This story takes place between the first Hobbit movie and the second, and around a year after BoO
Thirteen dwarves, a hobbit and a wizard were making their way towards the misty mountains, to retrieve the Arken stone and take back their home, when they encountered something very strange.
Gandalf the Grey was guiding the Oaken Shield party through a sunny green forest, and their spirits were high. Bilbo the hobbit was chatting away with the bothers Fili and Kili, and a merry song could be heard from the back of their line. Even Thorin seemed less grumpy then usual as he debated their route with the white-bearded Balin. Gandalf himself was happily smoking his pipe and amused himself by making the smoke take shapes.
They had been walking for a few hours, when he suddenly felt a change in the air. The warm late summer day was getting colder, and a darkness that shouldn't have been possible this early in the day settled over them. All the animals that had surrounded them before was now gone. There were no small animals running on the forest floor, and no birds left singing in the trees. The good mood that had surrounded the party before had vanished.
The old wizard cautiously advanced down the road while telling the rest of his group to stay back. As the old man slowly crept forwards he could feel the air getting colder and damper. Soon after his breath began to turn visible in small white clouds, that was out of place in the late summer day. The sound of steel against steel could be heard like a distance music.
Gandalf followed the road until the trees gave away and a clearing came into view. The sun casted a cold uncaring light on the unholy sight that was played out right in front of him on the barren plane.
Ghost, skeletons and undead was fighting a battle that should have been settled hundreds of years ago. The smell of rot hit him almost as hard as a wall. Everywhere Gandalf looked chaos was unfolding from the deep hatred the two armies of dead had for each other. A man with rotting flesh slowly falling off his face, tried to run his sword through the stomach of his opponent, but the blade met no resistance, as the only thing remaining of his enemy was the pitiful leftovers of his soul. Another place on the battlefield two skeletons was hacking each other to pieces. They hit each other again and again with their rusting weapons, never stopping as they no longer felt the pain of their wounds. Hundreds of people fighting in a never-ending battle as no side could win. In the middle of the it all stood a thin man. He was swaying and holding his head, and his mouth moved as if he was praying.
Gandalf was too far away to hear what he was saying, and he did not dare to go through the hordes of undead to get to the man.
Suddenly his voice rang clear above all the fighting.
"STOP!"
It was a single word, but the effect was immediate. Everything went quiet and the undead stood still as if frozen by the man's command. He slowly lifted his head, and Gandalf saw that he was barely more than a child, not yet able to grow a beard. The boy looked around at the gathered undeads and tiredly told them. "Your fight was over a long time ago. Find rest, please."
The dead stared at him and each other for a long time, as if they didn't quite understand what it was, he told them. The first sword to hit the ground broke the trance and shortly after it was followed by a hundred more weapons. Slowly the ghost started to vanish, and the dead crawled back into the holes they had come from. Soon only one figure was left standing on the battlefield. The black clad boy who single handedly had stopped a centuries old feud. Gandalf marveled at his power and feared what was next. Was he going to attack? The wizard prepared for the worst and almost didn't believe his eyes when the figure finally did move. The boy's eyes rolled back into his head, and he fainted where he stood.
A few minutes past before Gandalf found his courage to move into the clearing. Making his way through the dead grass and rusted swords he wondered what he should do. He stopped next to the unconscious stranger.
"What was that?" a scared voice asked behind him.
Gandalf turned around and saw, much to his disappointment, that the dwarves and their burglar had followed him, against his orders.
"That Mr. Baggins, was the work of a necromancer." The gruff voice of Thorin explained.
"But he's so young." The hobbit said wide eyed.
"Don't let that fool you Bilbo. A powerful mage can take any appearance they want."
"What should we do with him then?"
"Kill him while he is out." Dwalin was quick to say, always one to suggest violence as a solution. He already had his axe out, ready to strike if necessary.
"We can't kill him. Look at him he's a child!" Bilbo exclaimed outraged while gesturing wildly to the small creature on the ground.
"Did you not hear what Gandalf said, it could be a monster taking the form of a child to gain your sympathy!"
The dwarves were getting hot headed as they disgusted whether they could kill a monster that looked like a child.
The Grey wizard took the dilemma away from them with a single sentence.
"We cannot kill him yet. Tie him up, he may know something of value to us. And don't touch any of his things!"
A long time passed before their prisoner started to move. He tried to sit up but found that his hands and feet was bound behind his back, and his eyes widened in shock. The boy rolled to his knees and sat up since that was all the moment his bindings allowed him.
Bilbo nearly had a fit when he saw the necromancer looking at him.
"Gandalf!" He yelled without taking his eyes of their prisoner.
The old wizard rose from the stone he had been sitting on, while smoking his pipe, and walked quickly over to the panicking hobbit.
The wizard felt conflicted at the scene he arrived to. The necromancer only gave him a fleeting glance before he continued to look frantically around. He looked so much like a scared child that it was hard to believe that he was a master of the dark arts. And it was even harder to leave him tied up. Gandalf shook this traitorous feeling away. It was clearly for this purpose that the creature had chosen to look like a child.
"So, you're finally awake." Gandalf said coldly.
The necromancer barely seemed to have heard him. He was still looking around but was slowly realizing that what he was searching for wasn't here.
He finally turned his attention to Gandalf and the dwarves that were gathering around him. He barely reached Gandalf's hips as he sat on his knees in the dirt. He was very thin, and it felt queer to fear someone so small. He looked so much like a real child. It was an excellent illusion down to every last detail. Only his eyes betrayed his true form. They were pitch black and shone with a madness only dark magic could have caused. The monster in disguise opened his mouth and Gandalf prepared himself for a curse. The dwarves moved around with nervous energy and gripped their weapons tighter. You could cut the tension with a knife.
"Where's Will?!"
The question left them all dumbfounded. A few seconds passed before Gandalf carefully asked, "Who's Will?"
"The guy that was with me. Where is he?!" The necromancer looked close to panicking and the urgency in his voice told them all clearly that this was something important to their prisoner. Gandalf quickly used this information to their advantage, he was, after all, not called "The wise" for nothing.
"I will tell you that after you have answered our questions. Who are you and what is your true face?"
The question was so strange that the dark-haired boy forgot to look hostile for a moment. His mouth was hanging slightly open while he processed the words.
"My true face? What? I don't have any other face then this." the boy said clearly confused. He was, Gandalf decided, a very good actor. It was a shame that he had chosen the dark magic instead of theater.
"Your illusion necromancer, shred it and show us who you truly are!"
"I don't have any illusions on me."
"If you do not wish to oblige then I will have to use force. And I warn you, it will not be pleasant."
Gandalf waited a few seconds to see it the prisoner would give in to the threat, but the boy rolled his eyes and softly muttered. "Of course it won't."
The old man's anger flared up and he slammed his staff into the ground and yelled.
"Reveal yourself!"
The boy was lifted by an invisible force and slammed into a tree. The force swirl around him and it was strong as a hurricane with just as little mercy as one. It felt as is a hundred tiny fingers with sharp nails was trying to rip is skin from his face and every other part of his body. Small cut started to appear where the skin was being pulled apart and blood painted the ground beneath him.
"Stop it! I told you I don't have any other faces. I am not using any illusions!"
The Grey wizard didn't listen and repeated his command with newfound tenancy. The necromancer screamed in pain.
"If you're going to kill me then kill me, but I cannot show you something I don't have!" The boy was getting desperate, but Gandalf was deaf to his please and let the magic rage on.
The spell was slowly draining him, but the necromancer still uphold his illusion. The screams were getting louder and tears were leaving trails through the blood on the boy's face.
"WILL! WIIIIILL!" he screamed while trashing against the force that trapped him. Gandalf was starting to believe that maybe, just maybe, he wasn't acting and the terrible realization that he could be torturing a child hit him.
The force stopped just as suddenly as it started, and the prisoner hit the ground with a soft thump. His breathing came in fast ragged breaths while he tried to control his racing heart.
Gandalf kneeled beside the laying boy, and carefully studied his bloodied face. He was young and pale with dark bags under his eyes. His black eyes were like an abyss trying to suck him into the madness and at the moment they were glaring right at him, burning with anger and hatred. But they also very clearly displayed fear.
"How old are you?"
"What's it to you?" came a biting replied. It was a wonder that he could show so much resentment while he was terrified.
"You are not in a position where you can afford to be insulant. We can, after all, kill you very easily at the moment. Now tell me, how old are you?"
The boy seemed to have bitten something sour and made a face before he answered.
"Fifteen."
Surprised mummers aroused behind him and the boy's eyes darted around, and he looked closer to panicking that he already was, when he saw how many there were of them. All thirteen dwarves and the hobbit had come to see the interrogation.
"So young… How can you be a necromancer? Who thought you the dark arts of necromancy?!"
"The ghost of Mideas. I'll tell you everything you want to know, just please let me see Will. I need to know that he's okay."
Gandalf took pity on the fanatic creature and told him gravely.
"You were alone when we found you."
The dark-haired searched the wizards face for any sign of deception, but he must have found the truth in Gandalf's word, and he seemed to fall to pieces in the realization that his companion wasn't here.
"Shit"
Thorin had in the meanwhile, had enough of talking and drew his sword while walking purposefully over to the bound child.
"Give us one good reason why we shouldn't kill you Necromancer!"
The boy shrank away from the furious king and tried to look as least threatening as possible.
"Look I just want to find Will and go home. I don't want any trouble."
"Monsters like you doesn't have a place to call home." Thorin said.
"I have a home!"
"You don't even know what a home is. A man who meddles with the dead does not belong anywhere!"
Thorin's words hit a sore spot and the prisoner's meek demeanor changed like the wind and gave away to fury. He looked even madder than before and started to fight against the restrain viciously.
"Fuck you! You don't know anything about me! I have a place where I belong, a home where people like me and accept me. I have more than one. Camp Jupiter will always welcome me and so will Sally. Even my father has a place for me! That's more then I think you can say, you look like you have been wandering for years." The temperature lowered to the point where their breath became visible in the air. The grass around the boy withered in a perfect circle that quickly grew bigger and came closer to them. Gandalf knew he had to find a way to calm down the necromancer before the situation got dire.
Thorin, however, felt none of this and lifted his sword to strike the boy, who now stared defiantly back instead of cowering away. "Yeah com'on run me through and show everyone who the real monster here is."
Thorin snared and struck the boy across the face with the back of his hand. The blow sent the necromancer tumbling to the ground with blood dripping out of his mouth and nose. The dwarf king raised his sword in both his hands and pointed the blade at the necromancer's throat. The young boy laid on his back and stared up at the dwarf towering over him with hatred burning in his eyes. He could however not hide his shaking hands and the tears running down his cheeks.
Gandalf had to cut in. "Thorin" he said warningly.
"This creature brings us all in danger by being here!"
"We need to know what he knows Thorin"
The necromancer cut them off before they could argue more.
"Look, I'll tell you whatever you want to know if you don't kill me. I swear it."
Gandalf stroke his beard thoughtfully. It was quite a dilemma he found himself in. He could, on one hand, not with a good conscious kill a child, but he could, on the other hand, not let a creature of darkness wander around. He had to figure out if there was still anything left in the boy's soul worth saving.
"Have may have you killed with your dark magic?"
The young necromancer looked away.
"Just one, last year, but I promised a friend that I would never do it again."
"Is it this friend that you're looking for?"
"No." Gandalf raised one brow at the short answer and the necromancer reluctantly continued. "I'm looking for Will. A guy my age with blond hair and blue eyes." He sounded a little hopeful that they perhaps had seen him after all.
"And who or what is this Will?"
"Will's my… Will's my friend, and he's human."
"Is he like you?"
The boy smiled for the first time. It was just a small smile, and it would have changed his face completely had he not been covered in blood. The madness in his eyes did dulled a little.
"No, we're completely different. You could say we're like night and day." The boy smirked a little at his world play before he continued. "He's a healer."
"A healer and a necromancer. That is an unorthodox pair." Gandalf slowly rouse from his place beside the prisoner. "I need time to think. Clean his wounds in the mean while and set up camp. We're staying here until tomorrow." The wizard picked up his staff and started to walk away. Thorin angrily called after him, while he tried to catch up to the long-legged man. The old dwarf Balin looked after them worried, before he turned to the smallest member of the party.
"You know how to clean a wound, right master Baggins?"
The hobbit stuttered a little.
"I-I suppose I do." He did at least know the basics of it.
"Good." The old dwarf smiled and handed the stunned hobbit the medical bag, before he too turned and went after the wizard. The rest of the party was also disbanding as the dwarves slowly started their tasks. Soon only Bilbo and the bound necromancer were left.
Bilbo carefully stepped closer to the child afraid that he would be attack if he made a sudden movement. It was a silly fear since the prisoner was bound tightly. So tightly in fact that it was bruising his wrists.
The hobbit sat down and started to wet a cloth with a strong-smelling alcohol. He reached out towards the boy's face with a shaking hand. Bilbo would later deny the very high pitch sound he made, when the small boy unexpectedly flinched away from his touch.
"Sorry." Bilbo quickly apologized, thinking it was the alcohol that had stung the boy. He dried his sweating hands nervously in his pants before he tried again.
"This is going to hurt a little, but it has to be done, alright?"
The boy nodded tiredly but didn't say anything.
Bilbo slowly started the process of washing away the blood and cleaning the long cuts in the skin. It was a gruesome sight and he tried to distract himself from his work with small talk.
"Soo why did you become a necromancer?"
The boy creaked open one eye and looked at the hobbit weirdly, which was understandable.
"Turned out that I didn't have a talent for woodcarving, so I had to do the next best thing."
Bilbo let out a nervous chuckle at what he hoped was a joke, and let the failed conversation die out. They sat in silence for a short while before the boy hoarsely said;
"You're doing it wrong."
Bilbo blinked a few times before he confused let out a "Sorry?"
"Cleaning the wounds." The necromancer clarified. "You're doing it wrong. Right now, you're just pressing dirt and blood into my wounds, and wasting your disinfection. Boil some water first and clean with that, then use the disinfection."
"Disinfection?"
"The liquid you're basically trying to drown me in." came a sarcastic reply. The young man had a lot of attitude, especially for someone tied up, Bilbo though, but he did get up and to fetch some water and get a fire started.
The boy looked to be asleep when Bilbo was finally was finessed with the last wound. They hadn't talked more, but it didn't bother the hobbit any longer. It was after all hard to see the sarcastic, tired child as something dangerous, something to feared. He reminded him a little of his nephew back home, with his small frame and dark hair.
Bilbo was pulled from his musings by the sound of people nearing. Gandalf was making his way over with an angry looking Thorin in tow. The boy sat up abruptly and Bilbo nearly had a heart attack. He was sure he had been asleep.
Gandalf leaned on his staff and looked down on the glaring child. It seemed his face was stuck making that expression.
"We have come to a decision necromancer..."
"Will you stop calling me that!" The boy nearly yelled at them. "My name is Nico Di Angelo."
Gandalf fixed the child with a cold stare before continuing as if he hadn't been interrupted.
"You are coming with us until we find a place that can keep you contained. A place where you can not do any more harm."
Poor Nico he always gets the most abuse.
So, this is my newest story. I have worked a long time on it, so I hope there are some who likes it. If anyone is reading this then please leave a review and tell me what you think. What was good and what could have been better? English is not my first language so please excuse any errors you find.