Chapter Two
First of all, a huge thank you to everyone who added this humble tale of mine to their favorites and follows, and a very special thank you to those who reviewed. I know it's been years, but rest assured I am not planning on abandoning this story - a wild life appeared and used depression. It was super effective, unfortunately.
Hopefully, the interval between this chapter and the next won't be as long.
I also made a few very small edits to the previous chapters because I realized I had forgotten Laliani's staff, so I had to sneak it in there.
Previous disclaimer applies.
Laliani woke startled, her magic reacting on instinct to push away any threat nearby.
Her head swam with fatigue and her throat was parched from chanting incessantly to maintain the portal open. Her senses were still sharp enough, however, to tell her that the magic in the air had a completely different feel to that of Azeroth. It was wild and untamed but, at the same time, felt structured and organized. It actually reminded her of some sort of symphony, as strange as that was.
As soon as the world stopped spinning around her, Laliani sat up, only then noticing she had been lying on a bedroll. She looked around the small encampment and her glowing green eyes fell on a group of people, all of them in the various stages of picking themselves up off the ground.
She stiffened, knowing it was her magic that had brought them down, and prepared to defend herself, even as she observed the nine beings with curiosity.
Three of them she recognized as human, with the two youngest being warriors and the oldest clearly a mage, judging by the staff and the arcane energy she could feel surrounding him.
One of them was a dwarf. She snorted inwardly when her first instinct was to look for a boomstick on his person - dwarves loved their guns. This one had no gun, however, only a war axe he kept caressing even as he looked at her with suspicion.
There was also an elf in the group, even if his features were too soft, his ears too small and his eyebrows practically nonexistent - the poor thing. Either the elves of this world were all like that, or this one's blood was not purely elven.
The last four beings she could not identify. Their small stature was that of gnomes, but their ears were very slightly pointed and their feet large and covered with fluffy curls of hair. Also, they were much more good looking and not nearly as ungainly as the Azerothian race.
The mage, clearly the leader of the group, stepped forward slowly, his expression kind but curious. She tensed, knowing that in her current state she would likely be unable to defeat him, not to even mention the others. He stopped as soon as he saw her reaction, smiling at her in reassurance, and spoke in a kind, calm tone.
"Greetings, my lady. We mean you no harm."
She blinked, not having understood a single word he had just spoken. The language was certainly beautiful, quite musical and harmonious, even if it couldn't compare to Thalassian.
The old human frowned lightly, seeing she had not understood him, and tried again.
"Do you understand me?"
Laliani perked up. That had been in common, though a strangely accented version of it. Thankfully, she was familiar with it, as any mage worth their mana would be if they wanted to be accepted by the Kirin Tor.
"Yes." She croaked, and the other mage smiled in triumph.
"I was saying that we mean you no harm, though we are all very curious about your appearance." He assured her. "But first, my companion will give you some fresh water, if you want it."
One of the little beings stepped toward her with a water skin, though he looked rather hesitant to do so. He barely restrained a flinch when she accepted it from his outstretched hand. She couldn't really blame him, his species looked somewhat fragile, chubby and soft, and her out of control magic must have hurt quite a bit when it pushed them all back.
She sniffed then took a very small sip, barely wetting her lips, just to make sure she had really been given water. Upon confirmation, she drank a few large gulps, before giving it back to the little one with a smile and a softly spoken thank you. That seemed to relax him, and the gnome-like being even blushed as he retreated.
She turned her gaze back to the mage, who had just sat himself calmly on the grassy ground in front of her. The others in the group also seemed to have decided she posed no immediate threat, though hands never strayed far from sheathed weapons, and cautious eyes observed every movement she made.
"How are you feeling, my lady?" The old mage asked her.
"Well enough, thank you." Truth was she still felt somewhat dizzy, but it was best to keep any weakness hidden for now.
The human nodded. "Forgive my bluntness, but I have to ask: are you from this world? You do not look like any other elf in Middle Earth, and the manner of your arrival was too disruptive to be wholly natural. In fact, your magical aura is definitely foreign."
Laliani blinked at his blunt and accurate observations, and decided to answer honestly. The man looked intelligent enough to spot a lie, and he did not seem hostile, only curious.
"If you say this world is called Middle Earth," and what a strange name; was there an Upper Earth or a Lower Earth? "Then no, I am not from here. I come from a world called Azeroth."
While the rest of the group showed reactions that ranged between shock and awe to scepticism and outright suspicion, the human mage simply nodded as if he had been expecting that answer.
"And did you know you would be arriving in Middle Earth when you set upon your journey?" Maybe a Right Earth or a Left Earth?, she mused. He continued when he noticed her confused frown. "These are troubled times, I cannot imagine anyone wanting to leave their own world for another riddled with what many consider a hopeless war."
Laliani closed her eyes in impotent resignation. It was just her luck to leave a war behind, only to land right in the middle of another.
"No," she answered in a quiet murmur, fiddling with her phoenix pendant. "I wanted to leave, yes. But I did not choose any specific destination." She lowered her voice until it became almost inaudible. "I just wanted to get away from there."
"Ah." The old human hummed. "What are your intentions, then?"
She blinked at the bluntness of his question. Still, the old human looked to be simply curious and his expression was kind, so she saw no harm in enduring the mild interrogation. "I just want to live in peace." She answered, and decided to elaborate. If this world was at war, she'd rather not make enemies by acting too suspicious. Better to be honest and hope for the best, than to alienate the first potentially friendly people she met. "I had no wish to get involved in my world's war but, due to some poor choices on my father's part, I was involved anyway. I would have been hunted for the rest of my life if I hadn't left. Now that I'm here, I will fight to defend myself, but I'd rather not get thrown into a warzone."
The old mage nodded. "That is a very sensible goal. My companions and I are traveling with an objective, but it would be the height of discourtesy to leave a lady stranded alone in unfamiliar territory. If you would allow us, we could escort you somewhere you will be safe and out of the war, Lady…" He trailed off with a raised eyebrow.
Laliani blushed when she realized she hadn't introduced herself yet. "My name is Laliani Sunstrider." She answered, and bowed her head in place of a curtsy since she was still sat on the bedroll.
"A pleasure, Lady Laliani." The old man bowed his head in turn. "I am known by many names, but most call me Gandalf the Grey. These are Aragorn son of Arathorn, Boromir son of Denethor, Legolas Thranduilion, Gimli son of Glóin, Frodo Baggins, Samwise Gamgee, Meriadoc Brandybuck and Peregrin Took." He pointed to each of the males in turn, and each of them bowed respectfully as they were introduced.
"An honor to meet you all." She said politely. Finally feeling secure enough to cast a look around her, she immediately noticed something missing. "When you found me, did you perchance see a staff?"
The old mage and the male elf (half-elf?) glanced at each other before looking back at her. The mage answered. "I'm afraid none of us noticed anything, Lady Laliani, but if it is there, it will be found."
The male elf nodded and smiled. "I can go look for it if you wish, my lady."
She nodded. "Please, if you would, I'd be grateful. It is a precious family heirloom."
Legolas bowed his head in assent and promptly left.
Laliani looked at the scenery around her, avoiding the gaze of the males in the awkward silence that followed. The sun had almost set, but the soft half-light that still illuminated everything was enough for her to see there was no civilization for miles around. Average sized mountains covered with a thick and fresh looking layer of snow, combined with the yellow leaves and naked branches of the non-perennial trees around them and the cold, crisp quality of the air, advertised the season as the height of winter.
She was glad Dalaran had been relocated to Northrend, where the air was perpetually cold, because it meant she was still wearing one of her fur-lined cloaks, having not thought to take it off before summoning the portal.
Her inspection of her surroundings was interrupted by one of the human warriors, who crouched before her and looked at her with kind, intelligent gray eyes as he addressed her.
"Your manner of arrival has left you sporting a few scrapes, my lady. They should at least be cleaned so as to prevent infection. Would you allow me to do that?"
She wasn't exactly keen on having a stranger touch her, especially a human - one who was not even a priest or paladin, at that - but she wasn't really in a position to be rude and refuse help. And at least these humans didn't look at her with barely concealed disgust.
She would never forget that it was the prejudice of a human general that had driven her father to seek Illidan's help. Nor would she ever forgive.
Even so, her warm enchanted dress and cloak had proven to be adequate protection against her tribulated entry and, despite being sore and bruised all over, only her face had suffered a few minor cuts and contusions. There'd be no harm in letting the human help her with them. She'd take a healing potion later if it was needed.
He did it gently but efficiently and, by the time he was done, the others seemed to have completely relaxed to her presence and the male elf had returned with her staff, held gingerly in his hand as if afraid of it exploding.
"That is a beautiful weapon, Lady Laliani." The mage, Gandalf, complimented. "You said it is a family heirloom?"
She ran her eyes through the elaborately carved jeweled pommel, the red silk-wrapped handle and the glowing green focusing crystal flanked by the proud golden phoenix wings, symbol of the Sunstriders of Silvermoon.
"Yes, it has been in my family for generations. My father gave it to me when I reached my majority and was fully recognized as a mage." He'd also recognized her officially as a true princess of Silvermoon despite her illegitimacy, but her status as a noble didn't really matter anymore.
None of the males made any further comment, despite their obvious curiosity, and the next few minutes passed in another bout of awkward silence until the little being who had offered her water before and who had, until that moment, been puttering around with pots and pans around the fire, presented her with a bowl full of wonderful smelling stew. Once again, he simply blushed rather adorably as she thanked him.
Laliani hid an amused smile in a spoonful of stew. She liked this rather disparate group that had rescued her, humans and all - and she had a feeling she would grow to like this land, as well.
The next few days were filled with many revelations for the blood elf. She learned that the little beings were called hobbits, though many called them halflings, to their chagrin - and which she found quite insulting; who would like to be called half of anything? - and all the elves were like Legolas, meaning they had practically no ears or eyebrows.
Not that he wasn't good looking, she just found it strange. And yes, alright, it did detract a little from his appearance. But she wouldn't say that aloud; after all, she was the strange one here.
She was also taught some of the history of this world, something which filled her with awe. No wonder the magic felt like music; the whole world was created with a song! It was fascinating! She had questioned Gandalf extensively about the magic users of Arda - as the world was called; Middle Earth was just the continent they were on. Not that that made the name any less ridiculous, but who was she to judge? - and had been questioned in return. Together, they'd speculated that the fel energies that permeated her being ever since the corruption of the Sunwell might end up being purged from her through exposure to the clean, pure, wild magic that ran through every single thing in this world. It would be good to once again see blue eyes in the mirror.
She learned that there were only three wizards in Middle Earth. There used to be five, but two of them had not been seen in countless years. After having her mind boggled by this, she was told the leader of the still existing wizards had allied with the enemy, and her mind boggled further. What was it about power that people in charge always ended up corrupted?!
Even among all this new information, she noticed that not once was the purpose of their fellowship explained in detail. She did not ask, but she wasn't blind, nor was she an idiot. One of the hobbits, the quietest one, was constantly being the object of attentive looks - as if everyone else was reassuring themselves he was still with them, physically as well as mentally. Some of those looks though, particularly from the human Boromir, were less concerned and more covetous, even somewhat resentful, though he hid it well. No one said anything, but she was pretty sure it had something to do with an artifact from the enemy Gandalf had hinted at. Especially because Frodo's hand - that was the hobbit's name, she really had to make an effort to learn all their names, even if she was terrible at it. It was the polite thing to do, after all - kept straying to his chest, fingering something idly through the layers of his clothing.
They traveled during the day with only a short pause for lunch - though she'd noticed the hobbits snacking while they walked - and only stopped when the sun was about to set.
Laliani contributed to the Fellowship by lighting a small but very hot fire that would burn all night without need for fuel. She'd never learned how the protective dome around Dalaran had been created, or she would have attempted something similar for their nightly camps. She suspected, however, that it required some sort of permanent anchor to maintain, which made its viability moot in their case.
The Fellowship, despite their initial suspicions, had warmed up to her quickly, Gimli even pronouncing that she was "not like those other elves, so she was alright." Legolas had difficulty suppressing a snort, but smiled at her kindly, indicating he had not taken offense. The hobbits, who had gained the habit of circling her and pestering her for food when they'd learned she could conjure mana cakes, exchanged amused glances and snickers.
One late afternoon, they finally reached the next marker on their journey, a place called the Mines of Moria. Gimli had spoken at length about the his relative Balin, who was the supposed ruler of the place, and of how everyone was worried for there had been no contact from anyone there in years. She found it strange that no one had thought to check if there was something wrong before, but kept her counsel - this world did not have flying mounts, or even portals to make traveling between distant locations easier.
A lake of dark, murky waters lay between them and a tall, smooth wall of dark stone. The elven mage could see no sign of a door, but concluded - and Gandalf confirmed it - that it was hidden by spells.
Reluctant to be near such an ominous looking lake, and seeing the same reluctance in her companions, she took a deep breath and spoke up.
"I don't know about you, but I'd rather not walk on such a narrow path so near this water, Gandalf."
"I do not like the feel of it either, my dear lady, but there is no other path." The old wizard said. "As long as we dont disturb it, we should be fine."
"I can take us all to the other side, right in front of the wall." She blurted, nervous, for it would be the first time she showed what she was truly capable of doing, and how different from Gandalf's her magic really was. "No one would run the risk of slipping and disturbing the lake."
Gandalf's grizzled eyebrows rose high on his forehead, almost disappearing into his ever present hat. "You can fly?"
She shook her head. "No. I can transport myself and others instantly anywhere. Normally, I need to know exactly where I'm going, unless I create an unstable portal like the one that brought me here, but in this case line of sight and enough space to land is sufficient to get us all there safely and instantaneously." She noticed the uncomfortable expressions of the non-mages of the group, contrasting with the intrigued curiosity of the wizard, and hastened to reassure them. "I promise it's perfectly safe; I've done it many times. None of you will be in danger and there is no discomfort at all. You'll probably feel your skin tingling as the magic grips you, but that's all. One second you're here and the next you're in another place entirely."
"Perhaps you could demonstrate?" Gandalf suggested.
She nodded. "I'll go by myself first then. Watch." She concentrated, her eyes on her destination, gathered her mana and let herself go. In an instant, with a soft whisper of displaced air and a flash of blue light, she reappeared next to the smooth wall. Turning back toward the Fellowship she waved at them cheerfully, before teleporting herself back to them.
A gaping group of males greeted her.
Gandalf was the first to recover. "Well, it looks quite safe and simple. If you would then, my lady?"
Somewhat reluctantly, the members of the Fellowship gathered around her and she repeated the process, this time taking them all with her. She hid an amused smile at the sighs of relief from her companions when they confirmed they had all arrived intact.
The next few hours were spent entertaining the mischievous duo of hobbits, Merry and Pippin, and answering questions from the curious members of the Fellowship about Azeroth, as they all waited first for moonrise, as only moonlight would reveal the gates - a nifty bit of magic, that - and then for Gandalf to remember the password to open them.
When the doors finally opened - and Laliani tried hard to hide her amusement that the answer had been written on the doors all this time - they all entered the dark depths of Moria.
The elven mage only had time to gasp at the sudden feeling of a dark spell being cast when the doors closed with a bang, leaving them all in darkness.
Laliani's staff is based on the Golden Staff of the Sin'dorei, looted from Kil'jaeden in the Sunwell Plateau, if you want to check it out!