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Rings
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Chapter One: The Cave
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Number 6 Cheeseman Street
Summersea, Emelan
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There was always something going on at Number 6 Cheeseman Street. Sometimes a passerby would see a little glass dragon flitting around, or a stray vine waving out a window. Anyone who lived in the neighborhood would have thought these occurrences everyday affairs, for Number 6 Cheeseman Street was the fulltime home of three young mages, and the part-time home of their foster sister.
The four mages had been friends for ten years, ever since the mage Nikalren Goldeye had brought them to Winding Circle Temple to learn to use their unique magics. They had lived at a cottage called Discipline, mothered by Dedicates Lark and Rosethorn, until they were old enough to set out on their own adventures.
Trisana Chandler was a weather witch. Sometimes she could be seen on the roof of the house, reveling in a rainstorm or gazing into the wind. Tris was a short, plump young woman. She wore her red hair in a great many braids, all varied in size, and pinned back in a heavy silk net. Anyone who knew her knew that the braids were her unique way of controlling her powers. Her eyes were the color of a stormy sea. They were usually hidden behind tinted spectacles, which also masked most of her freckles.
At twenty, Briar Moss was the oldest of the bunch. His magic was with plants. Tall and lean with glossy black hair and jade eyes, Briar caught the attention of many a girl, though his housemates seemed to be immune to his charms. The handsome young man sported bronze skin, broad shoulders, and a sensitive face. At first glance, Briar's wrists and hands looked to be covered with colorful tattoos. The flowers and vines were actually living beneath his skin, growing and changing, the results of a childhood experiment with vegetable dyes.
Until she was orphaned and came to Winding Circle, Daja Kisubo was a Trader. She was tall and broad shouldered, and so well suited to her work as a blacksmith. Her magic was with metals and fire, and the palm and back of her left hand was covered in a sort of living metal, the last remnant of her Trader staff. Her dark hair was sectioned off into little braids, which she wore pinned behind her neck.
Sandrilene fa Toren was the house's part-time resident. Sandry's uncle, Duke Vedris IV was the ruler of Emelan, and she lived at Duke's Citadel to look after him and his household. At eighteen years old, Sandry was a beauty. Her long brown hair was silky and smooth, and she liked to wear it neatly braided and pinned. The girl's eyes were kind and brown, and her clothes were always immaculate. Sandry was a stitch witch; her magic dealt with cloth and thread.
On this particular afternoon, Sandry was sitting in Briar's workroom. She'd spent the morning avoiding her uncle's sons. Both of them were bleat-brained, and though Sandry herself didn't believe it, it was widely rumored that the Duke would change his will and leave her as his heir. So Sandry went to visit her former student, Pasco Alcalon, who was now in the Provost's Guards.
When she had exhausted that activity, Sandry continued on to the home of her brother and sisters, though they all seemed to be busy working at their own tasks.
Left.
Briar was working with his shakkans. He had sold two of them, and was trying to get them ready for their new homes.
Right.
However Sandry was distracting. She was unoccupied at the moment, but for a gold chain with a little emerald bobble at the end. It was the kind of jewelry Briar knew only a bag would own.
Left. Right.
Sandry was intent on swinging the necklace back and forth. She'd been at it for the better part of an hour. The effect of the shiny metal was giving Briar a headache.
Left-Right. Left-Right.
Briar groaned. He reached out and grabbed the necklace from Sandry's hands, stopping it.
"What?" Sandry bristled.
"Eight-nine," Briar began. "You've swung that thing back and forth eighty-nine times. Why don't you find something better to do?"
"I was under the impression that there would be something exciting to do here," Sandry said loftily. "With Uncle's sons visiting, I'm bored to tears at Duke's Citadel. Forgive me if I thought my own brother and sisters would entertain me."
"Some of us have to work for a living, Duchess," he snapped, coaxing a little bend in a young tree.
"You don't either," Sandry mumbled, swinging the pendant again. Briar grabbed the necklace and placed it on the far side of his table.
"Then I've found a hobby I enjoy. Go get some of your blasted embroidery or something," he said shortly.
"Briar, please? It's lovely outside. Let's go riding for a little while. I haven't gotten much fresh air since we returned from Namorn."
"Fine," Briar relented. "If you can pry Daja away from the forge, and Tris out of her library, I will go hiking with you, silly girl."
Sandry leaped up and kissed his cheek. Briar waved her off, and Sandry left the room.
"Finally, some peace," he said to his plants.
Thank you! Sandry called through their magical bond. Briar groaned again and got back to work.
It took some convincing on Daja's side, but Sandry did manage to get both her sisters away from their afternoon activities. Tris readily put aside her book, claiming that she could use a break.
I win, Master Moss, Sandry called as she saddled his horse for him. Come along.
The four rode carefully out of the city. They set a leisurely pace, intending to thoroughly enjoy their ride. Sandry led them out to the beach, galloping at a steady pace. She was grinning, and even Briar had to admit that this was a good idea. Tris trotted along happily, the glass dragon, Chime, sitting on her lap.
When they saw all the shells that littered the ground, they dismounted, walking and collecting pretty pieces of glass. They kept their boots on; the water was too cold to go barefoot.
"Evvy would like this one," Briar said, thinking of his former student as he held up a black-and-white shell that looked like a cat's paw.
Daja reached down and collected a big handful of sea foam, putting her nose close to it.
"Heavenly! I love this smell," she said leisurely. "It makes me think of all the summers I spent on Third Ship Kisubo when I was a kid." Daja used the slang word Briar had taught her for "children." She bent down to sniff the sea foam, but suddenly a hand pushed her head down. Daja looked up, wearing a moustache and beard of foam. Sandry was grinning, trying to appear innocent.
I'll get you, Daja told her. The four seemed to forget that they were no longer children as they raced down the beach, Chime fluttering about them. They splashed water, foam, and sand at each other, conversing inside their heads all the while. It felt like the old days.
So much like the old days, in fact, that none of them noticed how far they'd gotten until they raced into a cavern. Their laughter died down a little, and Sandry pulled out the light crystal that the others had made for her.
"You don't need that," Daja said, looking further into the cave. Around a bend, there was a steady glow. Without warning, the light surged around the four mages, covering them so completely that they didn't even see each other. Wind rushed about their ears, and they felt dizzy, but within a second it was all over.
Daja's sight recovered from the bright lights faster than that of the others. They were standing in a dense forest. Tris, who had pulled up her spectacles and was rubbing her eyes, heard a voice on a breeze.
"Look Frodo. It's Mr. Bilbo's trolls."
Where are we? Briar asked through their magical connection.
Not in Emelan, that's for sure, Daja said.
Go back through the cave! Briar ordered.
We can't. It's gone! Tris retorted.
"Mr. Frodo? He's going cold!" It was the same voice Tris had heard before.
What was that? Daja asked uncertainly.
There's a group of people nearby; I saw them on the wind. Tris said. There's a man and four children- no that's not right. They're little men. They look like they're our age, but they're not much taller than Little Bear. The man is armed, and one of the little ones is hurt.
Slowly the four mages stepped forward. They stepped around a large rock and saw three large shapes.
Sandry screamed.
Each one was a large body with limbs that reached from their shoulders to the ground. Their faces were broad and mean, open in growls and war cries. But what Sandry didn't realized was that they were still.
It's just stone, Sandry! Daja insisted. Like the statue of Duke Vedris in Summersea.
Hush! Tris said shortly, disentangling Chime from the hood of her jacket. The group of people looked up in horror.
"Quiet! They're after us!" cried one of the small people. The man strode over to Sandry in two long steps.
"Quiet, girl, for pity's sake!" he said, putting a hand over Sandry's mouth.
"Take your hands off of me! My uncle will have you arrested!"
"Now may not be the best time to go all noble," Briar insisted, stepping between his friend and the stranger.
"You'll find it's quite wasted on me," the man said. "Who are you, to find us in the woods?"
"I'm Briar Moss, a green mage," Briar said diplomatically. "These are my sisters, Sandry, Daja, and Tris. They're mages too. We come from Summersea in Emelan. We don't want to hurt you. We don't even know where we are."
"There's no Emelan in Middle Earth," the man said. "How do I know you're not making it up?"
"We have mages's medallions from Winding Circle temple, where we studied," Daja offered, taking hers out. The man looked at the piece metal.
"This will have to do for proof. You will come with us to Rivendell. We must be quick."
"I won't be ordered about by a stranger," Sandry said loftily. "What's your name?"
"Strider!" Three of the little men were gathered around the other. He was gasping for air, obviously hurt. The man turned to his companions.
"I guess I'll call you Strider," Sandry called after him, pride wounded. Her foster siblings ignored her watching the little men.
"What happened?" Briar queried.
"Is he going to die?" asked one of the little people.
"He's passing into the shadow world," Strider said. "He'll soon become a Wraith."
The wounded young man gasped in pain. Briar went to his side.
What's a wraith? Sandry asked. Are they worse than those horrid trolls?
I don't know Sandry. Calm down, Daja said, putting an arm around her friend's shoulders.
How do we know we can trust him? Tris asked coolly.
What choice do we have? Daja pointed out. We could wander in these woods forever, or we could follow the man out. Once we're in Rivenfell, or wherever he said, we'll try to find a way home.
"Sam, do you know the Athelas plant?" Strider said to one of the short men. Sam looked confused, so Strider used another name for the herb. "Kingsfoil. It may help slow the poisoning."
"I know the one," Briar said, trotting off into the woods with the man called Sam. Strider bent down over his injured companion again. From what seemed like out of no where, a blade rested at his throat.
"What's this? A ranger, caught off his guard?" a female voice said, almost teasingly. This woman was beautiful, with long brown hair and blue eyes. Her face was smooth and slender. She dressed in a gray riding gown and carried a fine bowed long sword. Her most unique characteristic was the graceful ways that her ears came to points.
The man smiled briefly at her.
"Arwen. We are in need of your help," he said plainly. She knelt beside the wounded man, whispering to him in a language that the four mages didn't understand.
She's an elf! Tris sounded triumphant. I've read about them, but I didn't think they really existed. Do you realize what a find this is? I mean if it-
Later, Coppercurls, Briar interrupted. The elf stood, getting the small man onto her horse. She and Strider had a quiet argument about who would ride with the boy, and in the end, Arwen galloped away.
"What now?" asked Sam.
"Now we walk," Strider said. He turned to the four mages. "And you tell us more."
"You first," Sandry said. She looked down at Sam. "I don't mean to be rude, but what are you?"
"We're hobbits," said one of the hobbits.
"From the Shire," added the last hobbit.
Hobbits from the Shire, Tris told her friends. Those I haven't heard of.
"I'm Samwise Gamgee," Sam said. He was the plumpest of the hobbits, and his curls were a honey-brown color. "And these two blockheads are Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took."
"Merry and Pippin," Merry clarified, pointing to himself first and then his friend. Merry was a little taller than Pippin, and his hair was blond, while Pippin sported more of a reddish-brown color.
"And you are?" Pippin asked, taking Sandry's arm.
"I'm Sandrilene fa Toren of Summersea," Sandry said, gazing oddly at the hobbit beside her. "I have magic with threads and yarns."
"That's very impressive," Merry said, taking her other arm. He offered her a small sack. "Mushroom?"
Sandry looked back at her friends. Help?!
As far as I'm concerned, you brought this upon yourself, Duchess, Briar said, snickering as he passed by with Sam.
"How far is it to Rivendell?" Tris asked, falling in beside Daja.
"Three days or so," Strider answered passively.
Over the next few days, Strider lead them through the woods, and up a steep incline. The ranger was quiet and thoughtful, always listening to the world around him. He was the exact opposite of the hobbits. They chattered, though Sam seemed lost without Mr. Frodo, the injured hobbit.
Merry and Pippin made a grand show of helping Sandry along. They did whatever they could for her, offering hands to steady her or food to fill her up. Briar, Tris, and Daja found this highly amusing, though Sandry was less than thrilled.
By morning on the fourth day, no one was cheerful. The hobbits were always hungry, and they constantly pestered Strider to stop for meals. Sandry confided to her friends that she could not bear to spend ten more minutes with lovesick hobbits. Just when she thought she would snap at Merry if he offered another mushroom, the ranger stopped abruptly.
"We are there," Strider announced. They travelers overlooked a ravine filled with trees of all colors. Nestled on the mountainside was a little village. The white wood forms were elegant, open structures, making it look like a fairytale setting.
"It's beautiful," Sandry whispered.
"It is," Strider agreed. "Come, it's but an hour from here."
Strider was right about this. Within the hour, they passed through the gates of the village.
A tall elf with dark hair and flowing red robes greeted them.
"Welcome to Rivendell," he said with a smile.
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AN: Welcome to my new story! I hope you've enjoyed the first chapter. I didn't want to give away the suprise, so I put my author's note at the end this time. I really enjoyed writing this today. I was watching "The Fellowship of the Ring," and it just sort of popped into my head. I'm going strictly by the LOTR movies, because I haven't read all of the books. So please don't review to tell me that it happened this way in the book- because it happened this way in the movies. I'm assuming more people have seen the movies than read the books, anyways.
Also the scene where they go into the cave-- kind of seems like Narnia, right? Well, I've been reading "Prince Caspian" in anticipation for the new movie, and it is going to be good. I can't wait!
That being said, I'd love feedback on the story. There are ways that the Circle can help the Fellowship, and I intend to bring them out in future chapters. Do you like Sandry's first admirers? Is anyone out of character? Do you have suggestions, or even questions? Please let me know.
Disclaimer: I do not claim rights to any of the characters of Tamora Pierce's books. I also have no claim on any of the characters from the Lord of the Rings, even Legolas. I'm just taking them out to play for awhile. How else am I supposed to amuse myself?
Disclaimer applies to all chapters.