharad breathed in the fresh, green smelling air with tears of relief in her eyes. Months inside a stinking ship, unable to see the sky or trees or plants, had made the young elf feel like she was dying by degrees.
The chains remained on their wrists and ankles, but they were free to move around the room, which held the bed on which they lay, as well as a large red and black lacquer cabinet. A pair of carved chairs in red wood had been placed by a matching table. Ginnar caught sight of a bowl of carved jade – so fine that light shone through it – and bolted over to inspect the fantastic object.
Angharad went to the wooden doors at the far end of the room and tentatively pushed at one of them, expecting it to be locked. Instead, the door swung open freely and silently. She stepped outside into a scene of such wonder that it took her breath away. They were surrounded by enormous ginkgo trees, weeping their delicate leaves onto the ground in thick piles as brilliantly yellow as any mallorn she had ever seen in Valinor. Angharad put her hand on the trunk of one of the trees with reverence, listening to its tranquil song. She realized that it was nearly as old as her father was. The young elf stood as still as the ancient being before her, feeling tears prick at her eyes, until she heard Ginnar calling for her in excitement. Reluctantly, she stepped away from the tree, giving it a little bow of respect, and returned to her companion.
Ginnar had found another gift for them behind their small but lavish shelter: a large tub of water. The water was still steaming with heat. Soaps, combs, soft towels, and fine new clothes that looked like they should fit the elf and the dwarf had been laid out neatly beside the tub.
Ginnar was already stripping – dwarfs were not terribly inhibited about getting naked to bathe. Angharad was taken aback at first but then she followed suit, so euphoric at the idea of being clean after months in captivity that she did not care if she was going to have to share the tub with a dwarf child. The two younglings climbed into the tub in joy, shrieking and soon splashing each other and blowing soap bubbles.
When the water had gone cold, they climbed out again and dressed in the fresh clothing laid out for them. Angharad had been given a set of shirt and trousers in yellow silk embroidered with green vines and flowers, with matching yellow slippers. Ginnar's outfit was similar, but it was red and decorated with geometric designs he thought were nicely done. Their clean, wet hair combed but unbraided, the children raced down the stone path that led away from the hut, eager to see what other wonders their mysterious new location might hold.
At the end of a path lined with the old gingkoes that Angharad was so enamored with, a round stone bridge crossed a river that flowed into a tranquil lake dotted with white lotus flowers. As far as the eye could see, the youngsters could see incredible gardens, complete with many novel plants that Angharad dearly wished to visit and carved stone statues and structures that appealed to Ginnar.
Beside the bridge, Xiaoqing lay on the grass, sunning herself. She had changed into her green snake form from the waist down, a close-fitting silk shirt covering her top half. The red silk collar still marked her white neck.
"Enjoying yourselves, children?" she said, her voice dripping with venom and sugar.
"Where are we?" Angharad asked. She had been too stunned by the immensity of the change in their surroundings to think about anything else, but she was starting to feel reason creep back into her mind.
"We are in the Imperial menagerie, dear students," Xiaoqing said. Neither Angharad nor Ginnar knew what the word "menagerie" meant, but the way the demon's voice managed to sound both sickly sweet and full of fury gave them fair warning that whatever it was, it was not good.
(~***~)
Footnotes:
[1] I kind of hate this name, but I'm not going to try picking out non-English words and names without assistance any more than I can help it. I know I would butcher it. Tolkien called the common tongue of West Middle Earth Westron, so I'm going with Eastron for the far-Eastern lands beyond the edges of Tolkien's map.
THIS IS NOT INTENDED AS A POLITICAL STATEMENT. The sole reason that Chinese lore was my choice for this story is that I've been on a Wuxia film and Shaolin Kung Fu film kick. I've had Bollywood and K-drama phases in the past that could have easily brought me in a different direction. This choice was purely an accident of timing.
Final Note: Dear readers, I hope this goes without saying but please do not make any of the scenes with Angharad & Ginnar sexual. Gross. They are supposed to be (approximately) the functional equivalent of human 9 year olds. They are in a horrible, scary situation. They're going give each other some hugs and pats on the back and do other things in the innocent spirit of children. Be chill. Do not ship.
Chapter influences include the Legend of the White Snake, with The Sorcerer and the White Snake, (film, 2011) as a critical reference.
