Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of The Rings, or any of the recognizable characters.
Author's Note: This is my first story, so please review.
This fan fiction starts out with several scenes, so to avoid confusion I will tell you that he scenes on earth are told from Katrina's point of view, an the scenes in middle earth are told in 3rd person. Also, this will make a lot more sense if you have read the Silmarillion; because it is based on a question I had regarding Luthien's death. The chapter about her is recorded on YouTube, if you haven't read the Silmarillion. (Sorry- I have no idea how to spell that.) Anyway, on to the story.
Chapter 1- Plague
~~~~England, October of 1349~~~~
I glance back at the village behind me. It is all I knew, that little pocket of life nestled on the slopes of the great hill I now climb. I glance upward, and sigh. We still have so far to go. I glance back again… I could turn around. I could say that the Lord of the castle we approached had turned us away at the door. But no. I wouldn't do that. We are their last chance, my sister Caroline and I. We had been safe for so long, in this secluded little hamlet as the villages around us fell. And now, it threatens all. Plague. I could still hear the word, echoing in my inner ear, as a woman had screamed it in fear and pain. Plague. Her son had been the first, and then it had spread like wildfire, only more deadly, until Caroline and I had been the last ones healthy. The village wise woman had bid us come here, and so we came.
"They healed me once, when I was but a little girl. I had been trapped in a blizzard, and they brought me back to life. I believe they are fairies in that castle on the hill. They glow, as if with starlight. The Lady especially. Perhaps she is Queen of Faerie? I do not know."
She then broke from her reverie, and spared Caroline and me a glance. "You shall go, both of you. Find us a cure. That is your task."
She then hunched over, and stared, broodingly, into the fire. Our audience was over.
We are alone. Our friends are dead or dying, and the few who are almost healthy will be in that position soon. We are the only hope, and yet we have none. We have resolved ourselves with death.
The gate creaks open of its own accord. I jump; I hadn't realized that we were already here. Caroline smiles at me thinly, and I return the nervous smile.
We enter, attempting in vain to silence our pounding hearts, our echoing footsteps.
Suddenly, a man is before us. He has an unearthly grace, and glows with a soft light. Caroline and I sink into curtsies, for this is a Noble before us, and probably a faerie.
A soft smile plays about his lips, and he invites us in. The room we enter is warm, and comfortable, and extremely beautiful. There are paintings that I only want to go up to and inspect, but this Lord before me has not given me permission, so I will not do so.
"Come now; tell me why you have come."
I start at the musical beauty of his voice, and begin to speak.
A few minutes later, he looks distraught, and bids us follow the Lady of the house to our rooms. He will search for a cure in his library and tell us of it in the morning. Caroline and I curtsy as he leaves the room.
As soon as he has gone, I look around the room. Where is the Lady? And then I see her, standing by the staircase.
Her beauty is unsurpassable, indescribable. I believe that if starlight had a physical form, it would look like her. The soft beauty of a waterfall, the stark awe creating beauty of a mountain, and the homeliness of a campfire are all captured in her slim form. The Lady turns, and begins to gracefully climb the stairs.
All too soon, we reached a large chamber, and the Lady spoke to us for the first and last time. "These are your rooms. Sleep well. And…remember."
Her voice is beautiful, like an orchestra, a harp, a song, and yet it contained the wild loneliness of a sole wolf howling to the moon. I was confused by her last sentence, though. Remember? Remember what? I shrug mentally, and set aside that fact to mull over at a later time. Right now, I just want to sleep.
~~~~England, October of 1349, the next day~~~~
I smile happily at Caroline as the sun rises. Right now, nothing seems impossible. I do not doubt that the Lord of this castle has found a cure. This balcony we sit on has such a view that it seems that if he can possess this beautiful place, he must somewhere possess the scrap of information necessary to make a cure.
I hear three sharp raps on the door, and whirl around, speaking as I do so. "Come in."
He enters, as gracefully as when he greeted us, but something seems wrong. His previously immaculate hair is disheveled, and his eyes look red. Somehow, he seems to be glowing far less than before. I have seen this look before, once, when I aided the village healer with a difficult birth. The woman had died, and the newborn child, and the man, who had loved her with his whole heart, did not survive the night, although we could not find anything physically wrong with him. The Lord of this castle looks at us sadly, and states "I have your cure."
This statement should have caused me joy, but I knew that he had something more to say. He had found a cure, but at what cost? "I have found your cure," he repeated "but before I give it to you, I have a history, that became legend, and myth, and should be remembered when I fade, to tell you"
"There was Eru, the One, who in Arda is called Illuvatar; and he made the first Ainur, the Holy Ones, that were the offspring of his thought…"
Hope you like it so far!
Review please!
The last line is taken from the Sillmarillion, and it belongs completely to Tolkien.