The Great Divide by ALark

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The Hearts of Men

name meanings!

hensilien:Daughter of Silver eyes (this is her father-name and only given name)

Aiwê:Little bird (mothername) (chosen name:Pelóthoni: fearless *exclusivly a avarin word)

Erjâr: Alone (because when she found him he was a lone wolf)

 

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The wide tent was filled with the hearty laughter of men; the warmth of the large fire in the middle of the gathering made it feel as if the air itself was ablaze. Talk of war and conquering spilled from the mouths of mead sot warriors and generals of the Wainrider army. The heat of the room made the sweat bead on tanned and browned foreheads of the war hungry easterlings. Their leader Margöz sat cross-legged on a dais with pillows of crimson trimmed with gold embroidery; there sat a scantily clothed woman on either side of him, one whispered in his ear as the other refilled his cup. A smirk played on his lips as he whispered back to the woman, whatever he said made her faint embarrassment, which only fed into the passion made plain in his eyes. He drained his cup then wiped the hair that stuck to his face with sweat, rising he addressed the throng.

 

“Brothers!”,his voice carried over the din, his dark eyes scanning the crowd as he waited for silence.

 

When all quieted he continued, “Our time has come brothers. For us to show our steel to the west, to Gondor. Tomorrow we march south to Mordor to join Sauron’s army.And this is all thanks to Sauron’s emissary,Dargum !”,men shouted and roared their approval. A man, or what looked to be a man, with pale hairless skin and sunken black eyes stepped forward and bowed, his thin lips pursed in a smile. his garments and robes were dark and in disrepair, the only armor he wore was a breast plate emblazoned with the Eye of Sauron.

 

Again over the din Margöz spoke, “ For too long Gondor and the Free Peoples of the west have grown fat on what is rightfully ours!”,another roar from the crowd, “and we have bided our time long enough!”

 

“We will crush Gondor into the dust from whence it came, its streets will run red with their blood!”,interjected a swarthy man who’s warrior’s braid reached passed his shoulder blades.

 

“None will be able to stand against us!”,shouted another.the noise rose as the easterlings made toasts of coming victory and swore oaths against the cities of the Free Peoples.

 

“Anyone who wages war against the westerners is a fool!”,bellowed one from the very back of the tent,one who had escaped the notice of all in the tent until this very moment.The figure stood in the shadow farthest away from the blazing fire pit shrouded in a ragged wool spun cloak that hid its face from view. The silence was deafening all eyes were pinned angrily at the corner where the figure stood unmoving,many had drawn their swords.

 

“Care to repeat those words, horse shit?”,garbled a brute.

 

The figure stepped out of the shadow and through the crowd to the center of the tent next to the fire.Dargum looked on the stranger his nose scrunched in disgust, knowing full well from the sent of the strange what it was.

 

“I said, anyone who wages war against the westerners is a fool!”,upheaval broke through the crowd, “and anyone who throws their lot in with Sauron is a doomed fool!”, this last comment broke the restraint of the crowd and several men lunged at the stranger. They each failed in their attempt to apprehend the hooded stranger. With lissome movements and inhuman swiftness the stranger fended off each attacker as if the burly men were but children.

 

“STOP”,Margöz shouted, “Who are you, that you are so bold as to provoke Wainriders?”.Stepping down from the dais Margöz came to stand in front of the stranger.

 

The stranger removed their hood, and before Margöz stood a female elf. Her raven hair was of unkept uncombed waves and curls, skin the color of moonmilk, ever wary silver eyes that flashed and gleamed as would a Gondolin blade in the life of the fire, her height easily met 6 feet.The crowd hissed and spat on the ground in contempt. Dargum’s beady eyes were pinned to her as snake’s eyes are pinned on an unsuspecting rabbit. But what had passed the notice of the wainriders had not passed the notice of their leader,that this was no insignificant elf,but the chieftess of the Avari elves of the Sentinel Grove in Taur Rómen, Hensilien. A smirk once again played across Margöz’s features and he took a step back bowing grandly.

 

“Well if it isn’t the Elven-queen of the Sentinel Grove in the flesh!You are a little ways from your woodland home lady, what brings you to this tent of warriors?”

 

Hensilien’s ghostly silver eyes were trained on the wainrider leader, “I came to try to make you see the folly in allying with Sauron,”she turned her gaze to Dargum then to the men about her “but I see you all are too foolhardy to listen to reason.”

 

“Go fuck a tree, elf bitch!”, yelled someone from the throng, laughter and cursing rang up from the men.

 

“That is no way to treat a lady!” Margöz chided in a mock manner, “Let us speak privately”, he whispered to his elven guest, gesturing to an opening behind the dais.

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The adjacent tent was dimly lit by oil lamps, much more to Hensilien’s liking than the garishly lit tent of the ill-mannered ill-tempered brutes. Her eyes were hypersensitive to light from ages of living in dark places long before she became the leader of her people.

 

“Wine?”, Margöz offered.

 

“No, but I’ll take a pipe”, pipes are widely disliked by most elves, but it is a habit Hensilien picked up long ago that she rarely gets to indulge in. From her cloak she pulled a long pipe and allowed Margöz to pack it with tobacco. Eastern tobacco was more heady, laced with a taste of spices, its smoke like that of incense; altogether better than that of the tobacco brought from the west in Hensilien’s opinion. As she lit the contents of the pipe she puffed a few times and then drawing one long breath and exhaling the smoke through her nose she took some time to savor the experience.

 

“What really brings you here Hensilien?”, said Margöz reclining on some pillows smoking from his own carved pipe.

 

She took one more puff before replying, “To convince you you’re making a mistake. I would not have bothered if we did not have a kind of history. Feel at liberty to consider us even after this.”

 

“And what makes you think you can change my mind?”, he said with some amusement.

 

“I don’t think I can. It is more for the sake of my conscience, you see. You saved me from an undesirable fate once and its time for me to return the favor. Tell me why could you not be content with the prosperity you had come to, a prosperity an eastern man can scarce dream to achieve? Why are you throwing it all away for a war you cannot win?”

 

“That is where you are wrong Tîgkiz(arrow-maid). We will win this war. You do not believe, but you will see. Yes you will see”, he took a breath of his pipe. “You would be wise to join Sauron’s ranks. You will not be able to remain neutral for long. Either you are for Sauron or you are against him, and those who are against him will be destroyed. You need to think of your people—”

 

Hensilien looked at Margöz incredulously, he saw the barely restrained anger flare in her eyes. “I did not mean—”, he started in his attempt to backpedal from his last remark.

 

“No! Now it is my turn to speak manling. Do not dare to think you are in the position to tell me how to rule my people! Do you think me a new born babe, new to the ways of this world, new to war!?I have lived long manling, such a length that it would drive you mad to fathom that time compared to your short-lived existence. I was there when your forefathers fell under the deception of The Great Evil. And no I do not speak of Sauron, but the one who came before him, the one whose name is accursed amongst my people. And you, you seek to follow in their footsteps to your own destruction. You let that soulless golem ,sent from Sauron himself, feed you his venom and blind you to the truth!”

 

At that moment Dargum took the liberty of entering unannounced which only fueled her anger. “Soulless spawn of Udûn I should strike you down from where you stand”, she hissed in the black tongue.

 

“You would not succeed” ,he replied, his voice full of mirth at the surprise that an elf of Avari lineage would be so fluent in the black speech. Hensilien bit her thumb and spat at the ground in front of him.Switching back to the easterling language Dargum addressed Margöz, “ I think this one has worn out her welcome Lord Margöz, would you like me to see her out?”

 

“I will see myself out snake.” Turning to face Margöz, who had stood when Dargum came in, she shook her head pity showing in her eyes. She looked around the tent and found a basin of water, she dipped her hands in the cool water and showed her hands to Margöz. “I wash my hands of you Margöz. I hope Eru has mercy on your soul and lets you return to His presence when your soul leaves this world.” Wiping her hands on her cloak she made her way to the opening of the tent that lead to the larger one.

 

“Wait”, said Margöz, holding out a wooden box, “consider this a parting gift.”

 

She took the box and opening it she saw that it was filled with tobacco. She locked eyes with him and nodded then took her leave with Dargum following behind her. She ignored the curses and vile oaths as she left the Wainrider camp. The night was cool and cleansed her senses. A gentle breeze blew across the great plain and the clear starlit night sky left her longing for a home that had been destroyed ages ago. This meeting had left many things weighing on her mind, war was on the horizon, one that her people could not avoid being involved in. Some ways away from the camp she spotted her friends who had accompanied her there.

 

Aiwê roused herself from reverie when she heard the nearly silent foot fall of her friend. Erjâr too rose to meet her with tail wagging. Erjâr was a white and grey direwolf of abnormal size, a companion she had made while an elfling in the icy wilds of the north. He followed her south of his own will and she never regretted that he did.  Aiwê and Hensilien touched each other’s left cheek with a gentle hand in greeting.She and Hensilien shared a long friendship that Hensilien prized more than anything.They were  sisters to each other more than any two women that shared blood; kindred in every way. Only Hensilien called her by her Äidinimen (mother-name) of Aiwê. Her Valitänimen (chosen name)being Pelóthoni.Aiwê was small in stature, being only 5”5 tall. She was fairer than those of her clans-women; her eyes were still the common grey but her hair was a dull blonde instead of black or brown. She wore her hair in long but loose dreadlocks,her eyelashes and eyebrows were golden.

 

“How did it go?”,Aiwê ventured cautiously seeing the strain in Hensilien’s features.

 

Hensilien only shook her head in reply.