Consequences of a Huntress
Chapter 1
Somewhere Far Beyond
*Please note that I absolutely love Arwen/Aragorn, but really wanted to try something new. I don't own LOTR, but I do, however, own The Elven Hunters, Brianna Davis, and all that comes with their ilk.*
She should have seen this coming. She never did, of course. That would mean she had the semi-convenience of the gift of foresight. Naturally, she would be stuck in a situation such as this.
To say that Brianna Davis, as she constantly referred herself to everyone she met, was in a pretty pickle would be a gross understatement. Try being straddled, on the ground, by an incredibly raw smelling man (take a bath) at sword point? In fact, to add icing to the cake, try all of the above right after using said man to break one's fall? Unintentionally, Brianna would most certainly like to add in a very pointed manner, but the after effects still stand.
'Warlocks,' she thought, 'Not wizards or witches, not elves, and most certainly not anyone I ever desire seeing again, but I blame all of warlock-kind for getting me into this mess!'
Not that she particularly understood how that bit happened, there was too much crossfire from both sides, she just happened to be caught in the middle of whatever said warlocks were doing before her hunter's group intervened and, well, this was the result. Brianna glanced down at where she knew the sword point was hovering just above her left artery suddenly feeling very nervous. This inability to get out of her current situation did not sit well with her general disposition. It also didn't help that she couldn't exactly say anything with this psychopath's sword hovering so close to her neck.
"Who are you?" he finally asked.
Brianna rolled her eyes while letting out a slightly frustrated sigh. She glanced at his sword than back up at him with a very pointed 'You expect me to talk with your sword so close to my neck' look. He finally seemed to get the message when the tip lifted from her skin ever so slightly and allowed her to finally voice some coherent sentences.
"Well, I'm obviously not from around here, or didn't you notice my lack of appropriate attire and the fact that it's quite different than yours?" she asked indignantly.
The look he sent her told her that he still wanted his original question answered. Brianna wracked her brain for an acceptable explanation. How was she supposed to explain this? 'Oh hey, sorry to have fallen on top of you, but I come from a totally and completely different world from yours and I was caught in some magical portal spell thingy that blasted me here in the middle of a battle! Kindly tell me where I am, if you please? If I so much as say that I'll get committed!'
"It's kind of complicated and you wouldn't believe me if I told you," she stated.
This man, this dark haired human who seemed to move faster than she originally gave humans credit for, tilted his head slightly to the side and leaned forward slightly while bringing the edge of his sword closer to her skin across her entire neck. Brianna felt her mouth run dry. This man was prepared to kill her! She was used to complete strangers attempting to, certainly, but the bronze haired elf was used to being able to fight back.
"Is it now? Tell me, why have you happened on my group? What is your purpose here?" he asked dangerously.
He was deaf, or lacked basic comprehension skills, she decided. Really, the trees here were too thin for her to climb. What made him think that she was waiting for his little group to pass under her?
"And I'm telling you that I'm not from here and don't even know how I got here in the first place!" she snapped.
That bit was a lie. She knew what caused her to end up in this particular world, but what she did not know was how it happened nor the spell. Well, she knew what type of spell it was, she just didn't know which one. It was probably some sort of sorcery, if she knew anything about warlocks.
"Then what land do you hail from? Is it Mordor? Are you one of the fallen? Is your master Sauron?" he hissed.
Brianna's mouth dropped open? One of the fallen? Did he think she was a Knight Elf or something like their ilk?
"Okay, one, I hail from Alaska as far as I know! Where I come from, I'm a Huntress for Ecthairon. That's my world's force against evil, just so you know! I am not one of the fallen, as you put them, I have never heard of Mordor, and I most certainly have never known about this Sauron person you keep accusing me of knowing! Now put away your sword and get off me! You're heavy!" she snapped.
The man gave her a suspicious look and seemed to hesitate. Not that she could blame them, she really couldn't if they were being hunted, but she was getting really tired of laying on the ground with this heavy human sitting on her!
"Strider!" came a voice to her right.
Brianna glanced over to find a small person, literally a little man about the size of a dwarf if not smaller, standing near them. He looked young, that didn't mean anything of course, with his mop of messy black hair and clear blue eyes. She glanced back up at the person she now knew as Strider and took in his appearance better. Whereas the little man looked like he took slightly better care of himself, Strider's shoulder length black hair hung from his scalp in dirty ribbons. His face was sprinkled with prickly stubs of a beard he half-hazardly shaved. While his blue eyes were clean and bright, his face, clothes, and pretty much everything else, looked like he had been roughing it for several months. That was probably the reason for his body odor.
"I think she might be telling the truth," continued the little man.
And really, why would she lie outright with a sword pressed dangerously close to her neck?
"You cannot know that for certain, Frodo."
"She told us where she is from and used strange names to describe it. I do not believe she is," insisted the one called Frodo.
She closed her eyes, feeling some semblance of relief. She had a lawyer, it seemed.
"We should give her a chance, at least. You can lop of her head later if you don't like her explanation," came a newer voice.
This new person wasn't in her line of vision. It didn't matter really. This Strider was the person she had to convince most of all.
"She is armed, Sam," Strider replied.
"Then disarm me," Brianna supplied pointedly.
He didn't trust her. She didn't blame him. Brianna's body was littered with weapons and she sincerely doubted that he'd find all of them. To gain their trust, she'd have to completely make herself seemingly vulnerable. She had her magic. Wherever there were elements, she had magic, but letting them know that at this point in time would be a very bad idea.
"She won't run, Strider, not if she has a reason to," insisted Frodo.
Brianna wisely remained silent and hoped that this overly cautious man listened to his friend. After some mental deliberation on his part, Strider (an odd name in her opinion) finally heaved himself off of her. She sat up after uttering a small "thank you" directed mostly towards the little man known as Frodo.
"Do not disarm yourself," commanded Strider gruffly, "should you be a friend and we are attacked, I do not wish you to be completely defenseless."
Brianna nodded while keeping in mind that he probably would lop off her head the moment she rubbed his instincts the wrong way. In all honesty, he reminded her of a few seasoned elven hunters.
"Alright," she began, "What do you want to know?"
"You are an elf?" he asked immediately.
She gave him a look, "Are the ears not a dead giveaway or is it the fact that I'm too short?"
Strider raised an eyebrow and she returned his look with one of her own.
"I'm an elf, I'm just not an elf from here as far as I know. I've only ever known my father. My mother I have never met," she said.
He nodded and then asked, "Huntress?"
"Where I come from, the elven hunters is a group began by my great aunt, Artemis ven Aldura, to fight against the forces of evil. Every elf has learned their fighting skills from her academy, that's a sort of school, but only a few take on the mantel of hunter or huntress. We keep people safe and humans from finding out about us. Where we are, them knowing we're more than myths and legends will cause more harm than good," she explained.
"And what is this Alaska?"
Brianna wondered what his reaction would be if she explained what the United States were. She decided to find out.
"Alaska is a human realm where the Academy for Elven Hunters is. Alaska is a state that is part of a bigger country known as the United States of America. They are a Republic with elected officials and no nobility… or so they say," she explained.
Strider remained silent, but the four little men that traveled with him had no trouble with picking up the conversation.
"You said something about another world? You are not from here?" asked Frodo.
Brianna nodded, "I'm from Earth."
"Your elves are not like ours?" asked the voice she knew to be Sam.
She looked past Frodo to where the voice came from and finally placed a face to it. Sam had a mop of curly red hair styled closely to Frodo's. Like the other small one, he wore traveling close and looked a little worse for wear.
"Not particularly. We have our current clans, Aldura, Rhune, and Ylearan, but we do have the Eldar of our race. They're few, but they still exist and mostly keep to themselves. My people have a ruling family that governs us all," she explained.
Frodo sat next to her and inquired, "You know nothing of where you are or how you came to be here?"
Brianna shook her head, "I know I came here through some sort of portal spell that warlocks, humans who dabbled too closely with sorcery, conjured, but I'm not sure about anything else."
"Which means, if any of this is true, you know nothing of what hunts us nor the precise value of this company?" asked Strider.
She nodded and leaned back on the palm of her hands. Whether the human was warming up to her or not remained to be seen. She had to admit, the man had a superb poker face something she never managed to master.
Her eyes scanned the small brush of wimpy, gnarled, trees and loose leaves scattered on the ground. Spurts of browning grass scattered sporadically around the small clearing and the sun bore down on them with a darker gleam than she was used to. When she left earth, it was summer and she had currently been in Oklahoma. Here, apparently, fall was upon them and winter approached.
She knew that she had been thrust into another world, but the reality of the situation hadn't fully dawned on her until this moment. Brianna swallowed down a lump that suddenly lodged itself in her throat and willed herself to not break down.
"I… I don't know anything about this place at all," she replied in a small voice.
Brianna's teal eyes caught the blue ones of Strider's. Her sudden distress seemed to register with him as his rugged face softened slightly. Eyes, it seemed, really could tell a person everything. Brianna knew this because looking into his told her more about his company's situation than he probably wanted her to know. Whatever it was that hunted them caused him to fear.
She sighed. It didn't matter the situation, the place, nor the people; she was a hunter first and foremost. If something dark and evil was after him, it was her job, her duty, to help. She could feel sorry for herself later when they reached safety. Right now, they were probably stuck with each other.
"If you let me come with you, I will help in any way I can. If you're heading for safety, I want to go there as well," she said.
Strider inclined his head, "You do not know our purpose, yet you offer us aid. Why is that?"
Brianna smiled and replied, "I'm a huntress. My job is to protect this innocent and destroy evil. Besides, I have no idea where anything is and I need some sort of guide."
Strider didn't answer. In fact, he seemed rather against the proposition despite the fact that she was telling the truth. Brianna wondered about this. What was so bad that he didn't want to get an outworlder involved?
"Strider, if she's really from another world, she'd be in trouble if the Nazgul found her," prompted Frodo.
"I am for it," remarked another one of the little men whose name she didn't know.
"Same here," said the fourth.
Sam, the red headed little man seemed to think about it for a minute before nodding and giving his piece, "Personally, I still don't trust her, but I believe that she's not from here. She is too different even for what I'd imagine an elf would be. I say we bring her along."
The human man let out a tired sigh and muttered under his breath, "Save me from the trusting nature of Hobbits," before inclining his head to give his consent, "she may come, but she will stay by me at all times."
"Who are you?" asked Frodo.
'Hmm, he might have a point about them being too trusting if they only just now thought to ask my name,' Brianna thought.
She answered, "My human alias is Brianna Davis. Call me Brianna for now. It'll make things easier. And before your body guard breaths down my neck about it, I don't want my elven name to be revealed. There's power in a name and I don't make it my business to tell it to everyone."
The human let out a slight chuckle at that, "So there is. You may keep your name a secret for the time being, but once we reach our destination, it may be best to give it to us. Now, let us not tarry any longer. We must go."
He stood and the others with him. Brianna followed closely after suddenly feeling curious.
"So, what exactly is a Nazgul and is that what's after you?" she asked.
Strider glanced at her, "They were once human poisoned by Sauron and transformed into wraths. No humanity remains in them."
"One of those, huh? Can't say I've heard of this particular type of wraith before, but I am familiar with the breed," she remarked while stepping beside him.
"They are after the One Ring, a talisman of great power forged by Sauron himself. Frodo currently has it in his possession," he said.
Brianna nodded before shooting him a confusion look, "Hold on, you're running for your lives because of a bloody ring?"
There was no fire that night to illuminate the ground around them. Clouds hung low in the sky promising torrents of rain in the near future. Strider bent the limbs of the low bearing trees around their small camp and Brianna, very quietly, made the braches grow thick enough to hopefully filter out most of the probable downpour. The nights in Arda, as she found out the place was called, dipped to near freezing digits. The potential of waking to frost was expected and all of them found ways to keep themselves warm for the night.
She didn't need as much protection from the cold as the other's did, but she also didn't have much of an option of how and where she would sleep. She didn't have a cloak. Her body was clothed in her black battle suit and her weapons would most certainly not give her head much comfort from the cold ground. Steeling herself for a night of fitful slumber, Brianna unbuckled her belt and curled up on the ground.
Using one of her arms to better support her head the young elf maiden gazed at the leaf strewn forest floor and took the time to digest the day's events.
First, she battled warlocks conducting a very illegal ritual that she later found out opened a portal to another world. Second, she fell into said world and right on top of the Ranger, Strider, and literally had to talk her way out of getting her throat slashed. Third, she signed on to help protect four Hobbits (as she found out they were called) one of which carried a powerfully dark evil corrupting ring to an elven city by the name of Rivendell all the while avoiding nine wraiths (or Nazgul as they were otherwise known) who were out to capture the ring and kill all of them.
She shifted uncomfortably on the ground and closed her eyes in an attempted to gain some rest. Whether it would work or not remained to be seen. Maybe she could slip into a doze for the rest of the night?
A hand gently cupped her shoulder and she opened her eyes to find Strider hovering above her with her cloak in hand.
"Sleep on this, it will make the night easier," he whispered.
She blinked up at him before registering what he was doing.
"Are you sure? It's your cloak."
"Quite. You will need rest for the journey tomorrow," came his reply.
Deciding that it was best not to argue with the person who still mistrusted her enough to make her life living hell if he so chose, Brianna accepted the offered cloak with a soft "thank you". His bit of chivalry done for the night, Strider returned to where he was sitting and continued his watch of the camp and for wraiths.
Brianna bunched up the cloak and stuffed it under her head. The material was soft, yet firm, and resembled the elven cloaks issued to the hunters whenever they conducted their scouting patrols. Slightly more comfortable than she originally was, Brianna fell into a fitful sleep until morning.
Strider, as he preferred his company to know him as, frowned at the small black heap on the other side of the makeshift campsite. Naturally he had a lot of questions concerning her left unanswered. He hoped that would change; especially once they reached Rivendell. He wasn't comfortable with Frodo's immediate trust of the elleth. Even if she wasn't an agent of Sauron, she could easily be something more sinister. Her clothes were inked in black. Everything about her suggested she was used to hiding things. Her reluctance to give her name to them made him worry. He might have cause to keep his a secret, but she didn't as far as he knew.
Frodo was right about one thing, though. If she proved to be a friend, then her life would be in danger should Sauron's forces ever find her.
He glanced up at the tree branches he tied together earlier that evening and frowned. There was something odd about the branches and he couldn't quite put a finger on the problem. They were thick branches, thicker than… The branches were thicker than they originally were!
This realization crossed his mind the moment the soft patter of promised rain finally descended from the night's sky. A few droplets leaked through the roof into the camp, but remained far away from his sleeping companions. His eyes fell on the strange elleth's sleeping form and his lips curved into a frown. This Brianna Davis was a riddle and he wasn't entirely sure if he liked that.
"Marshes?" Brianna asked midday when the group stopped at the edge of the forest.
Beside her the Hobbits, Merry and Pippin as they were known, grimaced identically with sympathy. Frodo and Sam, while stoic in their own way, also did not seem eager about their prospective trek. Strider raised an eyebrow.
"The Midgewater Marshes to be exact," he said shortly.
Brianna frowned. Marshes were not her favorite terrain. Whereas she moved with grace and poise on perfectly flat lands, rocky wildernesses, and thick rooted forests marshes were among the few grounds her brilliant coordination failed her. It didn't help that the boots she wore were most certainly not marshland material. In fact, they were mostly good for stealth, battles, and the occasional daily travel on foot. This exceeded their usefulness and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that by the time they were out of the marshes she could kiss her boots goodbye. It was a pity. She liked these particular boots.
"Lovely. Rangers first," she said dryly.
She'd rather not have him around where he could actually see her stumble and fall into the stinking water.
The first day did not go well for anyone. Strider, who was the one with the most coordination, ended up helping Brianna and the Hobbits out of sticky situations. Pippin even managed to find a surprise swamp much to both Brianna and Strider's chagrin as they were the ones who had to get him out. The second day wasn't any better. The marshes' stench made it difficult for Brianna to concentrate which, unfortunately for her, caused her to stumble more often. At one point, when she took a tumble into a boggy pool, Strider put his figurative foot down and kept one arm around her shoulders and one of her hands in his. This on top of both of them trying to help the Hobbits over various unstable grounds added to a slow day.
The mosquitos were absolutely horrible and Brianna had burst out in laughter when the others in the company asked her about the name. She quickly explained to them about the classification of species in her world and that mosquito was the name the pesky blood-sucking flies eating their skin and causing the horrible welts. She also explained a few other bugs she recognized, gnats, cicadas and dirty looking minnows.
When they finally stumbled out of the marshes on the fifth day and into a hilly country side. To say that the company was relieved was an understatement. From their vantage point, though Brianna admittingly had the better sight, their eyes rested on one distant hill and the ruins peeking its top.
"Where are we?" asked Frodo though his question was more directed at the runes than the hill country.
"The Weather Hills. That is Weathertop, The Old Road. We may reach it tomorrow at noon if we head straight towards it. I supposed we had better do so," explained Strider with a slight frown on his face.
"Why suppose exactly?" Brianna asked while inspecting her nearly ruined boots.
"Simply that when we do get there I am uncertain as to what we may find. It is close to the road," he informed her.
Brianna winced and replied, "I hate roads. They're too open for my taste."
"But surely we were hoping to find Gandalf there?" asked Frodo from his place beside Brianna.
While Brianna wondered about who this mentioned Gandalf was, Strider explained to them the dangers of waiting for him in the edge of this wilderness. She privately agreed with him from the bits of the conversation she paid attention to. When he mentioned something about birds being used as spies she instinctively glanced up. Her eyes narrowed. Aerial surveillance huh? As open as this land was, it would be easy for them to be seen. Which meant that someone probably already knew the company increased from five to six sometime before the marshes. The question was what to do about it.
She could, quite possibly, refract light and bend it around them to conceal their images. It would only work while they stood still, though. She never managed to master that ability while moving nor over so many people. There was, she concluded, no point in doing anything majorly magical at that present moment. It was bad enough Strider didn't trust her much, but if she revealed herself as a being who bent wild magic to her will there would be consequences. No one had asked her originally about being able to use magic and Brianna suspected that elves in this world probably couldn't. At least, she amended, not the way she could.
They continued east into the hills toward Weathertop. While the Hobbits seemed more cheerful to be out of the marshes (which Brianna had to admit was a relief) Brianna felt increasingly uneasy.
That night, there were closer to Weathertop and the cave Strider was angling for them to stay in for the evening. Brianna, who was used to sleeping on the ground by then, allowed Strider to keep his cloak and dozed lightly on the ground. She hadn't planned on sleeping in any case. Things were just too quiet for her liking. It was her experience that things hunting people were never too far behind.
In the morning, Brianna found herself in the company of Merry and Pippin with Strider following closely behind the three. Frodo and Sam were allowed to take the lead while Strider guarded their rear. It spoke of how wary the man and Brianna were of their current position for this temporary truce.
She took the time to ask the two Hobbits beside her about the world's calendar and found, much to her delight, that it was similar to the one used in her world.
"We left Bree six days ago, actually," informed Pippin.
"You came to us around that time as well. We just narrowly escaped the Black Riders that time and we were all on edge," continued Merry.
Brianna nodded. She could respect that. She'd have reacted the same way. It was why she tried to be less obstinate as she normally was. There was a time and place for a fiery personality and that time and place was not it.
"You say it's the beginning of October, what is the numerical date?" she asked.
"The fifth of October," replied Pippin helpfully.
They ascended into the hills at noon following a cunningly lain path. Strider took the lead again and Brianna found herself treading through the hard stone slightly behind him. The path was an old path with many large stones littering its width. The Hobbits, like Brianna, seemed to fair better along this trail than in the marshes and she wasn't surprised. Even in its current disrepair the going was smoother than it had been. They still had to be careful. There were enough sharp stones hidden in the myriad of rocks, shards, and pebbles proving the going to be slightly treacherous. Brianna's boots, worn and ragged as they were, wouldn't protect her feet from a meticulously sharpened (or pointed) stone hidden among the natural debris. There were also the Hobbits to consider with their bare feet. They might have been able to withstand many troublesome obstacles, but there was always that one possibility something could slice through anyhow.
Noon had passed and the second hour of the afternoon struck by the time they made it to the southern end of the path. The hill, Weathertop, loomed over the rest and was evidently the highest point in the area. Strider lift Sam and Pippin with Brianna while he took Frodo and Merry to the top of the hill.
"Who is this Gandalf?" Brianna asked once Strider and the other two were away.
Sam glanced at her while Pippin answered, "He's a wizard and is the one who urged Frodo and Sam to leave The Shire once he got wind of the Black Riders tracking him."
Gravelly, Brianna nodded. Sam, seemingly satisfied with Pippin's answer, moved to explore the small dell. The elf, more aware of likely danger than they were, stopped them hastily.
"Let me look around first," she suggested.
When the other's acquiesced, though Sam looked less trusting than Pippin did, Brianna swiped the layered strands of her braided and messy bronze hair out of her face and made it her business to take a look around. Human tracks were evident, most likely hunters or Rangers like Strider, because of their light tread. Firewood was set up in the back of the dell seemingly cut a week ago. Recently, she noted, a fire had been burned in the mediocre roasting pit and signs of a recent, probably two-day old, camp were about. The heavy imprint of a boot was seen with several others mulling about. These heavier imprints looked to her like armored footwear.
With a frown and a curt command to stay inside, Brianna slipped out of the dell and into the surrounding slopes. Tracks of the same ilk spattered around along with hoofmarks. Despite the fact that she found a suitable water source, Brianna returned to where Sam and Pippin waited for her with a very unhappy frown on her face.
"Set up camp, I'll tell Strider about this when he returns. There is a small stream a few meters away, but don't go outside just yet. I want him to take a look at something," she instructed.
Strider, Frodo and Merry returned from their inspection at the top of the hill about fifteen minutes after Brianna had given the two Hobbits in her charge instructions. The ranger's face looked troubled and his blue eyes met Brianna's teal for a moment. There was a guarded look about them, like he saw something that he didn't like. Mentally she allowed herself to sigh while keeping her overall appearance calm and collected. Might as well give him the bad news. He already looked quite prepared for it.
So she told him about the bit of scouting she conducted around their camp site, explained everything she saw in as minute detail as she possibly could and instructing him to look around at the disturbed earth outside. Strider didn't seem to be in an argumentative mood and acquiesced to her suggestions. This left a very confused elleth with four silent Hobbits, two of which looked incredibly frightened.
Strider returned shortly after looking uncertain. The questioning look Brianna sent him prompted the ranger to explain what exactly the problem was.
"Rangers, my kin, have been here in the last five days. They left the firewood behind. I cannot tell if Gandalf was here or not, but it seems as though many have passed through since the rangers left. Frodo, Merry and I also observed the Black Riders not too far from here," he explained.
Brianna pursed her lips and fought to remain silent. In situations like this, she was normally attempting to draw beings like this to her so she may dispose of them. This hiding and running they were doing did not sit well with her despite the fact that she knew it was needed.
"Wouldn't it be best for us to leave?" asked Sam.
Strider frowned and paced the inside of their little dell carved within the hillside. Brianna watched him mutely as she situated herself on the dirt floor. She could, she figured, make it harder for the riders to get to them. Maybe this would be a prudent moment to reveal the fact that she had elemental powers? She caught the look on Strider's face and decided against it. The ranger was not in a mood where news like that would be well received.
"I am afraid, Sam, that I cannot think of a better place for us to hide that would require us to travel well into the night," he finally told them.
"Engaging them is out of the question… where I come from, wraiths can't see. What about your world's?" Brianna asked.
She asked because even in the dark in her world, wraiths had lost their visual senses, even at night. The only time they gained a semblance that sense back was during the new moon where the only bright things shining in the sky are stars. She wondered about these wraiths who were so radically different than the ones she was used to.
"The horses can see and the Riders will use spies to seek out what they hunt. They cannot see light, only shadows, which means that they most likely beheld our silhouettes on Weathertop. When night falls, their vision improves," he explained.
Brianna paled as Sam asked, "Did they see you three?"
"Our shapes, yes."
Mentally, Brianna was cursing every evil entity known to her while her brain wracked for a plan. She would give her right arm for a car or motorcycle at this present time. Let those Riders try and catch up to that! Unfortunately, the only thing that seemed the logical course of action was to hide from the evil and fervently pray that they didn't see them. Failing that, confronting them could be an option to allow for one party to escape, or maybe even crippling them long enough to get everyone safely away.
"I take it that their hearing and sense of smell is impeccable?" Brianna asked in a grumpier manner than she meant.
"Worse, they can smell our blood and undoubtedly already have," answered Strider.
Brianna leaned forward and rubbed her hands along her face suddenly feeling worn out.
"Do your wraiths like fire?" she asked.
Strider moved to the back of the dell and drew out several logs as he answered, "No, fire is our friend in this wilderness."
"Maybe," began Sam, "it is also as good as shouting 'here we are'."
Once the fire was started the group was reminded of the fact that they hadn't eaten and set about making supper.
"I do not see how our food can last, we have been eating more than we ought and Brianna has joined our group with no supplies to her name. We still have two weeks to go before we reached Rivendell," worried Frodo.
Brianna, feeling guilty, apologized for dropping on them so suddenly. Strider, feeling gracious for some reason, reassured her.
"Do not worry yourself, Miss Davis. We have what we may need for the time being. Once our stores run out we can gather and hunt as needed. With that being said, it is probably best that we do that as needed. We are traveling in haste and hunting and gathering will take too long. Tighten your belts and think of great feasts in Rivendell," he said with a bit of humor that seemed lost on the Hobbits but made Brianna smile.
Night fell and with it came cold. Brianna, being an elf, didn't feel it as greatly as her Hobbit companions did and Strider seemed to be of the same disposition. The ranger began to tell them historical stories of the happenings in Middle-Earth. Brianna silently listened, taking all of it in.
Merry, after a while, asked about this person named Gil-Galad (an elf she found out), but while the tale concerned them and their quest (according to Strider) the Ranger refused to allow talk of it. Not with the servants of their enemy so close.
"Brianna," began Sam after a minute of contemplation, "you're an elf. Do you have any tales about your people from this 'Earth' place?"
Brianna blinked, momentarily stunned out of her reverie, and answered, "Many. My mentor is one of my world's Eldar and leading elven historian. She's recorded everything from before the beginning of time to now."
Strider seemed interested, "I assume that, with your mentor being referred to as "Eldar" that she is quite old."
Brianna nodded, "Oldest of five since the beginning of our race. When evil in our world first became known, she was younger than me."
"Is she a force against this evil?" asked Frodo.
"One of the great Five. She tends to fade more into the background, though and has a knack for becoming the mentor of the greatest names in elven and human society," she replied.
Pippin piped up, "Are there any songs about them? These great names?"
Brianna remained silent as she wracked her brain for any good ones she happened to know. There were a few, several that she had worked to translate from elvish to English, or common tongue as Strider called it.
"Do you want songs or ballads?" Brianna asked.
"What is the difference?" Strider inquired before the Hobbits could reply.
Brianna considered her answer for a moment before launching in her brief explanation, "Songs depict image, deeds, thoughts or feelings of a specific moment. A ballad is a tale."
"Do a song in your original language," Sam practically begged.
Brianna thought long and hard about a good candidate for a song to represent her people. She settled on one that was most relevant to her family.
"I know a few good ones, but the best in my repertoire is about one of my ancestors from long ago. A former queen of the elven race. She was known as the Mother of Wisdom by her people and is still referred to as such today," she explained.
"Well do not leave us in suspense! Sing it for us!" implored Merry eagerly.
Brianna felt her cheeks grow red despite herself. Singing had never been much of a passion for her and she had only seriously learned because of one particular hunt she had to go undercover for. The young elleth told them as much and earned several hands airily waving off her insistence of a poor quality voice.
"I can assure you, Miss Davis, that should I be implored to sing something my voice will be worse than yours. At least indulge us this once," prodded the ranger.
Knowing that Strider was only doing this to better keep the Hobbits' minds off of the ever looming darkness threatening their hiding place but unhappy about the prospect of singing in front of an audience, Brianna finally relented much to her chagrin.
"Máthair an eagna,
(Mother of wisdom)
beag fós cothrom
(small yet fair)
Deontas do dúinn do lámh shábháil
(Grant to us your saving hand)
Tá do focail gear
(Your words are sharp)
Mar contúirteach mar chlaíomh
(As perilous as a sword)
Gearr síos ár naimhde
(Cut down our enemies)
Sábháil do chuid daoine
(Save your people)
I gcás tá muid cinnte go bás
(For we are certain to die)
Do dhaoine caoin ar do shon, is mó na n-oidhrí
(Your people cry for you, greatest of heirs)
Do dhaoine caoin ar do shon, is mó na n-oidhrí
(Your people cry for you greatest of heirs)
Maiden de honor, Wielder as cruach
(Maiden of Honor, wielder of steel)
Cé go díreach agus an ceart
(Though Just and right)
Bheannaigh le solas naofa Dé
(Blessed by God's sacred light)"
When she had finished she was met with quite a few questions from the Hobbits. Sam was interested in the language, as was Frodo, in which Brianna explained it to be an elven dialect a certain group of humans picked up from her people. Upon further inquiry, she went on to explain a few interesting components of her language.
"There were a few times when my people were so scattered from each other that our language diverged to the point where no one could understand each other. The ancestor I was singing about came across this problem while she was in exile from her people. We have at least six different dialects from around my world," she informed.
Strider, who always seemed to be on high alert whenever she was doing anything, asked, "You say around as if you believe your world is round."
Brianna blinked at him suddenly confronted with a major cultural difference she hadn't even anticipated.
"My world, the planet Earth, is round," she said slowly more for her benefit than theirs.
"Planet?" asked Frodo who looked very confused.
"What's a planet?" Merry asked.
Brianna sighed. How was she supposed to explain this? She wasn't a scientist, never had a good grasp on it, so the fact that her friends were confused about her wording threw her into a rut. She couldn't explain this, at least not in words they could understand or even comprehend.
"I, honestly, have no idea how I can explain it. It's been widely accepted because we've… taken a good look at it if that makes any sense," she supplied.
Strider seemed to take this as a cue to change the subject. He brought up a tale that he knew and wished to tell them briefly. This brought the Hobbits to his attention again and Brianna, who was blushing from embarrassment, listened quietly from her place in the shadows of the fire. The Ranger chanted the verses in their shared common language, roughly translating it from his world's elvish (she didn't know if it was similar to the one she grew up with or not). It was about Beren and Luthien, a human man and an elven woman and how they met. Even though Strider chanted the translated version, Brianna found herself enraptured by the words. There was something eerily beautiful in the way his voice echoed around the camp. She wasn't sure if it was the song (she knew it was a song) or if it was the way he seemed to revere the words he spoke.
He stopped, somewhat abruptly in Brianna's personal opinion, sighed and said, "That is a song in the mode that is called ann-thennath among the elves…"
"Oh," the apprehension which dawned on Brianna made itself known to the others before she could quite stop herself.
At her soft outburst, Strider studied her for a moment before going on, "Miss Davis seems to know what I speak of. This particular literary style is hard to render in our common tongue, so what I relayed this night is but a rough echo of the whole. As I said, the song is far longer than what I have just relayed, but the ending is hard to decipher. I can finish with saying that Beren was the son of Barahir and Luthien Tinuviel, the daughter of the elven king Thingol."
The names were familiar to her and she didn't quite know why. Had her aunt or her mentor mentioned this before? It was most likely Professor Laurel Moruni. She had been known to travel worlds in her younger days when the elves spread out across the stars in the early days when man first appeared. Had she actually been there to bare witness to the story?
"Beren and Luthien fell in love," continued Strider, "In those days the Great Enemy of whom our own was merely a servant at the time dwelt in Angband in the North and the elves of the West coming into Middle Earth made war upon him."
Brianna tapped her right knee with her right finger while her brows furrowed in thought. She had definitely heard this before. Professor Laurel Moruni had gone to this newer world sung into creation by the three songs of Beleghir, Islingir, and Ainafea because of a growing evil running rampant at the time. She had said she met a young elf woman named Luthien going to Angband to rescue a man captured by this horrific evil being reminiscent of Aleyel ben-Schachar. She had helped them get into the fortress before leaving to help the armies looking to fight the evil warlord.
"Tinuviel rescued Beren from the dungeons of Sauron and together they passed through great dangers before casting down the Great Enemy from his thrown and took the brightest of Silmarils to be the bride-price for them to wed. It was when they left from the fortress that Beren was slain by a Wolf and died in Luthien's arms. She chose, then, to become mortal so that she may follow Beren in death. Luthien and Beren had a promised lineage among the elf-lords of old and there are still those of whom she was the foremother. Elrond of Rivendell is of that kin. For of Beren and Luthien was born Dior, Thingol's heir; and of him Elwing the White whom Earendil wedded, he that sailed the ship out of the mists of the world into the seas of heaven with the Silmaril on his brow. Of Earendil came the Kings of Numenor."
Brianna watched his face closely, not because she already knew the tale he spoke of, but because as he spoke his demeanor changed as well as the tone of his voice. This tale was personal to him, she realized. Why she didn't know, but she suspected that she might find out later if she was patient. Patience wasn't a virtue she excelled at, but in this case she decided to make the attempt.
With the story ended and the clouds covering the waxing moon climbing slowly high above the hills, the Hobbits moved and stretched. Brianna remained where she was while sorting through her version of the tale. From the way Professor Moruni had told it, the part Beren and Luthien played had been one aspect (though immensely important) of the account. Then again, the professor was a historian and loved looking at the bigger picture and the intricate details. Plus, she had only heard about what went on in Angband from Luthien after the battle. She wanted to talk about it more with Strider, to inform him that her people had been to this place before and to compare notes, but something stopped her. Whatever that thing was, it had nothing to do with the lingering distrust still settled between herself and the man. In actuality, her huntress senses tingled as a cold feeling washed over her. Brianna breathed in deeply before gagging.
Strider and the Hobbits looked over at her startled and Brianna hissed, "Death, I smell death!"
The Ranger acted first instructing them, "Get behind the fire!"
Everyone did, including Brianna who was none too keen on fighting a type of wraith she had never faced before. She did, however, draw her sword and sifted through the various ways she could employ the elements best used against anything wraith-like in nature.
She was certain that she saw it before the others did, three dark shadows creeping across the night like puffs of smoke. Her inclination towards fire-based lightcraft jumped to her hands and the flames they hid behind shimmered. They were cornered, one of the things she hated the most about their position.
When they seeped into the shelter they had each of them looked directly at her. Convinced that they could see her, at least, Brianna remained crouched behind the fire and raised her sword into a position that would guarantee immediate physical retribution should the… things… cross the line of flames. They probably would have left them be had Frodo not done the very thing that would have completely alerted them to his presence. He, most likely in his fear and probably from the will of the thing itself, put on the ring.
She couldn't see him. She couldn't even smell him. She could hear him breathing and that was her only indication of his whereabouts. The leader of the wraiths drew out a long, sleek, sword. The forbidding presence emitting from its blade caused her to freeze. Brianna clenched her blade while becoming all the more certain that, while the group couldn't see Frodo, the wraiths could. This became evident when the thing plunged its sword to the place where Frodo had been a moment prior and a loud shout accompanied by a cry of "Elbereth" was heard.
The moment the leader of the Nazgul (thats who she figured they were) stumbled back releasing an unearthly shriek Brianna's base instincts took over.
Magic was a base component to her race. It was what she grew up learning to taper from wild magic to something somewhat controlled. There were few instances where her magic came to her protection without her knowing. This just happened to be one of them.
The fire grew, shimmered and then launched itself at the Nazgul. This was when both her and Strider seemed to have found their ability to move and the two simultaneously launched themselves at the wraiths. The ranger wielded a flaming log. Brianna went at them with the full intent to kill, her magic channeled along the point of her sword.
Strider had been right about the fire. It seemed that after they realized two members of the group had no issue with using fire to fend them off, the wraiths fled.
They stood there for a moment, Strider seemingly forgetting that he had a burning log in his hands and Brianna just attempting to regain her wits. Back on Earth, wraiths were frightening to deal with, but they didn't even hold a candle to what the Nazgul had. The smell of evident death notwithstanding. Her world's wraiths were merely summoned demons, after all. They weren't an embodiment of human evil, they were just beasts who couldn't think. These wraiths were nothing like that. These wraiths could think. These wraiths probably realized she was the one who created the fire. Which meant they would contact their master. Which meant that her cover was blown.
She shuddered and finally sheathed her blade. She caught the look in Strider's blue eyes, questioning and slightly accusatory.
"Fire does not do something like that of its own accord," he stated bluntly.
Brianna shrugged, "No, it doesn't. I provoked it, though not precisely by choice."
Before he could ask her meaning behind that little riddle, Sam called out for them. Turning, they noticed Frodo prone on the ground and that vile blade which caused Brianna to freeze up lay a few feet away from them. He looked white and there was blood pouring out of a wound in his chest.
Strider leapt forward and inspected the wound while Brianna went to look at the blade.
The tip seemed to have broken off, from what she could see. The blade itself was a dirty stone grey, one that seemed to suck up the light shining around them. She could think of every horrific thing that blade could do. How, in the wrong hands, it could call up a sickness of death that would take the joy out of people's hearts and replace it with cold, hard, fear. The blade spoke to her. Told her that her light would blink out. Its black tendrils slinking around her ready to choke the life from her body-.
"Brianna!"
Hands grasped her shoulders firmly and pulled her away from the blade; dragging her body forcibly away from the deadly blade and back towards the fire. Blinking and gasping for breath she hadn't known she'd been holding, Brianna looked up at a worried looking Strider hovering over her.
"Are you alright?" he asked.
She nodded and shook herself out of the evil trance which attempted to injure her.
"What is that thing?" she finally breathed and mentally winced at how her voice sounded exactly like she felt; scared to death.
Strider kept her steady while he replied, "That was a Morgul blade. Frodo's been stabbed by it."
She shuddered. Her body didn't seem to stop shaking.
"What do Morgul blades do?" she asked in a more steady voice.
Strider's lips pursed and he glanced at Frodo and the other Hobbits before meeting her eyes again.
"I will tell you and the others after we get to a safe location. Merry, Pippin, pack up the area. Sam, see to Frodo. I will check for enemies. Brianna keep the fire going and make sure that no one touches that blade," he ordered.
Brianna nodded dumbly, not in the mood to argue. She scooted to where Frodo was and reached out to feel his skin. She almost drew back from how cold his skin was. She glanced at Sam.
"Bri, what's wrong?" he asked.
The elf searched with her arm, feeling through the liquid within Frodo, just as the elven healers had taught her. She located the poison near the knife point. Going off of the fact that wraiths couldn't stand fire or warmth of any kind, she began to send a steady stream of heat into the little Hobbit's body.
"He's too cold. Whatever that thing did to him injected some sort of poison into Frodo's system. I'm warming his body up and attempting to slow down the poison. There's only so much I can do, though, without hurting him," her frustration bled through her tone and Sam seemed on the verge of panic.
"I thought I'd never say this, but I wish Strider stayed," he muttered.
Brianna nodded in agreement, "So do I."
"Bri, we're done packing," Merry said softly as he and Pippin sat down near the fire.
She barely acknowledged him, too busy keeping the fire going and helping Frodo. It was after they said this when the man in question returned. Strider resembled a wraith in the way he swooped into their camp and back among them.
"Are we able to go?" she asked.
"Yes," he replied.
He moved towards her, Sam and Frodo as if to pick up the latter, but Brianna stopped him by heaving the little Hobbit onto her back.
"I can keep him warm while we walk. Just lead the way," she said with an air of authority she rarely showed to the rest of the group.
To his credit, he only hesitated for a moment, but the situation being as dire as it was, he didn't stall for too long. With a nod in her direction, he instructed the rest of the Hobbits to ready the pony, Bill, and led them out of their former campsite. He stopped only to wrap the blade in a thick cloth and stuff it into his cloak before taking them as quickly away from Weathertop as he could.
*Few things to Note*
1) I did not use elvish for Brianna's song, because elvish doesn't have a translator like Google. I did, however, take the next best thing to elvish, which was Irish. I really don't know how good the translation is, I don't know Irish, but if anyone reading this happens to know it, feel free to PM me or leave a review with corrections. I put the English in parenthesis so that you all can at least see where I was trying to go with the "Song". The song is written in simplistic free-verse and there is more to it than what I have down, but, like the Lay of Luthien, it's extremely long. She sang the first chorus.
2) Aragorn seems to be taking her display of magic very well. He's not, but due to her reaction to the Morgul blade, Aragorn is more inclined now to believe that she's not in league with their enemies.
3) I know I only did one scene from Aragorn's POV. The next chapter will have a lot more of Aragorn awesomeness.
4) I had been wondering how the effect of Middle Earth's evil would effect her. After all, she's come from earth, where evil is more widespread and hidden verses Sauron and his forces being quite obvious in their movements. There's also the fact that Brianna is used to battling an upfront evil. They might lurk in the shadows, but her people were so numerous that it didn't matter. There was always an escape. Middle Earth isn't quite like that. Evil has festered in the land for a long time and the world's inhabitants haven't known true peace for many years. Darkness is a lot more sneaky here and preys on the hearts and minds of the people around them which is why Brianna was so affected by the Morgul blade. More about her world will be revealed in due time.
5) Elves from Brianna's world can jump between dimensions. They just haven't done so in over four thousand years. Because of earlier records, Brianna already knew of the fact that other worlds existed, which is why she's taking this transition better than one would think. And she does like to keep busy, after all.
So, like it? Hate it? Despise it? Review and tell me what you think!