(( The only characters in this story that belong to me are Zaranda, and any
member of the Dark Council that should turn up. All the others are the
property of JRR Tolkien.
This story was originally written as 'Historys Ghost', but after re-reading
it I decided that it needed to be reworked. This is the result. Thank you!
))
Zaranda stood proud on the cliff, her black hair streaming out behind her like a banner. Her green eyes burned with fire as the spray from the wind tossed sea below drifted over her.
Power coursed through her veins as she accepted her mission on this world. She could feel the greasy presence of the Dark Council already at work, spinning their webs that would change the course of destiny. That was what she was here to prevent.
"I must start a web of my own, that reaches from Mordor to Gondor, from Rohan to Lorien, from Moria to the Shire. All lives along its strands will play a part in the future.
Hear this Crevadi!" and her voice, which had been a whisper, rang out. "You will fail in your mission here, as you have in so many places and times before. I will not let you take this world into darkness. I have the power to defy you, and the ones that you have corrupted for you own ends. I do not fear you."
Her voice quietened again. "But I must not interfere with what will be, no matter how much it aches my heart. For all is linked into one everlasting thread."
She fell silent again, before she raised her hands. In the gap between one breath of wind and the next, she vanished.
She reappeared in the centre of a busy village, hair falling neatly around her shoulders. She made a peculiar gesture with one hand, and the startled expression of the inhabitants faded away to unconcern as her sudden appearance faded from their minds. She glanced around to gain her bearings. The information that had been implanted into her mind when she accepted the mission filtered through.
She was standing in the centre of the village of Hobbiton, as the hobbits went about their business. Despite her presence in their midst, their eyes skidded away from her form, and an area around her was never entered.
A peculiar singing in her bones alerted her to the fact that one of the key people in this destiny was near. She turned, and heard the noise grow to a crescendo. The face that met her eyes was instantly recognised.
"Samwise Gamgee." She murmured, a smile flickering across her face. "This is a fortunate encounter. You are the first strand to be added, and through you, the others will be brought into the weave."
Zaranda turned her palms face upwards and closed her eyes. A thin silver network of strands emerged from her fingertips and wove in bewitching patterns around Sam. Then branches spread out and soared of into the blue sky as Zaranda extended her web, feeling the life force of the key characters pulsing along the threads that bound them to her, and her to them.
She felt their different tones add to the music of fate that rang in her mind, signifying that the linkage was complete. Any tremors in her web, and distortions in the music, would signify that something was not right.
Samwise walked on, oblivious of the events taking place around him. Zaranda nodded, and relaxed slightly. Then a tremor along one of her webs strands drew her attention, and she stiffened, before sending her mind out in a probe.
"Gandalf the Grey, right on time." She laughed as she relaxed, before she willed herself away. She should probably be there to make sure that nothing untoward happened.
She materialised close to a bank, out of the way of the main track that Gandalf was due to come down, and away from the area where hobbits would leap from.
"The Road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began." she heard the deep voice singing.
She concentrated, and wove her spell of nothingness more tightly around her. She knew that Istari could not see through the spells she wove, but it was better to be careful than to risk exposing herself to those she had to aid.
"You're late." Frodo's voice spoke, and her bones hummed with the power of his presence. "A wizard is never late Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."
Zaranda nodded. So far so good. Making sure that Frodo and Gandalf were occupied in their laughter, she climbed onto the back of the cart, making herself comfortable amongst the fireworks.
The cart rumbled into movement again as the greetings were over and done with. Zaranda kept one ear on the conversation, and let her mind run through the path that the future should take, looking for the places where the Dark Council could try to alter the course of destiny.
"What news of the outside world? Tell me everything." Frodo requested.
"Everything? Far to eager and curious for a hobbit. Most unnatural." Gandalf chided, the light of mischief in his eyes.
As he began to tell Frodo of the events that had occurred since his last visit, Zaranda gently and carefully reached into the Istari's mind and lifted the information about, both what he said, and what he didn't say. As the cart rumbled onwards, she sifted through it, looking for distortions.
What she found alarmed her. Nothing had been altered. The fabric of the world was as it should have been. The Dark Council had not altered anything. This was more worrying than if they had changed something.
"What are they planning?" she breathed, careful not to let the other occupants of the cart know that she was there.
The thought occupied her mind so much that she only vaguely registered the fact that Frodo had left the cart, and Gandalf was entering Bag End.
Trusting to her web to let her know if something should go wrong, she concentrated, and vanished, heading to the places where she thought she would find answers to her own questions.
Zaranda stood proud on the cliff, her black hair streaming out behind her like a banner. Her green eyes burned with fire as the spray from the wind tossed sea below drifted over her.
Power coursed through her veins as she accepted her mission on this world. She could feel the greasy presence of the Dark Council already at work, spinning their webs that would change the course of destiny. That was what she was here to prevent.
"I must start a web of my own, that reaches from Mordor to Gondor, from Rohan to Lorien, from Moria to the Shire. All lives along its strands will play a part in the future.
Hear this Crevadi!" and her voice, which had been a whisper, rang out. "You will fail in your mission here, as you have in so many places and times before. I will not let you take this world into darkness. I have the power to defy you, and the ones that you have corrupted for you own ends. I do not fear you."
Her voice quietened again. "But I must not interfere with what will be, no matter how much it aches my heart. For all is linked into one everlasting thread."
She fell silent again, before she raised her hands. In the gap between one breath of wind and the next, she vanished.
She reappeared in the centre of a busy village, hair falling neatly around her shoulders. She made a peculiar gesture with one hand, and the startled expression of the inhabitants faded away to unconcern as her sudden appearance faded from their minds. She glanced around to gain her bearings. The information that had been implanted into her mind when she accepted the mission filtered through.
She was standing in the centre of the village of Hobbiton, as the hobbits went about their business. Despite her presence in their midst, their eyes skidded away from her form, and an area around her was never entered.
A peculiar singing in her bones alerted her to the fact that one of the key people in this destiny was near. She turned, and heard the noise grow to a crescendo. The face that met her eyes was instantly recognised.
"Samwise Gamgee." She murmured, a smile flickering across her face. "This is a fortunate encounter. You are the first strand to be added, and through you, the others will be brought into the weave."
Zaranda turned her palms face upwards and closed her eyes. A thin silver network of strands emerged from her fingertips and wove in bewitching patterns around Sam. Then branches spread out and soared of into the blue sky as Zaranda extended her web, feeling the life force of the key characters pulsing along the threads that bound them to her, and her to them.
She felt their different tones add to the music of fate that rang in her mind, signifying that the linkage was complete. Any tremors in her web, and distortions in the music, would signify that something was not right.
Samwise walked on, oblivious of the events taking place around him. Zaranda nodded, and relaxed slightly. Then a tremor along one of her webs strands drew her attention, and she stiffened, before sending her mind out in a probe.
"Gandalf the Grey, right on time." She laughed as she relaxed, before she willed herself away. She should probably be there to make sure that nothing untoward happened.
She materialised close to a bank, out of the way of the main track that Gandalf was due to come down, and away from the area where hobbits would leap from.
"The Road goes ever on and on Down from the door where it began." she heard the deep voice singing.
She concentrated, and wove her spell of nothingness more tightly around her. She knew that Istari could not see through the spells she wove, but it was better to be careful than to risk exposing herself to those she had to aid.
"You're late." Frodo's voice spoke, and her bones hummed with the power of his presence. "A wizard is never late Frodo Baggins. Nor is he early. He arrives precisely when he means to."
Zaranda nodded. So far so good. Making sure that Frodo and Gandalf were occupied in their laughter, she climbed onto the back of the cart, making herself comfortable amongst the fireworks.
The cart rumbled into movement again as the greetings were over and done with. Zaranda kept one ear on the conversation, and let her mind run through the path that the future should take, looking for the places where the Dark Council could try to alter the course of destiny.
"What news of the outside world? Tell me everything." Frodo requested.
"Everything? Far to eager and curious for a hobbit. Most unnatural." Gandalf chided, the light of mischief in his eyes.
As he began to tell Frodo of the events that had occurred since his last visit, Zaranda gently and carefully reached into the Istari's mind and lifted the information about, both what he said, and what he didn't say. As the cart rumbled onwards, she sifted through it, looking for distortions.
What she found alarmed her. Nothing had been altered. The fabric of the world was as it should have been. The Dark Council had not altered anything. This was more worrying than if they had changed something.
"What are they planning?" she breathed, careful not to let the other occupants of the cart know that she was there.
The thought occupied her mind so much that she only vaguely registered the fact that Frodo had left the cart, and Gandalf was entering Bag End.
Trusting to her web to let her know if something should go wrong, she concentrated, and vanished, heading to the places where she thought she would find answers to her own questions.