Do not own Lotr but my characters. First fic, please be nice.
Chapter 1
In the Kingdom of Mirkwood, there lived a 2050 maiden by the name of Alassea. She was the sole servant of Olwe the magician and the healer.
One sweltering summer eve, near midnight, a violent storm broke over the village where Alassea lived. Lightning splintered the inky darkness. Thunder rumbled like swords clashing each other. The falling rain fell with then sound of a million hissing snakes.
Dirty faced, scrawny, and long haired, the maiden was sitting in the dry front hall of her masters's ancient timbered house, wearing an old, long-sleeved tunic with a belt made of frayed rope. Her cloth boots were hand-me-downs of hand-me-downs.
Close at hand was a lantern that burned a flame no bigger than a button. There was also a cudgel with which she was supposed to beat away anyone who tried to enter the house. But as far as Alassea was concerned, the most important thing before her was a tattered pack of tarot cards. These cards, she believed, could fashion the future. Since she could envision no life for herself other than as a servant, it was her master's fate she wished to shape.
Alassea, knowing midnight was the best time to cast the cards, reached for the deck. But now that the hour had come, she was so nervous, her trembling fingers could barely square the packs of cards, much less than shuffle them.
When she finally managed to do so, she took a deep breath, brushed the hair back from her green eyes, and turned over the first card. It was
THE MAGICIAN
Alassea smiled. Who else could the card represent but Olwe? She turned the second card. It was
THE SERVANT
This time, Alassea laughed. No doubt as to who that card represented. That her master's fate included her was exactly her desire.
Quickly, she laid out the next six cards:
THE PALACE THE KING THE PRINCE
THE PRINCESS THE GHOST THE KNIGHT
Alassea frowned. She had hoped for something better. It all looked too much like Olwe's past life. Nonetheless, the maiden readied the last card, the one that would determine her master's ultimate fate.
Eyes shut, pryaing to see Riches, Alassea turned over the ninth and final card When she opened her eyes and saw that the card was
DEATH
she gasped.
Even as she did, a crashed of lightning shook the house. Simultaneously, an explosive pounding erupted on the front door. The summons came so suddenly, and at such an appallingly awful moment , the tarot cards spurted from her hands like a geyser.
Terribly frightened, Alassea scooped up the cards, jammed them into her pocket, groped for the cudgel and lantern and jumped to her feet.
The knocking grew more insistent.
"I'm coming!" she cried as she hurried down the hallway. "I'm coming!"
By the time Alassea reached the front door, she decide to be cautious . No telling who-or what- was on the other side. Had she not just cast the Death card?
"Who's there?" she called.
"A message from the palace!" came a shouted reply.
The palace! Death itself would have been more welcome. Alassea's first thought was to run to her master and give warning. After all, it was only ten months since Olwe, arrested and brought to trial in that same palace, had, under threat of torture, confessed and repented of being a magician. Though Olwe's life had been spared at the last moment by King Thranduil, he remained under house arrest and was watch constantly. Not allowed to even step outside, Olwe had agreed to shun all who came to his door.
So although the magician's house was in the heart of the village, the old man and his wife-her name was Luthien-had lived like hermits since the trial. For all they knew, the rest of the world had ceased to be. Only Alassea was allowed to venture forth for such necessities as food.
At one time Olwe had three servants. When he went on the trial, two had fled, not wishing to serve a man who more likely was going to be burned to death at the stakes for wizardry. Alassea felt otherwise. Having lost both her parents when she was young, she was overjoyed when the Village Corporation bound him over to Olwe. In those days the magician was a rich and honored citizen. Only when he was arrested did wealth and respect evaporate. Alassea, however, was not going to abandon the elf who had been like a father to her.
"Open up!" came a cry from beyond the door.
Hands shaking, Alassea pulled back the iron bolt, cracked open the door, and peeked out. By the feeble glimmer of her lantern light she saw a soldier standing in the swirling rain. The elf's green cloak whipped in the wing like an agry raven's wings.
"A message for Olwe the magician," the soldier shouted above the storm.
" My lord!" Alassea called, reciting the response she had been instructed to give to all who came to the door : "My master, Olwe, no longer practices magic! Under the loving protection of King Thranduil, he has seen the error of his ways and has repented! Magic is not to use for fun and it is evil!!!"
"Evil or not," the soldier returned over the roaring storm, "it's urgent he come to the door!"
My lord!" she cried. "If you wish to engage my master with anything concerning his former sinful ways, he will not see you!"
At the soldier shifted his position slightly, enough so Alassea could look upon the narrow, water-soaked street. Another flash of lightning revealed a carriage. Large and brown with four ebony horses in its trances, it suggested great wealth. But the most meaningful thing Alassea saw was that insignia on the carriage door- by which she might have discovered on whose authority the visit was being made- had been hidden by a piece of cloth. It made Alassea recall the old saying "Bad news always hides its face."
"My lord," she cried, "don't you understand? My orders are to let no one in! Master Olwe has renouncred his past! He wants nothing to do with those who try to lure him back to sinfulness!"
The soldier wiped rain from his face. "Well spoken, cur," he mocked. "And might I add, well performed."
"It's true!" the maiden exclaimed, and made an attempt to shut the door.
The soldier kicked the door back open with his booted foot. Then he drew a scroll of parchment from beneath his cape and, attempting to shield it from the rain with his free hand, thrust it at Alassea. "Take this to your master," he commanded. "It's from King Thranduil. Lord Feanaro himself awaits in the carriage to escort you."
"Lord Feanaro!" Alassea cried. The king's closest adviser. Alassea knew him best as the principal tormentor of Olwe at his trial.
As Alassea took the parchment, she said, "My lord, would you care to wait inside?"
"In a magicaian house? Are you mad?"
"Whatever you say, my lord!"
Slamming the door shut, Alassea all but burst into tears, convinced that, by casting the tarot cards, she had brought on her master's doom. With leaden feet, she went off to search for him.
Pls R/R!!! be nice.....thx
Chapter 1
In the Kingdom of Mirkwood, there lived a 2050 maiden by the name of Alassea. She was the sole servant of Olwe the magician and the healer.
One sweltering summer eve, near midnight, a violent storm broke over the village where Alassea lived. Lightning splintered the inky darkness. Thunder rumbled like swords clashing each other. The falling rain fell with then sound of a million hissing snakes.
Dirty faced, scrawny, and long haired, the maiden was sitting in the dry front hall of her masters's ancient timbered house, wearing an old, long-sleeved tunic with a belt made of frayed rope. Her cloth boots were hand-me-downs of hand-me-downs.
Close at hand was a lantern that burned a flame no bigger than a button. There was also a cudgel with which she was supposed to beat away anyone who tried to enter the house. But as far as Alassea was concerned, the most important thing before her was a tattered pack of tarot cards. These cards, she believed, could fashion the future. Since she could envision no life for herself other than as a servant, it was her master's fate she wished to shape.
Alassea, knowing midnight was the best time to cast the cards, reached for the deck. But now that the hour had come, she was so nervous, her trembling fingers could barely square the packs of cards, much less than shuffle them.
When she finally managed to do so, she took a deep breath, brushed the hair back from her green eyes, and turned over the first card. It was
THE MAGICIAN
Alassea smiled. Who else could the card represent but Olwe? She turned the second card. It was
THE SERVANT
This time, Alassea laughed. No doubt as to who that card represented. That her master's fate included her was exactly her desire.
Quickly, she laid out the next six cards:
THE PALACE THE KING THE PRINCE
THE PRINCESS THE GHOST THE KNIGHT
Alassea frowned. She had hoped for something better. It all looked too much like Olwe's past life. Nonetheless, the maiden readied the last card, the one that would determine her master's ultimate fate.
Eyes shut, pryaing to see Riches, Alassea turned over the ninth and final card When she opened her eyes and saw that the card was
DEATH
she gasped.
Even as she did, a crashed of lightning shook the house. Simultaneously, an explosive pounding erupted on the front door. The summons came so suddenly, and at such an appallingly awful moment , the tarot cards spurted from her hands like a geyser.
Terribly frightened, Alassea scooped up the cards, jammed them into her pocket, groped for the cudgel and lantern and jumped to her feet.
The knocking grew more insistent.
"I'm coming!" she cried as she hurried down the hallway. "I'm coming!"
By the time Alassea reached the front door, she decide to be cautious . No telling who-or what- was on the other side. Had she not just cast the Death card?
"Who's there?" she called.
"A message from the palace!" came a shouted reply.
The palace! Death itself would have been more welcome. Alassea's first thought was to run to her master and give warning. After all, it was only ten months since Olwe, arrested and brought to trial in that same palace, had, under threat of torture, confessed and repented of being a magician. Though Olwe's life had been spared at the last moment by King Thranduil, he remained under house arrest and was watch constantly. Not allowed to even step outside, Olwe had agreed to shun all who came to his door.
So although the magician's house was in the heart of the village, the old man and his wife-her name was Luthien-had lived like hermits since the trial. For all they knew, the rest of the world had ceased to be. Only Alassea was allowed to venture forth for such necessities as food.
At one time Olwe had three servants. When he went on the trial, two had fled, not wishing to serve a man who more likely was going to be burned to death at the stakes for wizardry. Alassea felt otherwise. Having lost both her parents when she was young, she was overjoyed when the Village Corporation bound him over to Olwe. In those days the magician was a rich and honored citizen. Only when he was arrested did wealth and respect evaporate. Alassea, however, was not going to abandon the elf who had been like a father to her.
"Open up!" came a cry from beyond the door.
Hands shaking, Alassea pulled back the iron bolt, cracked open the door, and peeked out. By the feeble glimmer of her lantern light she saw a soldier standing in the swirling rain. The elf's green cloak whipped in the wing like an agry raven's wings.
"A message for Olwe the magician," the soldier shouted above the storm.
" My lord!" Alassea called, reciting the response she had been instructed to give to all who came to the door : "My master, Olwe, no longer practices magic! Under the loving protection of King Thranduil, he has seen the error of his ways and has repented! Magic is not to use for fun and it is evil!!!"
"Evil or not," the soldier returned over the roaring storm, "it's urgent he come to the door!"
My lord!" she cried. "If you wish to engage my master with anything concerning his former sinful ways, he will not see you!"
At the soldier shifted his position slightly, enough so Alassea could look upon the narrow, water-soaked street. Another flash of lightning revealed a carriage. Large and brown with four ebony horses in its trances, it suggested great wealth. But the most meaningful thing Alassea saw was that insignia on the carriage door- by which she might have discovered on whose authority the visit was being made- had been hidden by a piece of cloth. It made Alassea recall the old saying "Bad news always hides its face."
"My lord," she cried, "don't you understand? My orders are to let no one in! Master Olwe has renouncred his past! He wants nothing to do with those who try to lure him back to sinfulness!"
The soldier wiped rain from his face. "Well spoken, cur," he mocked. "And might I add, well performed."
"It's true!" the maiden exclaimed, and made an attempt to shut the door.
The soldier kicked the door back open with his booted foot. Then he drew a scroll of parchment from beneath his cape and, attempting to shield it from the rain with his free hand, thrust it at Alassea. "Take this to your master," he commanded. "It's from King Thranduil. Lord Feanaro himself awaits in the carriage to escort you."
"Lord Feanaro!" Alassea cried. The king's closest adviser. Alassea knew him best as the principal tormentor of Olwe at his trial.
As Alassea took the parchment, she said, "My lord, would you care to wait inside?"
"In a magicaian house? Are you mad?"
"Whatever you say, my lord!"
Slamming the door shut, Alassea all but burst into tears, convinced that, by casting the tarot cards, she had brought on her master's doom. With leaden feet, she went off to search for him.
Pls R/R!!! be nice.....thx