The Silver Mare by anthropologyarda

Chapter 1

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In the old days, after the Eothéod escaped Rhovanion’s fall, Marhwini Lord of the Eothéod often rode in the wilds of Anduin, seeking peace to grieve the death of his father. Now Marhwini owned a stallion that surpassed the beauty of all other horses of Men. The horse had a shining coat like gold and was stronger than any of his kin. His father Marhari gifted the stallion to his son when the boy grew to manhood; it was this stallion Marhwini rode in the wilds.

Now one day as he rode, the summer afternoon grew hot, and Marhwini dismounted to water his stallion at the river. But while he washed his face in the clear stream, his stallion raised his head and neighed as if hearing another of his kind, and then loosed his reins and bolted away. Marhwini tried to follow, but so swiftly the stallion ran that he soon lost him.

Marhwini returned alone to the dwellings of the Eothéod, and the people whispered among themselves that it was an ill sign and boded misfortune for their Lord.

But the next morning, a man with a hood cast over his face came to the gate, leading the lost stallion behind the silver mare he rode.

All who saw him were amazed, for his mare equaled in every way the Lord’s stallion, who was greater than any horse ever yet foaled among the Eothéod.

The hooded man cried out, “I have come to return this horse that was lost. Call his master to come claim him.”

The guardsmen at the gate told the rider that the horse belonged to their Lord, and they would return him. But the hooded man refused to hand the stallion over to any man who was not the horse’s master.

So Marhwini came to the gate, and the rider knew at once that this was the golden stallion’s master, for the horse gave a glad call at the sight of him. Then he willingly returned the horse, and made to ride away.

But Marhwini stopped him, saying, “You have returned my greatest treasure to me, for I value him above all the gold in my hall. Will you not accept some reward?”

But the hooded man refused, until Marhwini insisted so strongly that the rider finally yielded - if he could set his own price.

The Lord agreed, and the hooded rider said, “My mare runs like the north wind, and no horse can keep pace with her, so I must always ride alone. But your stallion I judge her equal. My price is this: that you ride with me once every three days, for a year and a day. But you may never remove my cowl, nor ask me to remove it.”

And Marhwini agreed, marveling that the rider chose such a thing when he could have asked instead for wealth or power.

So three days after, Marhwini and the golden stallion rode out to meet the silver mare and her hooded rider on the banks of the river. They found each other fair company, and spoke longer and longer at each meeting, finding much they admired in one another. And as summer turned to fall, they began to ride with each other every two days, then as often as either could manage as their friendship grew.

The hooded rider never gave Marhwini a name, though he spoke of living with his father and their people in the eaves of the eastern woods; Marhwini called him Silver instead after the mare. And he never removed the heavy hooded coat and scarf he wore, or any piece of the clothing that covered him head to toe. They muffled his voice and veiled all of his body but his blue eyes, pale and clear as a mountain pool.

They often rode by the river, or raced their horses in the green fields. Sometimes they hunted waterfowl or pheasant; Silver missed nothing in his bow-sights, and the companions ate well when they dined together. At night they lit a fire and talked softly, and when it went out they watched the stars before they rode home.

And fall turned to winter, and they could meet less often, and each parting became a sharper thing. And winter turned to spring, and Silver began to speak more of his life with his people, of his loneliness, and of his lost mother and his stern elder brother who would succeed their father as chieftain. Marhwini spoke of his own loss, and sought advice in the just ruling of the Eothéod. Silver proved a wise counselor and as spring turned to summer and the end of Silver’s prize drew new, they spoke more freely and honestly than ever.

Marhwini’s heart inclined ever closer to that of his friend and he yearned not to be parted from him, even after their bargain was fulfilled. But when he tried to speak of it, Silver grew quiet and begged delay, and Marhwini yielded.

That night Silver followed Marhwini to the dwellings of the Eothéod, and when he invited his friend to stay the night, this time Silver did not refuse. They returned often in the days that followed, and Silver became known and favored by many in the Eothéod, for his good temper and skill with horses, as well as the esteem their Lord held for him. Marwhini’s mother Wina especially became fond of him, and welcomed Silver whenever he visited the Lord’s hall.

As summer ripened, their last meeting approached. Melancholy lay heavily on both of them when they met for the last time. Marhwini rode with Silver through the day as he always did; they revisited their favorite places and revealed their hearts more deeply with one another then they ever had before. But as the sun began to set, Silver caught Marhwini by the wrist and asked if he would follow him.

He led Marhwini toward the forest, and into sight of distant lights and the sounds of men and beasts.

“This is my home,” Silver told him. Then he took Marhwini by a hidden path to a house on the edge of the village and welcomed him with food and drink. None disturbed them, and they ate their meal, each taking pleasure in the other’s company.

When the meal was finished, Silver looked gravely into Marhwini’s eyes and said, “Our agreement is fulfilled. Yet I desire still your company and your friendship, whatever comes after.”

The Lord of the Eothéod assented to this with great pleasure, for his desired this also. Then it seemed to him that Silver grew hesitant, and he urged his friend to speak whatever weighed on him.

Then Silver said, “I wish to show you my face - if it is also your will.”

And Marhwini sat for a while in thought. It was the thought of the Eothéod that Silver had suffered some terrible injury and been hideously scarred, and so hid his face from men. But Marhwini did not fear the face of a friend, and he valued the trust Silver had offered him, so he replied, “If our two wills align, let it be done.”

And Silver rose and entered another room to remove his hood and scarf, which he had loosened to eat. Then he called out for Marhwini to enter.

So the Lord of the Eothéod did, and a great shock befell him.

Before him stood not Silver the man, with a twisted, ruined face, but a woman unlike any he had seen. Every hair was pure white, like moonlight on snow, and her skin nearly as pale. She was taller and broader in the shoulder than most of her sex, and small-breasted, but her face was well-shaped and pleasing.

Her voice was deep and rich as she said, “You call me Silver, and it pleased me. But the name my mother gave me is Rhian.”

Marhwini stood astounded still, and Rhian smiled and continued as if the Lord had amused her, “My skin burns easily, and bright lights hurt my eyes. I am too pale, it seems, and I wear those clothes to protect myself in daylight. Night is friendlier and I do not need them in the dark.”

Then she faced him, and became earnest. “You have let me know you, and now you know all of me. Do as you will with that knowledge. The hour grows late, and my brother will return soon. You must go.”

She ushered Marhwini toward the door, and he roused himself enough to ask, “And your husband?” Rhian looked nearly his own age, and among the Eothéod most women married before then.

Rhian paused. “I have no husband. My kinsmen treat me kindly though they find me strange. But no man dares risk having his children inherit my blood, for fear they would be cast in my image. Marhwini of the Eothéod, I know my own heart. Go home and search yours.”

He rode home on the golden stallion, caught in a daze, and if the horse had not known the way neither of them would have returned. Marwhini did not sleep that night, but paced and planned until the household began to stir. Then he went to see his mother.

That afternoon, the Lord of the Eothéod rode out on his stallion, and returned alone.

The next morning, the shining stallion returned, and the glorious silver mare followed him.

On the third day, Marhwini rode out with his councilors and captains to the threshold of her village, leading the silver mare loaded with gifts behind him, and asked in marriage the hand of Rhian, sister of Rhys, and alliance between the Eothéod and her people.

Her father and brother were not eager to accept a stranger, but at the urging of Rhian they relented and blessed the union. And amid great rejoicing, Marhwini led his new bride home, draped in costly veils and the heirlooms of her kin, where all had been prepared ahead of time. The two were married in the sight of the Great Rider and their peoples, and Wina mother of Marhwini welcomed her new daughter with joy.

There was great feasting among the Eothéod and the people of Rhian for many days, but Marhwini and Rhian slipped out to the stables at dusk, and rode out together on the golden stallion and the silver mare so Rhian could feel the wind on her face. And they sealed their covenant together on a bed of thick grass with the stars above them.

The next summer, the silver mare bore a foal with a shining coat of gold.

There was great love between them all their days, and Rhian and Marhwini never abandoned each other, not when Rhian bore no children after two years of marriage and the people began to speak of their Lord putting her aside, nor when Marhwini was reported dead in battle and his advisors urged Rhian to marry again.

For in the third year of their marriage Rhian bore a child, and eleven more after, and Marhwini returned against hope to his family, whom he never left again. And they lived to see their children grow and their son become Lord, and died side by side in the same bed, an old man and an old woman.

And thus ends the tale of the Veiled Lady and the First Lord of the Eothéod. It is said he married a faery-bride, a white mare who fell in love with the Lord and cast her skin aside to marry him. But this is not so.