***** Author's Note *****
A belated Merry Christmas and Happy Holidays to you all! Please enjoy this new chapter!
67
Alaesia's vision went black before she really knew what was happening. One moment she was sitting by the fire, baffled at Zathra's proposal, the next she was swallowed up by darkness. The strangest part was that she didn't feel particularly startled by the sudden change in scenery, in fact, it was blissfully calm in a way she hadn't experienced in years; not since she was a child.
The black of sleep slowly grew long before her, not in a way that could be seen, but rather felt; it formed a tunnel, one with familiar twists and turns she knew by heart. Alaesia pressed forward, feeling the spritely energy of youth carrying her around the bend of the tunnel until soft candlelight illuminated the stone floor of the cave her family had once called home. Alaesia peered about the small chamber absorbing every detail she could.
On the far side, a small hearth had been fixed into a crevice that led up into the darkness of an unknown ceiling; within the makeshift fireplace, a small cauldron seemed to be boiling to the dance of the fire beneath it. Alaesia could almost taste the stew within and it made her mouth start to water. The old wooden table she had loved to play under was situated in the only place it would fit in the main center area of the chamber. A stalagmite made up for one of the legs that her father had never been able to find the right supplies to replace to match the other three. An old, musty, oak barrel sat beneath an overhang, collecting the damp that trickled in through the roof crevice whenever it rained. To one side of the craggy room, a large pile of furs on a platform of wood planks made up her parents' bed. It looked so warm and inviting, Alaesia couldn't help but crawl right in.
She burrowed between the layers of fur, feeling a mischievous giggle building within her. Every time she snuck into her parents' bed, she knew she was going to get in trouble. It wasn't the kind of trouble of stern fingers wagging or sharp tongues yelling though, but rather game-ish teasing of hide and seek, undoubtedly leading to a tickle-fit when her mother or father found her toes poking out of the furs. She had never been good at remembering to hide her toes.
"Alae! Come here ya wee stinker!" A hearty male voice chuckled, "You're not getting out of your chores, lil miss!" Her father hefted a small crate onto the table, and strung a line of rabbits his snares had caught onto a point of rock near the hearth. "You can help me with cleaning these creatures or help your mother fix up the mirrors. The curtains need mending too. Whichever suits you."
"But I'm cooold!" She retorted and wormed her way deeper under the cave of pelt blankets to the perfect spot to curl up. The layers of fur seemed to still be holding the warmth of the night; it felt like a hug, "an' I'm still sleepy!"
"We all have to do our part of the work to prepare, Alae." her mother's voice chided in a no-nonsense kind of attitude, peeling back layers of fur until she spotted ten pink toes poking out of the bedding. "Or else winter will get you before you know it!"
Alaesia squealed as her mother pressed a handful of snow against her bare feet. She kicked and screamed, pulling her feet deeper under the furs, finally poking her head out the top, "Stop stop! I give! You win!"
Her father snorted, "Doesn't sound as if you feel keen on gathering firewood with bare feet then, eh?"
Alaesia wrinkled her nose back at him, but couldn't keep her cheeks from pinching into a grin, so she stuck her tongue out at him, "Bare feet for a cave bear. You said bears sleep all winter! I wanna sleep like they do!"
"Not if you want anything to eat this winter, you won't!" her mother, holding up the remaining snow in her hand menacingly, "So what chore will it be, missy?"
Alaesia pouted for a second, before finally shoving the furs off herself, "Fiiirewood."
Getting out of the cave was at least less messy than gutting rabbits, and more interesting than adjusting the angles of small metal mirrors to bring sunlight into the depths of the dark cavern abode. If she was lucky, she figured to herself, she might just be able to sneak away to steal some of that silly gate soldier's food. He was always leaving bits behind and unattended while patrolling the Black Gate's interior around Udun. She was sure if her father had been his commanding officer, he would have been properly reprimanded for such carelessness.
"Don't leave food out, you'll attract vermin. Rats and the like!" Alaesia puffed out her chest, putting on a greatly exaggerated mimicry of her father as she crossed the frosty threshold of their hidden home to look for spare bits to scavenge.
One good thing about the big, dumb orcs trying to besiege the Black Gate was that their attempts to defeat the Gondorian soldiers often meant their poorly constructed war machines, carts, or whatnot, often were left strewn in wreckage around the area. Wood, cloth, leather, oil, metal, there wasn't really a terrible shortage of supplies to be found, so long as one was careful when going out to gather; however, one would never want to run into a second wave of orcs attacking the gate while the picking through the debris left behind by the first wave once they had been driven off. That was for that reason Alaesia hadn't been allowed out on her own for the better part of her childhood, only finally being allowed to go alone when times were lean enough to warrant three pairs of working hands instead of two. Even still, her parents always told her to stay within earshot of their cave.
She toed at a pebble with her heavy boot of leather and fur, leaning around an outcropping to survey the area as she had been taught. The thin layer of snow was unbroken for the most part, except for a muddy trail marked like a line across on the other side of the valley. She froze, scanning back and forth to locate who or what might have left the dark mark across the otherwise white and gray field. As soon as her eyes caught a glimpse of a familiar banner, black with a delicate tree of white, she just knew she didn't have to worry. If the soldiers were on patrol, orcs would never dare show their hideous faces! Such was the naivety of a child.
Alaesia scampered down the rocky hills, ducking and weaving, keeping her head low. She, like her mother, always kept on rough spun gray hoods or scarves; it helped keep their shared fiery hair hidden from prying eyes, whether orc or human. In a pinch when such luxuries as cloth grew threadbare, charcoal was the only substitute to darken and dull the color. To Alaesia it seemed, over time, such treatments had permanently marred her mother's hair, even turning some strands permanently white like wood ash over the years. On a day like today, with the first snowfall of winter, Alaesia was glad she had a hood to keep her ears warm.
Boulders made for decent enough cover for a young girl of her size and she had a good eye for dodging muddy pools. Alaesia took her time, noting various piles of scrap she could return to, while making her way across the valley, careful to remain unseen as best she could. If her careless soldier was a part of the patrol today, he surely would have dropped a bundle or something along their route, like he always did. He was very clumsy that way, Alaesia assumed. It was a miracle he didn't attract more orcs and Mordor-ish pests!
It appeared, from her vantage, that the patrol of soldiers had made it to a jut of solid stone that was often used to survey deeper into the interior of Mordor, usually just one or two scouts stationed there with a day or two's rations. What a full patrol might be doing there now, Alaesia could only guess. It didn't really concern her either, for when she reached their trail, she began following back along it, looking for her suspected prize. It didn't take long for her to find it.
Tucked under an old gnarled tree root, there sat a scrap of cloth wrapped up around something. She snatched it up immediately, feeling a fading warmth through the fibers. A fresh bread roll, probably baked right before the soldiers scaled down the gate to go on patrol, revealed itself as she unwrapped it. She grinned, stuffing it into her mouth while climbing to a better seat that wasn't dusted with snow. It was so sweet, made with something the soldier had told her was called honey, that it made her toes curl happily. Her legs swung back and forth as she ate, catching the occasional snowflake that drifted down from the cliffs around the valley. Not a single crumb was left by the time she finished.
Alaesia balled up the cloth and tucked it into the fringe of her boot; her father had mentioned the heavy curtains they used for insulation needed mending, and the scrap of cloth would make a decent enough patch. She was about to jump down from her seat and start heading back, when the sound of voices reached her, from up the patrol's trail.
She froze, in a panic, knowing she would be in huge trouble if her father found out she was running about with a patrol in the area. Even if his tales of the Gondorian soldiers told of their heroism and kindness, he always warned her to keep her distance; that warriors of any sort should be given careful consideration and a respectfully wide berth, especially when they were in enemy territory. One wrong move, getting too close, could very easily result in injury or worse.
The voices were growing louder. Alaesia looked down at the trail she had climbed up from, fearing there wasn't time to get down and find better cover, so she turned and looked up. The great mountains and cliffs rose above like stony sentinels, waiting to see what the girl might do. So, she began to climb.
Hand over hand, she tried just to get above the eye line, where perhaps, any passing soldiers might not spot her; once they had passed, she figured she could just sneak down and back home. But, of course, the rockface was slick from the snow. Alaesia's grip failed, just as three soldiers rounded a corner, and they saw a small, gray-clad figure fall into the mud with a wet smack.
"Halt!" One of them barked, and signaled to the other two, "Looks like we've got a little goblin sneaking about! Seize it!" They sprung forward at his command, pulling Alaesia upright by the scruff of her muck-splattered tunic, and presenting her to him.
Alaesia grumbled in protest, spitting mud and trying to catch her breath, "I'm not a g-"
"Not what? A spy?" The leader of the trio snapped, drawing his blade and tickling it under the girl's throat. Her eyes sharpened nervously and she glanced back and forth at all three. This never happened; she had never been held at sword point by Gondorians before! Why were they acting like this? It was all wrong... The soldier continued, commanding her attention with a low threatening tone, "Don't even try denying it, foul little beast. Tell me what secrets you've dug up, weaknesses your ilk will exploit on their next attack, and I might make this painless for you."
"Skai lat!" Alaesia heard herself hiss, but she immediately pulled back, "No... Wait! I didn't mean...!" Her eyes fixed upon the flat of his blade, freshly polished to perfection, and found her reflection looking back at her, but not her own face. Her skin was dull, dusty gray, only a hint of pink, and the locks of hair that poked from her hood were blackened like soot; but worse of all, her face was split, from her lips to the crest of her forehead, in a terrible gaping cleft, on either side of which were two awful, familiar, yellow eyes.
"Alae..." a faint voice prodded at the back of her mind, but was drowned out by the stern tones of the interrogating soldier.
"Stubborn monster," he tsked, "If you won't speak, then your head will serve as a warning to the rest of you vermin."
"No! Please! I'm not a goblin!" Alaesia tried to pull a hand free. She had to prove it, somehow! Why couldn't this soldier see she was human, like him?
"Quit begging," the soldier commanded coldly.
"Alaesia..." the voice grew louder, sounding familiar in a way she couldn't quite figure out. Was it her father? She wondered. But she couldn't search for its source, as the soldier was standing in the way of looking back towards her home while lifting his sword over the back of her neck.
The sword started to swing down.
"Alaesia! Wake up, lass!"
***** Translations *****
Skai lat! - Damn you! (Curse you!)
***** Author's Note *****
I'm still taking a rolling break, so chapters are still going to be spaced further apart (as far as posting here), but rough drafts are uploaded to my discord as soon as they are finished.
Now Available! Read up to Chapter 69 on my discord!