Author's Note
Hi, I'm ringtailpossum and this is my second fanfiction. I am sorry that I am starting another story while 'A Star Trapped in Heaven' is not finished. I do plan on finishing it, but unfortunately the computer that I was writing it on has now got a broken keyboard, so I am using another computer to write this one.
This is a crossover between Wolfblood and Lord of the Rings. Frankly, I am disappointed there aren't more of these. To let you know, this story follows the events of Lord of the Rings and I am using my own wolfblood characters, not Maddy or Rhydian. It is more of a history of wolfbloods in Middle Earth. Also, it is not a romance. In any shape or form. There may be some slight pairing at the end with my own characters, but this is an adventure/ action story. My goal is to create a really believable character. I am planning to making this a long story, but I am kind of inconsistent with updating. Sorry.
I hope you enjoy my story!
Foreword
A legend is known among wolfbloods. A legend so old and fanciful that many feel that any truth in it has been lost to time. A legend older than the recollection of humans, from the time when many strange and wonderful creatures roamed the land, from Elves, Dwarves, Orcs, Wargs, Wizards, Hobbits, Ents and of course, wolfbloods. The legend goes that in a time wolfbloods thrived yet sill lived in fear of other races becoming aware of their existence, a brave wolfblood, Rowan Firstalpha rose up. He bridged the void between wolfbloods and others, becoming the alpha of the first pack to live among Men and other races. The first 'tame' pack, some would say, but truly the bravest pack as they shared strength and knowledge, and received much in return. In his honour, 'tame' packs are even now still called a 'Rowanspack'.
This tale, however, is not a recount of the well-known and largely exaggerated legend. This tale is the true story of Rowan, son of Ronir, barely more than a cub when he found himself with no choice but to become an outcast and a traitor, not a majestic alpha leading all wolfbloods to a brighter life. Trapped in the middle of a war, desperately trying to protect his sister, he was plagued with the constant fear that is familiar to modern wolfbloods: The fear of his identity being discovered.
Prologue
It was a cold night. Wind howled around the cloaked figure and attempted to tear away his cloak, long grey beard, hat and any other vaguely loose item. The bitter cold dug into the hunched shape, cutting right through his layers of clothing. It was a bad night to visit the wolfblood clans and he could smell rain creeping on the horizon, moving swiftly over the land.
Gandalf leaned against his staff, bracing himself from the biting cold. No, it was not a good night to be visiting the wolf clans, he observed, looking towards the sky to see the glint of the full moon peeking through the dense cloud cover. He would not have come unless it had been extremely urgent. A war was coming. He would need every ally he could muster.