Niara's Tales: Bow of the Righteous

Notes: This chapter is the beginning. As a result, though it is technically a LotRO story, this entry takes place in lands as yet uncharted by the MMO. Even so, it details the events surrounding Niara, a character within the LotRO universe, so sue me if that's not good enough. Reviews, comments, criticisms, anythign at all, all will be appreciated. Feel free to tear me apart in the name of improving my work. I enjoy it. Without further ado then, here is the beginning of Niara's Story.

-Niara

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Epic Book: Introduction

 

Leaning low in the saddle, Niara whispered hurried urgings for her horse to run onward and faster.  One of the short, crude orc arrows whipped past her a few feet off to the left, while a second fell short a short way to her right.  She thanked whatever small mercy it was orcish bows were short of range and inaccurate at best.  The shouts behind her cried for blood, but the small band was on foot, and wouldn’t catch her so long as she kept riding.

They were too close though.  Far too close for her liking.  Close enough that on bad days, the horses could smell orc stench on the wind, even at home.  It made them skittish, and between calming the poor creatures, and the training and preparations she and the other stable hands had been going through, there was precious little time left for actually training them.  Prepare they must, though, that much got clearer by the day.  Other farmsteads had been raided already, and a band would strike the Foregate farm eventually.  Sooner rather than later if the small bands were getting this close.

Niara turned her horse as her pursuers fell behind, heading in a random direction away from her home.  They would follow her trail for a while at least, and she daren’t lead them back.  It was only a small band, certainly, and nothing the farm couldn’t handle by now, but if any turned tail and escaped, it might bring a proper raiding party down on them.

As the plains rushed by beneath her, Niara glanced up to get a bearing of the time.  Still about three or four hours of sunlight left, enough time to tend what horses remained on the farm at the moment, and drill for a while with the other stable hands.  Hopefully. 

After a few more minutes she turned her horse homeward.  If she was really honest with herself, she liked taking the daily scouting runs whenever she could.  Her father would disapprove, she was certain, but then, he’d been away to Gondor for the past two months, to trade horses there, and didn’t know about Saruman’s capitulation to the Enemy, or the subsequent raiding that had been going on.  A part of her was slightly worried that he’d be coming back unprepared, but the only dangerous part would be the trip from Edoras home again, and he’d pick up what he needed to know there. 

She shifted slightly in the saddle, resettling the shield on her back, over the quiver that sat there as well.  Besides, it was always a big venture, these yearly trading trips, and between Edoras and Minas Tirith, they travelled with an established caravan.  It also took the majority of horse stock from the farm, leaving her precious little to actually do.  A full half of the horses that set out on the trips would be coming back; only half would be traded, the yearlings and other strong, fresh young horses, the other half would be along for the ride, to carry back the goods and currency bartered for after the dealings were all done.  All that was left on the farm itself were their stock breeding horses, and any new foals, their own personal horses, and a few trusted old friends, too old now for anything but company.

The farm came into sight and Niara sat up in the saddle, waving one hand over her head in case anyone was watching for her.  Her eyes could pick out a figure standing watch on the roof of the homestead, but she couldn’t identify him yet.  She felt bad about it, but it was actually quite exciting.  Since the reports of raiding and occasional bands of orcs had started, she’d started preparing the farm of fending off a raid if one came.  There was much more defensive construction and barricading set up around the perimeter now, and she and the stable hands had been training and drilling daily, pooling what each of them knew of combat, drawing what they could from a few of her father’s old books, and sparring against each other.  There was an air of waiting, and impending that she found slightly intoxicating, even if the fact made her feel somewhat guilty.

Before this had started, she had always had very little to do while the trading trips were made.  There were generally no horses that needed training, and tending them certainly didn’t take all day when there were so few left.  Her father always left her with instructions to work on this or that, for discipline’s sake, when he was in the mind that she ought to become a shield-maiden.  The other half of the time, usually when he got back from the White City, he would try to groom her to be more lady-like, so that she might find a powerful suitor from the city.  That he couldn’t make up his mind was annoying, but in the end it was overshadowed by the fact that she found both prospects distasteful; the real issue was that he wanted her to go out, find a nice, suitably stationed and malleable young man, and bring him back to her father, so he could pass the farm on to someone he trusted and could teach.

As she rode through the front gate of the farm, the boy on the roof tipped a pair of fingers to her in greeting, and started to scramble down  A few of the other hands wandered towards her as well, and she waited for them all to get within earshot.

“Not much change out there today, in any direction.  They’re out there, in small bands, here and there, and there’re more of them than there were a few weeks ago.  Nothing large enough to attack us yet, but it will happen, I’m more sure of it now than ever.  Anything happen while I was out?”  She shrugged off her shield as she reported, letting it clank to the ground, and pulled her hair out of the back of her tunic with a sigh.  James, the boy who had been on watch shook his head.

“Nope, nothing from the orcs or anything like that.  All pretty quite.  Anis finally foaled though, strong healthy girl.  They’re both recovering and seem to be doing well.  Your father’ll be pleased to hear that, I bet.  Star is almost past it, and we’ll need another breeding mare in a couple of years to replace her.”  He scratched at his cheek as he spoke.  He’d probably need to start shaving soon, more than likely.  Niara nodded, and was about to speak when a pair of bright blue eyes caught her gaze.  Danas seemed to have a knack for getting her attention whenever he wanted without saying or doing anything.  She still wasn’t quite sure how he managed it.

“Miss Niara?  Since you’re back, I thought we might go through the drills again, and pair off for some sparring.  It’s easier with even numbers, after all.  Your father ought to be back within the week, and he’ll be surprised to see the farm done over like it has been, so we all want to show him we’re ready to defend this place when the time comes.”  He was grinning as he bent to scoop up her discarded shield, and take the sword she had unbelted from her waist from her. 

“Right, yes.  Just give me a couple of minutes; I’ll be back in a second.”  He nodded as she made for the farmhouse, and James took her horse.  It occurred to her as she stepped inside that Danas had been suggesting the drilling, even as he took her weapons from her.  They’d gone through these motions often enough now that he had already known she’d want a few minutes first.  She slipped off her quiver and tossed it onto her bed, before taking care of business and getting a drink. 

Standing with one hand on her hip and the other holding the small earthen-ware cup she was drinking from, Naira looked at herself in a cloudy mirror that resided in the common room of the homestead.  Dark green eyes watched back, tracing over the small line just under her left eye.  A scar, acquired when she had traded arrows with what had probably been a lone orc scout, a few weeks ago.  His arrow had come within a finger length of taking her eye out, or potentially killing her altogether, and the injury hadn’t faded away yet.  She might bear the mark of it for years and years, or even the rest of her life.  Fortunately, the orc had only had time for a single shot before her own arrow adorned his neck, and she’d been left on an excited high for the rest of the day, but her father was going to be very upset when he found out.

She sighed, brushing hands over her face and heading towards the door again.  The way her hair would frame her face could hide it well enough though, and the line was already easy to miss, even if it wasn’t entirely un-noticeable.  She reminded herself that vanity was a luxury of the well protected and sheltered these days, and that she was neither.  More than that, she found herself remembering the rush and excitement of the encounter more than the injury; it had been a thrill that overwhelmed her, not the fear or worry she had first expected.

Back outside, Danas had formed the men up, eleven of them in total, though some, like James, ought still to be called boys.  Niara dashed across the yard to quickly check on her horse, then returned to reclaim her gear from Danas and join the line-up.  They started with combat drills, along with stance and form practice, and Niara found herself wondering what her father would think of it all.  Usually when he got back from Minas Tirith, he was all a bluster about her being an elegant lady, and marrying some powerful noble and giving up her training.  Normally, he’d be delighted to see her putting so much effort into this, instead of whiling away her days practicing with her bow, but he could well be annoyed at it all if he was feeling the other way.  After drills, they paired off to spar in real practice, after taking a moment for them all to bind their blades in cloth.  As always, though, Niara found herself having a hard time keeping her shield and sword apart.  Often she’d end up attempting to block or parry with her sword, when strictly speaking the form worked best if she used her shield, and kept the sword ready, this would then lead to her attempting to make use of openings with he shield, rather than her blade, which never really worked out.

The training went on, though, and she tried to keep up as best she could.  After a couple of hours, they broke for the evening, and Niara leaned against the wall of a stable, catching her breath.  She felt drenched in sweat, and her hair was struggling to escape its confines and get into a woeful mess.  Danas approached her, sword over one shoulder and an annoyingly cheerful grin on his face.  He didn’t even have the courtesy to look flustered or tired out, and barely seemed to have broken a sweat.

“You’re getting better, you know, I was watching your form when I could.  I know that your father thinks that if you become a shield maiden, you ought to be a proper formal one, and train with sword and shield and go to Edoras, and all that, but it looks to me like the style just doesn’t suit you.  You could try dual wielding, that way you’d never have to worry about which hand to defend with and which one to attack with.  That seems to be your sticking point.”  Once more, he picked up her discarded sword and shield, along with his own.  Niara just nodded, still regaining her breath, and wiped sweat from her brow.  After a moment she stood upright, leaning her head back and stretching.

“Be lighter too.  It’s easy for you, working away over there with more muscles than three of me, but that shield is heavy.”  Danas worked the small forge for the farm, taking care of what metalworking they needed done, when it was needed, and he looked more at home with the heavy smithing hammer in his hand, than with his sword, but the result was that he was easily the largest and strongest man on the farm, and took notably longer to tire than any of his sparing partners.  Mind you, he had removed his shirt while drilling, and the sharp smell of the thin sheen of sweat coving his rather well defined body were all things that Niara noticed, while trying to pretend she didn’t.  “Maybe you can show me what you mean some time.  Formal may be well and good, but I’d rather survive when the actual attack comes.”  Danas nodded to her, before turning to head back to the small group of buildings where he and the other farm hands stayed, and Niara leaned back against the stable wall, thinking things she really though she ought not to.

With an hour or so left of light, she and the other hands set about tending and bedding down the horses for the evening, and Niara made sure to check properly on Anis and her new foal.  As the last of the light was fading, a shout came from the roof of the homestead, and Niara came into the courtyard to find her father’s caravan filing in and assembling.  She rushed over to give him a hug as he dismounted, shouting happily, while at the same time another part of her groaned inwardly at the thought of having to take care of all the other horses, and unpacking and sorting the large amount of bartered goods he’d brought back.  It would probably take them at least another couple of hours, if not more.

“Father, you’re back!  We though you’d be home soon.  I’m so glad you’re safe!  How were the roads?  We’ve so much to tell you, though you’ve probably heard a lot already from Edoras, I guess.  Did you do well?  It looks like you did.  Anis foaled just this evening, I’ve just finished bedding them down.  What—” Her enthusiastic rambling was cut off by there father’s strong laugh.

“Calm, Niara-girl, Calm!  Easy!  It’s been a long day!  I’ve got some very important news, but lets get everyone settled and unpacked first, we can talk about everything later over some proper supper.”  The hands that had travelled with him were beginning to unpack and lead the train horses away to be cared for, but she noticed that a good many of them were wearing scale or chain shirts, and all of them had weapons, none of which they’d left with two months ago.  More than that, there were three faces she couldn’t see among them, men she knew had set out with her father, and most certainly ought to have come back with him.  Giving her father another quick kiss on the cheek, she dived into the bustle of hands unloading and tending, losing herself in the work, and the gentle wash of conversation drifting back and forth between people who hadn’t seen each other for a time.  Much small news passed between them as they worked, and a part of her was surprised that so little of the conversation touched on the conflict that seemed to be consuming the land.  It was reassuring, in its way, she thought; you might start wearing armour, and carrying weapons, and your farm might become a fortress, but underneath it all, everyone was still themselves, and still wanted to talk about the trading and the news from afar, and conflict be damned.

“Niara!”  A call pulled her out of her quiet thoughts as she cleaned tack and she glanced up to see Treffar, now complete with scale shirt and a somewhat intimidating, if plain and functional two-handed sword on his back.  “I see the unpleasantness with the orcs has reached your ears here as well.  I’m glad to see you took it into your head to prepare the place for what may come, some of us were worried we might be coming back to a burnt ruin.”  Niara couldn’t help a smile.  He looked so different with the weapon and armour, but it seemed to have come to suit him already, and he still sounded like the Treffar she knew underneath.

“We probably knew about the troubles before you did, Treff.  There’ve been reports from a number of farms, attacked, ransacked, raided… sometimes they just take horses, black ones, other times they burn and destroy everything.  None of us wanted to see that happen here, so we set to.”  The other man picked up some dropped tack and set to cleaning it along side her.

“Aye, but all of this, the defences, the sentries, the training I’ve been hearing about.  No-one else here would think like that, I’ll wager all of this came right from your mind, didn’t it, girl?  The other men might not admit it, but your mind’s sharp like a razor and quick to work out what needs doing.  That’s why your father wants to keep you here on the farm.  Sure, he might want to you find a husband from somewhere for him to train in taking care of the place, but we all know it’ll really be you running the show in the end.”  Here Niara snorted, blushing despite herself, but still perturbed.

“Thanks, but I don’t suppose he’s ever going to take the time to ask if I want to spend my life here.  I love the horses, and I love my father, but—” She hesitated, not quite sure how to put to words what she was thinking.  “There’s big things going on in the world, and not all them nice.  I feel like I want to help, want to do something about it, and I can’t do that from here.  There’s some that have whispered that the Enemy has returned, you know.  I know, if that’s happened those who fight will need horses, but I just can’t do that all my life.”  She inspected the piece she’d finished and put it away, taking up the next, avoiding his eyes.  “You’re right though.  My plans and ideas.  I’d like to actually build a tower or two, to post the sentries in properly, maybe train everyone with a bow a little, but we’ve not the time, or resources, for it.”

More horses were lead in and bedded down, more tack placed alongside the growing pile for cleaning, and Thamas settled in with them to help.  The boy was only about fourteen, and had gone with her father for his first chance at seeing the Minas Tirith.  Niara was glad he’d made it back in one piece.  Treffar scuffed him lightly over the back of the head, and claimed he was just shirking carrying duty.  Thamas, grinning, suggested that if more were needed for carrying, someone bigger and stronger than him ought to get out and do it.  Treffar turned his attention back to Niara as she interrupted them.

“So, tell me, Father said he had some big, important news for me.  I’m dreading what it is, unless it’s that he’s finally made up his mind once and for all exactly what he wants of me.  Either way it’ll be a relief if he just stops changing his mind.  Either of you two care to fill me in?”  She didn’t like the way they glanced at each other, only for the briefest of seconds, but it was there.  Treffar spoke up first.

“The boss has been keeping very quiet about that.  A few of us think we might have worked it out, but—” He made a pained expression, and Thamas took over.

“Your Da wants to be the one to tell you, and we could just as well be wrong in our guess.  What we’re guessing isn’t something we’d want to be wrong about telling you, so you’ll just have to wait until we’re all done and he decides to tell you.”  Niara tried to control the scowl taking over her features.  She couldn’t exactly blame them, in the end.  Her father’s temper was something no man on the farm wanted to be on the wrong end of, and for that matter, she’d heard whispers that they dreaded her almost as much.

“Fine.  How about something you can tell me.”  She looked down.  “Though I’m not sure I want to hear it confirmed, really.  Fridrick isn’t with you all, nor Nestan, nor Eoswart.  Tell me of them.”  The air dropped, and silence settled for a moment as they all cleaned.  It was Thamas that spoke first, surprisingly.

“It is as you fear, Niara.  For Nestan and Eoswart, at least.  We were attacked a couple of times on the way out, between Edoras and the White City.  Small bands, trying their luck, because we weren’t defended or anything to begin with.  Even bandits once or twice, not just orcs.”  The young man spat, a derisive, disgusted gesture she’d never seen the boy make before.  “Was a man as did for Nestan in the end, not an orc or any servant of the Enemy, from behind, while he was stopping another bandit unhitching the horses.”  He shook his head.  “I was there, but he thought I was too small to be a threat.  I gutted him with my knife, but I couldn’t save Nestan.”  As she looked at him more closely, Niara noticed for the first time, a weight behind his eyes that no boy his age ought to have.  She gripped his shoulder for a moment as Treffar continued.

“Eoswart fell halfway back, to an orc arrow.  We were prepared and ready, so no parties attacked us directly, but there were small groups of them on the plains, and they’d take shots at us when they thought we wouldn’t chase.  Couldn’t chase, mostly, we couldn’t leave the horses, and we’ve no real bowmen among us to keep them out of bowshot.”

“And Fridrick?”  Here they both seemed to brighten somewhat.

“No!  He’s fine, fine as can be!  We stopped over for a day in Edoras, and he met a very fine looking lass while he was off looking for interesting things at the market.  You know what the man’s like with his curiosities and all.  Anyhow, they fell head over heels for each other in a heartbeat, and he decided to stay on there and make a life for himself.  Isn’t that grand to hear in times like this?”  The heavy atmosphere lifted then and their conversation drifted on to other things as they steadily got the work done.

It was well into darkness by the time it was all done, the horses all settled and the supplies unpacked and stored away.  Niara felt ragged and tired and she dropped down at the table in the homestead’s main room, loosening the strings on her shirt and stretching a little.  Her father brought through a pair of battered old plates with the plain but satisfying meals she was used to him preparing from her childhood.  It had been years since he’d actually prepared supper for them both, a duty she’d taken over of her own accord when she had been about twelve, so she noticed the gesture with a raised eyebrow.  Her father smiled and shrugged.

“I may have been riding all day, but you look exhausted.  You’ve been very busy, my girl, from what I hear.  Turned this place into a right defensive outpost, by the looks of it.  Some of the men were worried, you know, but I never doubted you’d pull everyone together.”  He was building up to something, she could tell.  Her father was a strong man, large of frame and energetic.  She had always felt like nothing I the world could tire him, or wear him out, and he always just seemed to make every situation that much more comfortable by being around.  Except when he was angry at something, that was.  Then all that energy and presence turned into a bursting rage that very quickly made anyone on the end of it change their minds.  She secretly enjoyed it, when he’d have it out with someone, as long as it wasn’t her.  Now though, he seemed a little hesitant, but happy at the same time.  She tried to piece together what he might be wanting to tell her as she ate.

“We’ve been training when we can, with the forms you taught me, and with some other bits and pieces.  Still can’t get the hang of it myself, but the other men seem to be doing well.”  She replied as casually as she could, relaxed, unconcerned.  She knew her father had been a bit worried the last couple of trips he’d made, about leaving her on the farm by herself, with all the other farm-hands, and her already beyond an age where she might have married already.  It wasn’t that he didn’t trust them, she knew; he was quite confident that none of them would get any ideas and risk his temper.  The issue was that he didn’t altogether trust them to risk her own wrath should she herself get any inappropriate ideas.  Not really an issue, truth be told, as she’d only started really thinking about men in that way recently, and she was quite sure she had more restraint than that anyhow.  Even so, she was aware of his worry, so best to put it at ease.  He father ran one hand over his short beard, the other folded at his chest.  He seemed to brace himself.

“Niara.  You know I’ve been uncertain for a time about how best to guide you in life, and I know you’ve been frustrated at me for it time and time again.  Well, it’s over.  I’ve made up my mind once and for all now, and with it I have some excellent news for you.”  Niara felt tense all over for a moment, and a part of her knew the words that followed, even as she refused to believe them.  “You’re to be married, my girl!  Very powerful young man, a captain of Minas Tirith.  Some folk say he’s been in council with the Steward himself on a number of occasions.  It’s an excellent match, a better meeting of wealth and power we couldn’t hope for.  Isn’t that great!?”  A dead weight dropped through her body, sinking into the ground and leaving a cold disbelief in its wake.  A part of her had known and feared what he was saying before he said it, but now it was there, in front of her, real and unquestionable.  She was frozen for a moment.  The weight of just how much she didn’t want such a fate crashed down on her all at once, built up from all her trips to the City, and her distaste for nobility and ceremony, the resentment of her father controlling her life.  This couldn’t happen.

“No.  No, father, you can’t do that!  I won’t!”  The cold dead feeling swelled into an icy fury, a rage migrating up through her chest, absorbing her disbelief into outright rebellion against it.  “How could you do that without asking me!?  Why!? You can’t do this!  No!!”  She hadn’t noticed herself rise to her feet, fists clenched white and pressed into the table, staring down at the man wincing before her.  He had known she wouldn’t react well, no matter how he broached the matter, of course he had, he knew her, didn’t he?  And yet he had done it anyway.  He looked up at her, calming his features again.

“It’s done, Niara.  Done.  I have the contract here, see?  He has signed it, as have I; it’s a contract now.  Be happy, dear one.  You can ask for no better match in life, and he is a handsome man as well.  Please, be reasonable.”  As he spoke he had pulled a small scroll from his robe, tied and sealed.  It looked disgustingly like the same sort of contracts she’d seen and used dozens of times, dealing with horse trades.

“Reasonable!?  How is signing my life away to someone else without asking me Reasonable!?  How is any of this Reasonable!?  You have no right to do this, none!  I’m a grown woman, I ought to have a say in this!  You be reasonable!”  She heard herself punch the table top fiercely as she shouted at him.  Her father’s features shifted slightly, and she could see his calm slipping, but she didn’t care any more.  “I Will not do this!  I will Not!!  You have no right to make me do this, and you can’t!  None of you can!”  Her father was on his feet now was well, once again standing above her.

“Right?  I have every right, girl!  I am your Father!  It is my duty to see you have the best life you can, and I’m doing it.  You are my daughter, and you will accept the life I build for you!  This contract took a lot of doing, and it is a very good match for everyone!  You Will go to Minas Tirith, and you Will marry this man.  It is a done deal, and you cannot break the contract now!  Be a good daughter for once and listen to your Father!  You say you are a grown woman, so act like one!”

“Oh, so all a woman is, is something to be married and follow orders!?  That is what it is to be a grown woman, is it!?  Maybe that’s what they do with their women in Gondor, but this is Rohan, Father, and I am a woman of Rohan, and I will Not be forced into a marriage like this!  I’m not one of the horses, Father, you can’t treat me like your property, like livestock!”

“Would you stop acting like a child, girl!?”  Their argument had raised to a plate-shaking pitch by now, standing across from each other over the table, shouting a the top of their lungs at each other, the sealed contract scroll sitting between them. 

Outside, several of the farm’s hands had crept out of their own buildings to creep around the sides of the homestead, led by James.  The listened, part in horror and part in guilty glee to the raging argument resonating from the house, smirking and grinning to each other as the volume grew along with the harsh words.  At the front of the small cluster, Tham and James winced at each new peak of shouting, until a large hand on each of their shoulders made them freeze.  They looked up to see blue eyes reflecting the moonlight.

“That’s enough, boys.”  Danas’ voice was a calm whisper, serious against their apparent glee.  “Back to you beds.  The rest of you too.  Let them have it out, it’s none of our concern at the moment.”  The boys both pulled faces at him, before slinking back to their own rooms, followed by the small cluster of disappointed hands.  Danas waited behind a moment longer, frowning to himself.  Half of them had been expecting this fight, those who had worked out what the news was, but none of the others had really thought much beyond what it would actually mean.  They’d be losing Niara soon, and whether or not she came back some years from now, they’d all miss her presence on the farm.  She may not even be the same person by then, married and probably a mother; they might all soon see the last of the bright-eyed and fiery young woman that had held them together during the hard times, even when she was younger.  Danas had only come to work at the farm a year ago, and had only ever known her a she was now, but some of the older men had watched her grow up.  They didn’t agree with this either, but always the response was that, agree or not, that’s just how it was done.  He couldn’t help but think it was a waste.

“Hear this, Father.  I will find a way, I will unmake this contract, I swear it!”

Niara slammed the door behind her, storming out into the courtyard with angry tears streaking her face.  She stamped back and forth, fists opening and clenching again, failing to contain her frustration, until she let out a rageful shout that woke several of the horses, and punched the stonework of the farmstead as hard as she could.  She felt the skin on her knuckle break and punched again, and again, crying out with each strike.  When she pain grew too great she switched to the other fist and kept punching, until her body gave out and she sunk to the ground, sobbing.

It was minutes before she recovered enough to notice the rough mug of water being offered to her.  She took it and drank, before looking up into the only pair of eyes she’d expect to be on the end of such a gesture.  Danas sat down beside her.  He didn’t say anything, and she was grateful for it.  She didn’t know if she wanted him to say anything, really, or what he might say that wouldn’t just upset her more.  Instead, she wiped her eyes and drained the mug.

“I won’t do it, you know.  I’ll find a way.”  She sniffed, trying to clear her voice properly.  Danas handed her his own mug of water, and she drank that too.  He looked up at the stars for a moment.

“If it comes to it, you don’t have to stay, Niara.  We’d all miss you, but, if it comes to it, you know we’d all rather see you get out, get away, and live the life you want, than stay here with us and be unhappy.”  She could hear it in his voice though, and see it in his eyes.  He wanted her to be happy, yes, but he wanted her to stay just as much.

“Thanks.  But I’m not going to run away.  I won’t back down.  There’ll be a way.”

“I hope you’re right, Niara, but if you get forced into a marriage with a man you don’t want, then I’d have to pity that poor soul more than you.”  The remark made Niara smirk, then laugh a little, and Danas smiled.  She liked how he always seemed to be able to pick what to say to defuse a situation.

“You’d better, because he’ll get none from me.  I’m going to sleep Danas; perhaps father will see sense in the morning.  I know he cares how I feel, even if he’s not showing it now.  Thanks for waiting.”  He nodded as she stood and made her way back inside.

Her father had retreated to his own room after their fight, and was probably feeling bad for shouting at her.  At least, she hoped he was.  The contract was still on the table where they had left it, and Niara picked it up.  Taking a candle with her in her other hand, she returned to her room and undressed for bed, retaining just a light shift.  Sitting on her bed, then, she carefully unrolled the contract and started to read over it.  There had to be something she could do.

The next few days were tense about the farm, with most of the hands moving gingerly and quiet when they could.  Niara resumed her normal duties taking care of the horses and training them, while other of the hands took the scouting runs out from the farm.  They trained as before, with the returned men joining in easily, and Niara with them, working harder than ever before at her form and combat style, shooting dark looks at her father in between.  Normally, he might have told her to leave off, but instead he just glowered in silence.  Neither felt like sparking another explosion like the first night, and any words they did share were terse and short.

On the fifth day, the atmosphere bested her father and he told everyone he would scout for the day before taking his horse and leaving the farm.  Niara took a deep breath as she watched him go, biting her lip for a moment, before letting it out in a sharp sigh and squaring her shoulders.  The contract said she was to make for the Minas Tirith within one week of receiving the news, and that they would expect her, her father and their escort approximately a month and a half after his departure from the city.  She had not been able to convince him, so in reality, if he didn’t like her solution, it was his fault anyway.  She repeated the last to her self, under her breath as she made her way to the forge.

Danas was working there, as she had hoped, shirt off, in just his apron and pants, making door hinges today.  It seemed that several of the hinges about the farm, old already, had not been able to stand up to the recent spate of door slamming.  He looked up as she entered, resting down his hammer and stretching.

“I’m not sure the farm can withstand your fury and your father’s together for much longer.  Please don’t tell me you’ve broken something else, Niara.”  The hot forge behind him highlighted the blue of his eyes as they sparkled with mirth.  Niara took a breath.

“Not yet, no, I, uh…  I want…”  She had thought about how to approach this several times, but any plans for words dissolved in her mind as she tried to speak.  She could feel herself blushing fiercely as she thought about what she was trying to say and hoped the heat of the forge would cover it.  Danas tilted his head.

“Niara?  What’s the matter, are you doing ok?”  He stepped forward to place a hand on her shoulder and she shivered slightly.  She was ready to try this, but light she was scared.

“Danas, I need, um, I…”  Cursed words.  She spurred herself mentally, then reached up with one hand around the back of his head and kissed him.  He didn’t move at first, then softly kissed her back, responding to her until she pulled away.  There was no way the forge heat would cover the strength of her blush now.  She looked up at him, almost sheepishly, biting one lip and wondering how to go forward.

“What I want is, em…”  The look of surprise had passed from Danas’ face and he licked his lips with a small smile before blinking and focusing his attention back on her.

“Is to break the contract, right?”  Niara started at his words, the fringes of embarrassment creeping in.  Not how she’d wanted to bring it up, really.

“What?  How do you…?”

“I read over it two days ago, when neither of you were watching.  There’s only one clause in that agreement that you have any sort of power to do anything about, and that’s the presupposition of your maidenhood.  Here, folk don’t tend to get so caught up about that unless it’s the king and his kin involved, but we both know that over in Gondor even the nobility care about that, and it’d be a deal-breaker.”  The hand on her shoulder had been joined by a second slipping about her waist gently as he spoke, and Niara nodded.  A moment later she looked up quickly.

“Oh, but it’s not…  I mean, it’s not just like that, I…  I do want, that is, I think I—”  Her stumbling words were cut off a moment later as Danas kissed her, and she found herself arching up on her toes to kiss back, her heart racing.  It was another minute before they came up for air.  The hand at her waist had slipped tentatively around to her rear, and she hadn’t stopped it.  He stroked her hair with his other hand, one rough finger sliding down to trace the scar on her cheek delicately.

“I know, Niara, and it’s ok.  Here, let me make it easier for you.  Niara, of Foregate, I’d be greatly honoured if you would lie with me.”  His voice was light, almost humorous, but there was a faint tinge on his cheeks that was more than just a flush from working, and nestled against his chest, she could feel his heart beating almost as fast as hers.  She waved her eyebrows at him.

“Not exactly the longest courtship, hmm?”  She bit her lip.  “But, I’m…  I’m a little scared.”  She felt him trying not to chuckle as she spoke.

“Oh, Niara…  Niara who has scouted the forces of the Enemy unfazed, and traded arrows with orcs trying to kill her, unflinching, and now you’re scared?  Well, let me say this: It’s unexplored territory for both of us, so we can be nervous together, how about that?”  She leaned back for a moment to look at him properly as he spoke, almost incredulous.

“Really?”

“Really.”

“Wow… come with me.”  She stepped back and beckoned to him leaving the forge.  The farm had a number of large stables for their horses, and as a general rule not all of them would be in use at any one time.  One advantage of running the farm while her father was away was that Niara knew exactly which places had no-one and nothing in them, as well as where all the farm hands would be, and where they wouldn’t.

She led him across the courtyard and between the buildings on the other side, out to the stable that wasn’t being used.  There was the faint scent of horse and of clean, fresh straw, laid down and ready for whenever it might see more use.  The thumping in her chest hadn’t subsided the whole time, and showed no sign of doing so as they reached the end of the line of stalls and she turned to kiss him again.  This one lasted a lot longer, with gasps for breath in between as she explored and tasted his lips with hers.  Her whole body tingled with nervous anticipation as she felt his hands on her back, rubbing and caressing as they kissed.  Light, she was so ready for this.

Her own hands ran over his body briefly, before struggling with the task of removing his smithing apron, revealing his broad, muscled chest.  Still uncertain, she tried to relax and let her body do as it willed while she inhaled deeply, enjoying the sharp scent of his sweat, the taste of his lips, the feel of running her hands across his skin and through his hair.  She could hear herself making small moans and gasps, unconscious as they were needy.  Danas’ hands were moving on her body as well, first at her back and shoulders, then more boldly stroking and squeezing lightly at her rear.  Then there were fingers under the hem of her shirt, sliding up, rough fingers, coarse against her smooth skin, but a sensation she found pleasant even so.  Her shirt moved with his hands as they rose, and she lifted her arms for him to pull the garment off.

As he dropped it aside, she wrapped her hands around the back of his neck, pulling herself close against him as she felt his hands pluck at the tie on her breast band.  Soon that fell free as well, and she leaned back against the wall of the stable to look at him, as he appreciated her.  They were both breathing quickly, and she could see a hot desire in those amazing blue eyes that had never been allowed to show before.  Just looking at him like this made her loins tingle, and she moved in for another kiss.  His hands, first brushing over her waist as she moved in close again, moved up to stroke over the outside of her exposed breasts.  She gasped slightly at the sensation of hands not her own touching there, and they jerked away, but she pulled them back a moment later, breaking their kiss long enough to murmur encouragement to him.

“Mmm, yes, go gently, but yes.”

She sighed again as his hands continued, stroking over the sensitive flesh, one finger toying lightly with her left nipple.  Her body felt like it was trembling on the edge of something, wanting but not quite understanding what yet.  She pressed herself closer against him, kissing his cheek, his jaw, then down to his neck while her hands dragged down his back.  Her hips were grinding against him, and without thought she lifted one leg up to bring her groin in closer to his.  She could feel a hardness there, only a few layers of fabric between her and it.  It terrified her, and she wanted it more than anything else right now.

As she pressed in closer, Danas moved forward, letting her shoulders rest against the wall as they ground against each other, his hands leaving her breasts to seek downward, under the band of her leggings, and her underwear, to squeeze at her behind again, more directly this time.  His hands were so large, more than capable of cupping her buttocks, and she could feel the tips of his fingers bushing now and again against the tops of her thighs, touching so close to the source of heat, so demanding now it was beginning to dampen her underwear.  She groaned, holding him as tightly against her as she could.  She had to do something about this soon or it was just going to kill her.  Steeling her nerves she moved her hands to the tie on his leggings and reached inside, tentative fingers finding a solid, pulsing heat that felt much larger than she had anticipated.  She heard Danas groan aloud as her hand explored the length, wondering if it would really go... there…  She looked up at him, to work out what the groan meant and he nodded to her before they kissed again.  She swallowed and pushed his pants downwards until they fell to the ground around his feet, her breath catching for a moment as he did the same for her. 

Naira had planned ahead, wearing only a pair of soft slippers for moving about the farm, and stepped easily out of the fallen garments.  Danas had not been so lucky and still wore heavy boots, but it didn’t matter.  She licked her lip to stop herself biting it, and looked into his eyes again.

“Lie down.”  Her voice barely made it above a whisper as she tried to speak.  Danas nodded to her nonetheless and lay back in the hay.  She felt his eyes tracing her body, fully exposed to him now, even as she took a moment to enjoy the view herself.  Her eyes lingered on the stiff shaft standing upright at his groin, intimidating, before she knelt down, straddling him with a knee either side of his waist and the threatening shaft twitching gently against the soft patch of dark, mousey hair that crested her sex.  She could feel the dampness of her desire leaking onto him, and tried to shove the self-conscious feelings to the back of her mind, instead leaning over him to kiss and nuzzle at his face again.  She could hear his breath in her ear as she leaned close to him.

“Niara…  You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.  You smell intoxicating and your skin is so soft.  Are you sure you’re not some kind of goddess?”  The comment sent a shiver through her and she smiled between increasingly demanding kisses.  Pressing herself up, hands planted on his chest, she could feel her hips grinding against him again, the contact more direct and pleasing than before, but still not what her body wanted.  The heat moved between her legs, pressing against hot, damp folds, becoming slick with her desire as her hips moved and increasing the sensation further.  Her breath came out in small gasps at the feeling, and she could hear Danas stifling grunts and moans as her hips thrust back and forth against him, pressing hard.  She leaned in close to him again, her hair forming an off-blonde curtain around their faces as she looked into his eyes, watching his expression.  The shift brought his slicked shaft rubbing up against her most sensitive spot and she gasped suddenly, eyes flicking shut.  Her fingers dug into where they now clutched his shoulders as the motions caressed her again and again, eliciting another small gasp each time.  The crescendo of sensation came upon her suddenly, a bursting, racing, body-shuddering peak like she had never achieved on her own.  Her body went tight except for the motion of her hips which pumped fervently as she muffled her cry in his neck.  She could feel his hands grasping at her waist after a moment, holding her hips still somewhat, though waves of pleasure wracked through her body for a minute more.

She lifted her head to find Danas’ eyes again, and tried to murmur an apology through her ragged breathing.  He was grinning at her, one hand stroking her shuddering back now.

“It’s ok, are you ok?  How are you doing?”  His voice was soft, though still layered with heat and desire.  She pushed herself upright again, tilting her hips back and forth as she watched his eyes.

“I’m…  I’m, wow…  Mmmhh…  I’m thinking, you’re not where I am yet, and we’ve still not done what we came here for.”  This time she did bite her lip, and he caught her brief hesitation.

“Are you sure you’re ready to do this, Niara?  Light knows I want you, so much I can’t think, but, are you sure?”  Again, she hesitated, moving her hips back and forth across his length in an attempt to psyche herself up.  Danas moaned again as she did, and she thought about how much she wanted to share what she had felt with him, for him.

“Yeah, yes, I’m…  I’m ready, just, let me do this, alright?”

“Sure, take your time.”  Even now, trying to be reassuring, when she could feel him burning with lust beneath her.  She grinned at him, and knelt up straight on her knees, feeling his length slide upright against her as her groin rose, until just the tip of his head twitched against her heat.  She kept her eyes locked on his, drinking in that beautiful blue as she shifted just slightly, until she could feel him rubbing not against heated flesh, but poised at her very entrance, then gradually let herself sink down again.  Resting at her waist, she felt Danas’ hands clench and tighten as he began to enter her, but she couldn’t go on at once.  She swallowed, breathing deep.  It felt so much thicker, down there, than it had to look at.  Too far to back out though.  She pressed down again, further this time, feeling his length pushing into her, stretching, in a way that made her eyebrows leap high as she gasped.  Danas moaned softly with each breath and small movement she made now, and it encouraged her to keep going.  She lifted and pressed with a gentle rhythm, each time taking his length into her further and further, reminding herself to keep breathing as she got used to the sensation.  Eventually she knelt astraddle him properly, their pubic hair mixing.  She looked down at her lover, her fingers playing across his chest, still shifting her hips slightly dealing with the new feeling.

“How’s that?”

“That’s… Ahhhh…   Mmmmmm…”  His eyes drifted shut as his hands caressed her hips, the burly blacksmith for once at a loss for words.  Unusual stretched feeling aside, it still felt nicely pleasant to her, though not in a way that was likely to go anywhere.  She leaned down close to him, her head resting on his chest, realising what she really wanted to see, and feel.

“I’ll bet your body knows what it wants better than I do, hmm?  I’m yours now, however you feel you want.”  She felt his hands on her back again, his large, strong arms around her.

“We may need to move for that, then.”

“I was hoping you’d say that.”  She felt Danas shuck his boots off along with the remainder of his undergarments, then lift and hold her bodily against his chest as he first sat, then turned over, one hand holding her to him, the other supporting his weight.  She wrapped her legs around him instinctively as he moved, enjoying the feeling of his strength all around her.  Her back was on the ground then, with Danas above her, their bodies pressing.  One of his hands was beside her head, the other stroking at her breast.  Giving her another brief kiss, he began to move, flexing his hips and thrusting his length in and out of her in a firm rhythm.  Above her, she could hear his breath rasping vocally as the motions made her body shift.  It felt nice, she decided, the power of it, the thrusting crating a sensation utterly alien to anything she’d felt before.  More than nice, she wanted him to move faster, and harder.  Another sensation was building in her loins, familiar, yet different.  A drop of sweat struck her shoulder as Danas moved, his rhythm picking up as his thrusts grew fiercer.  Her body shook as his motions pounded against her and she dragged ecstatic fingers down his back.  She could feel a peak coming, faster than before, but Danas beat her to it, his other hand slamming onto the ground on her other side as he drove himself against her, crying out in a deep, husky voice that tipped her over the edge as well.  She gripped him tightly in every way she could as a second climax raged through her body.  His form felt like rock and steel in its tenseness, forced hard up against her, and deep inside her. 

A moment later, the tightness melted from his body, and she felt his limbs tremble slightly.  He shifted to let himself drop sideways, and still clinging she flipped with him to lie on top, still enjoying the sensation of his warmth inside her.  She had never seen him so exhausted before.  It was very cute.  One finger traced a lazy spiral over his nipple as she kissed at him softly.  He looked up at her with tired eyelids.

“You know, your father is not going to be happy at all.”  She could only smile and bury her face in his chest for a moment.

“No, master Danas.  No he will not.”

Later, after they had cleaned up somewhat, Niara was redressing herself quickly.  Beside her, Danas still seemed to be recovering somewhat, but was on his feet and dressed at least.  She looked across at him, reaching over to stroke one finger down his cheek as she watched his eyes.

“Listen, if you’re worried about, well, consequences, I’m safe, or at least it should be, so don’t.  But no-one else can know about this at all, you understand?”  Danas nodded at her concerned tone.

“Of course, and I think I know why.”

“Right.  If father finds out who I went to, well, no power in this world will save you, and at the very least you’ll be turned away.  It’ll be fine as long as I’m the only one he can lay blame to.  You can’t tell any of the other hands either, because you know he’ll ask, and if he thinks any of them know anything, he’ll press.  They’re all good men, and none of them will give in easy, but this is my Father we’re talking about.  He’ll get it out of one of them if they know.  No one can suspect anything.  Am I all straight?”  She stood for Danas to give her a look over, before hugging him one more time and returning to the farmstead.  Danas waited a few more minutes before returning to the forge.

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