Elíasar saga, part 2, LotRiPS WiP

[sarka]

Title: Elíasar saga, or 'The Saga of Elijah', Chapter 2/?
Author: sarka
Rating: This chapter G, later chapters will have higher ratings, for sex and violence.
Pairings: Nothing yet, but will develop into Orlijah.
Warning: None right now, but there will be a character death. This IS a saga, and as such would be impossible without some bloodshed. I do promise not to kill anybody you care about, though.
Disclaime: If they were mine, they'd wear eyeliner at all times.

Summary: A viking AU. Elijah is the Lord of a homestead in newly pioneered Iceland around 900 AD, when his uncle comes home from a voyage bringing treasure, spices and exotic slaves.
Notes: Authors notes are made as they are required, through very interactive footnotes that were a pain to code. A link will take you to the note elsewhere in the document, and a link there will return you to what you were reading.
AN #2: After an extensive beta, this story was updated with minimal changes, on the 3rd of January 2007.

Part I


“He is a good worker, certainly, but far too defiant to be managed properly, sir. He’s not an asset to your work force.”

Elijah sighed and rubbed his brow in frustration. The daily management of the farm was a tricky affair at best, and with the addition of someone as exotic and independent as Orlando, it was nothing short of a nightmare. In a fortnight, Orlando had managed to upset his steward, his foremen, his freemen, his blacksmith and a large number of other people, with rudeness previously unheard of in a slave.

Orlando was proud and downright defiant when it came to people not obviously his superior. In a hierarchy as complicated as the farm of Skógar, these traits tended to have disastrous effects. Elijah feared that one of these days Orlando would offend someone important enough that slaying him on the spot would be justifiable. He had also taken to pretending that he didn’t understand what he was being told, when Elijah suspected that he was getting better at Icelandic every day.

“Sean, is there anywhere we haven’t tried placing him?” Elijah asked his steward in desperation. Despite the headaches that Orlando was creating for him, Elijah was still mesmerized by the young man’s beauty and grace, and the idea of sending him away, or gods forbid, slaying him, was not something he liked to consider.^[1]

“Oh, there’s plenty of places, sir. We haven’t tried giving him to the cleric yet, and he hasn’t been put in the kitchen either. We haven’t given him the job of mucking the dung out of the cowshed, or set him to cleaning stables, or put him upside down in the privy to clean it, begging your pardon, sir. Also, while we’re at it, we might want to give him another sleeping place, sir, since he’s disrupting the sleep for the rest of us.”

“How so? Is he loud in his sleep?”

“No, sir, well, it’s not his fault, that one. The men don’t like him. They’ve taken to saying he’s prettier than any girl, and they will try to see if he will react to them like a girl, too, if you see what I’m saying, sir. From what I can tell, he’s doing an impressive job of defending himself, but it does make quite a bit of noise.”

Elijah was horrified, but tried not to show it in front of his steward. After all, he was the lord of the house, however young, and it was his duty to deal with these things. He knew that if he passed the issue of Orlando on to his stepfather, the results would probably be less than satisfactory – Viggo was fond of heavy handed administration, and Orlando would either end up worked to death or in a position where he would be unable to defend himself from the other men’s jibes and advances.

“Well then. Give him to the stable master, and let him muck out stables, if that’s the only thing we can think of to do with him. As I recall, he has an uncommon good way with horses, he should at least find the placement less...” Elijah thought about what he was going to say and reconsidered.^[2] “And the stable hands sleep in the stables, so unless he has something to fear from Billy or Dominic, which I sincerely doubt, he should be fine. Find another placement for Grímur – he’s as strong as a horse himself, he’s wasted on the stables, now that his cut has healed.” Sean nodded, bowed and left.

His place was taken almost immediately by his stepfather and half-brother, both expressionless but white-knuckled, and Elijah knew that even if Orlando did manage to make trouble in the stables, (not that he thought he would, with Billy as master of horse) he wouldn’t have the time to care about it.^[3]

“Brother,” Karl began, “are you aware that the cattle of Keldur have been grazing on your land?”

Ah, so that was it. The only people in Iceland that could manage to rile up Viggo and Karl to this extent, were the members of the small dynasty of Keldur. Keldur was situated south of Skógar, a small farm that was a perennial thorn in Viggo’s side. Elijah’s father had given the small amount of land to Ian, the head of the Keldur^[4] clan, as “a payment for services rendered”. Ian had been one of his freemen, and had saved his life not once but twice.

“I wasn’t aware that they were outright grazing on my land, no.” He wanted to add ‘are they?’, but that would’ve been an insult to his brother.

“The men took in two of their cattle yesterday. What will you do?”

It wasn’t a question, but a challenge and Elijah hesitated to rise to it. “I will saddle my horse and ride out to see Ian. I will not have any neighbor disputes if I can help it.”

Viggo bristled, but said nothing. In the last few weeks, Elijah had started taking over the daily running of the farm, and it chafed at him to be an advisor, unable to make decisions.

Viggo, Karl, and probably his mother Cate, would’ve loved to have had a little neighborly skirmish with the Keldumenn^[5]. Craig, the youngest of the clan, was an honest man, brave, intelligent and fair, and in addition, Karl’s only present competition for the hand of Miranda.

Elijah, however, found himself unwilling to start violence over a few stalks of grass or a couple of centimeters of shoreline. At first, the rumor in the fjords had been that he was craven, and there were people who would not call him son to his brave father for a while. That had changed just this winter, when a lord in the next fjord had found one of Elijah’s slaves chopping down a bit of firewood in land that belonged to no one but the farmer considered under his jurisdiction, and put the slave to his sword. Elijah had traveled for three days to call out the farmer. The fight had been short, fast and simple. When Elijah traveled home, no one dared call him craven anymore.

*****

Elijah never did get to saddle up his horse and go to talk with Ian, because Craig was standing in his yard just before midday, offering his deepest apologies, but there had been a mud avalanche in the rains last week and parts of the fence that separated the two farms were no more. Three cows had been lost, one was found, had Elijah’s men perchance seen the others, and what could he give Elijah to compensate for the inconvenience?

With minimal interruption from Karl, who leeringly pointed out that he had suspected Keldumenn of intentionally grazing their cattle outside of their own land (which was an insult that could have gotten Karl slain, were Craig a lesser man), Elijah settled for the most simple thing – he’d keep the milk that had been milked in his own cowshed. Hands were shaken, courtesies exchanged and Craig managed to invite Elijah to supper without anybody else noticing before riding off with the two cows.

For the next two weeks, the only two people that spoke at the family table during meals were Liv and Elijah.

*****

For a Lord of his standing, it was remarkable how very little he did simply because he wanted to. Every single day Elijah felt himself getting pulled in ten directions at the same time; he had to oversee something, pick out some animals for sacrifice, speak with an insolent worker or solve a neighbor dispute.

This was the reason he stopped for a while once he reached the edge of the valley which also was the edge of his estate. He felt like those were his last moments of freedom before returning home, where countless things undoubtedly waited for his attention.

He’d been gone for a fortnight. He’d visited relatives and friends, his foster father in Reykir, and caught up with a late summer ship in Vopnafjörður, where he’d stayed two days. The trip had been almost solely business – he needed cows, and he’d jumped on the opportunity to leave someone else in charge for a bit, but Elijah knew his people. Once news of his homecoming had spread, he’d be besieged by people who had waited to bring the issues to him instead of Viggo, by problems at his own farm, and of course, there’d always be the ones coming simply to ask for news.

The fjord was looking spectacular in the near-midnight sun^[6] – the mountains were charcoal against an azure sky, and the stillness of the air had turned the sea into a turquoise blue mirror. The grass was touched with gold in the strangely iridescent light^[7], and every straw cast a shadow twice its length, making the fields seem to shimmer. It was in moments such as this one when Elijah really and truly loved his land and this country, forgetting all about unforgiving winters and long summer days when nothing could be accomplished on account of rain.

The movement he saw out of the corner of his eye was unexpected – the evening was so still and quiet that Elijah had thought himself alone in the world – but when he turned towards the movement he saw that he wasn’t. Orlando was crouching down, in a position of quiet approach, moving slowly and quietly up the hill, his eyes fixed upwards. Elijah shifted his sight, following Orlando’s gaze, and saw the black stallion standing a little way behind him, eyeing the slave nervously, pawing at the ground with his forelegs.

Elijah recognized the stallion straight away. It was one of the most beautiful beasts in the fjord, a gift to himself from Bernard at Fell^[8], along with a not-so-subtle reminder Liv was still unwed, and that she’d be a handsome catch for Bernard’s foster son, David.

The reminder would have worked much better if Elijah held David in any sort of regard. As it was, Elijah missed Bernard’s son Harry, who had been a fine man and friend before he went overseas and never returned. Elijah considered David to be both imperious and mean-spirited. He had no desire to marry Liv to him, but Viggo did, and Elijah did not plan to go against the wishes of the girl’s own father.

The stallion whinnied and brought Elijah’s thoughts back to the present. Orlando was still approaching the horse with near painful slowness, his movements fluid, his eyes fixed on the horse. Elijah wondered how they’d let it escape in the first place – the stallion might be beautiful, but everyone had determined it wild. It had refused every single rider and every single attempt at taming it so far, and if it hadn’t been a gift, Elijah would’ve had it put down by now.

He watched with fascination as Orlando moved towards the horse, whispering softly in a language Elijah didn’t know – the language of Mikligarður probably. He expected the horse to bolt at any moment as Orlando moved closer and closer, whispering all the time. He was surprised, therefore, when Orlando moved the last few steps and put his hand on the flank of the stallion, still whispering something, obviously calming the animal, until the wild horse seemed as docile as the household dogs. Elijah watched, mesmerized, as Orlando gave the horse’s neck a pat, pulled a short rope out of his sleeve and rigged up an impromptu halter, which the horse seemed quite content to accept.

Elijah was intrigued. He’d seen men good with horses before, but those times had seemed to revolve more about the battle of wills between a man and beast, rather than the simple calming of a frightened animal, or an attempt at gaining trust. He didn’t dare make a sound for fear of spooking the horse – he wanted to speak to Orlando and the last thing he wanted was to have to send the young slave to hunt for it again.

Orlando seemed still to be calming the horse, trying to get it used to the halter, but when he at last turned around and saw Elijah, Elijah feared that his staying still for all this time would be for naught, Orlando gave such a start. He’d obviously done a good job on the horse, though, because it barely batted an eye.

“I’m impressed” Elijah said softly. “I was told that this horse couldn’t be tamed.”

Orlando looked at him and seemed to be sizing him up before he let out a huff of air and answered in accented but otherwise near perfect Icelandic; “There isn’t a horse in the world that can’t be tamed. Sir.” He added the last word as an afterthought, and Elijah fought down a grin. There wasn’t a person in the world that wouldn’t warm to his two stable masters, either. Dom and Billy had been working on the farm for a long time, and Elijah was willing to lay bets that they were the reason for Orlando’s improved language – and courtesy.

“How did he get out, anyway?” Elijah asked. The wild stallions were usually kept in a fence a little south of Skógar.

Color stained Orlando’s cheekbones, but he held his head up high. “He had a fight with another horse this week, sir. We had to take him to the stables to heal him – I let him out to run today and he jumped a fence.”

Suddenly the reason for Orlando’s night-time wandering became clear to Elijah; he hadn’t told anybody the horse was missing, instead opting to trust his abilities to find it once he’d finished with his day duties, hoping that he’d be able to simply put it back in the fence once he’d captured it. Elijah had to strain not to laugh out loud, and his voice sounded it when he replied; “Well, the important thing is that it’s been found.”

Orlando looked at him nervously, and Elijah decided that the best course of action was to change the subject. “So, do you think it can be tamed?” Orlando nodded, saying; “Yes, sir, when he is trained, I think he’ll be a very good horse.”

Elijah considered that for a moment, before making a decision. “So, will you help me with that tomorrow? You have a very good... method that I’m interested in seeing more of.”

Orlando flushed, not knowing whether to take that as a compliment, but obviously feeling pleased all the same. “Of course, sir. I will just take him back to the fence tonight.” He moved to walk away, but before he could, Elijah easily replied. “I’ll accompany you. I want to see the horses anyway.”

They walked on in silence, Elijah leading his horse to be at an even pace with Orlando who was concentrating on the stallion. Once they reached the fence and let it in, they stopped a while, Orlando pointing out the horses to Elijah, commenting on this spring’s colts with remarkable clarity for someone who had only a limited amount of words with which to express himself.

After a short silence following a discussion of how to train the stallion, Orlando suddenly turned to Elijah and said seriously: “That stallion has never had a name, sir. You must name it before you start tomorrow. It needs a name.” Elijah thought about that for a while, then asked; “What do you call it? In your language, when you were speaking with it earlier? You were speaking with it, weren’t you?” Orlando looked surprised, but easily replied; “I call it…” he seemed to think furiously for a few moments, “Skuggi^[9]. That’s what I call him, but in my language.”

The name was apt – the stallion was black as midnight, and besides, Elijah thought that Orlando at least deserved that the horse keep the name he’d given to it. “Skuggi it is, then,” he said and smiled.

*****

The next few days were near-magical to Elijah and anybody else who had any interest in the taming of horses. Orlando had quietly insisted that such a strong-willed horse should not be tamed to be ridden by just anyone, meaning that Elijah was as much a required component of the taming process as the horse itself. Most of what Orlando did seemed strange to the men and to Elijah, as he spent very little time taming the horse, and far more time trying to tame the rider. Most of what he did, though, seemed to revolve around getting Elijah and Skuggi familiar with each other, turning the taming of Skuggi into a bit of a spectacle that became a topic of conversation among the men of Skógar. How did it work? Would it succeed? Did you see when he made the horse lie down on its side and had the Lord of the house lie down next to it?

Elijah took quite a bit of friendly ribbing from his foster father and brother over this unconventional method of taming a stallion, but one night over dinner he received some help from an unexpected quarter.

“I like it,” Liv quietly announced. “It doesn’t seem so harsh like the normal methods. Most of the time I see men riding I wonder why the horses don’t rebel and throw them off, the way they’re treated. I like that it can be done with respect.”

And it could indeed be done, as was proved the very next morning when Elijah successfully rode Skuggi for the first time without any trouble at all. Orlando, however, insisted that this did not mean that the horse was fully tamed, and kept both horse and rider in rigorous training for a few more weeks before he was satisfied with the results. By then, most everybody had noticed that the results weren’t just good – they were spectacular, and any amusement the men had gained from Orlando’s unusual methods had slowly died down in the face of the fact that Elijah was now in possession of a stallion that could seemingly read his mind.

Elijah, for his part, was pleased with all the results of the exercise. Not only had they succeeded in what they had set out to do, but Orlando had gained grudging respect of the men as well.

He was, however, less pleased with the fact that without the taming sessions, he’d lost the most enjoyable part of his day.

---

Go on to Part III (scroll up for some extensive author notes on Elijah's family)

---

[1]Besides which, that would be unspeakably rude towards Sean. Someone else does it, Elijah can ruffle his feathers and talk about noble gifts which would nearly double Orlando’s monetary value – but he can’t do it himself.

[2]Favouritism was a big NO-NO. He’s speaking to Sean, who is a freeman, but still has to do as his Lord bids without consideration for his own comfort – Elijah wondering about Orlando’s comfort would make him an inept leader.

[3]“White-knuckled” being the key descriptive word in that sentence. Man, I love Icelandic literature subtext :D

[4]Okay, I’m putting this here because this is the first time I’ve mentioned who owns Keldur. Keldur means “spring” as in a spring of water. In Scandinavian and Germanic languages, the word for a spring is “Quelle” or “Kelle”. I don’t know if this has anything to do with “Kellen” as in “Ian McKellen” but I found it likely, and besides, it’s one of those names that doesn’t have an obvious meaning.

[5]The addition of “menn” to anything quite obviously means “men”. Ergo: Keldumenn = men of Keldur, Skógamenn = men of Skógar.

[6]Iceland is almost at the Arctic circle. This leads to long long days in summer, the sun not dipping completely behind the horizon in midsummer, and short, dark days in winter, with a maximum of 2 hours of light. This will also play into the story once winter arrives, as in the middle of winter, the sun is so low in the sky that in the fjords it never makes it over the top of the mountains. The people in the fjords therefore don’t see the sun all through midwinter.

[7]You need to come to Iceland and see the light to believe it.

[8]Fell simply means ‘Hill’. Also; Fellamenn = The men of Hill.

[9]Skuggi simply means ‘Shadow’.


Part III (scroll up for some extensive author notes on Elijah's family.

Comments

[katze-boston.livejournal.com]

This is amazing. A story that teaches as much as it entertains. I'm quite intrigued and impressed.

[sarka.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much! I'm glad you're enjoying it :)

[talesinbloom.livejournal.com]

I simply and utterly love this world. I'd love to see it firsthand, but you do such a wonderful job of writing it, that it feels like I'm there.

With the strict codes of conduct between servant and lord, I'm so very curious to see how Orlando and Elijah's relationship evolves.

Are you writing this as you go along? Or do you already have it mostly (or completely) written and are spacing out the postings? It's so rich in detail and history. :)

*loves*

i keep forgetting you're 'sarka' omg! *g* i got so used to associating that name with you. isn't it funny, how we attach the name to a certain journal, or person, and get confused? ;)

[sarka.livejournal.com]

I'd love to see it firsthand

Heh, you ever want to come, just give a holler. I'd be happy to have you visit ;)

When it comes to writing this - well, I am a fickle personality, so with multichapters, I usually will not allow myself to start posting the first few chapters unless I'm confident that I actually can follow through. So, there exist four complete chapters of this fic, but I'm still writing, and I don't see the ending yet.

I've gone a long way from the time I started writing, but one of my main faults tended to be a wild descent into non-relevant details, so getting compliments on my level of details and history is especially near and dear to my heart... and I love history and the sagas. Obviously it helps that I'm writing in my own country, though...

i keep forgetting you're 'sarka' omg!

Yeah, I know... back when I started LotRiPSing, way back, I had some friends on my friendslist who I feared would not be open to the concept of RPS so I created a relatively new and anonymous journal on which to operate. The anonymity was fun for a time, but I got tired of checking double friendslists and stuff... do you think it would help if I started using the default icon I had as Sarka?

[layne67.livejournal.com]

Orlando the horse-whisperer. How very romantic *sighs* I really do hope that you'll continue with this because once it's finished I want to print and bind it. Thank you for writing and sharing.

*friends*

[sarka.livejournal.com]

once it's finished I want to print and bind it

OMG. *feels like a BNF*

Thanks for the compliments :)

*friends back*

[layne67.livejournal.com]

BNF? Sorry but what's that?

[sarka.livejournal.com]

Heh, it's a concept that is at least used a lot in my "home" fandom, Harry Potter, it stands for Big Name Fan, someone who's well known in the fandom and has a lot of people comment every time they post... If we take the LotRiPS fandom for example, I'd say that abundantlyqueer and possibly deleerium are BNF's - though in HP, a lot of nastiness has become associated with the term, and they are both exceptionally nice people...

Anyway, BNF's often became BNF's because they posted long multichaptered fics that were generally well liked, and loads of people printed them out and bound them... that's why I made the comment :D It's really flattering to know that someone likes the story enough to do that...

[montmorency.livejournal.com]

Wonderful, once again. I love the final line, too. That's the most enjoyable part of OUR day as well. ;)

Looking forward to more with much impatience.

[sarka.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the compliment :)

That's the most enjoyable part of OUR day as well

The most enjoyable part of my day is getting these comments :D Thanks for letting me know you enjoy it...

[sadasi.livejournal.com]

It's not often that I find myself really enjoying a fanfic for the story itself, not just the characters, but I am really loving this. It's so vivid in its imagery and the tone is... I don't know, soothing? It's hard to describe. It makes me think of the CDs of soft music and nature sounds my mother plays to relax. Beautiful. Completely, utterly beautiful.
I love the back story, the details of the culture and customs. I was very big on various mythologies a while back, including Norse, and I find myself nodding at points thinking "Oh yes, of course."

One question: I was intrigued by the foster-fathers, many cultures have practices of fostering out children to other homes like the squiring in Old England, and I was trying to figure out if that's what this was. However comparing the two chapters, I'm now a little confused.
Chap1:"Viggo, his foster father"
Chap2:"He’d visited... his foster father in Reykir", which seems to be a different person if he's coming back to Viggo. Isn't Viggo rather his step-father? (married to Elijah's mother.)

I am definitely bookmarking this and I look forward to more!

[sarka.livejournal.com]

You're right! I need to go back and change that... The fact is that anything before the middle of this chapter was written a LONG, LONG time ago (I think I started writing at around Christmastime 2004), and I sort of have a hard time reading it, because I'm so... saturated? Anyway, I don't see anything in the text anymore, because I was so frustrated with this fic and kept trying and trying - I've been writersblocked for a while until now... anyway, thanks for pointing it out!

Anyway, yes, the intention is that Viggo is Elijah's step-father, and he has a fosterfather where he was fostered for a period as a boy (along with Harry, but I'm not sure that's ever going to become relevant in the story...)

But I am glad that you're enjoying the story, and thanks for the compliments! I'm glad that you enjoy the backstory as well... because this plotbunny wasn't the storyline itself but the backstory and the setting - unusual way to get a story idea...

[fyrefly101.livejournal.com]

You have footnotes. For no other reason than this, I would love the fic, and you. But the story itself is beautiful - the Icelandic settings and all that I get to learn about it, the characterisation of Elijah, and the depiction of Orlando as... I don't know how I want to put it. He's intriguing - where does he come from, why doesn't he have the behaviour of a normal servant? And at the same time, he has the confidence and calm, and MYSTERY of his horse skills. He's like a shadow person - I picture him in my mind really dark, in comparison not just to ELijah but the whole Viking setting, which is bright and white and blinding.

Hmm. I think that comment got a little lost inside itself, but I did really just want to say I'm really loving this. Like someone else said, it feels like a 'print out, bind and keep' kind of story.

[sarka.livejournal.com]

Oh, I'm so glad the footnotes are a hit, because I was thinking people would go: "Footnotes? WTF is this???" But I couldn't do the story the way it wants to be done without the footnotes.

Heh, there will be more information about Orlando forthcoming in chapter... oh, I don't know, I don't write in chapters. It's what I'm writing right now.

Oh, this makes me all giddy :D

[http://users.livejournal.com/tweedle_/]

Mmmm...horse-whispering Orli and Orli-whispering Elijah...nice.

I love the description of the formalities and rules that made society work, (Sucker for that - Pride and Prejudice is a fav book) and particularly that Elijah tends to take the moral high road. Am pretty sure Orli likes this as well. :D

[sarka.livejournal.com]

Heheh, Pride and Prejudice is one of my favourites as well - and one of the first 'real' books I actually stuck to reading in English rather than in translation. ('Real' book, as opposed to the Harlequin stuff that I was reading in order to improve my English at the time...)

Anyway, taking the moral highroad in this story can have... let's say interesting... results :)

[cupidsbow.livejournal.com]

Very enjoyable. I like how this is developing. Thank you.

[sarka.livejournal.com]

Thanks for the comment - I hope it keeps being enjoyable :)

[ph34rmoi.livejournal.com]

*flails* I LOVE this story. I really, really like how you really know your stuff, and that you're not making it up as you go along, or something. 'Sides, I get to learn new stuff, too. =D

Eeee, so adorable. =) Very glad that everyone's finally coming 'round and accepting Orli.

[elethae.livejournal.com]

Hey. Am very much enjoying this story. Like the links to history and the characters seem realistic. Hope you update soon again. :)

[suzy-74.livejournal.com]

Oh my goodness. It seems I haven't left a comment. I'm very sorry. I could swear I did. :/

I'm loving this very much!!1 :D

Elijah desperately trying to fit in Orlando somewhere. Of course he can't "get rid" of him. A difficult slave maybe but he's got something. His proud and knows his own worth. I'm glad Elijah can feel that too. At least I think he can feel that and it's not just that he smitten by him. Of course he don't know that yet either, does he? Just that he can't be without him.

Aw, and the training of the horse.

Wonderful. Thank you.

[mintcloud.livejournal.com]

Horse!porn. History!porn. Viking!porn. Good lord. You had better finish this, because if you don't, I will pitch a fit the likes of which has not been seen since a little scuffle known as the Hundred Years' War.

[http://users.livejournal.com/tweedle_/]

They are such a touchy lot these Icelanders! *g* It reminds me of certain cultures now. Always having to save face. How exhausting! I love how Orlando is just a shadow so far. I don't blame Elijah for his fasination in him one little bit.

I do want to see that quality of light you describe so beautifully. :)