Disclaimer: I don't own Lord of the Rings.

This will be a series with more than one part. Though I haven't decided how many yet. Here is the first one. Boromir will be alive in my series.

Bold words are Elvish.

Bold and italicized words are in Haradric.

Book One: Brothers

The Ally Series

Introduction

Just outside a village, a young girl walked along the road; she was dressed in plain brown pants and a green tunic, along with brown, leather boots on her feet. Her ebony black hair was braided into a thick rope and hung down to her waist. She had eyes as blue as the most beautiful sapphires. Though she looked as if she were traveling alone, if you traveled to her right into the forest for about a half mile, you'd discover a large warg-like creature keeping a close eye on her. The girl walked into the village inn and ordered a small bowl of soup at the bar; she usually prepared her own meals, but she had recently earned some money getting rid of some wargs for a farmer and so had decided to treat herself to lunch. Looking at the girl, she seemed to give off an air of nobility and elegance even while dressed only in traveling pants and a simple cotton tunic. She held about her a feeling of delicacy, but there seemed to be something more to her underneath that drew peoples' eyes to her. As the girl finished her lunch, she gestured for the innkeeper to approach her.

"I was wondering if you had any vacant single rooms for tonight?"

"Yes, we do. Would you like one of them?"

"Yes, actually, I would."

The rotund man nodded and retrieved a key from behind the bar for her.

"You room number is on the key; it's the second door on your left upstairs."

She nodded her thanks and headed upstairs. Renting the room would allow her to get a night's rest without having to keep one eye open; that way she'd be fully rested when she started out the next day.

"Hurry up, scum! Yor to finish this field afore noon an Ole Hermann's afore sundown."

The speaker was a man of about thirty, dressed in ragged pants and an old, filthy, blue shirt; he also had on a weatherworn, black hat and was holding a long, leather whip coiled in his right hand. As he spoke, he lashed out with it. It struck a figure dressed in what were basically rags. The figure barely flinched in response to the whip striking his already bloody back; he, for it was a he, merely continued plowing the field. He knew that if he didn't finish his work, he'd get a lot worse than a mere whipping.

Slavery was not uncommon in the realms of man even after the War of the Ring, and though it was outlawed within the borders of Gondor, what with the government being as limited as it was and many of the villages and towns being as far-flung as they were, there was no one to control what happened in these places, but if you took a closer look at the figure plowing the field you would see something that was definitely not common in this part of the world.

She had just finished taking a hot bath and had stepped downstairs to explore the village a little when a young man of about twenty years of age stepped up to her.

"Greetins miss, it twould be my honor to show you round, if'n you'd like."

She smiled and nodded; her blue eyes studying him intently as she did.

"Wats yor name?"

"Please, call me Laindessiel. What is your name?"

"Tis Gabriel, but round hereabouts I'm called Gabe. You gots a real purty name there."

"Thank you, and it's nice to meet you Gabe."

"Nice ta meet you too."

He offered her his arm, but she skillfully sidestepped it, swallowing a grimace as she did. He led her throughout the village pointing out anything that he thought might be of interest to her. It was obvious that he was attracted to her and wanted more from her than friendship, not that he was the only one. 'Sorry, but you aren't going to get anything from me.' It was when he was walking her past a freshly plowed field when she heard it, the sound of a whip crack. There was no mistaking it. She knew what a whip crack sounded like; she'd probably know it even if she were unconscious. She kept her veneer calm, though her heart was beating a mile a minute; after all, it could just be someone whipping some horses or oxen, but she had to be sure. As they passed a group of children, she formulated a plan.

"Gabe, isn't there somewhere we can go that's..a little more private," she asked in a flirtatious voice, running her right hand up his arm suggestively.

"Well, sure; how bout the barn here?"

Laindessiel fought the urge to vomit from his body odor as she forced herself to stand closer to him; she even went so far as to lightly press her body against his. From the redness of his face, he appeared ready to explode if she did anything more than that.

"Won't you show me?"

"O'course I will"

"Then what are we waiting for?"

His eyes lit up as if he and led her into the barn eagerly. She slid from his grip as soon as they were in the dimly lit space and, giggling coyly, ran to the door on the other side of the building. He laughed and chased after her, obviously thinking she would allow him to catch her. Instead, she threw open the door and ran outside. She froze when she rounded the corner. In front of her was an image that came straight out of her nightmares, literally. A figure huddled on the ground as the whip rose and fell on his shaking and bloody body. His hands were bound in front of him by shackles which were fastened to a post. Sights and sounds from the past assaulted her mind as she stood watching the horrible sight before her.

Tears flooded from her eyes as she watched the sight in front of her; her brother tried to force her not to look, but she refused him. A young boy huddled on the ground shaking in agony and terror as a whip rose and fell on his already bloody body. He wasn't even able to block them; they had tied his hands to a hook set high in the wall, and with each blow, he cried out. She wanted so badly to stop his pain, but her older brothers held her back. Their faces told her that they wanted nothing more than to stop the brutality as well, but they were visitors here, and as such, they had no power. Suddenly, a booming voice commanded the man wielding the whip to stop.

Laindessiel was brought back to the present by the look in the slave's dark eyes; instead of fear, she saw anger and hatred. She realized that he was shaking from rage and not fear. His body was close to breaking, but his soul clearly wasn't. 'His eyes are old and filled with an age of pain and suffering, and yet, he isn't broken.' Then she saw something that made her gasp; his ears weren't the rounded ones of a mortal but the pointed ones of the elves! She had seen few elves in her lifetime but was sure this being was one. Cold anger filled her mind; treating anyone in this manner was terrible, but treating one of the Firstborn in this manner was tantamount to sacrilege.

Please Review!!