OOC note: this is a rewrite of a previously written story to more accurately represent events from the RP that happened
“Investigate, lass. Earn their trust and figure out what’s going on. I cannot tell if they’re an aid or wolves masquerading as sheep.”
That’s what Saeradan had told her, two weeks ago. Now here she was in a small village, on another mission of aid bringing food to these folks. Those she’d talked with knew her by name now and word had gotten around that she was a runaway Ranger cadet seeking a missing friend.
With a sigh, Enniliel heaved another sack of grain onto the cart, then stepped back, dusting off her hands. Around her, a variety of others worked in the small outcropping of houses. But her attention was primarily on the leader as he stood and watched the workers.
There was good being done here, and she found herself intrigued by this Order. But something seemed off. The leader was too smooth-talking and arrogant, and something sinister lurked in those eyes.
He was watching her, and she quickly looked away. He had been keeping an eye on her more often of late. Not so much in a suspicious way, more like he had some designs on her. It made her nervous, but that was what she wanted -- to be let into this mystery.
When the cart was finally loaded, she turned towards the house, but he had disappeared inside. Her chest tight with anxiety, she approached the house. The door creaked as she shut it behind her.
“Just a moment!" The man’s voice called out from a back room.
Enniliel glanced around the small room, finally settling on one of the stools near the fire. Her back was faced towards the corner, letting her see the whole room. Strange tapestries were on some of the walls, and for all the poor exterior, the interior felt almost rich. Strangely, an owl sat in one corner.
The young leader entered the room, wiping off his hands on a towel. The echo of his footsteps felt ominous.
Enniliel jumped up, feigning innocent nervousness -- not completely an act. "Hi, I'm sorry to intrude... I, uh, had a question I, uh, wished to speak to you about."
"Miss Enniliel, nice to see you again. Do not stand on my accord, take a seat, have an ale. What is on your mind?”
“Um…” She fidgeted a bit. “Do you have any coffee?” Even playing a role,coffee was the only real drink worth drinking. “And, well, I’m looking for my friend… I thought you may have seen him in the region?”
The man shook his head, somewhat insistently offering her mead. “No, no coffee, but mead’ll do, yeah? What’s your friend’s name?”
Enni grimaced. “Can I maybe have water instead?”
Frowning, he put the mead in front of her anyway, going on some long rant about how water isn’t safe to drink. Like he hadn’t heard of boiling and filtering… probably wanted to get her tongue loosened. She didn’t touch the drink but responded to the second question instead.
“His name is Beriion, he's a few years older than me and one of the Dunedain of the North." A cadet, who disappeared from Evendim some years back, the young man of that name had taken up with this group according to Saeradan’s research, and later vanished from records entirely. “I don't know many specifics... I know he's been back and forth to Imladris on occasion. I had hoped I could get him to take me there eventually." She laughed a little, and couldn’t prevent herself from blushing a tiny bit. Though the blush came from her embarrassed memories of Elves, it fit the narrative she portrayed.
He stared at her intently, as if seeking to read her mind through her eyes. "Was he related to you, or were you both just in love?"
She stammered a bit “Um… I…” How was one to respond to that when she’d never actually been in love?
The man gave her a sympathetic look and stepped away for a moment, returning with a parcel. “Open it. He fell, but he was brave. I’m sorry.”
Inside was a cloak with their emblems. So the lad had fallen -- or been killed. She closed her eyes, and felt a tear slip down her cheek. Whatever he’d been fighting for or against, losing one of the Dunedan was a blow.
He continued. “I am the right hand of the Order. We are trying to do good, but must remain in hiding. We are hunted by evil.”
The claim seemed odd, and she could not shake a feeling of being probed for weakness, but she waited to hear what else he would say.
“There is evil your mind cannot even comprehend.”
Definitely a bit of a stretch, but then, not everyone spent their free time studying ancient history and the evils of Numenor and the Deceiver.
“What can I do to help?” This was it! A chance to get on the inside! “I can fight, I can hunt, I can move quietly. I am trained with the bow and knife, and a little bit with the sword. All the skills of a good Ranger, I can do it.”
He studied her and was about to say more, when a board creaked and another figure entered the room.
An older man stood there, his face scarred and hideous.
“Ah, young one. We have been watching you for some time, and you would make a grand addition to our little organization. I have a great task for you”
“Uh... greetings... sir..."
The two men exchanged glances before the older finally nodded. "She'd… She'd be good."'
A pressure on her shoulder alerted her to the hand of another behind her. "Kneel, girl."'
Enniliel took a small step back. "Um... what?"
The leader glowered at her. "I will not ask again. What I am about to bestow upon you is a gift and a curse. I am inviting you into our Order, and it is not yours to reject such a gift.”
She frowned, pulling away from the hand on her shoulder. “You're not gonna tell me more about what I'm getting myself into?”
“You’ve aided us and sought to know more, yet you will not do such an easy task as to kneel? If I wished to kill you, girl, I'd have done it when you sat in your chair.”
She pressed her lips tight together and knelt, her fingers touching the blade in her sleeve and finding comfort there.
Enni took their oath, though she crossed her fingers as she promised to be a guardian and protector and light and other vague but noble-sounding things.
The old man looked satisfied and nodded to the man she’d thought was the leader. “He has taken the place of the Head. He will be training to take my position over. You will serve me, until I have passed on the crown to him. Then, you shall serve him as you have served me. I will take you as my apprentice. You will be the hand of light.”
Noble-sounding words, but there remained a tightness in her stomach.
The next few weeks were spent in training, fighting and grappling mostly. She was not allowed to leave their little complex. In fact, they’d blindfolded her on the way in, telling her she could not know their secrets until her training was complete.
When she did get to go out, it was always under the supervision of the head-in-training. He flirted with her and teased her. It frustrated her, both because she chafed at their restrictions and because she had to admit she enjoyed it a bit.
Yet he also took away her coffee and refused to let her have any. Made her wake up early, and no coffee! Made her take late watches, and still no coffee! Even at the few taverns she was taken to -- blindfolded until on well known paths -- she was told to order mead, no coffee. She was about ready to give up her right arm even for Butterbur’s weak and nasty coffee.
But as she ‘behaved’, she was given more freedoms. And one night, when the two in charge were out on some mission, she snuck into the office.
A few deft moves with her thin blade opened the lock on the old oak desk. Papers were inside. Records, names. A journal, even. She flipped through, skimming it, and her heart turned icy with fear. She was not the first young woman to be inducted by this head-in-training, and those before her had left, disappeared. The records also seemed strange, and looking through the numbers, she realized many donations from benefactors and the villages were going to a separate ledger, rather than to providing for villages in need.
And there was a deed, to a Rohan estate.
Fleecing good folk to get the money for a mansion. She felt her face turn dark with rage.
Carefully, she took fresh paper and made copies with charcoal rubbing of the ledgers, then returned to her room to plan her next steps.
A few days had passed, and she was taken out again, this time to Combe, for raising money and funds to “help the poor”.
This time, she was prepared. This time, she picked at the edges of her cloak, dropping small threads to track the blindfolded path.
When he removed her blindfold, she asked in as innocent a voice as she could, “Were there any you trained for this position before me?”
His face darkened. “One. But she betrayed me and abandoned our cause, even spreading lies about me. Do not seek her out.”
“What happened?”
But he shook his head and didn’t answer, staying silent the rest of the trip.
That night she snuck out.
She’d found the girl’s name from that journal, unknown to him. She knew the names of most of Bree’s families, unknown to him. And so she found the lass’s house, unknown to him.
An older woman, perhaps in her mid-forties, answered. “What’re ye doing out in th’ night like this? What d’ye want with us?” Then she saw the emblem on Enni’s cloak and her eyes widened. “Ye leave us alone!”
She went to slam the door but Enni stopped her. “Please… I just want to know.. There are things that don’t add up.”
The woman peered at her intently for a moment, then sighed. “Fine. Come in an’ I’ll brew ye some tea.”
“Um… have you any coffee, perchance?”
“Like I can afford that! Ye want answers, ye come in an’ sit down an’ drink tea.”
It had been worth a shot.
She sat at the table, lit by one lamp, as the woman poured the tea. “Now my lass, she loves t’ help folk an’ has a good heart. That lad, whatever he’s callin’ himself now, offered a way t’ do that an’ she was real excited. She seemed happy, though I never did trust that lad.”
The mother sat at the table and took her tea mug in her hands. “He tried t’ take advantage o’ her, an’ even though she resisted him, I advised her t’ leave and get out. But he tried t’ get her to run away. Nearly worked, too. He’d made her think she didn’t have worth outside o’ his ‘doin’ good’. An’ then when she had her own opinions about how t’ do things, he left her. Threw her out an’ left her heartbroken back on th’ doorstep.”
Enni’s eyes were wide as she sipped her tea. “I… had no idea.”
“Aye, an’ that’s th’ way o’ such folk. Ye best get out now if ye want t’ stay safe. Stay here, tonight, lass, an we’ll get ye home safe in th’ morning.”
Enni accepted the offer, and headed for Saeradan’s hut before dawn, leaving a note for the woman explaining who she really was and where to find her.
______________
Unfortunately, by the time she had led Saeradan to the cult’s estate, it was empty. All that was left was a note for her, telling her how disappointed they were in her and that she had betrayed and hurt them. Even though she knew it was a lie, it stung.
They visited the village the Order had focused on, but it was empty of any but those who belonged there.
“They promised they’d make us heroes, help against evil,” one old lady said, her voice quavering. “But they just kept sending our young men Eru-knows-where, and taking our money to ‘help’ others. Made us swear secrecy an’ all that. We thought we were doing good, but… they just left us.”
Saeradan placed a comforting hand on the woman’s shoulder. “It will be alright, madam. I have friends in Bree. Such people as this prey on the good-hearted, but there are still those who will help you, trustworthy folk.”
He and Enniliel exchanged glances, but she looked away, feeling sick. If only I had realized their twisted methods sooner… I could have helped them more.
But after they had gotten the small caravan of near-destitute folk headed back to Bree, he pulled her aside. “There will always be those who prey on the innocent. You cannot always tell who they are at first, and they disguise themselves as bringers of light. But we can continue to help those in need and fight such evil where we find it. You did well, Enniliel, and we shall be ready if they return.”
