Over the Mountains, Into the Fire

 

~~~Hey! I’m taking a new step in fanfiction and writing a LotR fic. I’ve written before, but never one such as this. This is not a Mary –Sue. I don’t think. If you’ve read my works before, you’ll know they’re ALL very original. All the same, Reviews would be an excellent means of moral support

                                                Rix13rix@aol.com

~Rated: R (to be on the safer side) adult situations, violence, and possible innuendo

~I DO NOT BELIEVE IN DISCLAIMERS

 

~~~There is a rather long lead-in I’m afraid I got carried away… dear me. NM. Here’s the fic, read on and enjoy! ~~~

 

Chapter One: Invasion of Mists

 

            *The cold gray morning dawned upon the forest. The woods were entangled in an unholy mist that wove its way through the numerous lush trees and other vegetation. No birds sang, no crickets chirped. This forest was not one of the three major ones known to man, no. It was a forest long since lost and dead from all memory of humans and dwarves, the Forest of Haze. Only the elves still told tales of such a place, and though they had once been based upon truth, the truth had been lost through the ages to the embellishment of fanciful fairytales.

            Such fairytales were composed of stories of a dying city of elves. The elves that had once been rumored to have lived in the woods had become mere legends, myths that children imagined and oral traditionalists described in vague detail. Still, with all of the fictional tales that circulated, the elves of the forest itself had no knowledge that they had dropped out of being with the rest of Middle-Earth.

            Every morning, from dawn until dusk was the same for each and every elf that resided in the lost forest. They woke with the crisp dawn. They worked through the mid-day, never stopping for a meal until after the sun had dropped off the cliff of the endless expanse of the horizon. After a meager supper, the elves would put out their tiny fires, wish each other a good night, and sleep through the darkness of the night until they had to rise the next morning. It was a lifestyle of pitiful existence. A race and city on the verge of complete isolation, destruction, and downfall. They scavenged for their food, never having the time to truly rediscover their culture of arts, crafts, and musics. And still the people remained blissfully ignorant of their suffering, having never remembering a time when they had not lived the same.

            And it was upon this scene day after day that the King of the Forest of Haze smirked and relaxed. He was a well-defined man, definitely an intimidating figure when he wished to be so. Silky black hair fell over his eyes. Bright green eyes that always hinted annoyance or anger, and his build was strong for that of an elf. He had never been fluid or graceful, but when needed, his strength could make up for that flaw.

            As he strode through the halls of his magnificent palace, he admired the finery that he had. He always did. It made him feel important. But now he did not think of all tat he owned. His mind had traveled to the business errand he was running. Yes, an actual business errand. He chuckled at the thought. He had to do everything in this forsaken city, what with all of the incompetent fools that tried to help and usually screwed up. Entering the darkened room, he hissed.

He hated the dark. All elves hated the dark, of course. He just happened to be more sensitive than most. It was a family trait, he assumed. His dear, sweet, and innocent twin sister had much the same affliction. His smirk returned at that thought. Moving to the iron barred door, he peeked through. A beautiful woman sat perched on a thin bed. Long golden hair spun in waves down her shoulders to her waist. Bright blue eyes with tiny golden flecks animated her ghostly pale face, and a thin and tiny frame suggested lack of proper nutrition. Still, defiance burned in her eyes.

“Come now, sweet sister. Why scowl at me, your dear twin brother?” He sneered.

“Nero.” A flat and even voice echoed through the empty dungeon.

“It can’t be quite so bad in there. And besides, I could never really let you out, you do understand, do you not?”

“You can’t can you?” The woman in the cell played along. She knew this game well- it seemed she had gone through this routinely.

“Of course not!” Nero looked horrified. “If I did, imagine my people’s shock to find out that their long lost Queen, my dearly loved twin sister had returned. They would not be able to handle the truth I fear.” Nero explained as if he spoke to a babe who would not understand the full implications of the situation.

“Dear twin brother. What they would not be able to handle would be the knowledge that you are holding them down, oppressing them. There is more out in this world than our forest of haze and mist. You and I know that. Why not share that with them?”

“Outsiders are not welcome in the city. But then, you knew that already, didn’t you, Serein.”

“What I know is that you are injuring our already damaged home farther. We are the oldest and wisest elves in the entire forest. Why not work to together, use our knowledge to rebuild what the evilness of Sauron and his orcs destroyed?”

“Because then I would not have has much fun as I do now, tormenting you.”

“Nero! You bring shame to our forest, our regime, our lifestyle, and our race!”

“Hold your tongue before I have one of my guards cut it from your mouth. Traitorous little wench. You conspired against me before, and I had to throw you into prison. I will not make the same mistake twice… nor will I tolerate your mouth.” Nero, in a loud rage, turned on his heel. How dare that brat of his sister speak to him with such insubordination! Well. He would break her eventually. Apparently nearly three thousand years in that prison cell had done her no good. Just then an elf, one of his incompetent servants, ran up to him.

“Yes?” He snapped. His sister had put him in a horrible mood.

“My Lord Nero, I bring news from the master huntsman. It seems there were sightings of strange creatures never seen in the forest.”

“Do I can of strange creatures in the forest? It is a forest, probably nothing more than shadows haunt it.” Nero laughed heartily.

“Sir, the master huntsman is convinced what he saw was one of legendary orcs.” The messenger elf gulped quietly after he relayed his message. Just the mere mention of the creatures was enough to through any elves into a slight panic. Orcs were the epitome of evil in the elfish mind; and if the orcs had returned to the Forest of Haze, it could mean nothing well for their city. Or their future.

“Orcs?” Nero spoke more thoughtfully this time. A side smile appeared and the messenger elf knew no good would come from the next words spoken. “Orcs. And how would our master huntsman know what an orc looks like? He was not around for the first invasion of Sauron. Only my lost sister and I were alive for that. Therefore, return the message to the huntsman that he is indeed mad in the head. Now leave. You try my patience.”

            “As you wish My Lord.” The messenger disappeared.

            “Orcs. Honestly. I wasn’t born yesterday…” Nero sniveled as he once again continued his path to the throne room.

            Night drew near, and as the last of the drops of sunlight dripped through the throne room, Nero stood, read for a grand feast. He paused to stare out at the sunset for a brief moment. Something felt out of place… A loud scream cut through the thick mist that permanently covered the forest. The scream was followed by another, then another. Shouts all around the forest went out. Torches were lit. Nero continued to gaze out his windows. A face shot up in front of his. Screaming and sliding back, he stumbled and tripped over his long robes.

            “What? No! It can’t be!” He cried out in terror. Standing not ten feet in front of him was an orc. An ugly, muddy, orc that radiated darkness and evil. The orc closed in slowly on the elf that had been standing so grandly not but a moment before. Just as the orc slashed downward with his sword, Nero drew his own sword and blocked the blow. Metal clashed, and soon as the battle of wills raged, the smell of dirt, blood, and sweat permeated the thick air. With one final blow, Nero bested the orc and the beast fell to his feet. But Nero’s victory could no be savored for long. More orcs poured through the doors and windows. Nero heavily breathed, then charged into battle. He had not survived the first invasion of orcs for no reason.

            Slowly the orcs were driven away. There had not been enough of them to make a large enough dent in the elves. That, along with the elfin natural ability to strike at their enemies without being seen was enough to finally drive the orcs away. But the damage had been done.

            Nero stood in the middle of his throne room, barking orders. “You, yes, you there! Gather five or six elves and clear out these bodies. Take care not to let their blood drip into the river or any drinking water. No you fools! Don’t drag them away, lift and carry them! To think you would have stained my beautiful floor with orc blood. Incompetent fools!” Though the elves grumbled slightly, them did as commanded and began clearing the orc bodies.

            “I am going to inspect the royal treasury room. Keep up your work.” Nero waved to them carelessly as he strode through the door. But as soon as he reached the door and was out of sight, he picked up the pace and ran to the treasury room. Finding the lock broken, he cried out in alarm.

            “No! No, no, no! It can’t be!” He cried.

            “My Lord, what is wrong?” An elf had snuck up from behind him. Nero jumped.

            “They’ve taken it!” Nero cried in both physical and mental agony.

            “Taken what My Lord? Not one gem is out of place.” The elf asked confused.

            “They’ve stole the Gemstone of Haze!” He continued to cry out in pain as he looked at the giant and muddy footsteps of an orc that led to an empty pedestal in the center of the room.

            “The what sir?”

            “You are not worthy of the knowledge I have provided so far. Leave, and tell no one of this interlude!” Nero yelled as he stood and collected himself. The other elf simply nodded and faded out of sight. Nero stood for a moment, then continued his walk, back towards the dungeons he had only just visited that morning. Entering the destroyed door, he looked through the cell that had once held his sister. Now it held the body of a dead orc. Not a trace of his sister lay in his wake.

            “Damn! Both Serein and the Gemstone in one foul swoop.” He sat beside the body of the orc, a tired and beaten elf. Perhaps this was a sign. Perhaps…

            From the darkened corner of the room, two bright blue eyes with golden flecks stared at the broken King of the Forest of Haze.

            “The Gemstone of Haze is gone?” The shrouded figure whispered. “But it is the heart of our city, the very thing that keeps us hidden in the mist. Without it, we are completely defenseless! Then I will retrieve it. I must. I will not see my city, my race and home, been torn apart while I can do something to help.” Slipping out of the dungeons, she picked up her pace quickly. Racing to what had once been her room, she shut the door behind her.

Looking around, she felt light hearted, despite the heavy burden she was about to undertake. She was free. Not stopping to wash or change, she grabbed her old stained leather traveling bag and began stuffing it with items. Extra shoes, a blanket, what little money she had left. Then she opened a closet and smiled. Her old weapons sparkled in the pale moonlight. She slung the sword hilt around her waist gracefully, then sheathed her silver polished sword. She threw her set of knives into her bag, but strapped one to her waist, for immediate usage. Throwing on a heavy dark blue cloak, she slung her quiver of arrows over her shoulder and grabbed the bow. Hooding herself so as not to be seen, the small figure picked up the light traveling pack and slipped out through the window. Her quest had begun.

>>>)(<<<

            “Frodo and Sam have gone on their own. Pippin and Merry have been kidnapped. Which do we follow?” A short, stalky dwarf questioned his two comrades as they sat around a small, dying fire.

            “We leave Frodo and Sam alone. Frodo needs to go on his own from now on.” A human man stood and stretched slightly.

            “Then we track Merry and Pippin!” An elf stood. The unusual trio nodded at each other.

            “Take only what you can carry, from here on out we will travel light.” The dwarf stood and put out the fire. Taking their weapons and traveling packs, they went off immediately. For their friends had been kidnapped by orcs. And all be damned if Aragon the human, Gimli the Dwarf, and Legolas the elf would just sit and let their friends rot with the evil creatures of the dark lord.*

 

~~~Well now. How was that? I really am hoping for a lot of reviews. I notice very few LotR fics get lots of reviews, but I’m striving to be one that does! Help me achieve my goal! –Vixen~~~

Rix13rix@aol.com