Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to the Lord of the Rings or Marvel Comics Characters.
A/N: This takes place (or rather, the characters are from) the Marvel Ultimate universe.
The sky overhead was pitch black, yet completely calm. Stars twinkled overhead, illuminating the city that never slept. The moon shone brightly, being full. It's reflected light casting a eerie glow over the narrow path that the solitary figure trod upon in absolute silence. Leaves rustled across the marble path, but the figure paid them no attention. On one side of the path was a black iron fence, far more elaborate than the home variety. But again, the figure paid no attention to it's surroundings.
To someone who did not know who the figure was, it would appear that there was no purpose to the methodical movements. But to the people who did know the figure, they knew all to well the purpose of the silence, of it's significance.
A shirt gust of wind lapped at the long, brown cloak that covered the frame of the figure. For the briefest of seconds a lock of brown hair was revealed. But the lock was quickly hidden by slender fingers, almost as if the woman was afraid of being seen. Which she was. But was unable to keep her presence hidden for long, not from a set of eyes that watched from behind. Her pursuer kept up a steady pace behind her, but was careful to remain hidden. Unfortunately, his efforts where in vain, as the woman had been trained by the best.
"You're him," the woman asked as she forced herself to a halt. "The new one, aren't you?" She continued, not bothering to turn and face her follower. Who she knew was a young male, even if he hadn't spoken.
"I am," the young man replied, as she heard the shuffling of feet. A small part of her mind told her that the young man wanted to come closer, but hesitated. But the rest of her mind didn't care. She had other priorities on her mind, a schedule to keep. A tight one at that. A schedule she had been keeping on this night for the past four years. Ever since that night. That fateful night. The night when her whole life had been shattered with one news report.
That night still hung in her mind like a fresh wound. Which it was, an emotional one. She had locked herself away from all human contact for a full week, barely eating or sleeping. It had taken several people who where close to her to forcefully bring her back into society. Or their version of it, anyway. Being on the run from the government certainly made living a life difficult.
"Do you want company?" The young man's voice asked as the woman resumed walking.
"I'd prefer to be alone," the woman replied as she heard the young man step into a quiet pace, still keeping his distance. Beneath her hood, the woman shed a single tear. In her heart, she knew the young man's pure intentions. But this was something special. Something to be cherished, a time to remember a long-lost friend.
"I understand," the young man replied as the echoes of his footsteps on the stone path. "I'll leave you alone, miss."
"Thank you," the woman replied as she continued down the path,, turning a corner and allowing the young man to be sucked up by the night. That was when she allowed the tears she had been keeping at bay to flow freely down her cheeks as she pulled back her hood.
She cast her eyes upwards at the stone statue, at the stone figure who was immortalized in a larger-than life pose. She reached a tender hand forward, brushing it against the smooth surface of the hero's foot. She would have reached for the heart, but she couldn't reach it without climbing on the statue itself, and that was something she would never do. It pained her to watch the news and see the pictures floating around the internet of parents letting their children use the gravemarker as little more than a jungle gym.
"I thought I might find you here," a new voice said. This speaker was male as well,, but older, stronger and rougher. Yet at the same time it was soft, full of emotion. Like the man who had followed her before, the woman did not turn to face him, even though she knew who he was.
"Are you here to arrest me?" the woman asked, barely moving as she spoke softly, doing her best to re-hide her pain. "Because you know I won't come quietly."
"No," the man replied stiffly as he shifted his feet. "I won't arrest you. Not here. Not tonight. Not when we're here for a common cause." He had a lot of nerve to show his face, as far as the woman was concerned. And if it where any night aside from this one, she wouldn't hesitate to break his jaw.
"I take it you sent the kid as a sentry?" the woman snapped quietly with a whisper. She felt a small portion of her emotion turn to anger as the young man re-appeared beside the older man. It brought back a slew of painful images to the forefront of her mind.
"He came here under his own free will," a new male said as he stepped into the moonlight. Once more, the woman didn't face him. And again, it wasn't out of rudeness, but rather pain. This new man shared a good chunk of the responsibility for her pain this night. "As did I."
"You have no right to be here," the woman snapped bitterly as new tears fell down her cheeks. What would the man she was mourning think of this newcomer's nerve? Of course, she thought with a twinge, he was never one to hold a grudge. That's...that's just who he was... she thought as she clasped a small silver pendant that was attached to a golden chain. The pendant and necklace had been a gift from the hero she was mourning. It was the last thing he had ever given her before his death. And now, it was her most treasured possession in the world.
"Castle," the first older man said with a polite tone, "I'm sure you know who this-"
"I do, Rogers," the second older man, named Castle replied with a short grunt. "He's Sp-"
"No," the woman replied as she finally turned to face the three people who where standing behind her. Her hood and cloak flapped as she spun and pointed from the young man to the statue. "He's not. Maybe he wears the symbol. Maybe he travels the city like he did. But he," the woman said firmly as she jabbed her finger towards the young man. "Is not him," she finished as she pointed to the stone figure, "and he never will be."
"It's been four years, Shroud," a female voice said as it stepped out of the shadows, but kept her distance from the three men. Beside her stood another figure who was covered in as much, or more clothing than the woman.
"Leave me alone, Phoenix," the woman snapped as she re-centered herself. Once more, the woman felt her emotions boiling up inside, ready to spring forward like a volcano. "And same with you, Kurt."
"Why?" the young man snapped as he stepped forward. "What gives you more right to mourn than-"
"Miles," the man named Rogers snapped as he placed a hand on the younger man's shoulder. He then leaned inwards and whispered something into the young man's ear. But the woman paid them no attention, instead turning her attention on the red-haired woman, and her garbed companion.
"If you've come to-" the young woman began to say.
"To mourn," Phoenix replied firmly as she took a step forward. "The X-men can survive without me for a day. This takes precedence tonight."
"It can take precedence tomorrow as well," the woman snapped in response. "Now leave me alone, please. I just-" she continued as she looked at her watch, her heart sinking in despair. She had missed it. "No..." she began to sob as she dropped to her knees. "No...nono...nononono...nnnnnnn-" she felt her word become less coherent and turn into mumbles as tears flowed from her features like water down a waterfall. Not once had she missed the moment. Not once. She knew that others had missed it, or remembered it in their own way. But this had been her tradition.
"What's-" the young man, named Miles said as he approached her. Which was a mistake, as she thrust her fist outwards with the force of a speeding car, sending it crashing into his abdomen. His body flew across the marble path and crashed into the iron gate. His body formed a dent in it and caused a stir among the individuals present, all of whom possessed supernatural abilities, save one. The two newest comers, Phoenix and Kurt, stepped in between the woman and the two men.
"This doesn't have to turn ugly," Phoenix said firmly as the man named Castle stepped forward, somewhat aggressively as he reached for his hip. "Just...just everybody stay calm," she finished as she put her hands up.
"Bitch packs a punch," Miles snorted as he got to his feet. Out of the corner of her ey, the woman saw small sparks erupt around his hands as he stepped past Rogers and Castle, towards Kurt and Phoenix, the first of whom stepped in his path as he discarded his outer clothing, revealing blue fur and a prehensile tail.
"Step back, mein friend," Kurt said, with his voice dripping with his thick accent.
"Outta my way, pappa smurf," Miles snorted as he brought his hand up and touched Kurt's face. A small spark flew from his hand to the mutant's face, causing the blue-furred X-man to fall. "You too-" Miles began as he moved to push past Phoenix, his hand brushing hers. All that the young woman remembered after that was the sound of a raptor screeching, angry red fire, and then blackness.
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Splash. Splash. Splash. Splash.
That's what she heard. Splashing. Against her skin she felt heavy drops cascade onto her exposed skin. Soon the splashing was joined by voices. Excited voices. Happy voices. Exhausted voices.
"There it is! I can see it!" one voice shouted.
"Yes, Pip, we can all see it!" A second voice shouted through the rain. "It's rather hard to miss, being a town and all!"
"Oh well, um..." the first voice said in a state of confusion, only to be interrupted by a third speaker.
"Look over there!" the third speaker shouted, "There's someone in the mud!"
"Where?" the first voice asked.
"Just beyond the sign!" the second voice replied. By the sounds of their voices, the woman could tell that they where approaching. Withing seconds, she heard herself being surrounded, but yet she didn't open her eyes.
"It's a woman!" the third voice said.
"She's beautiful!" the first voice said in agreement.
"She is," a fourth speaker's voice piped up.
"Is she hurt?" the first speaker asked, "she looks like she's hurt. Sam,, do you have something in your bag?"
"Let me see," the third voice said as the woman heard the sound of something heavy dropping in the mud, followed by a rummaging sound. "I...maybe...any idea where she's from, Mr Frodo?"
"No idea," the fourth voice said.
"Look!" the second voice said, "on her neck! Maybe we could use that to buy us a room! I'll just..." That was all she needed to rouse her spirit. She snapped her eyes open as a surprisingly small hand brushed against her neck. With a practiced move, she sent it's owner into a arm-lock as she struck out her other hand, striking something soft and fleshy as she got to her feet. She cast her eyes around in shock, as she found herself surrounded by four diminutive men.
"Where. The. Hell. Am. I?" Katherine Pryde demanded as she wrapped her hand around the throat of the darkest-haired midget.
A/N: Well, how was that for a first chapter? What did you like? What did you hate? Tell me in a review!
Also, internet cookies to whoever guessed the name of 'the woman' before I mentioned her name.