Title: The long way – The ten walkers
Author: Lilya
E-mail: lilyathedreamerhotmail.com
Genre: Action/Adventure/Angst/ Drama/Romance… Personally I think there's a bit of everything.
Summary: On October 14th , right in the middle of the war against Voldemort, Victoria Cross, seventh-year Slytherin, left Turin via Floo Powder to reach Hogwarts. She never arrived there. Instead she ended up in Middle Earth, but maybe it wasn't just a case. The girl started a long journey…
Main characters: The Fellowship of the Ring (especially Boromir and Frodo) Victoria Cross (OC)
Pairing: slight Frodo/Victoria
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer. This story is contains: Peter Jackson's movie "The Fellowship of the Ring" 80% and J. R.R. Tolkien's book 5%. Ergo, the remaining 15% should be mine.
If you have already heard it, read it or seen it somewhere else, then it's not mine.
Thanks to: My big sister Veronica, who made me write this story; Alessandra for her gags and Lara, who invented Gondor dialect. I love ya, girls, you rock my world!
A very special thanks to my wonderful beta-reader, Daughter of Olorin. Without her, this story would be worse…
Very Important Author's Notes: Okay, folks, I know nobody likes author's notes but this time you can't skip them. This is a Lord of the Ring/Harry Potter crossover, well, really it's a crossover with two fan fictions I wrote about Harry Potter. You don't need to read them: many things will be explained during the story, but if you wish to, they're called "Drops of water wearing through the stones" and "She stayed". You can find them in the Harry Potter section of this very site.
This is not the usual "XXI-century-girl-dropped-in-Middle Earth"…well, not completely, at least. Victoria – said XXI century girl – doesn't end up in past times, nor in the book, nor in the film. To her, Middle Earth is another universe. In her XXI century, "The Lord of the Rings" doesn't exist. This means that she doesn't know what's going to happen nor why she's there (yes, there's a reason why she's there. And it's not stealing my favorite character's heart).
I know that Common Tongue is not English, but this fic is already too long without Victoria taking Common Tongue or Elvish class. Please bear with me.
I don't know if this is Mary-Sueish or not. If it is, then please tell me.
= speech
" " = thoughts
= Elvish.
Italic = foreign language (Italian, Gondor local speech, Piedmont local speech, Latin)
Italic paragraphs = flashbacks
Italic & bold = emphasis
Thank you for you attention. And now let's get started.
THE LONG WAY Part one: The ten walkersCHAPTER I : THE WISH
Are you all right, mister Frodo? asked Samwise Gamgee, his eyes full of worry. Frodo Baggins cast him half a smile and nodded, keeping his concentration on the road. The way to Rivendell was quite long, especially for the short legs of a Hobbit. It wasn't only the journey that weighed heavily over him. No, it was the ring he kept close in his pocket that made it all harder. A sudden noise started him, but he relaxed when he saw it was just Merry and Pippin. Sam turned to scold them for the noise and their reckless behavior and Frodo ran a hand over his own pale forehead. He almost envied his two younger cousins, so lively ad carefree, who didn't understand the real danger of that mission.
"I wish I could be like them…" he thought, his hand automatically stoking the pocket where the Ring was. The heaviest weight of all. Strider threw him a worried glance, but he didn't speak. Frodo stopped to look at the strange quartet that was his fellow-travelers: the trustworthy Sam, his young and heedless cousins and a nameless stranger…all there to help him, but nobody really understood. He wouldn't wish such a responsibility to anyone else, never. But…
The girl sat on a wooden bench leaning forward, in one of the aseptic waiting rooms that there were in the Turin Section of the Nation Ministry of Magic. In that room, there was no on else but her. Outside the window, the city – her city – lived and pulsed, but its sounds didn't reach her hears. She kept toying absentmindly with the silver ring she wore on her left hand. She turned it around her finger, took it off, put it on again, put it on another finger, and then the dance started all over again, barely changing the succession of its steps. She didn't know exactly what she was thinking about: maybe everything, maybe nothing…maybe she was just trying to ignore the lump in her throat. A hawk struggled in a cage on a big trunk, the girl raised her eyes to meet his own.
You aren't looking forward to go back to Hogwarts as well, are you? The hawk ruffled his feathers Neither do I.
She sighed and kept on playing with her ring. The green stone sparkled in the sunlight coming from the windows. Then the ring stopped.
But what do you want to do about it… she said. …We have no choice.
The dance started again. Faint footsteps approaching were heard in the corridor and the door was slowly opened by a pale clerk in a gray-smoke suit.
Miss Cross, if you want to follow me…
The girl straightened her back with a sigh, putting on her ring. Doing so, she brushed a fingertip against one of the two snakes that held the green stone. She got to her feet, took the cage with the hawk in her left hand and with her right one she dragged the trunk. It was very heavy, but it wasn't exactly a surprise. In that trunk, Victoria Cross had her life…or at least what remained. She followed the clerk through corridors spotless and empty, passing by offices full of agitation. It almost didn't look like they were in the middle of a war. They reached an heavy wooden door.
Here you are, Miss Cross, said the man holding the door open to let her pass. You can use this fireplace.
Victoria pushed the trunk inside the unlit fireplace, putting the cage on it. The hawk struggled again but differently.
I know, I know…I don't like traveling via Floo Powder as well.
When you're ready, miss… the clerk coughed holding out to her a vase filled with a strange powder, impatient to go back to his triple-copy modules.
Victoria sighed, wiping a hand over her forehead: there was no escape. She turned and marched decidedly toward the man, glaring at him. Under that gaze, he swallowed nervously. The girl reached instinctively for the powder with her right hand, but she almost stopped, hesitant. Her hand fell back by her side, the powder slid among the clenched left hand, brushing lightly the ring without scratching it. She marched back into the fireplace and there she hesitated for a moment. She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and reopened them.
"Any place in the world would be better than…"
Hogwarts! She shouted throwing down the powder. A vortex captured her, the trunk and the cage with hawk and they all disappeared.
Frodo raised his head and looked around. Something was going to happen, he felt it…But what if it was just a trick of his own imagination? He shook his head, worried, but his reflections were interrupted by Merry and Pippin.
Look! they shouted, pointing to a clearing a few meters away from them. Right in its middle something really strange was happening. There was a kind of "tear," something like a spot that was growing larger and larger. Beyond its jagged "borders" was only a confused blue-violet mass, like storming clouds carried by the wind.
What is that? asked Sam, frightened.
I know it not, replied Strider, unsheathing his sword. But I don't like it.
If only Gandalf was here… Merry murmured as Strider pushed them back, ready to face whatever creature would come out of that portal. To their great astonishment, first thrown out was a cage with a big bird inside, then an enormous trunk…And finally came the girl. She could have been between thirteen and eighteen years old, it wasn't easy to tell. She had a girl's body, but there was something about her that made her look older. She had straight hair, lighter than Frodo's, dark complexion and violet eyes. As a whole, she was quite a common girl. She was that kind of girl who is called with a series of adjectives from "gracious" to "pretty", but never beyond. The confused expression she wore on her face made her look like a child and gave her a sweet air, but surely nobody would ever mistake her for an Elf. The only particular things about her were her clothes, the strangest ones that Frodo had ever seen. She wore a white blouse under a gray, shirtless sweater, a little green-and-white striped scarf strangely tied around her neck, a gray skirt that barely passed her knees, pink socks and a strange pair of back and white shoes. On those clothes, she wore a long, black tunic with a strange embroidery on her heart. Strider lowered his sword, but didn't sheathed it back: the girl looked unarmed and harmless, but it could be a trap.
Who are you? she asked, getting back to her feet and eyeing them up and down, which was not exactly friendly. Where the hell am I?
You're in Middle Earth, milady, exactly on the road to Rivendell, the Elven City. I am Strider, and these are my fellow-travelers.
The girl frowned menacingly. I warn you, I'm not in the mood to be laughed at… She almost growled as her eyes flashed dangerously.
Fordo started softly. There was something slightly alarming in those eyes…and by the way Strider looked at her, he realized he hadn't been the only one who noticed.
What is your name? he asked her sternly.
Victoria Cross. Vicky Cross.
I've never heard a name of this sort. He looked at her more sternly, but she didn't care and simply shrugged her shoulders.
It's not my problem.
Instead, I believe it is. Where are you from?
Turin, Italy.
I know no place called like this… he replied. What was that tear? How did you get here?
I don't have the slightest idea.
What if she's a spy? asked Sam, worried.
No… said Strider, sheathing his sword. …just a lost girl.
Would you mind to stop talking like I wasn't here? said Victoria.
Forgive us. Do you know how to go back home?
She rolled her eyes. I thought I said I don't know how I get here. However, if I knew it do, you think I'd stay here chatting with you, genius?
Watch you mouth, girl.
Listen, if you don't feel like helping me, then you'd better get out form my way and be gone, instead of wasting my time.
Frodo came near the Ranger and tugged at his cloak to attract his attention. The man bent down.
I think we should let her come with us, Strider.
At those words, the man cast the girl a brief glance and then turned to look at the small Hobbit.
Are you sure, Frodo? I don't think we should trust this stranger…
But look at her! Frodo replied decidedly, astonishing his fellows and himself first. She's alone and lost, she doesn't know how to go back home…we can't leave her here, she's just a girl.
Mister Frodo, if I may say so…I don't like that girl.
Sam is right. Merry backed him up. She has something strange…especially in her eyes.
Didn't it occur to you that she could be scared? Frodo replied. Think about it. She's far away from home, in a strange place she doesn't know and she can't leave, with some strange people…
Strider sighed, All right. He turned to the girl Since you have no place to go, you will come with us to Rivendell. Lord Elrond, the Elf Lord, surely will know what to do.
Victoria nodded. Strider took a small bag from Billy's saddle and threw it to her.
Here. Take some clothes and hurry up.
What?
I hope you didn't think to bring that trunk. It's too heavy and it would slow us down.
Victoria opened her mouth to reply, but then she closed it without saying a word. She turned toward her trunk and started fussing with it. Frodo couldn't tear his eyes away from her. He saw her sliding a hand in her pocket and moving her lips and then…he recovered suddenly. Nothing had happened, Victoria was closing her trunk, but…he felt like there was something missing. Maybe feeling his gaze on her, the girl turned to look at him for a moment. Frodo felt a blush creeping on his cheeks, but he didn't look away.
I'm ready, she said, getting to her feet and adjusting the bag on her shoulder.
Good, let us go. We've already wasted too much time.
Just a moment, Victoria said, turning to the empty cage on the ground. She whistled softly and a hawk flew down from a tree branch, landing on her shoulder. Her gaze, cold as ice until then, softened as she stroked his feathers. Good. Now we can go, she said, kicking away the cage and coming near them.
They continued their journey with this new, strange fellow. For the first time in their lives, Merry and Pippin kept quiet and the others almost didn't notice their presence. They whispered to each other, often casting hurried glance to the girl. Sam, who wasn't so happy about this journey even before, now looked more nervous and also Strider kept an eye on the newcomer. On his part, Frodo couldn't stop staring at her. There was something strange about that girl, and it wasn't just the way she dressed or how she had arrived. He didn't feel something evil, it rather was something…sad, terribly sad. He didn't understand what it was, but he felt it nonetheless. Victoria probably was aware of all the staring eyes, but it was clear that she didn't give a damn about what they thought of her. Yet, a couple of times Frodo saw her looking around with clear nervousness and confusion, and her eyes rose more often toward the sky, looking for the reassuring shadow of her hawk flying high above them. The young Hobbit didn't fail to notice that the girl did those actions only when she thought that nobody was watching her.
As soon as darkness fell, they stopped under a big oak tree. Victoria hadn't spoke during the journey. The only time they had heard her voice had been during a break when she had announced she was going to change her clothes. But those ones she had chose were weirder than the ones she wore when she had arrived. She had changed her skirt with a strange pair of light-blue trousers and the black tunic and the shirtless sweater with a normal one. The only normal clothes were the dark green cloak and the white and green striped scarf she had tied around her waist. In the light of the small fire, Frodo studied her face, looking for answers to the thousands of questions that ran through his head: Had letting her come with them been a mistake? Who was that girl? Where was she from? But above any another question, where was she now? Because Victoria was with them physically, but her soul was far away, more than the Shire. The expression she had on her face reminded him a little bit of the one that Sam had on his own every time he thought about the Shire, about his home…But at the same time it was different. He couldn't decipher it. Frodo turned to Strider. He was studying her as well. The two exchanged a brief glance and then the Ranger spoke: Do you want to tell us who you are?
I told you, replied the girl dryly. My name is Victoria Cross, I was born in Turin, I came from a place called Italy…I don't know how I got here.
Really? asked Strider And pray tell me, how come you wear an Elvish ring?
Victoria looked at him with her eyes wide, like he had said the most stupid thing ever.
What?
Don't pretend you don't know anything. he leaned forward and forcefully caught her left hand, showing the ring she wore on her ring-finger. This has been made by the Elves, there are no doubts. Their handiwork is unmistakable.
Victoria freed her hand from his grip. You're wrong. It comes from my world.
May I see it closely?
The girl threw him a suspecting look and slowly took off her ring, handing it to him. The Ranger studied it at flame's light. Its fitting had been made in silver, and it was so bright you could almost see your own image, decorated with those intricate motives typically Elvish. From the fitting's decorations came out two small snakes that held a green stone. It was quite large and thick, which was unusual for Elvish manufactures -- unusual, but really meaning. The work was unmistakable. His doubts were far from resolved, but clearly the girl couldn't tell him more. He had to wait to reach Rivendell and speak with Elrond or Gandalf or both to have an explanation. He handed her ring back and she hastily put it back on, like she was afraid to lose it.
But the Ranger's interrogation wasn't over yet. What were you doing before you came here?
I was…walking in a street. I was going to school.
With a trunk like that one? Strider insisted.
I attend a boarding school.
A what? asked Merry, puzzled.
A boarding school. It's a kind of school: usually they're very old and exclusive, with a long tradition…Students come to attend them from all over the country, sometimes even from abroad. And since they can't eat or sleep at home, they live there for the whole school year. Was it clear enough?
They nodded.
There's anything else you want to tell us? the Man asked.
What do you want me to tell you? she asked back, raising her eyebrows.
Something about you, for example, said Frodo.
Tell us of your world! Pippin spoke up.
My world… Victoria whispered, staring at the fire. …my world is very different from yours…People live in big cities and…
She spoke for a long time. The others listened to her attentively for different reasons. To the Hobbit, it was just like a fairy tale, while to Strider it was a way to understand better that stranger. As soon as she finished explaining more or less how things went in her world, Strider sent them all to bed.
Frodo, however, couldn't sleep, and it wasn't only because of his not exactly comfortable resting-place.
Sssh, Frodo! Are you still awake? Merry whispered.
Frodo turned toward him. Aye, I am. What's the matter?
It's that girl… the Hobbit murmured. …do you really believe all the things she said?
His cousin hesitated. I don't know. I think I do. Who could ever make up such a thing? He turned on his back, staring at the starry sky among the tree branches. Flying machines, machines that travel under the sea, journeys in the sky…It's all so absurd that it could be true.
What if she's mad? Merry whispered. She has something strange in her eyes…and the way she talked… He shook his head, confused.
Frodo turned his head to look at him. Do you remember when Bilbo told us his adventures and we pretended not to believe him just to make him lose his temper? His cousin nodded. Well…Victoria doesn't seem to care if we believe her or not…or what we think about her…
I wonder if she cares for anything, apart from her stupid hawk. Merry muttered. Well, goodnight, Frodo.
'Night, Merry.
The morning after, Strider awoke them at dawn. They ate hurriedly their breakfast and then they took off again. After the tale of the previous evening, Victoria had shut herself down again. The only words she said were meant for her hawk. That evening they camped again. Victoria was on her own, far from the others. She ate mechanically, lost in her own thoughts. Frodo was watching her. He was resolute to throw down the walls that stranger surrounded herself with.
Don't you think you'd be warmer near the fire? he asked her.
Victoria looked at him astonished. No, thanks… she replied slowly I'm…I'm fine here.
But if you get cold, then you'll be sick.
Her eyes narrowed. Afraid I could slow you down in your escape, aren't you?
The young Hobbit's blue eyes went wide. No! It's just that…well…
He was just caring for your well-fare, miss. Sam spoke up. You know, it looks like you don't care about it.
Oh, Victoria murmured, lowering her gaze. She seemed caught in the middle between believing or not believing those words, between hoping again or not. I'm sorry, I shouldn't say it, it's just that…
Just that…? Frodo asked, trying unsuccessfully to meet her eyes.
A sigh. …It's just that it has been a long, long time since somebody cared for my well-fare. She closed her eyes, putting a hand on her forehead and sighing again. The ring she wore on her hand sparkled in the firelight and caught the Hobbit's gaze for a moment. He came near her.
Are you sick? he asked, laying a hand on her shoulder.
No, don't you worry. I'm fine… she said, meeting his eyes for a moment and then turning to stare at the fire. …I'm fine she repeated in a low voice.
Frodo squeezed her shoulder and Victoria's dark hand covered his own small and white. The Hobbit watched their hands and when his gaze rose, Victoria was staring at him. She looked both immensely sad and terribly happy at the same time. As they stared at each other, she smiled softly at him.
Frodo… Strider's voice broke them. The Man motioned for him to come back with the other Hobbits. Reluctantly, the boy obeyed.
What makes you think we're flying? said Strider, staring sternly at Victoria.
Elementary, Watson, the girl replied staring back, her eyes icy again. You move as fast as you can, stop only at night, light small fires and for a short time, pass through the woods avoiding roads and you are doing your best to erase every track we leave…Or there's very urgent business waiting for you or you have somebody at your heels… She looked around at them. Or both. It's not so difficult to understand it… she lowered her voice, her eyes far away. …and then I'm quite experienced in flights.
Did you run away from home? Strider asked.
Victoria's hands clenched automatically. At home there's nothing left to run from…And it was like so even before. she murmured. And then, more then that, I have to mind people from school.
But you were going there! Frodo cried out. Why did you go there if it's not safe?
Victoria's gaze rose slowly, until their eyes met again. 'Cause I have no choice.
Would you mind speaking clearly for once? Strider asked.
Would you mind minding your own business? she growled turning to him and casting him a dirty look.
Frodo sighed. It had happened again. Victoria had shut herself down.