Title: A Hawk's Eye View
Author: Evelyn Downs
Summary: The tree people of Firienholt are a race both savage and intelligent; barbaric, and sophisticated, and they have long held Blaine—a skin walker—bound to their bloodlines. So when three of the Fellowship become unintended guests en route to rescue their friends, Blaine's only companion convinces them to take her away. However, Blaine's escape will prove more difficult than any of them imagine, and her freedom will spark far more than any of her companions bargained for. Slightly AU.
Disclaimer(s): I don't own Lord of the Rings, or any of the recognizable characters from the trilogy. That all remains the undisputed property of J.R.R. Tolkien…for now (waggles eyebrows ominously.) All other characters, however, did in fact come from me, as did any future plot twists.
If you're dead set on Tolkien's chain of events, don't read this. I may or may not fiddle with the plot, and I would prefer comments to regard my choices artistically, rather than compare them to Tolkien's work (let's face it, I can't top that ._.)
On to the tale!
When a man, a dwarf and an elf passed through Firienholt, they sent out a ripple of awareness. A fox paused its foraging, and the master owl craned his neck to watch the procession through the trees. A million eyes marked their footsteps, but perhaps none glowed so fiercely as the yellow-gold gaze of a hawk. Dark as midnight, she perched invisible in the trees and fluttered branch to branch, following their progress. Her sharp eyes narrowed in disapproval as they continued heading north. Toward Rohan, she thought, mentally mapping their trajectory. With a mental sigh, she spread her wings to flight. They'll hit the village before they exit the forest…She loosed a fierce cry before lifting from her branch in one strong down stroke. It amused her greatly to witness the sudden tension come over the elf as she wheeled away toward the clan.
It took her fewer than five minutes to reach the settlement hidden in the trees and light down on a particularly large root near the village guard—two sentries in full armor. One whistled to his companion and both jogged toward the waiting hawk as she hopped from foot to foot. Before their eyes, her bones seemed to warp, and a great shiver passed through her feathers and pushed them up on end before they began to recede into her skin. Her neck twisted, and such a series of snaps and cracks were emitted from her person that an unaccustomed observer would think she'd broken every bone in her body. As it was, one of the guards averted his gaze, and the other appeared supremely uncomfortable. Within moments, however, the process was over, and a small girl with a sharp face, hawks eyes and feathers in her short, black hair stood to regard the sentries.
"I need to see the chief," she intoned coolly. "Now, if possible." The guards shared a glance, but nodded, and one dashed off through the trees.
Perhaps ten minutes later found the girl-hawk high in a tree as she stepped off a thick branch into the chief's compartment where it sat securely half in the trunk, half stretched over a limb. As soon as she was illuminated by the saffron glow of candlelight, the girl bent to one knee. The chief—a wizened old man with long, white hair and tough, caramel skin—stood commandingly from his skin-draped chair.
"Blaine," he nodded to the girl, gestured with one regal hand for her to rise. "What do you have for me?" The girl didn't miss the ice in his tone or his gaze, but she had learned long ago not to flinch.
"Intruders, my lord," she said quickly. "Three of them, perhaps half a day northwest of here." The chief nodded slowly, sank back into his chair.
"I see…describe them to me."
"Man, dwarf and elf, all armed, moving fast. They travel light—I saw perhaps one pack among the three. Lean males, all of them, and with enough urgency not to watch their feet," she rattled off quickly, then remembered how the man had seemed to study the ground. "I believe they were tracking something, my lord." To her great surprise, the chief clapped his hands together, and his lean face stretched into a withering smile.
"Wonderful," he said with apparent glee. Blaine narrowed her yellow eyes, suspicious of the chief's excitement, but he was not finished speaking. He lifted a veined hand and pointed one of his hooked, knotted fingers at her. "Go to these travelers," he commanded. "Lead them here and bring them to me."
"Wh—" Blaine bit her tongue, but it was too late. The chief rose from his chair with greater speed than she had imagined he maintained.
"It is not for you to ask questions, leath anam," he growled. Blaine bit hard on the inside of her lip at the crude name, but betrayed no other emotion as the chief once again took his seat. "Now go."
Blaine bowed stiffly from the hips, hands down at her sides as was customary, turned on her heel and marched out to the end of the branch. For a moment she stood there, exhaled long and hard in an effort to dispel her anger. It didn't work—it never really worked—and the hawk that emerged from her shift appeared more than a little ruffled. Nevertheless, she lifted into the air with a chirrup of annoyance in the back of her throat.
When she caught up to the travelers once again, she lit on a branch a moment, deciding how best to approach them. Suddenly, the elf's head snapped up and he seemed to look straight at her. Caught off-guard, Blaine danced nervously from foot to foot on her branch and anxiously watched his expression as he turned to the dwarf, who'd begun singing something in a low, growling bass.
"Gimli, please," he hissed. "Something's amiss." At his words, Gimli's tune ground reluctantly to a halt, and the man jogged back from where he'd run ahead.
"What is it, Legolas?" he questioned, eyes instantly scanning the trees. Legolas shook his head.
"I've felt it for a while, now. Someone is watching us." Damn elves and their senses, Blaine thought, irritated. It did nothing to upset her plan, but it ruffled her feathers nonetheless. Blaine had always prided herself on her ability to disappear, melt into her environment and watch, unnoticed.
"Och, trust an elf to be jumpy," the dwarf grumbled. "Pay him no mind, Aragorn." The man, Aragorn, shot him a half-amused, half preoccupied glance.
"These trees have eyes," he said to Gimli. "Who's to say they haven't alerted someone to our presence here?" I suppose that's my cue, Blaine thought before quickly shifting. For just a moment longer she crouched on the tree branch, just until they group passed beneath her. Then, with a hawk's cry, she jumped down. She couldn't keep a grin from her face at the whoosh of wind through her hair, arms outstretched and body unnaturally light. She landed with barely a thud on the forest ground, and cleared her throat, though there was no need. Already the small company had whirled to face her, and she noticed with grudging appreciation that their weapons were instantly in hand. Aragorn held a sword, the dwarf wielded an axe, and the elf had an arrow knocked and trained on her chest. Blaine held up her hands in surrender.
"Please, I did not mean to startle you," she said quickly (though of course, she had). The weapons lowered a fraction of an inch, and Blaine sighed. "Who are you? What business do you have in Firienholt?" The group exchanged a glance, lowered their weapons…except the elf. Blaine noticed with irritation that he kept his arrow knocked and aimed.
"We mean no harm," the man said calmly. "We are simple travelers." Blaine quirked a raven-wing eyebrow at him in disbelief.
"Really. I've never seen any 'simple' travelers with reflexes like yours. In fact," she put a finger to her chin, tilted her head back as though thinking particularly hard. "I don't recall any 'simple travelers' just traipsing into Firienholt with their noses to the ground like you three." She paused to gauge their reactions. The man and the dwarf shared concerned glances and seemed to shift uncomfortably. Clearly, Aragorn was trying to think of a way to handle the situation without violence, and in the quickest way possible. The elf, on the other hand… Blaine leveled Legolas with her citron gaze as he pulled even harder on his bow string.
"What business of yours is our presence in Firienholt?" he demanded, blue eyes sharp. Blaine sighed, relaxed her stance and waved a hand carelessly at him.
"None, I suppose," she conceded, much to the group's apparent bewilderment. "The one who cares is my master—ruler of these parts, if there is one." She turned to Aragorn, taking a formal stance with her right hand clasping her left wrist behind her back. She offered a half bow, but her smirk added a flare of mockery. "I have been…dispatched to escort you to Speibhaile, our village in the sky."
"And if we refuse?" Gimli demanded, hoisting his axe a little higher. Blaine offered a wide, fake smile.
"I don't believe you will—after all, we have the means to help you find whatever you're tracking, as well as provide provisions, should you please the chief. And should you prove uncooperative," her smile hardened, "I will persuade you." Aragorn blinked at her a moment, and Blaine could almost feel his surprise that a slight girl like herself had the gall to threaten them. For a moment, she even wondered if he might take his chances attacking her. Then he sighed, defeated.
"Alright, I suppose we have no choice. We will accompany you…but please, know that we are on a quest of extreme urgency." Blaine nodded, and for the first time her sympathetic smile was genuine.
"Please, follow me, my lords," she gave another half bow and made to stride past them. On her way, however, she paused abreast of Aragorn and met his gaze. "I'm sorry for this," she whispered, low enough that none of the villagers would hear if they were skulking about. "You'll learn soon enough that I don't have a choice." Aragorn appeared taken aback, but before he could open his mouth to speak, Blaine had taken the lead and gestured for the little group to follow.
They made good time on the journey; Blaine was pleased to discover that even the dwarf could quite easily match her pace. What she had estimated as a half-day's trek quickly became the work of a few short hours.
"We're here," Blaine announced casually, just as the sun began its descending arch. Gimli looked about in confusion.
"Here? Lass, there's nothin' here!" Blaine smiled softly at him.
"To your eyes, yes—I suppose it appears no different than any other part of the forest. But…" she gestured with her eyes and hand to the canopy. The people of Speibhaile had long made their homes high above the ground. The trees were full of dwellings, built so finely into the massive, twisting trunks and branches as to remain unnoticeable to the unsuspecting eye. And yet, Blaine knew to look for the intricate doorways, strengthened branches and expanded trunks.
"You live in those?" the dwarf breathed, seemingly in awe. Blaine nodded with a smile, noticed peevishly that Legolas' hand fluttered restlessly near his bow.
"And daily life happens down here," Blaine gestured to the little shops and stalls embedded in the maze of roots. "Now, please follow me to the chief's quarters."
Blaine deftly located the ancient tree in the center of the village and began climbing the staircase that wound about its trunk. The group followed and each of them kept a very firm grip on the trunk's rough bark. Blaine knocked carefully on the heavy door once they reached the wide, manually flattened branch that served as a landing.
"Enter," came the regal tone. Blaine reached for the door, but paused a moment before opening it and turned earnestly to the group.
"Remember to bow when you enter," she instructed in a harsh whisper. "Just copy me. And…be sure to compliment his home…and no matter what, do not mention his scar!" Legolas opened his mouth to ask why, but Blaine shook her head at him. "Just trust me, and you'll be more likely to survive this." At her mention of their precarious position, Aragorn appeared alarmed. But Blaine had used up her stall time, and yanked open the sturdy door to reveal the luxurious, if simple, hollow within.
"So this is the group of travelers?" the chief mused, cast his gaze almost scornfully over each of them. Blaine noticed with relief that they had copied her bow. Unfortunately, she also noticed that the chief had summoned the village soothsayer…which was never a good sign. Her mouth stretched in a slight grimace, which of course, the witch noticed.
"You are dismissed, leath anam," she hissed. Blaine rose to her feet, nodded deeply to the chief and the soothsayer, and turned on her heel. Just before leaving the space, she made eye contact with Aragorn, offered the most miniscule of nods, and marched out onto the landing. She knew she was expected to await summons.
Perhaps half an hour later, the door swung open. Blaine, who had moved to sit with her legs hanging over the ledge, leapt to her feet so quickly she almost lost her balance. The soothsayer stood in the doorway, and with a glare of contempt and a wave of her hand the crone summoned Blaine back into the chief's chambers. Blaine obeyed silently.
The chief appeared to have taken a liking to the strangers, for they were all sat around his great, oaken table near the window carved into the trunk, and the chief wore what Blaine had internally labeled his flattery smile. At her entrance, however, his smile quickly vanished, and the company turned in their seats to regard her. Blaine fought—and failed—to keep a flush from her face as the crone jostled roughly past her, and the travelers looked between her and the chief with curiosity.
"Our friends seek a pack of orcs," the chief began coldly. Blaine wondered at which point in the last thirty minutes the travelers had become "our friends." "The foul creatures have captured two of their friends—Halflings of the shire."
"And you wish me to..?" Blaine regretted the short phrase almost immediately. She had not intended it, but the words came off with just a hint too much blasé attitude, bordering on sarcasm. As expected, the soothsayer jumped to her feet with a hiss.
"Hold your tongue, leath anam!" she commanded. Blaire stared at the ground, expecting some mild form of punishment, but in a rare act of charity, the chief waved a hand at the witch, and she grudgingly took her seat.
"You are to fly out tonight and scout out the pack," the chief commanded. "You will observe them long enough to discover what they have done with the Halflings, and report to our friends immediately upon your return." Years ago, perhaps, Blaine might have resented the order, knowing that it would mean a long, dangerous night without sleep. But she had grown accustomed to such chores; her position in the clan (if it could be labeled such) was one of servitude, and the chief had long taken to making sure she was at her wit's end with exhaustion.
"Please, that's unnecessary!" At Aragorn's protest, Blaine's head snapped up in surprise. "Such a journey will be dangerous and lengthy…we cannot ask so much of you." The chief chuckled as though at a small child's ignorance.
"This leath anam is here to serve purposes such as this. She doesn't mind in the least, do you, leath anam?" The witch's gaze bored into Blaine's and she gulped thickly before answering.
"Of course not, my lord. I would be honored."
"That settles it then." The chief nodded to his new "friends" before gesturing to Blaine. "Please, show them to their chambers before you leave." Blaine bowed and started for the door.
"Please follow me, my lords."
Alright, now that you've read the opening, I should warn you: I meant for this to be a light fic, and just follow the original plot line. As you will quickly see, the story had other plans. So for quite a few chapters, this will follow a separate plotline-though Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli will remain central characters. I do still intend to rendezvous with the movies, you might have to bear with me a bit. Hopefully it's still enjoyable, even if it's a little...different. Just let me know if it sucks!