Authors' Note: Boromir is coming *eventually*. We just aren't sure when. We had him locked up in the closet with all the others, but he got out. Now we have to dig out the heavy artillery and find him. Do you *know* how much wilderness there is in Newfoundland?* The Nightrunners troop out of the house in combat fatigues intent on hunting down Sean Bean*. Secondly, we would like to reassure everyone that Super Gandalf will return. At some point. We think he escaped with Boromir. This could cause problems... Final, we wish to remind you that there are *NO* Mary Sues in this fic. Please keep this in mind.
Namarie
First Blood:
Soundtrack: Livin' on the Edge (Aerosmith)
There's something wrong with the world today
I don't know what it is
Something's wrong with our eyes
We're seeing things in a different way
And God knows it ain't His
It sure ain't no surprise
We're livin' on the edge
There's something wrong with the world today
The light bulb's getting dim
There's a melt down in the sky
If you can judge a wise man
By the color of his skin
Then mister you're a better man than I
We're livin on the edge
You can't help yourself from fallin'
Livin' on the edge
You can't help yourself at all
Livin' on the edge
You can't stop yourself from fallin'
Livin' on the edge
Tell me what you think about your situation
Complication-aggravation
Is getting to you
If chicken little tells you that the sky is fallin'
And even if it wasn't would you still come crawlin'
Back again? I bet you would my friend
Again & again & again & again & again
Tell me what you think about your situation
Complication-aggravation
Is getting to you
If chicken little tells you that the sky is fallin'
And even if it wasn't would you still come crawlin'
Back again? I think you would my friend
Again & again & again & again
Something right with the world today
And everybody knows it's wrong
But we can tell them no or we can let it go
But I would rather be hanging on
Livin' on the edge
Livin' on the edge
Livin' on the edge
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Livin' on the edge
You can't help yourself from fallin'
You can't help yourself at all
Livin' on the edge
You can't stop yourself from fallin'
Livin' on the edge
You can't help yourself
You can't help yourself
Livin' on the edge
You can't help yourself at all
You can't help yourself
Livin' on the edge
You can't stop yourself from fallin'
Livin' on the edge
For an split second, everybody froze. Nothing breathed on the foggy streets.
Then, all hell broke loose.
The female mage screamed, her hands flying to her front, a ball of blue-hot flame exploding over her palms. She flung her projectile at Sam and Felix, who dove and rolled in opposite directions. Behind them, Peter dropped behind a newsscreen booth and yanked his knife from his boot.
Ice-Boy bared his teeth as Felix rolled to his feet, drawing his knife in one fluid motion. "Not gonna help you, kid. You're gonna *fry*!"
The young rocker snarled back, settling into a fighting stance. He'd had his share of scraps, and no way was he going to become another notch for some
hopped-up magic-junkie's belt. The mage circled and charged, his sharp-nailed fingers reaching for Felix's throat. The ex-hobbit expertly flashed his blade,
holding the magic-user at bay, though Ice-Boy scored a hit on his face. Glass-sharp nails raked his cheek, leaving burning trails of frost in their wake.
Ice-Boy flashed his blood-flecked claws triumphantly, and waved his hand. At the last second, Felix recognized the spell and dodged. A wave of killing frost
just clipped his shoulder and sent him spinning to the ground, his upper body and left arm numb and lifeless.
Joe Somebody and his friend charged in, lightning crackling around them. Gabe dove for cover as a blue-white bolt lanced the space he'd occupied a bare
second before. Falling back on the training that had saved his life may times before, he drew his gun and fired, twice. Joe the mage crumpled to the wet
pavement, screaming, blood flowing from his shoulder and thigh.
Peter leapt from his hiding place and threw his knife. It embedded itself with a satisfying *thud* in one of the mages' shoulders. Dreadlocks bellowed in pain
and swung towards the tall rocker, firing a spell as he did. Agile as a cat, Peter ducked and rolled, calling on street-honed instincts and quite a bit of luck. The
spell roared over his head and hit the huge, muscle-bound mage square in the center of his chest. His leather vest did little to cushion the blow as he was thrown
clear across the street and smashed into a brick building. The big mage slid bonelessly to the sidewalk and lay sprawled there, unmoving.
"Shit!" screamed Dreadlocks, and swung back towards Peter. But the young rocker was already moving. Locking his fingers into the mage's lank, dirty hair, he yanked him off balance, and threw him into the wall. Dreadlocks hit headfirst, slumped to the pavement, and didn't move again.
Gabe spun, looking for new targets. An instinct screamed just as Peter yelled "Gimli!!" He tried to dodge-
-Too late, as the female mage who had been hovering over his head let loose with a barrage of spells. She screamed in triumph as they smashed into their
intended target, her black tattoo contorting her face...
...which turned into screams of pain as every spell ricocheted off the unharmed Gabe, slamming back into their caster. Blue flames lined her body; her back
arched as every muscle in her body pulled tight. Her shrieks echoed in the streets as she smashed into the wet pavement, limbs twitching uncontrollably.
Ice-Boy advanced on the fallen Felix, who was struggling to force his frozen limbs into motion. He narrowed his eyes and closed the fingers of his right hand
around his knife. He'd only have one chance...
The white mage laughed. It was a horrible sound. "I said you were gonna fry. Correction: you're gonna *freeze*."
As he raised his hand for the killing blow, a blur of motion caught him mid-section. The mage's eyes widened as every breath of air was knocked out of his
lungs. He crashed to the sidewalk, Sam landing atop him like a rugby player. His knife flashed once, twice, slicing cuts across Ice-Boy's cheekbones. Then, very
purposefully, the burly rocker grabbed the stunned mage by the collar and slammed his head once, twice, three times off the sidewalk.
That left the final mage, who was suddenly looked so pathetic that it was almost laughable . He cast a glance about at his fallen friends, coming to a rather
smart decision. He took to his feet and bolted down the alley, clearing the ten-foot chain-link fence in a single leap. The sound of his running feet slowly faded away.
Sam bent and pulled his friend to his feet. Felix wrapped his good arm around Sam's neck to steady himself. He kissed him hard, his hand buried in his
lover's hair, then drew back. "Thanks." he grinned, flexing his fingers, trying to restore sensation.
Sam looked amused, then gently touched his cheek. "The bastard clawed you." he said, dabbing at the blood with his sleeve.
"S'okay. It's only shallow."
"I got him back for you." Sam flicked a glance at the unconscious mage on the sidewalk, blood trickling from the slashes on his cheeks and his nose, collecting
in a rather impressive puddle under his head.
Felix grimaced as he flexed his fingers and biceps. "Moving's gonna be a bit of a problem, though. He clipped me with a killer frost."
"Get your circulation going again, it'll pass."
Gabe, in the meantime, flicked the safety back on his gun, tucking it back into his holster. "Hey, hobbits. You all okay?"
Peter shook his head to clear it; that spell had nearly nailed him. Then he grinned. "Hey! I got two! I win!"
Felix rolled his eyes. "New plan. Let's all kill Peter."
Sam nodded vigorously. "I second that motion."
"Shut up!" hissed Gabe suddenly, holding up a hand to quiet them. The hobbits froze, tall frames stiffening in the light of the flickering incandescents.
It came again, a quiet whimpering from the shadows of the alley.
Gabe paused, his hand drifting towards his gun. Suddenly, he stopped. It sounded like...
...like a kid.