Disclaimer: Everything is Tolkien's except the Drakes and the Drake Riders. Some of the Elves are mine, but their names are not The language is a real language, and has been added by the help of my best friend. It will be incorporated more often, but for now, it is only in the names. Author's Note: Not a Mary-Sue! I simply couldn't think of a better name. Suggestions are welcome for other fics. Also, I have attempted Tolkien's writing style, so correct me if need be. This story takes place after the second war of the Ring of power, but before the Elves set sail for Valinor.
Lord of the Rings: Take to Flight
Chapter 1
The wind blew threw their hair, and flowed beneath their wings. The leader, riding upon the Queen Drake, pointed with her scepter to a place beneath the clouds. The mother Drake let loose an eerie cry, and dove into the clouds below. Each smaller Drake followed suit.
Every Elf among them heard it. It was a strange call unknown to them, and it had come from no known direction. Gimli and Aragorn, noticing all the Elves stopping in mid-pace, reached for their weapons. Every bow was at hand, and every hand held an arrow. Still unable to place the call, Legolas awaited with unease. His eyes searched everywhere. The trees had been silent since the call had sounded, and that only increased the party's worry. Haldir then pointed to the clouds, and all saw shapes moving towards them. They seemed Dragons, but they were more sleek and of different bluish hues. Their leathery wings flapped effortlessly in the wind. Their manes and tails rippled through the clouds. And borne upon them were seven riders. Only the twelve Elves could see that each Rider had different markings and colours on their faces. In no time at all, the apparent mother swooped down, and seemed to survey the party. The second one did likewise. All seven passed overhead and swung back for another swoop. Legolas could only mutter that they had become training prey for the hatchlings.
Again, the mother swooped, this time snapping, and arrows were let fly at the Riders. Her black-painted face was blocked as the wing came up defensively and knocked the arrows aside harmlessly. The seventh creature landed and started whipping its tail and barring its fangs at three Elves. Gimli and Aragorn, trusting their friends with the arrows, drew their favourite weapons and started to attack the foul beast. Arrows were fired at the midnight blue eyes, but the wings always came to knock them aside. Claws caught arrows in midair, and one Rider seemed to have a bow, for the rain of points came back to the archers. One of Haldir's arrows seemed to pierce the mother as she flew, for the claws went to the breast, and it dove down with wings folded. But this was only a fantasy. Before its long neck touched a tree's leaf, the entire being gracefully arced to glide over the green. The wings were massive and covered thirty trees across. The same eerie call came from deep in its throat, and all the hatchlings followed its example. The call thrummed in the party's ears and pain coursed through Elven ones. The one remained on the ground. It managed to swipe two Elves off their feet, and they were thrown to the trees. Gimli managed to break a claw, but his entire being rang like a bell, telling Aragorn that those claws were stronger than they looked. Gimli's axe even had a notch to confirm this. The Rider, face painted like the wings of her steed in blue, wielded a long staff with a crescent moon blade on both ends. Another Elf, sibling to one who had fallen, aimed for the Rider with his blade. His hand lost grip on the hilt as the staff came down upon his wrist. The leathery tail then wrapped about him in his moment of pain. The tuft of long blue hair was the only part not crushing the young Elf. Bones snapped, and every sensitive ear heard this pain. The crushing pressure killed him instantly, and he crumpled to the floor.
While the blue being was distracted, Legolas let fly two arrows. One pierced the slender neck and the other pierced its left eye. The Rider was thrown as her steed reared in pain. An ethereal cry came from it, and the mother came so very close to biting off Legolas' head, had the Rider, for some reason, pulled back on her reins. Instead of killing him, the parent landed with an earth-shuddering weight, hissing and barring its jagged teeth. The Rider atop the mother was perusing the Elves, Dwarf and Man with dark eyes. When they hesitated to approach, it took its child gently in its claws and led it away from the prey-turned-attackers. They flew off with a final cry from the mother, and Legolas knew that his arrows had been enough to say that this fight was not worth it if a child was to be lost.
The cries could be heard, and one drake turned to come back. The hatchling carried a Rider whose face was painted with red runes. It swooped and called out. The Elves wasted no time to take it down, as their attention could focus on a sole threat. Aragorn drew his bow as well. So many arrows sang through the air towards the one that the wings could only block so many and remain in flight. One arrow pierced, leaving an opening for another. The beast became a pincushion and plummeted to the floor. Gimli, eager to work, soon took off its head, generously sacrificing an axe. Each warrior awaited the return of the mother, but it did not return. They all crowded around the headless body, now spilling purple-black blood. The Rider lay motionless by a tree. Her neck was broken, for she had been thrown from her perch and hit the branches. One Elf, Thalion, looked at the head of the beast.
'These are not Dragons. These are Drakes. Very few are left alive. I wonder why the mother does not return for her offspring.'
'Maybe it disobeyed her call to retreat' suggested Falma.
'How many did we loose?' asked Haldir.
'Five.'
'Collect their bodies. We leave no one left out for the Drakes to eat should they return for their fallen sibling. Leave the Rider be, for if they crave food, they can have her.'
'Her armour is that which I have never seen the likes of before...' commented the king. 'What say you, Thrandulion? Legolas?' Aragorn turned around, looking for his friend.
Legolas was searching the trees near where they had fought the Drake. The Rider had been thrown from her place. Maybe she could explain a few things before they killed her, that is if she lived. He saw a glint of metal, and found the staff that she had wielded. Nearby, she lay motionless. Her neck was fine, but a bruise on her head stated clearly she had been knocked unconscious. He slipped his arms beneath and lifted her from the foliage. He carried her back to the others, and they all saw that she lay unconscious, not dead. Her eyes remained closed, and her fingers unmoving, but shallow breaths came from her parted lips. Thalion went back to find the Rider's blade, to place at the feet of their fallen. The Rider was a sight for their eyes. She wore her raven hair down, with only a ribbon tied around her head to keep her hair from her face. Her armour was little. It only covered her bust and waist, fitting snuggly against her flesh like a second skin. The blue metal was lined with silver designs, and a leathery skirt came down around her thighs. As well as little armour, she wore a cloak like that of the Drake's wings, and had a bone knife tied to her waist. Her boots were made of Drake hide, and had the tail hair at the top. It seemed her peoples' entire lives revolved around the Drake. Tying her hands, they placed her upon a horse, and Uray, another young Elf, took up the reins of that horse. The others mounted, with Thalion using rope to lead the rider-less horses. Falma took up the rear, checking that all the horses were led well by her sister. The company rode in silence, silently grieving for their fallen friends. They had been so close to Rivendell. Only five days more and they would all have been safe. They hoped the reason for the battle was better than 'just because'.