Disclaimer: I own nothing from Middle Earth or J. R. R. Tolkien's amazing little mind. I wish I did, though because I love Middle Earth. I do, however, own everything from Elfwood and Merendor.
A/N: This is a CROSSOVER fic. You see, I'm writing a purely original series of fantasy books. It takes place in a world called Merendor in the kingdom of Elfwood. I was reading fanfics last month when I got a crazy idea. I though to myself, man, when I publish my books, I hope someone writes a fanfic and makes it a crossover with LOTR, and then I got an even crazier idea: I decided to write one myself. So...voilà. This is a crossover between LOTR and my series, Dark Ages. I hope somebody out there enjoys it. :-) This is my first time using so I hope I get all this right... Correct me if I do something wrong, prithee.
Rating: PG for violence. I absolutely REFUSE to write anything slash or use foul language. I am offended by such things. Got it?
Genre: Action/Adventure (my fave!) and Drama! Mwahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha! Oh dear, already an evil laugh? My, my, my, I'm on a roll!
Summary: On their way to a council in Rivendell, emissaries from Mirkwood come across three Elves with mysterious powers from another world. One is a genial but suspicious nobleman, and another is a cold, emotionless warrior who speaks about killing people in the same drawl in which he tells the time. Both are extremely overprotective of the third: a young child with the most mysterious powers of all. Thranduil is certain these three are dangerous, but Elrond disagrees. Are Thranduil's suspicions false? Or will the Nazgûl destroy them all before the child's secret can be revealed?
I hope you like! Review, please! I could really use some moral support! ;-) Don't be too harsh, please...
Elvarde
Forlorn
By Elvarde
Chapter One: Three Is Company
The snow feel through the air in soft clumps, adding to the thick, white blanket upon the ground. All around was a heavy, impenetrable whiteness, for the sky was wan as well, blotting out all else. Through the falling snowdrops trod a nut-brown horse with its head hanging dejectedly as endlessly it travelled on and on. It was not overburdened, although it bore several bundles and one rider.
This rider was small and scrawny, and he was swathed in a large, black cloak. The cowl enveloped his head entirely, and a woolen scarf was wrapped around his neck so that none of his face showed. Shod in ebony-colored, leather boots and gloved as well, not one bit of his skin could be seen s he rose, silent and unmoving; he was simply a portentous figure in black.
Two companions walked alongside the horse. To the right of the dark rider strode a tall, slim soldier clad in long boots, thick leggings, a tunic and jerkin, and a flowing, birch-grey cloak. The hood had fallen back, allowing snow to be netted in his coffee-colored braids. His stony face flushed from the cold, and his pointed ears had turned quite red. What manner of soldier he was could not be determined, for his array of weapons was rather diversified. Upon his back a quiver of arrows and a longbow were slung. At his left side was a long sword with a short sword at his right, and a bodkin was attached to each sheath. Five throwing knives and six other daggers added to this assortment of weaponry. His only armor consisted of glossy bracers laced to his wrists and smooth gloves with the fingertips cut off. Nevertheless, that fibrous, woven scarf about his neck could possibly be used for garroting people. The color of the scarf matched the icy blue of his cold, emotionless eyes that glared glacially into the whitish distance.
To the left of the rider, an even taller warrior led the horse by the reigns with one hand and kept the other at the hilt of his short sword. A large, hand-and-half broadsword was strapped to his back on top of his emerald green cloak, and a couple of daggers were at his side. He worse not the simple garb of a soldier but instead the elaborate robes of a noble lord. His face bore pleasant features, and a small smile was on his lips as they walked through the snow. He made no attempt to brush aside his long, unbraided, cinnamon-colored tresses which the wind blew into his face. His eyes, which were the same color as his hair, often glanced back at the taciturn, black-clad rider.
And on and on they sauntered though the snow.
"How much farther until the mountain pass, my lord?" inquired the grey-cloaked Elf politely, revealing absolutely no emotion in his voice.
"Um…" The green-clad Elf hesitated. "Judging form where we are now, I guess I would have to say, uh, I'm…not sure…"
"Forsooth, my lord," the other stated. "You have no idea where we are."
"None whatsoever," admitted the brunet Elf-lord with a sigh. He grinned wryly and turned to their younger companion. "Are you feeling alright, Your Majesty?"
The small rider raised is head, his daunting gaze now focused on the worried warrior. "I am fine, my Lord Eilen," he insisted softly, his voice sorrowful yet elegant, "as fine as I was when you asked that same question five minutes ago."
"Not too cold or tired or hungry or parched or dizzy or in pain or anything like that? Because we can always stop a rest, you know. I mean, we can't build a fire, and we don't have any shelter, and all our water's frozen, and we're starting to run out of food, and we can't change the temperature, and we don't— OW!" The Elf-lord's rambling had ceased due to his having slipped on a sheet of ice that had suddenly formed on top of the snow.
"Eilen, are you alright?" cried out the young Elf worriedly.
Eilen groaned and carefully picked himself off the cold ground. He glowered at the grey-cloaked Elf and grumbled accusingly, "Rilvaro, you did that, didn't you?"
"Did I what, Lord Eilendis?" asked Rilvaro emotionlessly.
"You put that ice there to trip me on purpose!"
"I did?" The apathetic Elf's drawl revealed nothing — no sarcasm, no innocence, no surprise, nothing. "Well, than you ever so much, my lord, for informing me of this, although I must say that I've far too much of a throbbing migraine to concentrate on misplacing ice crystals."
"I know 'twas you," Lord Eilendis muttered under his breath as they continued on. "What would give you a headache out here, anyway?"
"I can't imagine."
And thus they proceeded onward through the seemingly endless world of whiteness.