A/N: hey peeps! Uh......... *starts to sweat* erm, okay, this is me first
LotR fic, its a Bookverse/Movieverse crossover, so, ehm... also a AU b/c I
am not sure as to how to write a few members of the Fellowship *cough* so
Gandalf left with Galadriel, Boromir is dead *dur* and that's that... so,
uh, BE NICE!!!!! I'm not partial to flamers, but if I get one then I'll
post it along with my comments. Rest-assured, the flamer WILL be
embarrassed. Now that I'm done with that, um, I really, really, really like
Constructive Criticism. One doesn't have to review, if they don't wish...
it's not like I completely *live* off of reviews... but as of mentioned
before, a Beta-reader/Constructive Criticism will be welcomed open-palmed!
I want to fix as many mistakes as possible, see. Oh, and in my AU Elves can
get sick and all of that good stuff in the first twenty years of their
lives, then they become "fully immortal" as I put it.
Whew, long Author's Note!
Heh.
Disclaimer: EVERYTHING that has to do with, or IS in general LotR belongs to the Esteemed J.R.R. Tolkien, whom I worship *drools on Tolkien's shoes* and his family, or so I've gathered. I (think I) own this plot, and a few OCs that every story has. Lol. =] that's it.
Summery: hmm. how to summarize something and completely give it away in a few sentences? Lol, actually, the Fellowship all get ready for a "reunion" (sound familiar?) at Rivendell (A/N: oh yeah, and in MY AU [somewhat] the whole lot of the elves aren't leaving/gone, though I did get rid of Galadriel, and Legsy is still living in/the Prince of Mirkwood. Mirkwood is STILL Mirkwood b/c Greenwood the Great is too long a title and I'm lazy.) where was I? Oh, shoot. Uh, reunion at Rivendell, oh yes! But a certain blond Elf doesn't show up, a messenger from Mirkwood does saying that Elrond's healing skills are needed for their youngest Prince. DUN DUUN DUUUUUNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!! *ominous drums start up in background* I don't know if there'll be pairings or not - but if there are, I'm thinking along the lines of an L/A or something. Give me input on this!!!
Would ya lookit that! I managed to get my summery well over a few sentences and not give away the story at the same time! Gosh, I suck.
Chapter Started: 4/11/03 Chapter Finished: 4/11/03
.
Third Person POV, Mirkwood, three weeks before Chapter One
.
the healer replaced the cloth on the prince's brow with a new one, taking his pulse and temperature while doing so. He shook his head and looked at the three Elves standing before him. The biggest, and most important, Lord Thranduil. Next to him, his first born son Elrymbor, and between the two, a young Elf-maiden by the name of Anythiel, Princess of Mirkwood.
"Well?" Thranduil questioned impatiently. "What ails him?"
the healer paused. "I know not, at the moment," he said at last. "We all know very well that Elves can only catch sickness in the first twenty years of their life, so..." he paused. "I would like to monitor him, see if he does or doesn't get better. If his temperature goes up any higher or he is still not well within three weeks, then send a messenger to the Healer of Rivendell."
"But he's got to go to a special meeting in three weeks in Rivendell!" Anythiel burst out. She shut up when her eldest brother laid a hand on her shoulder.
"He will most likely be better by then," the healer replied. "But as of now, I wish to further my inspections on him, and when he wakes there is much I have to ask him," another pause. "I apologize for any inconvenience, My Lords and Lady."
"Nay, nay," Thranduil replied distractedly, "Do not apologize unless he takes a turn for the worse. Leaving him in your care, I have many duties to see to," he turned and left.
Elrymbor sighed and bowed stiffly to the healer. "I, also, have many duties to see to." He left.
Anythiel gazed at her brother's more-pale-than-usual complexion, became acutely aware of his labored breathing and the sweat the trickled down his brow. She watched a small tear roll its way down his cheek and drip onto the pillow.
That did it.
Anythiel fled the healers' rooms.
.
.
.
Rivendell, three weeks later *snort*
.
"Welcome, Masters Peregrin, Meriadoc, Samwise and Frodo," Elrond greeted as the four Hobbits dismounted their ponies. "It has been a long time, has it not?"
"It has," Frodo agreed quietly. "too long."
"I heard that there's going to be a big feast!" Pippin burst out. "When's it start, huh? Huh? Huh? I'm hungry!"
"Me too!" Merry put in.
Sam didn't say anything, just smiled.
Elrond laughed. "It starts when Legolas gets here," he said with a smile. "and that should be soon, unless he wishes to be bombarded with four angry Hobbits."
They all laughed at that one.
Inside the dining room, a large assortment of Elves sat. also there was Gimli, Aragorn, Arwen, and the accompaniment of men that had come with their King and Queen. The four Hobbits joined the table, so that six members of the Fellowship sat there. Gandalf had passed over the seas with Galadriel, and Boromir was dead. Legolas still hadn't arrived.
"Great! When do we eat? Its dark outside, so he obviously isn't going to be here any time early! Let's eat!" Pippin had to repeat this a few times before he caught anybody's attention.
"Yea perhaps he will not be joining us on time this night," Elrond said to the quieted hall and standing. "So therefore I am certain that Legolas will not mind if we start without him - he should be here soon, anyway, and this meal should most likely go on into the night," he smiled at them all. "so let's eat!"
and the festivities began!
The remaining members of the Fellowship that were present attempted to eat and talk at the same time to each other. It had been a long time since they had seen each other.
"So how fares Gondor, My Lord?" asked Frodo through a mouthful of mashed potato. Aragorn smirked, "Oh, fine as ever. But these pesky guards keep following us everywhere - really. I have been feeling as though I were trapped in a cage as of late!"
Arwen laughed, almost choking on her green beans.
"And what of you, Gimli?" asked Merry. "having fun digging in your mountain? angered any Dragons yet?"
Gimli snorted. "No, not yet. Everything fares well - and you Hobbits, what's been going on with you four, hmm?"
"Sam's Rosie is expecting a little bundle of joy soon!" Pippin burst out before anybody could stop him. Including himself.
"Congratulations!" Arwen burst out back before anybody could stop her. Including herself. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"
"No," Sam replied in a much higher voice than usual - he was blushing furiously. "not yet."
Aragorn smiled. "I echo my wife's words - I bet you'll be busy!"
"When?" Gimli asked.
" 'nother couple of months," Sam said. Seeing that this was a rather embarrassing topic for his companion, Frodo changed the subject.
"I wonder what could be taking Legolas so long," he said. "he got the letter invitation about the same time we did, and he said that he'd leave two weeks early so he could be here at the same time as all of us."
" 'tis curious indeed," Gimli mused. "he's more the type to be coming early, I am thinking."
"Mayhap he was delayed," Aragorn suggested. But they were all a little worried.
So the evening continued like this, and very few noted the dripping wet messenger as he rushed in. they did all notice him, though, when they heard his dripping foot steps (must be raining outside, they all concluded) and he whispered urgently to Elrond, looking rather frantic.
Elrond stood, and the hall became quiet. "No, please, continue," he laughed. "I have important matters to attend to, and I'll join the lot of you shortly."
That was enough, and everybody went back to their chattering and eating. But Aragorn stood.
"Aragorn, where are you going?" Merry asked.
"that messenger wore the colors of Mirkwood," Aragorn replied. There was a moment's silence, then all six were darting out of the hall to the door Elrond and the wet messenger had disappeared behind.
Meanwhile, the panting elf was attempting to explain everything to the Lord without taking a breath, evidence of his hurry and his near hysterical state.
After Elrond had forced him to sit down in front of the warm fire in his study, wrapped up in a blanket, and caught his breath, the messenger began again, more coherently this time. "My Lord Elrond," he said. "our youngest prince has falled deathly ill, about a week ago. I left to come here as soon as I could, I,"
But Elrond cut him off. "tell me everything, from the beginning," he said.
The messenger took another deep breath, and forced himself to breathe normally. This took about five minutes.
"three weeks ago," he started, "our youngest prince became ill. It was a mystery as to why, as elves do not get ill, so the head healer said he would examine him, and if he took a turn for the worse he'd send a messenger here to contact the Healer of Imladris," a deep, calming breath. "then, a week ago I guess, he became deathly ill. Inches from the Halls of Mandos. I was sent here to you - My Lord, I have been traveling day and night, and it has taken me a week still to come! I fear for the prince's life." He forced himself to stand. "please! You must come now, and help us, Lord Elrond, I beg of thee!"
Elrond laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I will help," he said. "but you need rest."
"but," the messenger started, but Elrond pushed him firmly down.
"I will go with my best healers at hand this night," he said. "you may follow after you've had a good night's rest and a couple of good, square meals. In fact, why don't you get changed and join the feast. I must prepare."
It was right then that the six burst into the room, demanding news from Mirkwood.
So Elrond told them (as the messenger had fallen asleep) and, of course, they all demanded to come.
So they all went off to prepare (the Hobbits still hadn't unpacked, so they went directly to the ding hall to eat more) and Arwen said that she'd like to come, but she wanted to spend more time with her brothers Elladan and Elrohir.
Say.... About an hour later, they were all situated in the pouring rain outside on ponies and horses, two other healers with Elrond.
Off they went!
TO MIRKWOOD!!!!!!!!
.
.
.
.
..
. . .
. . .
.
.
.
. .
.
.
.
.
.
.
A/N: sorry for the short chapter. I guess that it doesn't matter that much, though, but hey... it's my first LotR fic... go easy on my, k? I really do appreciate Constructive Criticism. :) I'll go start the next chapter now. :D bye-ee for now!
RePost!!!!! Thank you for constructive criticism!!!!!
Whew, long Author's Note!
Heh.
Disclaimer: EVERYTHING that has to do with, or IS in general LotR belongs to the Esteemed J.R.R. Tolkien, whom I worship *drools on Tolkien's shoes* and his family, or so I've gathered. I (think I) own this plot, and a few OCs that every story has. Lol. =] that's it.
Summery: hmm. how to summarize something and completely give it away in a few sentences? Lol, actually, the Fellowship all get ready for a "reunion" (sound familiar?) at Rivendell (A/N: oh yeah, and in MY AU [somewhat] the whole lot of the elves aren't leaving/gone, though I did get rid of Galadriel, and Legsy is still living in/the Prince of Mirkwood. Mirkwood is STILL Mirkwood b/c Greenwood the Great is too long a title and I'm lazy.) where was I? Oh, shoot. Uh, reunion at Rivendell, oh yes! But a certain blond Elf doesn't show up, a messenger from Mirkwood does saying that Elrond's healing skills are needed for their youngest Prince. DUN DUUN DUUUUUNNNNNNN!!!!!!!!!! *ominous drums start up in background* I don't know if there'll be pairings or not - but if there are, I'm thinking along the lines of an L/A or something. Give me input on this!!!
Would ya lookit that! I managed to get my summery well over a few sentences and not give away the story at the same time! Gosh, I suck.
Chapter Started: 4/11/03 Chapter Finished: 4/11/03
.
Third Person POV, Mirkwood, three weeks before Chapter One
.
the healer replaced the cloth on the prince's brow with a new one, taking his pulse and temperature while doing so. He shook his head and looked at the three Elves standing before him. The biggest, and most important, Lord Thranduil. Next to him, his first born son Elrymbor, and between the two, a young Elf-maiden by the name of Anythiel, Princess of Mirkwood.
"Well?" Thranduil questioned impatiently. "What ails him?"
the healer paused. "I know not, at the moment," he said at last. "We all know very well that Elves can only catch sickness in the first twenty years of their life, so..." he paused. "I would like to monitor him, see if he does or doesn't get better. If his temperature goes up any higher or he is still not well within three weeks, then send a messenger to the Healer of Rivendell."
"But he's got to go to a special meeting in three weeks in Rivendell!" Anythiel burst out. She shut up when her eldest brother laid a hand on her shoulder.
"He will most likely be better by then," the healer replied. "But as of now, I wish to further my inspections on him, and when he wakes there is much I have to ask him," another pause. "I apologize for any inconvenience, My Lords and Lady."
"Nay, nay," Thranduil replied distractedly, "Do not apologize unless he takes a turn for the worse. Leaving him in your care, I have many duties to see to," he turned and left.
Elrymbor sighed and bowed stiffly to the healer. "I, also, have many duties to see to." He left.
Anythiel gazed at her brother's more-pale-than-usual complexion, became acutely aware of his labored breathing and the sweat the trickled down his brow. She watched a small tear roll its way down his cheek and drip onto the pillow.
That did it.
Anythiel fled the healers' rooms.
.
.
.
Rivendell, three weeks later *snort*
.
"Welcome, Masters Peregrin, Meriadoc, Samwise and Frodo," Elrond greeted as the four Hobbits dismounted their ponies. "It has been a long time, has it not?"
"It has," Frodo agreed quietly. "too long."
"I heard that there's going to be a big feast!" Pippin burst out. "When's it start, huh? Huh? Huh? I'm hungry!"
"Me too!" Merry put in.
Sam didn't say anything, just smiled.
Elrond laughed. "It starts when Legolas gets here," he said with a smile. "and that should be soon, unless he wishes to be bombarded with four angry Hobbits."
They all laughed at that one.
Inside the dining room, a large assortment of Elves sat. also there was Gimli, Aragorn, Arwen, and the accompaniment of men that had come with their King and Queen. The four Hobbits joined the table, so that six members of the Fellowship sat there. Gandalf had passed over the seas with Galadriel, and Boromir was dead. Legolas still hadn't arrived.
"Great! When do we eat? Its dark outside, so he obviously isn't going to be here any time early! Let's eat!" Pippin had to repeat this a few times before he caught anybody's attention.
"Yea perhaps he will not be joining us on time this night," Elrond said to the quieted hall and standing. "So therefore I am certain that Legolas will not mind if we start without him - he should be here soon, anyway, and this meal should most likely go on into the night," he smiled at them all. "so let's eat!"
and the festivities began!
The remaining members of the Fellowship that were present attempted to eat and talk at the same time to each other. It had been a long time since they had seen each other.
"So how fares Gondor, My Lord?" asked Frodo through a mouthful of mashed potato. Aragorn smirked, "Oh, fine as ever. But these pesky guards keep following us everywhere - really. I have been feeling as though I were trapped in a cage as of late!"
Arwen laughed, almost choking on her green beans.
"And what of you, Gimli?" asked Merry. "having fun digging in your mountain? angered any Dragons yet?"
Gimli snorted. "No, not yet. Everything fares well - and you Hobbits, what's been going on with you four, hmm?"
"Sam's Rosie is expecting a little bundle of joy soon!" Pippin burst out before anybody could stop him. Including himself.
"Congratulations!" Arwen burst out back before anybody could stop her. Including herself. "Do you know if it's a boy or a girl?"
"No," Sam replied in a much higher voice than usual - he was blushing furiously. "not yet."
Aragorn smiled. "I echo my wife's words - I bet you'll be busy!"
"When?" Gimli asked.
" 'nother couple of months," Sam said. Seeing that this was a rather embarrassing topic for his companion, Frodo changed the subject.
"I wonder what could be taking Legolas so long," he said. "he got the letter invitation about the same time we did, and he said that he'd leave two weeks early so he could be here at the same time as all of us."
" 'tis curious indeed," Gimli mused. "he's more the type to be coming early, I am thinking."
"Mayhap he was delayed," Aragorn suggested. But they were all a little worried.
So the evening continued like this, and very few noted the dripping wet messenger as he rushed in. they did all notice him, though, when they heard his dripping foot steps (must be raining outside, they all concluded) and he whispered urgently to Elrond, looking rather frantic.
Elrond stood, and the hall became quiet. "No, please, continue," he laughed. "I have important matters to attend to, and I'll join the lot of you shortly."
That was enough, and everybody went back to their chattering and eating. But Aragorn stood.
"Aragorn, where are you going?" Merry asked.
"that messenger wore the colors of Mirkwood," Aragorn replied. There was a moment's silence, then all six were darting out of the hall to the door Elrond and the wet messenger had disappeared behind.
Meanwhile, the panting elf was attempting to explain everything to the Lord without taking a breath, evidence of his hurry and his near hysterical state.
After Elrond had forced him to sit down in front of the warm fire in his study, wrapped up in a blanket, and caught his breath, the messenger began again, more coherently this time. "My Lord Elrond," he said. "our youngest prince has falled deathly ill, about a week ago. I left to come here as soon as I could, I,"
But Elrond cut him off. "tell me everything, from the beginning," he said.
The messenger took another deep breath, and forced himself to breathe normally. This took about five minutes.
"three weeks ago," he started, "our youngest prince became ill. It was a mystery as to why, as elves do not get ill, so the head healer said he would examine him, and if he took a turn for the worse he'd send a messenger here to contact the Healer of Imladris," a deep, calming breath. "then, a week ago I guess, he became deathly ill. Inches from the Halls of Mandos. I was sent here to you - My Lord, I have been traveling day and night, and it has taken me a week still to come! I fear for the prince's life." He forced himself to stand. "please! You must come now, and help us, Lord Elrond, I beg of thee!"
Elrond laid a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "I will help," he said. "but you need rest."
"but," the messenger started, but Elrond pushed him firmly down.
"I will go with my best healers at hand this night," he said. "you may follow after you've had a good night's rest and a couple of good, square meals. In fact, why don't you get changed and join the feast. I must prepare."
It was right then that the six burst into the room, demanding news from Mirkwood.
So Elrond told them (as the messenger had fallen asleep) and, of course, they all demanded to come.
So they all went off to prepare (the Hobbits still hadn't unpacked, so they went directly to the ding hall to eat more) and Arwen said that she'd like to come, but she wanted to spend more time with her brothers Elladan and Elrohir.
Say.... About an hour later, they were all situated in the pouring rain outside on ponies and horses, two other healers with Elrond.
Off they went!
TO MIRKWOOD!!!!!!!!
.
.
.
.
..
. . .
. . .
.
.
.
. .
.
.
.
.
.
.
A/N: sorry for the short chapter. I guess that it doesn't matter that much, though, but hey... it's my first LotR fic... go easy on my, k? I really do appreciate Constructive Criticism. :) I'll go start the next chapter now. :D bye-ee for now!
RePost!!!!! Thank you for constructive criticism!!!!!