Disclaimer: All characters (except for Auden and Alistair) and places in this story belong to J. R. R. Tolkien.

a/n: i've revised the first chapter, so that you don't have to read so much before it gets to more interesting part of the story. (i.e. the part that actually has to do with LOTR) bear with me. this is my first fiction with original characters that are actually part of the plot, so i don't know exactly how to go about this. also, i swear i'm making an effort to make Auden very un mary-sue like, but all the little online test thingies i did say she's borderline. EEK. :Ofor the record, the disclaimer applies to all chapters in this story.

ALSO. i need at least one review before i post another chapter. that is my rule. now don't get me wrong, because i love reviews, but this rule is mainly in place, because i don't intend to go on writing a story that no one is interested in.

all questions (that won't give away the story) will be responded to in the next chapter posted.

as a warning, this story is rated T, for mild slash, and language.

pairings include: Legolas/Aragorn; and eventually Legolas/OC


Alistair

1

They were in the hospital. The walls were bright and blank, and the people blended together, everyone in the same shade of sea foam green or canvas white. Blue name tags were stuck to collars or pockets, or hanging around necks. It had a hurried atmosphere, though it was strangely comforting to the siblings.

Alistair was quickly attended to. They cleaned his head wound, and Al sat bravely, holding Auden's hand, as they sewed up the cut. He didn't flinch or hiss even once. He was always this brave and passive. Auden worried about him, and asked him if he was alright several times while they wrapped a bandage around the newly stitched laceration. He was patient and responded each time with a reassuring smile, but this only concerned her more.

Auden was prone to panic attacks and insomnia, and he always had to look after her. When he had learned to read, he would read aloud to her, to better put her to sleep. Lately though, he had gotten so good at it, that it actually kept her up, because she wanted to hear the story. She could never stay awake through any of his favorites, though. He admitted that most of them were slow to begin, but still, the end was worth it. So of course, he often read these to her, because they put her to sleep, and greatly interested him.

"You worry too much," he told her, after he caught her staring at him with furrowed eyebrows and a deep frown for the third time within the hour. Auden tried to pretend that she wasn't worrying at all, but he knew better. He sighed, pushing his hair out of his face and trying not to cringe at the feel of the rough bandage under his fingers.

"Let's go for a walk, Al, I need some air," she said after he was silent for a while.

He agreed and they walked out the revolving doors together. Revolving doors seemed an odd choice for a hospital, but that was neither here nor there. They were both somewhat in need of a walk.

Clouds were dark and grey above them, still heavy with rain, after several weeks of such weather. Alistair slouched alongside his sister, wondering if perhaps there was a world somewhere, which was going without rain, because this world was hogging all of it. He looked at Auden peripherally and watched as she dragged her feet dejectedly, bloody jacket slung over her shoulders, almost completely covering the red mark across her clavicle, from the seatbelt. Her eyebrows were knitted together in the center, while her mouth formed a thin line, curved down in a frown.

Auden was becoming increasingly more upset. It wasn't enough that she'd almost killed a man. Oh no, she had to cause her brother severe brain damage, of course. No brain damage was caused, really. But it could have been. Easily. If Alistair's head had been turned slightly more to the left, his head might have broken open completely; or if he had been looking just a tidbit upward, his neck might have snapped. Their parents shouldn't have allowed her to drive with him in the car. It didn't matter that she'd had her license now for four and a half years. She was obviously too irresponsible for such precious cargo. She tried to sneak a side-glance at her brother, but failed and was immediately locked into a stare with him.

"You're blaming yourself, aren't you?" his eyes narrowed.

Auden blinked and then smiled a brilliant, white smile. "Of course not," she responded, rather convincingly in her opinion. It was really. It would have convinced anyone; that is, anyone except for Alistair.

He sighed quietly and said, "Good."

An idea dawned upon the girl, as the trail had been getting more and more tree-covered, the longer they followed it. There, in the center of a small clearing up ahead, was a large, magnificent tree. It was incredibly tall and had low branches that even her too-short-even-for-a-ten-year-old brother could reach.

"Alistair!" she said excitedly, as they neared it.

"Hm?" He was still brooding a little.

"Climb with me!" she demanded almost gleefully. But he only stood and watched as she pulled herself onto the lower braches and slowly made her way upward. Alistair seemed to consider it for a moment, but thought better of it and sat down at the base of the tree, leaning his head back to watch his sister, who was half concealed to him by the branches.

He closed his wide, bright eyes and let the wind tease his hair, filling him with the scent of fresh rain and wildflowers. He could feel the light intensifying on his face and scrunched his eyes closed still more tightly against it. It was hot and made him see orange, though he wasn't looking at anything. He heard the shuffling and creaking of branches above him and songs started springing into his head. They weren't any kind of song you could sing along to. They were just peaceful sounds, lulling him into sedation.

"Don't you dare fall asleep, mister!" Auden's voice rang clearly in his ears, but he didn't open his eyes.

"I won't," he responded quietly.

"You might have a concussion, you know."

"Yeah."

"Alistair?"

"Mhm."

He heard a swish and the loud creaking of the tree as Auden climbed down towards him. His head felt swimmy and he was finding it difficult to open his eyes. A loud 'snap' caught his attention and they shot open of their own accord. Auden's frightened gasp followed it quickly and she shrieked, "Al, move!"

He had enough time to turn his head and see her crash down onto him. His head ached and beyond a view of soft, green grass, black clouds seemed to be swarming around his vision. He rolled himself over, to see that his sister had made an effort not to land completely atop him. Most of her body lay in a crumpled heap at the roots of the tree, while it had only been her feet that collided with his head. Alistair made to reach for her, but as he tried to sit up, the world started to spin, blending together, and eventually pitching him into darkness, as his body fell limp upon the ground.


Alistair opened his eyes and groaned at the pain in his head. He rubbed it and felt warm liquid under his palm. Sighing and shaking his hair out, he confirmed that his cut had reopened, as he saw vibrant red dripping almost cheerily from his dark curls.

"Ow," he huffed, then smiled and turned to see his sister, passed out beside him, "Watch where you fall, Auden; I just got out of the hospital, you know."

But she did not stir at his voice. She didn't wake to offer him twelve apologies within the same minute, or fuss over him, or drag him back up the trail to the hospital with a vengeance. As he looked around, he noted that there was no longer any trail to speak of. This worried him slightly, but he had a more pressing matter to attend to.

He scooted towards Auden and tried shaking her, but she would not wake up. He poked and prodded and yelled and shook, but she stayed stubbornly unconscious. He stopped suddenly at the sound of strange accented voices, calling out, seemingly searching for someone. Perhaps the hospital had noticed he was missing. But no, it was not his name they were calling.

Still, his sister wasn't waking up, which was becoming more and more vexing, and quite problematic on top of that.

"Frodoooooo?" the voice called. Alistair recognized the name, but it escaped his memory at the moment.

"Excuse me!" he called to the voice, as he saw a form moving through the trees. "Excuse me! I need help!"

"Frodo!" cried the owner of the voice, bursting through the brush. He grabbed Al by the shoulders, shaking him slightly, "Where did you go? And what happened to your head?!—Wait a minute! You're not Frodo!" Alistair's assailant was slightly shorter than he, with dirty blond hair of the same curly texture as his own.

"Well, n-no, not last I checked…" he responded, thoroughly alarmed by this small, odd stranger.

"Have you found him?" another stranger fought his way through the underbrush, this one very slightly more rotund than the other, with, Alistair noticed, large, hairy feet, and similar, strange attire. It suddenly dawned on him, where he was, and excitement overtook his fright.

"Whoa!" he exclaimed, "You're hobbits!"

"We are. And apparently you aren't," the new arrival turned to the other, "Pip, we're s'posed to be lookin' fer Frodo! What're you doing?"

"I thought he was Frodo," Pip responded sullenly as he at last released Alistair, who could have jumped for joy at this point. He knew this story. He'd read this story. It was one of the ones Auden frequently fell asleep during.

As Alistair was so caught up in his simultaneous joy and disbelief, he forgot the fact that, at this point in the tale, something very unfortunate was about to happen.

He was thinking of how to go about explaining his predicament to the two hobbits, when a man arrived in their small clearing, looking harassed and quite upset. His fear seemed to have spread to the hobbits, and after a moment, Alistair remembered that this was when Meriadoc and Peregrin were taken my Orcs, and that this was also when Boromir died.

Dread filled him to the brim as he looked up and spied the advancing creatures; ugly and twisted, built, or shall we say bred, solely for the purpose of killing. And eating, but Alistair didn't want to think about that.

Boromir raised his shield and brought his horn to his lips, sword at the ready. One of the hobbits let slip a small whimper, and Alistair's knees started to shake.

Auden woke abruptly at the blaring of a horn.


a/n: Next chapter should be up by February 15th, though possibly before. If anyone is interested in being my Beta, please notify me, because I hate finding mistakes after somethings been posted for over a year. Review, my prrreccioussss. :D Srsly.