Caranwyn's Tale: In Defence of Middle Earth

Notes: This is the first of Caranwyn's chapers hinting at the beginnigns of something a little more adult, Given that she's 15 during this chapter, I ought to probably add a cautionary "underage" tag... although let's face it, very few people make it to "legal" in complete purity these days anyway, do they? Also, as you might guess, a tagging for hinted-at Incest.

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A Telling Mark

The sounds of activity in the City were dampened and distant as the girls ran and weaved through the disused back alleys and old forgotten buildings. It was all empty and quiet around them as they explored, running for the joy of the exercise, and seeking interesting rooms, houses, or long forgotten memories at the same time.

They were somewhere on the third level, by Caranwyn’s reckoning, though so much of the White City was empty of people. It was hard to imagine it as it had been once, long before they had been born, full and bustling with life and people. Perhaps, one day when the shadow was finally defeated, that glory would return. She hoped to see it, one day.

“I think mother is planning on making something nice for us this evening. I wonder what it’ll be?” Russellwen had climbed up a stack of empty crates, looking down the length of the alley they were on, towards the roof of an unusual-looking building they were making for. Today marked the end of their fifteenth year, and as far as fifteenth birthdays went, Caranwyn was enjoying her day off so far. They had both been up early, before sunrise, dressed, and headed out into the City, taking a light breakfast on the way. It wasn’t often they had days off at all, any more, and the pair intended to spend it doing just as they pleased, and no more.

“I don’t know,” She called back. “But there’s sugar involved, I’m sure of it. She brought home much more than usual yesterday. See anything?” She glanced up at where her sister was still perched, then down the alleyway as well.
“It’s not far. Maybe it’s a market area of some sort? We might even find something left behind, wouldn’t that be interesting?” Russellwen jumped down from the crates, dropping to a crouch and putting one hand to the ground as she landed next to her sister. “Come on!” There was laughter as they both broke into a run again.

The world around them was growing less pleasant, so they were told. There was always skirmish and conflict, true, but the darkness was growing as the years passed, and they could all feel it, after a fashion. Their mother had stopped trying to stop her military training altogether, for one thing, though she had had serious words with their father about keeping a close eye on her and the boys she trained with.

Russellwen was still learning the various healing arts, if anything, more intently than before, but had taken up archery as well, proving to have a much better knack for it, not only than her sister, but also than any of the other boys as well. Slowly, the City as a whole was moving towards the realisation that a full-scale war was coming, inevitably.

They arrived at the corner of the building panting slightly, and looked around. The front was simply a series of tall arches, forming open entryways, into a large square. The structure itself, it seemed incorrect to call it a building, now that they were close, was little more than a complex stone latticework covering the open square, the other sides of which, like the one they stood at, being comprised of the same series of archways. On either side, the arches seemed to lead off into the interiors of the buildings they faced onto, while across from them, they looked out into an alley beyond, running alongside the one they had run down.

The courtyard itself was mostly empty, sporting several old-looking boxes and crates, marked with individual letters, likely a property mark long forgotten. In the centre, a trio of white stone figures stood, swords raised to a point above them that almost reached out through an opening in the roof, and with shields facing in towards each other, but tilted upward, so the base points of each kite converged at the centre, on the same line as the tips of their swords. Each of the three stood at the edge or the disc that supported them, slightly concave and raised off the ground itself by several feet. At the centre of the disc, on the same line as the tips of the swords and points of the shields, was a wide opening that descended into a support column, made of an intricate spiral lattice pattern, and hollow in the centre. This terminated in a final, deeper basin, impressed into the solid base of the statue, itself a slab of stone rising at least a foot deep off the ground.

The twins walked slowly around the impressive feature, taking it in. Caranwyn reached up, to lay a hand on one of the stone shields. It was impossibly smooth to the touch, and cool, despite the sunlight. There was no mark or device upon any of the shields, each of them blank and smooth, and none of the three heroes bore any resemblance to any historic figure she could remember having learned about. It was a moment before either of them spoke.

“Who do you think they’re supposed to be? I don’t recognise the scene.” Russellwen had walked a full circle around the work and come to stand back by her sister’s shoulder. Caranwyn tilted her head.
“I don’t know. They may not be anyone in particular. Look at the base here. See how the statue is all in lines, funnelling inwards? The base is like a catchment, and the support here is hollow, down to this bit. It might be supposed to have water in it, or something like that.” She felt Russellwen wrap her arms around her from behind with a small giggle, hugging her tight for a moment.
“See? This is why father wants you to take Captain training for the actual position. You see things like that, and you’re clever.” Caranwyn looked across at her sibling’s grinning features.
“You plan just as well as I do, you know. You just never speak up with ideas.”
“Maybe. I’m just never sure. I think things, but what if I’m wrong? Your plans are never bad, though.” She could feel herself blushing and ducked out from under her sister’s arms with a small laugh, racing over to one of the piles of abandoned crates instead. The first one seemed to have bolts of cloth in them, though they had grown frail and weak, beginning to tear apart easily as they pulled a roll or two out. The second, however, proved more interesting, containing an assortment of old scrolls and ledgers. The sisters cooed and exclaimed over their find, alternating sounds of surprise and excitement. The documents were old and brittle, and they spent ten minutes carefully extracting each one, laying them out on the smooth stone of the courtyard. Russellwen opened one of the sturdier-looking ledgers slowly.

“The writing is faded, but it looks like normal Westron. I think it’s a trade record.” She turned a leaf, kneeling on the ground in front of the document, and read aloud for a few lines. “ ‘Monday, 22nd, Traded two crates, Red, for supplies for next month. Tuesday 23rd, Sold one bolt, blue. One bolt, green. Three bolts, blue. Six bolts, red.’ A cloth merchant then. Hmm. What have you got?” She glanced across at Caranwyn, unrolling a large, double-rolled scroll with pains-taking care. The other girl’s brow furrowed as she looked at it.
“I don’t know. Come look.” Russellwen walked around to kneel beside her sister as Caranwyn held it open. The text on the scroll was small and neat, filling most of the sheet. There were several small diagrams on it as well, seeming to detail some sort of fortification design. “I can’t work out what it’s talking about. I think it’s part of a set. Look here,” she pointed to a paragraph, “it’s talking about repairs to the damaged section, and use of material listed in the previous document. Are there any others like this one?” The searched the box carefully, but didn’t come up with any scrolls like the other. At the very bottom, Caranwyn found a wooden box with a small brass catch. She pulled it out and dusted it off, marvelling.

“Look at this…” Old scrolls forgotten, they carefully opened the catch and lifted the lid of the box. The hinges were stiff, but still moved cleanly. Inside were nestled a small bundle of folded letters, wrapped and tied with a ribbon so old the fabric separated and fell aside as Caranwyn touched it. Pushing her luck, she lifted the fist document off the top, trying not to breathe too hard.
“Careful…” Russellwen urged beside her, leaning close. As she unfolded the letter, long stylised letters, in an elegant, florid hand revealed themselves. For a moment or two they simply looked at the letter.
“I can’t read it,”
“Me neither, what do you suppose it is?”
“Hmm. It’s similar to Westron, but it’s so old. It might even be old Adûnaic. I wonder what it says.” Beside her, Russellwen bit her lip, eyes still going back and forth over the faded text.
“It’s a personal letter, I’d say. The hand is so… fancy, and they took up a lot of space with the signature at the bottom here. Maybe it’s a love letter from some fair maiden to her sweetheart.” She giggled at the suggestion. Caranwyn refolded the letter with care, and placed it back into the box, closing the lid and resealing the clasp.
“Perhaps. We should bring it back with us though; they’ll want it for the archives, probably. If it is Adûnaic, it might even be a keepsake, passed down, as old as the City itself, for all we know. Father will know who we ought to show it to.” She placed the little wooden box back beside the crate it had come from and began collecting the other documents they’d laid out over the ground. Russellwen picked up the large construction scroll.
“We should probably bring this one as well, even if we didn’t find the rest of it. Maybe the rest is already in the archive?” She placed it beside the little box, as Caranwyn stacked the other papers and journals back into the crate and returned the lid. She stood, stretching.
“We’ll come and get them when we’re heading back. I want to go look about a little more first though, what do you think? If this was some merchant’s home, we might find all sorts of things in the buildings themselves. Which one should we look at first?” Russellwen pointed as Caranwyn grabbed her by the hand and they set off to find a way in.

Hours passed as they searched gleefully through the disused rooms, turning up an assortment of odds and ends in their explorations. They moved onto the next building down the way when they were done, and the next, before their investigation returned to the laughter-tinged running and climbing through the streets that began their outing. It was mid afternoon by the time they came to a halt at one end of a high wall, looking out over the levels below. Caranwyn glanced across at Russellwen, panting slightly, her cheeks tinged pink with a light sheen of sweat on her brow. Her sister smirked back, equally flustered, then turned her face to the breeze that greeted them. It was a moment before Caranwyn took a breath and wiped her forehead with one sleeve.
“We should think about heading back. I know father means to give us something to mark today, and it wouldn’t do to be late for whatever mother has in mind.” Russellwen stretched in the breeze for a moment more, then nodded.
“Race you back to that merchant’s house?” She took off, running already as she headed back down the length of the wall and into the alleyway with Caranwyn in close pursuit.

Caranwyn raced after her sister, leaping obstacles and weaving through archways, into other side alleys, tracing back the path they had come. She was faster in a sprint, perhaps, but the difference was close enough between them that the small spaces removed her advantage.
“You can’t catch me!” Russellwen’s taunt was coloured over by her attempts to breathe and laugh at the same time. Caranwyn called back, close on her heels.
“First to the statue!” They raced into the courtyard together, Russellwen reaching out a hand to the statue, then turning her back to it to break her momentum, just as Caranwyn reached a hand over her other shoulder in an effort to touch first.

They came to a halt with a soft thud, piling against each other as they struck. Caranwyn found herself looking into her sister’s eyes, alight with excitement, as she knew hers were as well. Their bodies were pressed together for the moment, and she could smell the sweet, tangy scent of her fresh perspiration, mixed with the smell that was uniquely her. They were both panting heavily, and she could feel Russellwen’s breath playing over her face, their features so close together they were almost touching. Caranwyn watched her sister, her laughter faded back behind the panting heat rushing through her. She wanted… what? She felt strange, excited, but not altogether sure what it was she was feeling in the first place. Neither of them moved for a few seconds longer, until Caranwyn shifted, leaning more heavily against her sister in a relaxed fashion, letting their cheeks brush softly. She heard Russellwen let out a long, quivering breath. The shift had left Caranwyn with the other girl’s thigh pressed firmly between her legs, and she was very aware of the fact.
“You run too fast,” she murmured, still panting, and let the strange moment slip by. Russellwen nodded her head, rubbing her cheek against her sister in return, more than an actual nod.
“You’re the one who crashed into me.” She made no movement to push the other girl off though. After a moment longer, Caranwyn stood away, running her fingers through her hair once and beginning to fan her face, trying to regain her breath, and remove the blush from her cheeks. She walked over to where they had left the old documents earlier.
“Come on, though we’d probably best walk while we’re carrying these things.” Russellwen joined her a moment later, still blushing herself, and they headed back towards home.

Rather than head directly home, the girls made their way through the winding streets until they reached the yard where their father was drilling the rest of their regular company. Still holding their prizes with care, they waited at the edge of the courtyard until he noticed them, and signalled a break. As he approached, the boys behind him waved, and Caranwyn flicked them a casual salute, free fist across her breast. Their father wiped one arm across his brow as he reached them, smiling at the pair.
“Afternoon girls. I thought we said you could have the day off; you look like you’ve run yourselves ragged out there today.” He chuckled as they glanced at each other. “What have you got there then?” Russellwen opened the scroll carefully for him part way, showing off one of the diagrams and some of the text. His eyebrows rose slightly as he looked at it. “Where did you find that then?” As her sister closed the scroll again, Caranwyn piped up.

“It was in an old building we found while we were out exploring the City. This as well.” She held up the box. “There’re letters in here; really, really old letters, and we can’t read them. They look a bit like normal Westron, but they aren’t. We thought they seemed important, so we brought them back.” Their father looked seriously at them.
“That does sound important. Good decision girls. Hold here a moment.” He turned back to the other boys, who were now edging closer to work out what was going on. “Warm down you lot, then you’re free for the evening. It seems your captain and her partner in crime have found a way to command even my attention now. I want you back half an hour early tomorrow though, to make up for this evening.” Despite the stricture there was still a general cheer from the boys, and their father shook his head before turning back to the girls. “Right, let’s go and take these to the archives. They’ll have a look at them at least.” The girls looked at each other again, barely containing their grins. Neither of them had ever had the chance to visit the City Archives before, since only important people, with important business went there. It was turning into a very exciting birthday indeed.

The archive itself was located high on the sixth level of the City, but they didn’t mind the walk, their minds occupied with thoughts about what the mysterious letters might contain. They stopped short in the open courtyard outside the entrance to the archives and their father saluted the two guards on duty.
“Thalanen, Instructor and Guard of the City. My daughters here found some documents while they wandered the old streets today, and they look as though they may be of import. I should like to show them to an archivist.” One of the guard nodded briefly, and passed through the doors behind him, returning after a minute with an older man, dressed in a simple, worn-looking tunic. He smiled faintly at the girls as he looked over the three, then to the objects they held.
“Not often we have reports of new finds from within the City itself, these days, let’s see what you’ve got there.” His voice was soft and kindly, but sounded more than a little tired. He reached out, and Russellwen passed him the scroll first. As they watched he unrolled it slowly and scanned the words and pictures, his eyes lighting up with a new excitement. After a moment he closed it again, almost reverently and looked between the girls.
“What were your names, young ladies?”
“Caranwyn, Sir.
“And I’m Russellwen, sir.” He smiled again, looking between them.
“Well, Caranwyn and Russellwen, daughters of Thalanen, let me tell you that, even at such a young age, with this document alone you have rendered, in my opinion, a truly great service to the White City this day.” He seemed to think for a moment, then nodded to himself. “Yes, hmm. Come with me, you as well, Thalanen, if you wish. I want to show you something.” Hardly daring to believe their luck, the girls followed close behind the old archivist as he led them into the building. It was dark inside, lit only by very intermittent candle light, though after a moment it was light enough at least to see where they were going. Their guide’s voice came back to them as they walked.

“Now, while you’re in here, please do not touch anything. A lot of these old documents are quite fragile, as I’m sure you might imagine. This way.” He led them through rows of cases, lined with old tomes and scrolls, amongst sheafs of other yellowed documents and records, until they arrived at a central work area, well lit and focussing on a large flat table, with room to set out many articles at once. “Wait here a moment, I’ll be right back.” He left them at the table and disappeared into the shadow again, returning a moment later with a small stack of similar –looking scrolls in his arms. He set them down carefully then, looking at the small tags tied to each, laid them out in order. There were five in all, though he left a gap after the second on the table. He turned back to them, smiling excitedly now.

“That scroll is part of a set, a set of six. It is the third, where we have had until now, only the first, second, fourth, fifth and sixth in our possession. We believed, until now, that is, that the third piece of the record must have been destroyed at some point, or lost. Though I suppose lost it was, but now you’ve found it for us! This is an important moment, you’ve made this a very special day for one old man at least, young ladies. Look…” He turned back to the table and carefully unrolled the scrolls together. The other five seemed to be in better keep than their addition, but not remarkably so. The archivist sighed as he looked over them all laid out.
“I shall go over the addition in more detail later, obviously, but it certainly is good to see the whole collection laid out together like this at last.” He glanced at them. “It’s actually a report detailing some reconstruction and repair work done to some of the fortifications of the outer wall, a long time ago. It tells us something of older techniques and methods, which I’m sure we’ll be able to make better sense of, now that the set is complete. Tell me, girls, how did you come by this?” Taking turns, the girls explained their exploration of the old building, and their discovery of the document crate. The old man shook his head, bemused.

“Such a strange turn, a piece like that stored away amidst old accounting records. It is small wonder that it was missed and forgotten about. Ah, but that brings us to your other piece of interest, let me see this box then, while you’re here.” Caranwyn handed him the small container and he placed it on the table, opening the clasp and raising the lid. They watched as he unfolded the first letter with the practiced delicacy that came from handling ancient scripts regularly. He went perfectly still as his eyes scanned over the words, however.
“Oh my… Oh my, we don’t see many of these at all.” He set the first aside, and checked a second, then a third letter, seeing that each bore the same unusual script, before carefully replacing them and closing the box again. He seemed a little overcome as he turned back to them.

“It almost defies belief that a pair of finds like these would simply fall into our laps one afternoon, I don’t know how to thank the pair of you for bringing them right here. Who would have thought they were simply lying in a crate, forgotten about, within the walls of our very City?” He seemed to collect himself after a moment. “At any rate, I’m not surprised you couldn’t read those notes; they are, as you suspected, Adûnaic script. Though, that makes them more ancient than it pays to think about, and I’m almost afraid to touch them now. I imagine they must have been passed down in their little case, like a family heirloom of sorts, to have survived in this fashion. It’s truly remarkable, at least, to an old scholar like me.” He hesitated. “Understand, though, I can’t go over them with you, just like that. They will need to be examined with great care, and their contents recorded, and, of course, if they should contain important or sensitive material, they must be kept for those with cause to know of them. I’m sorry I can’t offer you more than that, but, at least let me say again that you’ve both offered a great service and benefit to this fine City of ours this day. You both ought to be proud. Now, I shalln’t keep you in this dusty old archive any longer, but good fortune to you both, and should you find anything else of note like this, be sure to bring it right away.”

Once he had shown them outside, their father took each of them by a shoulder as they walked back out through the courtyard.
“Quite the bit of excitement, my girls, hmm? An interesting day indeed. I must go and finish up back at the training yard. I’ll see you both back at home later on. Don’t stay out too long though; I’ve something for each of you to mark today.” He rubbed their shoulders and gave each a brief kiss on the forehead before heading back the way they had come. Russellwen turned to her sister.
“I wanted to go check on what mother was doing this afternoon before we went home, wait for me?” Caranwyn grinned at her with a nod.
“Of course. Come and get me when you’re done, alright?” She squeezed the other girl’s hand for a moment, watching as she nodded, then took off at a quick run, heading for the healing houses. Caranwyn herself wandered more slowly back towards their home, but kept going as she passed, continuing until she reached the battlement of the third level. She looked out over the land for a few minutes, enjoying the afternoon breeze, but her eye was continually drawn back to the darkness in the east, the ever-growing shadow she could feel out there, far away, but not nearly far enough. It made her uneasy, and she turned around, leaning on the battlement instead, and looking down over the streets and courtyards of the third level. She could see Celegeth, Garthstan and Belemir climbing the stairs towards her, and waved to them. Another ten minutes passed as they quizzed her about the find, before remembering to add their birthday wishes, and passing into more casual conversation. As they chatted, Celegeth nudged Belemir with one elbow, smirking.

“Hey, that’s Avanith, isn’t it? Excellent scenery from up here, don’t you think?” The others followed his pointed gaze, down to where a small group of young women, of age with the boys, were sorting a variety of linens. The nearest girl, facing towards them with her head down as she worked, wore a light dress that afforded them, from their vantage point, an excellent view of her well forming cleavage. Caranwyn peered over with them, appreciating the sight with a grin. She glanced down the line at them.
“She’s not half bad, I’ll give you that much Celegeth. Although…” She nodded to the girl just behind, with her back to them. “What she might be lacking in upper level assets, Faenwyn there makes up for with some firm-looking foundations, wouldn’t you say?” She grabbed her rear with one hand for a moment, to illustrate, and there was a quiet jeer from the other boys.
“You’re not wrong there, captain.” Belemir chuckled as he answered. “Ah, but here comes our often-absent seventh, certainly the fairest pick of all the beautiful flowers below, no?” There was a general murmur of assent that quieted as Russellwen climbed the steps towards them, waving. After they had greeted each other, she stepped over to take Caranwyn by the arm.
“Alas, our bold captain and I must head home ahead of the bells this evening. It seems our father misses us so, having given us the day free. Ready to go, Caranwyn?” The other girl nodded, offering a casual salute to her friends, then made a face of mock sorrow and anguish.
“Tell Allagor and Denith that they are most remiss for failing to mark our birthday, and we are most wounded, haha! We’ll see you tomorrow.” Laughter followed them as the girls darted down the steps back towards their house.

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