This was my first fan fiction effort in almost 14 years. I wrote it mostly between January and April of 2002, long before I knew fanfiction.net existed.
It was the first story I ever ran here and in answer to a challenge by a friend of mine, I am re-submitting it. (Let's see who's right!)
This deals with two made up characters: a human and an elf who make their way to Rivendell…and beyond.
And what I will admit is I never thought I could manipulate the characters of the novels myself because I figured their personalities and actions were pretty much written in stone..…when I started this, I figured this was the ONLY way to write fan fiction: create original characters and put them in someone else's world, avoiding as much as possible any established characters!!. I felt especially nervous having the temerity to include/ write about Elrond….
(And look how long THAT lasted!)
So here then is "Crossing Paths" my first LOTR fan fiction
Valla Torshaw fought like a wildcat, but the grubby mercenary just held her tighter and laughed.
Carried off from the main body of bandits who were now going through the contents of her packs strung about her horse Patty, she and her abductor entered the woods.
Valla screamed louder and continued thrashing.
Luck favored her with an opportunity, for as the bandit tried to set her down, she did two things: bite the arm hard around her neck and stomp with all her might on the bandit's right foot. And she was wearing well-made heavy boots.
The bandit howled and dropped Valla, who ran further into the woods and hid as quickly as she could. Stilling her breathing and not shifting her weight, she crouched in the bushes and waited for pursuit.
Suddenly Patty neighed shrilly and Valla heard the sounds of horses squealing and stamping. "Hold that horse Farger! She's getting away!"
Silently blessing her mount, Valla decided it was enough sound to cover her flight further into the woods.
Using the half moon light shining through the trees, Valla went deeper, not stopping until she reached a small stream. Looking about carefully, she took a few sips and then found a place to hide for the night in a pile of boulders near a still pool.
Assessing her situation, she stared thoughtfully at the water. Well now. She had lost everything. All her tinkering tools, food and water skins, her few clothes and extra cloak, and her dear horse Patty. Laying her head on her knees, she began to shiver in reaction. And it didn't bear thinking of what might have happened to her.
"If only I had waited to travel with those workers going to Barth Farm." She rubbed the back of her head where the flung stone had dropped her on the road. "They warned me. Said there were bandits and I of all people should have known better."
Adjusting her back against the rocks, she attempted to get comfortable. The rise of banditry here on the edge of the Wild was a topic of discussion from one end of the North to the other. Bandits had killed her husband Timman.
Her shivering grew stronger as a chill fell on her. The world grew more and more dangerous these days.
"Well, my luck has got to change now!" Valla thought as she settled into sleep.
Waking to the sounds of splashing in the hour before dawn, she stared at the water's edge. Clamping a hand over her mouth to keep from saying anything out loud, Valla's eyes grew wide. Elves! Three of them, watering their horses. She shivered again. Elves could be perilous companions. They were seldom seen these days and mixed little with other folk. But even frightened, she couldn't look away. The three glimmered softly in the sinking moonlight, talking in Elvish.
Though not understanding the words, Valla could tell by their tone that they were worried about something. "Probably the bandits," she thought.
She sank further into herself as one glanced back. The moonlight glittered in his eyes as he scanned the area. He said something sharp to his companions and then they all moved off across the stream.
Valla stared at them until their glimmer faded completely.
Sighing for the lovely vision they made, she settled back to sleep.
Valla awoke, aching everywhere and carefully got up. Brushing off the twigs and leaves, she stepped down to the water for a drink and a face wash.
She looked ruefully at her reflection in the wavering surface of the stream. Her green eyes peered out of a curtain of waist length wavy hair, which had pulled out of the braid she'd had it in earlier. There were smudges on her small nose and across her pointed chin. She winced at the feel of the icy water as she rubbed her cheeks. But it woke her up completely. Braiding her hair back again, she looked about for anything edible.
She jumped back with a cry and almost slipped into the river when she spied the fevered visage of a young man who sat a few yards away in the roots of an oak.
She stared a moment in silence. He returned her gaze, his glance intense and glittering and not welcoming at all. The sunlight warmed his honey-brown hair and the tips of his ears as he shifted. He was an Elf! Swallowing nervously, she made her way to him. Perhaps the other Elves were looking for him?
The black arrow sticking out of his shoulder was all too visible. "My-my lord? How came you by this?" she knelt and looked at him, raising a tentative hand towards him.
He grasped her hand tightly before she could touch him. "Bandits mistress. Do not touch. I'm afraid it is poisoned and cruelly barbed." He said in accented Common Speech. "Removing it will take great skill." He made to rise, but swayed on his feet. Valla jumped up and caught him as he sank down again.
He carefully pulled his arm out of her grip. His steady look made Valla drop her eyes. Silence reigned until only the stream could be heard.
"Well." She smiled slightly. He was living up to the general impression of elves: aloof, elusive and taciturn. "My name is Valla Torshaw. It seems we have probably run afoul of the same gang of bandits. They took all my belongings, horse, tools and all."
"I am Elemyr of Mirkwood." He offered nothing more.
Sighing, Valla nodded. He was a long way from home, as was she. Getting up she went to fetch him some water in her cupped hands.
At first he made no move towards the water dripping out of her hands, then drank carefully. She brought him three hands full. When she went to get more, he stopped her with a shake of his head. "No more. But my thanks." He awkwardly stood. Tall and supple, he braced himself against the tree. "I must go."
Valla nodded. "Let me help you then. I have no one waiting for me, except a few farmers."
She moved towards his injured side but once again he brushed her off politely. "I can move well enough without you as a crutch." He wavered a bit on his feet, glanced at the sun and set off, lightly crossing the stream before them.
At a loss as to what she should do, she watched him disappear into the under brush.
Standing as still as she could, she heard nothing of his passage.
Shrugging after a minute, she decided to follow the elf, at least, for a little while. Even though he was unfriendly and standoffish, he was badly injured and Valla just couldn't turn her back on him. She couldn't believe he'd get very far without help. Besides, where in this trackless mountain wilderness was he headed? The only towns and villages were in the direction she had come, off the East Road. There was nothing beyond here for over a hundred miles. This part of the Misty Mountains was uninhabited as far as she knew.
And she didn't want to go back to the East Road and meet up with the bandits again either. She stared at the scuffed toes of her boots. What was she going to do? Her life had suddenly been set adrift. There was no one she could turn to help her track down her belongings. And even if she did make it to the nearest town, the bandits would be long gone and untraceable.
That left just the elf. And where was headed in such a hurry? Maybe he knew someone that could help them both. Though more than likely he was delirious and he had gotten turned around. With a wound like that, anything was possible.
But even injured, his stride was longer and quicker than Valla's and she had to trot steadily to follow him.
Luckily they were in a deep narrow ravine that headed straight east towards the mountains so, even though she didn't catch up with him immediately, his direction was easy enough to follow.
Amazed at his stamina, Valla kept an eye out for willow bark and other herbs that could prove useful.
She kept her distance. He had made it quite clear he wanted no interference. But that wasn't to say she couldn't be practical and prepared.
As they had made their way up the long ravine, she kept an eye out for anything edible as well as medicinal: berries, roots, mushrooms. Well, it wasn't quite damp enough for mushrooms, but you never knew. She stuffed her pickings into a large pocket in her trousers.
The ravine was mostly shaded by scrub oak, some pine trees, and an occasional maple or sycamore. There was plenty of water at the moment because of the stream tumbling down its length. But no pools big enough to hold fish, unfortunately.
The weather for early spring was cool, but tolerable and the sun was nice in the open. Valla stopped on a large outcropping overlooking a small waterfall late in the afternoon and looked up into the Misty Mountains, lit by the westering sun. They were still a good 15 miles away. On any other occasion, this would be a lovely day. Timman and she had love crossing the mountains, the landscape always varied, sometimes spectacularly.
Shaking her head, she squinted as she tracked Elemyr's progress a half mile before her. He was still going strong.
By nightfall however, both were ragged with exhaustion: Valla simply because she had eaten little and slept bad and he of course, because of his injury.
She found herself a bank of shrubbery sprouting out of the granite to curl up in above the head of the ravine where Elemyr had finally stopped. Collapsed was closer to the truth.
Valla could see him slumped by a stunted pine, his head bent forward to his chest. It was hard for her not to go up to him; he so desperately needed help. The black arrow fletched with wiry hair was a constant reminder of his condition. Worried, she scrunched down in her makeshift bed of dried leaves and pine needles and watched him until she could not keep her eyes open.
The next day, Elemyr changed direction. Instead of heading due east as he had been, he now was angling off to the north. Valla trudged in his wake, wishing not for the last time, that they would just stop so she could help him.
Past noon, as the two were going up a foaming stream falling over a series of waterfalls, Elemyr slipped and fell into the water and did not move. Valla rushed up the canyon and saw with horror, that he had snapped part of the arrow shaft off, badly jarring his shoulder. Reaching him, she saw he had passed out and slipped half way into a pool, wedged between two rocks.
Biting her lip, Valla braced herself behind him and grabbed him under the arms. Pulling him as carefully as she could to a large flat boulder out of the water, she lay him down. He didn't stir when she made a tentative attempt to pull the arrow out but the arrow 's barbs made it impossible to move. It would have to be cut out, she realized, not relishing the idea.
She sat next to him, keeping his face in shade until the sun went behind the ridge over her shoulder. As the air got cooler, he began to stir. With a sigh, Valla got up and went off into the rocks where she could keep an eye on him.
She knew he would not be happy that she had helped him. Smiling suddenly she realized that Elemyr's pride and dignity were everything to him. Perhaps he felt he had to maintain an aura of aloof strength; to keep up 'Elvish' appearances around her. Perhaps he had never been in such a position of weakness.
Settling her shoulders comfortably amongst the boulders she almost laughed out loud. 'Getting comfortable in rocks!' If Timman could only see her now! She had always complained about sleeping on the ground!
The moon silvered the rocks around her when Valla awoke. Stretching, she saw that her Elvish companion had gone on without her.
Shaking her head, she went down to get a drink. As she put her hand on a small rock to balance at the water's edge, she felt something wiggle out from under her hand and crawl up her arm.
Shaking it vigorously to rid herself of it, she screamed when it bit her above her right elbow. Falling to her knees, she could see by the moonlight a largish spider walking crookedly away, two of its legs broken. The pain made her reel as she moved away from the water and collapsed.
Bright daylight awoke her and her head felt as heavy as a boulder. She half crawled, half walked to the stream and flung her head under a small waterfall. It helped some. Sitting up, she rubbed the water into her face and then gingerly pulled up the sleeve of her tunic. The angry red bite glared like a baleful eye. It was already hard and lumpy and painful to touch. Gathering her strength, she got to her feet and stumbled on up the watercourse. She couldn't let a nasty spider bite stop her from keeping an eye on Elemyr.
On the third day, Valla surprised, finally caught up to him at another water crossing. Elemyr bending over for a drink, swayed and would have fallen yet again had she not rushed forward, grabbed his jerkin and pulled him back.
He lurched before her, trying to stand straight, his eyes dry and feverish.
"Why do you follow me, mistress?" he asked hoarsely. " I have told you I can travel on my own." He rubbed his face, knowing himself to be on the edge of delirium.
"You must stop, my lord." Valla said tiredly. "The two of us have been running rabbit and hounds for three days. And however important your business is, it will do no one any good if you collapse. I have gathered a few herbs to help with your fever. If we can make a fire, I can make tea."
Elemyr blinked slowly. The woman was right. He couldn't go much further without some rest. The poison arrow was slowly overcoming his usually considerable strength and making him weak and uncertain. Nodding in reluctant acquiescence, he allowed her to help him.
They crossed the stream by a fallen log, Valla slogging through the shallow water to give Elemyr her shoulder to use for balance.
Less than an hour's further travel through the woods full of fluttering leaves and sunlight found them at the end of a high ridge. Valla set Elemyr down on a boulder and said, "I'll see if there's a cave we can use."
He nodded and Valla went off to hunt through the rocky outcropping. Elemyr was in a bad way. What were they going to do? Maybe he could tell her where to find help. Eleymr's pace had slowed perceptibly and he had even allowed her to help him over the rough spots. She didn't know how much further he could travel. Or she, for that matter.
The spider bite was a constant irritant, sometimes nigh on overwhelming and at other times just a low dull ache. It seemed to poison all her actions with an undercurrent of sickness and weakness.
A robin singing high in a maple sapling nearby made her pause and listen to its liquid song. Why was she helping this arrogant Elf? What was it that drew her on? She ran her hands through her hair. Would he do the same for her? Or just leave her to her own devices? Shuddering suddenly with a chill, she decided what he would or wouldn't do was not the issue. She, Valla Torshaw, just could not walk away from someone in need.
Near the base of the ridge where the ravine finally ran out into low hillocks, she found what she was looking for. A large boulder sat just in front of a scooped out area going back about six feet into the hill. It would do perfectly. And she had even noticed a spring nearby. Before going back to Elemyr, she gathered bracken to make a bed for him.
Feeling less helpless, she retrieved the silent elf and got him situated in the cave with more arms loads of bracken as a cover.
Squatting in front of the cave and eyeing the weather, which was clouding up, she took a deep breath and patiently set about trying to make a fire.
After a half an hour, Valla was no closer to getting a fire going than she had at the beginning. And the clouds were getting thicker. She sat back, staring angrily at the unlit pile of twigs and bark. The stiffness in her arm made fire starting that much harder.
"Thorns and Roses! We've got to have a fire!" She picked up the rocks, rolled her shoulders and set to work again.
She heard a whisper of sound and found Elemyr kneeling next to her. He held his hand over her small pile of dry twigs, murmured and suddenly there was a little yellow flame wavering in the center. She turned to him chagrined. "I almost had it m'lord! Really! You shouldn't exert yourself."
"Making a fire is not that much work, Mistress Torshaw." Yet he allowed himself to be led back to the cave and settled once more.
Valla got the fire going higher. Satisfied it would not go out, she called, "I shall not be long."
Elemyr had fallen asleep or unconscious so Valla hurried off.
She hunted carefully around the spring and along the rill that flowed out of it gathering a few herbs she could use.
As she walked back, she heard the sound of buzzing and followed it to its source. Honey! And wax!
She stood before the log where the bees went busily in and out and marked its location. A smoking branch would get rid of them and allow her to grab the comb. Her stomach rumbled hungrily.
Smiling, she rushed back to camp, just as the rain began.
As she settled by the fire to get a burning brand, she heard Elemyr stir and sit up. She turned and smiled at him, but the smile dropped into a frown when she heard his mumbling. "How far to Rivendell?" he whispered hoarsely. "If we crossed Holwell Stream, we should have only a few more days march now. Or was it the Mallowbriar we crossed?" Elemyr put his head in his hands. "But I must get Radagast's message to Lord Elrond! There is to be a council meeting shortly…in two-three days time? And Radagast says the information is relevant to all concerned."
Valla wanted to interrupt this anxious flow of talk, but realized Elemyr needed to settle this in his mind and just listened helplessly as he grew more agitated. "Radagast is depending on me and the news I carry!" He brought a hand to his injured shoulder, his face drained of color. "The dark things of Mirkwood, normally quiet and secretive are becoming bolder and more numerous!" He looked at Valla, his intense eyes practically glowing in the dim half-light. He reached a hand out to her and she came closer. "Many of them are going South, heedless of who sees them, where rumors of a Dark Lord rise in frequency. Radagast captured one of these foul creatures who told him, reluctantly, of the Darkness rising in the South. In Mordor."
"Mordor?" Valla said uncertainly. An old children's scary tale hovered at the edge of memory. But before she could remember, Elemyr continued with his story "If I had not been waylaid by the bandits in the Misty Mountains and dragged off to the west towards Bree I could be in Rivendell by now!"
Elemyr shivered suddenly and looked longingly at the small fire burning outside the cave. "Thank Elendil for you, Mistress Torshaw. You have proved to be endlessly resourceful."
Embarrassed by this unexpected praise, Valla changed the subject quickly. "Lord Elemyr, I've found bees! And honey! I shall be right back!" She ran off gratefully with a burning branch.