Since so many people loved my other x-over here is another one. I put it in King Arthur because even though it starts in the LOTR realm it winds up in the King Arthur Realm, so yeah.
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Summary: The Eye of Sauron sees farther then anyone could have imagined, the Shadow of the Dark Lord streaching farther then anyone could have ever known. The Fellowship is about to find out how far the reach of Sauron really is. Gandalf only saw the effects the Dark Lord Sauron was having on Middle-Earth, but what about the lands that lay beyond Mordor? What if there was a vast body of water just beyond the edges of the map and over that vast body of water layed a land called Britian? And in Britian, a man called Arthur was leading his knights in the service of the Roman Empire.
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Faramir sits in his little corner in Henneth Annun, thinking out the Hobbits just a few rooms away, and of what they carry with them. He sighs as he stands up and walks to an opening in the wall. Walking through the opening, he steps out onto a small ledge. Faramir scans the land and sky before him. Stars twinkling brightly, beautifully, coldly. The land dark as the moon with the fires of Mt. Doom glowing just beyond the horizion, lighting up the mountain range in front of it. Taking a breath of air, he turns and walks back into the cavern. He stands there, softly silloutted by the starlight and the dim glow of Mt. Doom beyond the horizion. Seconds pass before he turns left and walks down the hallway. Turning right, soon he comes upon to other Rangers. They salute him as he walks past them and into the room where Frodo and Sam lay resting.
Frodo stirs once, before he opens his eyes and sits up. He looks at Faramir and states, "I don't really sleep these days."
Faramir nods and says, "Walk with me, Frodo."
It was Frodo's turn to nod. He carefully moves so Sam does not wake. Standing up, Frodo follows Faramir out of the room and down the hallway. Turning and twisting, Frodo pays no attention to where they are going, he doesn't care. He knows that if Faramir wanted the Ring, he could have taken it awhile ago. He believed what Faramir said about not wanting to use the Ring for anything, even if it was just last night that he said it. They come to a room with a wooden table, two wooden chairs and a candle burning bright. On the table there was a bowl with some fruit in it, there was also a pitcher of water and two cups. Faramir sits down in a chair and motions for Frodo to take the other. He does. Faramir clasps his hands together and puts his chin on them.
"I wanted to talk to you alone, Frodo." Faramir says, "It concerns the fate of Middle-Earth."
"And what concerns are those?" Frodo asks.
Faramir sighs gently and give Frodo a stern look.
"I fear that something is going to happen to you and the Ring if you were to enter Mordor alone."
Upon hearing the word 'Ring', one of Frodo's hands fly to his chest and his fingers wrap around the Ring through his shirt.
"And what do you plan on doing about it?" Frodo asks cautiously, eyeing Faramir warily.
Faramir laughs quietly, as if reading his mind.
"Do not worry, little Hobbit, I have no intentions of taking the Ring from you."
"Then what are your intentions?"
"My intentions are to go against my father, the Steward of Gondor, and come with you."
Frodo's eyes widen at Faramir's declaration.
"You would forfeit your life to come with Sam and I to Mordor?"
"My life was forfeited to moment I said you could leave."
Frodo opens his mouth to say something but is cut off as Faramir stands up and says, "We should get you back before Sam wakes up and thinks I have done something foul to you."
"That sounds like something Sam would think." Frodo agrees as he too stands up, "I'll think about what you said, about you coming with us."
As they walk back to the room, Faramir walks slightly behind Frodo with a small smirk on his face.
They reach the room and once again the guards salute, as Faramir enters with Frodo. Faramir makes sure Frodo lies down before saying,
"There is nothing to think about. I'm coming with whether you like it or not."
Frodo sits back up as Faramir's words reach his ears. He watches as Faramir turns and walks out of the room. Frodo blinks and lays down, hoping that Faramir doesn't turn out like Boromir in the end. Closing his eyes, he can only wait for morning to come.
Sam lays perfectly still listening to the words that Faramir has spoken. He stares at the wall ahead of him as the light of the lantern of the guards in the hallway flickers and dances with the shadows on the wall.
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A battle is waging. A group of men dressed in armor fight furiously against a group of men that are painted blue and dressed in very little clothing. The blue-painted men are fairing poorly against the armored men. The last blue-painted man falls as the men in armor relax and regroup. One man, dress slightly finer then the rest, gathers his men around him and says,
"My knights, once again you have fought well for Rome. Once again you live one day closer to gaining your freedom. Come let us return to the Wall for a well earned rest."
The knights nod at this as a smile graces the lips of some. They go to where their horses wait and get on them. They ride north towards the Wall, finished with the rebels that have ventured so far south. As the Wall is seen just a head of the knights, one of them, a wild looking man, lets out a sharp whistle and in response to it, a hawk lets out a screech as it makes a slow descent to the wild looking man who has called it. It lands gently upon his raised arm.
"And where have you been?" he asks the hawk.
A bald, short man looks at him and says, "Tristan, you need a woman so you won't talk to the bird."
Tristan casts a glance at him before turning back to the hawk and whispers, "Don't listen to him. Bor is just jealous."
Tristan then gently scratches the hawks beak. Everyone just shakes their head at him. But not one of them notices an old man just inside a small grove of trees nestled on a hill top. The old man, painted blue, stands there as the trees seem to take on a life of their own as the leaves and branches move to a non-existent wind. The painted old man lays a hand softly upon the trunk of the tree closes to him, as if to soothe it.
"Soon, my friend. Soon all will come full circle." He whispers in a foreign tongue.
And at once, the trees, as if understanding, calms and they stop shaking their branches and rustling their leaves. He lets out a sigh as a mist creeps its way between the trees and around the man's feet. The mist, seemingly of its own will, begins to crawl up him until finally it compeletly engulfs him. Then the mist falls away leaving nothing where the man once stood. Just as the mist creeps back in between the trees, Tristan turns and looks towards the small grove. He sees nothing but trees. He shrugs and returns his focus to his bird.
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Gandolf emerges from the mines of Moria no longer Gandolf the Grey, but now Gandolf the White, robes shining brightly in the light. He begins makes his way to the Hall of Lord Theoden, king of Rohan.
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Daylight breaks in the East, but no one notices as the sun tries to break through the dark clouds that have stretch their way over the land. Three figures, a Dwarf, a Elf and a Man, can be seen making their way across the land, cloaks flying behind them as they run over the hills and plains of Rohan. Hardly stopping, they travel in search for their lost compainions, while on their way to the Hall of Lord Theoden, hoping against hope that their compainions have winded up there.
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So what do you think?? Keep going or trash it? Your choice, choose wisely.