((OOC: Cue a million "WHAT? Daer is a dark being?" comments. No, of course not! ;) I am rather making three alternate future stories for my enjoyment and others. I wanted to let others see how Daerundros would be in these alternate timelines, and how it affects her being. So all in all, you're getting a taste of what Daerundros could become in the future. Note the "Could" :P Also, I hope you don't think of Daerundros as a fanatic girl once you read this story. She makes this decision on her own in this alternate future, without any words or consulation from Minyelaire. The piece of music is composed by Samie Agam. No copyright intended, and I only use this music for private non-profit purposes.))
Fourth Age 59, Far Harad
Two moving shapes could be seen among the never-endless sands of Harad, relentlessly walking among the vast wide desert, conversing loosely with one another. At first glance they appear to be Haradrim, but once one took notice of their pointed ears, they know it is not so. They were slender, and agile, and odd-looking. They were Elves... but whence came they from?
The two Elves were talking to another in a hoarse Avarin, that which was spoken among the Kinn-lai. One of them had pale white-blond hair, a scar running from one side of her face, over the bridge of her nose, clothed in red and black. She had yellowish eyes that hinted at a fierce and proud personality. The other had black hair kept short, a similar scar running from one side of her face to the other, dressed in some pale red and yellow garb. Her eyes were a calm Sea-blue, faded to a sinister black for some unknown reason, but they looked as equally fierce as the other woman's. Both of them carried spears of Elvish make, apparently hunting for some unknown prey.
These two Elvish women were Minyelaírë and Daerundros.
"Do you see any prey, sister?" Daerundros asked, her fierce eyes peering about for any sign of men. She shook her spear loosely in her hand. The winds of the desert whipped strongly, and they had to close their eyes for a moment as a few specks of sand hit their faces.
"In this terrible windstorm, I cannot fathom anything." Minyelaire scowled, irritated by the sand. The two women marched through the storm, sheltering by an oasis as they watched the sandstorm move away from them, further to the deserts of Harad. Daerundros picked a few fruits from the various bushes, while Minyelaire peered down at the small lake of fresh water, examining her reflection.
"Sister..." She said quietly, "What do you think of this lifestyle... living like me."
Daerundros snorted; She had heard this discussion too many times, "I have told you, I chose this of my own accord."
"But--" Suddenly Daerundros held up her index finger to her mouth, gesturing for Minyelaire to keep quiet. Two voices could be heard among the winds, talking to each other, arguing. One voice was low, and hoarse, it's tone stern and cruel, while the other was more innocent, high-pitched and terrified.
"You filthy brat!" The lower voice said in the language of the Haradrim. The sound of a whip cracking could be heard, and the other voiced cried in pain.
"No! No! Stop it!" The other voice yelled, obviously frightened, "Please!"
"How dare you insult your master, yell at him?!" The other voice said. Another whip cracking.
The two women cautiously hid in the bushes, observing as a gruff Haradrim stomped over to the oasis, his long beard flowing to his hip. He wore a bandanna and face-veil, obscuring most of his features, but his cruel, black eyes glimmered as he brandished a whip at a small boy, no more older than twelve.
The sight sickened both women, even Minyelaire, as they watched the boy get beaten. Suddenly, the Man grabbed the Boy's arm, and thrust his head into the water, attempting to drown the poor soul.
"Minyelaire! We must do something!" Daerundros hissed. Swiftly, the two women covered their ears and their hair with their Bandannas and face veils, and stood up and moved away from their bush.
"Halt." They said in unison. The man jumped up and stopped attempting to drown the boy, who was released and now sitting down, holding his throat and massaging his ribs, gulping for air.
"Eh? What's this now?" He said gruffly. He drew the scimitar he was holding, eyeing the two figures warily.
"Let this boy go." Daerundros said threateningly. The boy looked up in wonder at the two slender figures, wondering, who, or what they were.
"And what now, going to kill me for punishing my own slave?" The man snorted.
"He does not belong to you..." Minyelaire said fiercely. She drew her spear, and Daerundros followed suit.
"Pah!" The man spit on the ground, yet he charged at the women with his long scimitar, rather recklessly. Minyelaírë and Daerundros merely evaded the attempt, Daerundros sticking her foot out and making him fall and trip, vulnerable on the ground.
"Dost thou think that you would own this boy?" Minyelaírë hissed, hers and Daerundros' spear close to the man. However, the man nodded, laughing, before he rolled over and attempted to chop the spearheads off their spears with his scimitar.
"Pitiful..." Daerundros whispered, as she merely let the spear clash. It did not break, and instead, Daerundros gave a powerful push to the spear, and the scimitar was dropped. Whirling around and spotting two accomplices, she hissed.
"So you are not merely here to punish this boy." Daerundros said.
"Fool." Minyelaírë grinned. Whirling around, both sister moved akin to one another, ducking a scimitar's sword slash and then stabbing the accomplices from behind. As they looked towards the man, he was already fleeing the oasis. Nodding to each other, both women fired an arrow. Daerundros' pierced the man's back, while Minyelaírë's missed. He fell to the ground, dead.
"Ha!" Daerundros chuckled. Minyelaírë grunted. She did not like losing to Daerundros at all, but shrugged and pointed to the boy, who was breathing shallowly and observing them suspiciously, before he spoke slowly, with uncertainity in his voice.
"Are you going to kill me?" He said.
Daerundros chuckled, taking off her veil and bandanna. The boy gasped and watched, realizing he was standing before Elves. He observed the pointed ears for a while, before gulping.
"No child, you are safe with us." Minyelaire assuringly patted the boy's shoulder. She slowly offered him some fruit. Fearlessly, the boy stood up,
"I am Mehmet Harari Mulafi." He said, "I was sold by my mother, Ahli Harari Mulafi, to the slave market and to a cruel man named Johavi Fallali Marosha."
After a night spent in the jungles of Harad talking and tending to the boy, Mehmet slowly went to sleep, his head resting on Daerundros' lap his whip marks fading away slowly. Daerundros sighed and patted the boys stray hair neatly, "I wish we could let him accompany us."
"Absolutely not," Minyelaire said, her eyes cold, "We shall drop him off into the next time and go."
Daerundros nodded, worrying for the child's future. She could only hope that he would have a better life in the next Haradrim town. She sighed. Old habits die hard. There was still a bit of Noldo in her. Suddenly, Minyelaire stiffened, looking at something unknown, and Daerundros peered at what Minyelaire was looking at to see why she froze. Slowly Minyelaire spoke, in a hoarse voice.
"Do you hear it, sister?" Minyelaire said.
"Hear what?"
"The sea..."
"The sea...?" Daerundros looked at Minyelaire in bewilderment, before she understood what she meant, "Yes, I hear it. I think... it is calling to us."
"No, It calls to you."
"Of course not, you are also an Elf. If you could not hear the sea calling to you then you would not be asking me if I heard it as well!"
Minyelaire snorted, but her expression became blank, "If we set sail..."
"I do not know, sister. The last ship has already gone." Daerundros said sadly.
"If we built a ship ourselves..."
"That is beyond my skill. And we are already mortal, we cannot set foot on Valinor."
Minyelaire sighed, defeated, "One never knows..."
However, Daerundros looked west, in the direction of the sea. Although it was blocked by masses of trees, she could have sworn, that she, for a moment, could see a very distant island, covered by fog.
"Perhaps not all is lost yet..." Daerundros said quietly. She and Minyelaire gazed at the distant Island, before it faded into the fog, like a bird flying away from the reaches of Middle-earth.
((OOC: I have yet to decide what happens next, first I have to ask Minye on her opinion of the story! ^^))
