Title: Tolkien/Tamora Peirce
cross-over... Kinda.
Author: Me! ::Sticks out tongue::
BIG AUTHORS NOTE!!
OK, this is really long one, to bear w/ me.
This is basically in Tamora Peirce's world, but I stole Tolkien's hobbits and elves, and created some races of my own; then I proceeded to throw them into Peirce's world. Also, I won't put any characters from the books in my story, though I'll mention some for reference, like their dead and gone, ya know? So I don't want to hear any, "Where Legolas?" or anything, 'kay? Get it, got it, good!
Now, here's the background. (You know, like how the elves and hobbits got in Peirce's world)
Alright, so there's a bunch of worlds in this universe. (eg. All of the books I read. ^.^;) YOu know, like all of these realms sit next to each other. Think of a circle, equal pieces in it. Each piece is a realm, or world. As it happens, the Tolkien world and the Peirce world are next to one another. A couple thousand years ago, there was a possible that started small. By with time, it grew, until finally it couldn't be ignored. As a last ditch effort, Elrond, Gladrial and all of the powerful elves gathered hobbits, dwarves, elves, and men. A mili-second before the possible tear burst, the elves, knowing it would end they're lives, opened the tears, threw all of the people that had gathered through the tear, then closed, just before the "Tolkien" world collapsed. And, on the way to the Peirce world, some of the men were changed into different races. So... Here are the races that were "transported" to the Peirce world:
Hobbits Elves Dwarves
My Races:
Gremlins: Humans with donkey ears and tail. Very curious. LOVE messing with everyone.
Shifters: Humans that can change shape at will. Do NOT have the gift.
Earth Angles: Humans with wings. Are very scholarly, live with the dragons.
And I think that's it... So, without futher ado...
The story I have yet to name! ^.^;
Chapter 1
A lone rider rode up over the hill, pausing at the top. There, down in the valley, what was once a village. It was now a burnt out shell. There was no life coming from the village, no sounds of children playing, of women cleaning and cooking...
The young woman sighed, patting her horses neck, soothing the nervousness. She adjusted her cloak, making sure her head was covered, then slipped off the horse, and led the mare through the burnt out village. The wind whistled hollowly through the remains.
The woman bent down, and placed her hand next to the tracks that ran though the village.
Horses. Each carrying either a heavy-set man or a man in armor. A day old, if that.
The woman stood, nodding her head and brushing her hands off. Raiders. And from the tracks, the ones she had been tailing for the last week.
The woman leapt back onto the the horse, and wheeled her around. She rode out of the ruins, out the west side. She rode for a while, only stopping at dusk.
She slid off her horse, tied the mare to a tree, then crept back to the village. When she reached the village, she went back to where she had found the tracks earlier. She followed the tracks into the forest. Deeper and deeper she went, until she started to hear voices. Loud, drunk, male voices. Sliding the pole arm from it's holding on her back, she crept forward. The pole arm was about 4 - 4 1/2 feet tall, and was a hybrid between a hammer and a pick-ax.
Creeping behind a tree, the woman climbed up, then peered down at her quarry.
A large group of men, some fat, some skinny, all bearing weapons of some sort. They were all gathered around the huge, roaring fire, eating and drinking. Right under the tree where she was hidden, sat a huge man.
Sitting down, the woman couldn't tell what his height was, but she would bet that standing, he would be over six foot. Black hair reached past his shoulders, and looked greasy and dirty. He had a leg of mutton in one hand and a jug of something, presumidly ale, in the other. On the back of the chair hung one of the biggest battle axes the woman had ever seen. The woman glanced back to the man, and tensed to attack. Before she could jump, another man walked into the clearing, carrying a bundle thrown over his shoulder.
"Wulfgar!" The new man shouted, then spied the man sitting under the tree. Wulfgar straightened in his chair as the the man got closer.
"Well, Colthar?" Wulfgar asked. "Did you bring her back?"
The woman's eyes narrowed as Colthar laughed, then dumped the bundle he had at Wulfgar's feet.
Wulfgar smirked, then nudged the bag with his foot. When the bag didn't move, his smirk turned into a scowl.
"Why isn't she moving?" Wulfgar snapped, glaring at Colthar.
Colthar got a worried look on his face as he hurried to the bag.
"I don't know," Colthar said, untying the bag. "She was kicking like a wild thing a minute.."
Colthar was knocked backwards as two feet shot out of the partially opened bag.
As Colthar landed flat on his back, Wulfgar leapt up, grabbed the bag, and reached in, then let out a howl of pain. Snarling, he reached back in, and pulled out a young, hobbit girl, who was kicking, and thrashing. Her mouth was set in a tight line, and she had a wild, feral look in her eyes.
Wulfgar glared at the hobbit, and shook her before throwing her down. He grabbed some rope from his belt, then bent over and tied her arms and legs. He then tied a rope around her neck and tied the other end to the arm of the chair he sat at. Kit snarled silently, as rage poured through her at the sight of the girl struggling against the rope.
Sitting down, Wulfgar rubbed his hand, the reason being the teeth marks on his hand.
"You'll regret that, halfling," snarled Wulfgar, then he smiled cruelly. "You'll get you come-upance soon." At that he laughed, and all of the men joined.
Kit shivered, knowing that Wulfgar was speaking of. Knowing that she didn't have much time, Kit prepared to attack.
* * * * * * * *
Shay was scared. It wasn't the type of scared like when you see a spider or something. No, this was the mind-numbing, paralyzing scared that happened when you knew, that soon, you were going to die.
Shay knew she was going to die. And by the satisfied smirk on Wulfgar's face, it wasn't going to be a nice death, either.
Shay gulped, then winced. Before she had gotten away, she had angered Wulfgar, by calling him a very insulting name. He had grabbed her around her neck and had almost strangled her. Now, she had a ring of bruises the size of Wulfgar's hands around her neck. It hurt to swallow, and to talk was terrible.
Shay glanced up a Wulfgar, and grimaced. This was the oaf that had caught a hobbit. And by pure luck, too. If she hadn't been napping...
Suddenly, Shay heard a slight rustle in the tree above her. Not wanting to attract Wulfgar's attention, she leaned back against the tree, tipping her head up and closed her eyes partially. Through the slits of her eyes, she saw a person, with some sort of weapon, up in the tree.
Before she could do or say anything, the figure jumped down, it's cloak swirling around it's body, the hood covering it's face. The person swung the weapon in a wide arc. Only Wulfgar's cat-like reaction saved him. The other five that were standing around him fell, obviously not so lucky, Colthar among them.
The person spun around, taking out five men at a time with the weapon, a strange cross between a pick-ax and a hammer. And the person was quick, whoever they were. Within five minutes of the person having jumped, all of the men but Wulfgar were on the ground not moving.
The person was crouching by the time they were done. When the last man fell, the person stood, and started toward Wulfgar.
Wulfgar, who had remained immobile with shock until this moment, rose with a roar, and grabbed his ax. Before he could even swing it, the person leapt, swinging their weapon high, then brought it down as hard as they could, just as Wulfgar brought his ax up in a sweep.
The ax dropped from Wulfgar's dead fingers, and his body hit the ground with a sickening thud.
The person landed on their feet, then dropped to their knees. Shay, who had been, in spite of the pain, working on freeing herself, finally got the rope untied on her wrists. She ripped off the bindings on her ankles and untied her neck, not very gently, causing several gasps of pain. She started to run, but then heard the person who had attacked the brigands moan.
Shay hesitated, then looked back.
The person was lying on the ground, covered in blood, others and her own. She was bleeding, from a gash on her arm.
Shay was torn between seeing if anyone had survived in the village and saving this person. The person moaned again, and that decided it.
Shay ran over, and gently helped the person up, supporting them. The person was awake enough to walk, and so they left the clearing, leaving the bodies behind for the Stormwings.
TBC...
AN: Well? Any good? Hope so. Leave a review on your way out!
Author: Me! ::Sticks out tongue::
BIG AUTHORS NOTE!!
OK, this is really long one, to bear w/ me.
This is basically in Tamora Peirce's world, but I stole Tolkien's hobbits and elves, and created some races of my own; then I proceeded to throw them into Peirce's world. Also, I won't put any characters from the books in my story, though I'll mention some for reference, like their dead and gone, ya know? So I don't want to hear any, "Where Legolas?" or anything, 'kay? Get it, got it, good!
Now, here's the background. (You know, like how the elves and hobbits got in Peirce's world)
Alright, so there's a bunch of worlds in this universe. (eg. All of the books I read. ^.^;) YOu know, like all of these realms sit next to each other. Think of a circle, equal pieces in it. Each piece is a realm, or world. As it happens, the Tolkien world and the Peirce world are next to one another. A couple thousand years ago, there was a possible that started small. By with time, it grew, until finally it couldn't be ignored. As a last ditch effort, Elrond, Gladrial and all of the powerful elves gathered hobbits, dwarves, elves, and men. A mili-second before the possible tear burst, the elves, knowing it would end they're lives, opened the tears, threw all of the people that had gathered through the tear, then closed, just before the "Tolkien" world collapsed. And, on the way to the Peirce world, some of the men were changed into different races. So... Here are the races that were "transported" to the Peirce world:
Hobbits Elves Dwarves
My Races:
Gremlins: Humans with donkey ears and tail. Very curious. LOVE messing with everyone.
Shifters: Humans that can change shape at will. Do NOT have the gift.
Earth Angles: Humans with wings. Are very scholarly, live with the dragons.
And I think that's it... So, without futher ado...
The story I have yet to name! ^.^;
Chapter 1
A lone rider rode up over the hill, pausing at the top. There, down in the valley, what was once a village. It was now a burnt out shell. There was no life coming from the village, no sounds of children playing, of women cleaning and cooking...
The young woman sighed, patting her horses neck, soothing the nervousness. She adjusted her cloak, making sure her head was covered, then slipped off the horse, and led the mare through the burnt out village. The wind whistled hollowly through the remains.
The woman bent down, and placed her hand next to the tracks that ran though the village.
Horses. Each carrying either a heavy-set man or a man in armor. A day old, if that.
The woman stood, nodding her head and brushing her hands off. Raiders. And from the tracks, the ones she had been tailing for the last week.
The woman leapt back onto the the horse, and wheeled her around. She rode out of the ruins, out the west side. She rode for a while, only stopping at dusk.
She slid off her horse, tied the mare to a tree, then crept back to the village. When she reached the village, she went back to where she had found the tracks earlier. She followed the tracks into the forest. Deeper and deeper she went, until she started to hear voices. Loud, drunk, male voices. Sliding the pole arm from it's holding on her back, she crept forward. The pole arm was about 4 - 4 1/2 feet tall, and was a hybrid between a hammer and a pick-ax.
Creeping behind a tree, the woman climbed up, then peered down at her quarry.
A large group of men, some fat, some skinny, all bearing weapons of some sort. They were all gathered around the huge, roaring fire, eating and drinking. Right under the tree where she was hidden, sat a huge man.
Sitting down, the woman couldn't tell what his height was, but she would bet that standing, he would be over six foot. Black hair reached past his shoulders, and looked greasy and dirty. He had a leg of mutton in one hand and a jug of something, presumidly ale, in the other. On the back of the chair hung one of the biggest battle axes the woman had ever seen. The woman glanced back to the man, and tensed to attack. Before she could jump, another man walked into the clearing, carrying a bundle thrown over his shoulder.
"Wulfgar!" The new man shouted, then spied the man sitting under the tree. Wulfgar straightened in his chair as the the man got closer.
"Well, Colthar?" Wulfgar asked. "Did you bring her back?"
The woman's eyes narrowed as Colthar laughed, then dumped the bundle he had at Wulfgar's feet.
Wulfgar smirked, then nudged the bag with his foot. When the bag didn't move, his smirk turned into a scowl.
"Why isn't she moving?" Wulfgar snapped, glaring at Colthar.
Colthar got a worried look on his face as he hurried to the bag.
"I don't know," Colthar said, untying the bag. "She was kicking like a wild thing a minute.."
Colthar was knocked backwards as two feet shot out of the partially opened bag.
As Colthar landed flat on his back, Wulfgar leapt up, grabbed the bag, and reached in, then let out a howl of pain. Snarling, he reached back in, and pulled out a young, hobbit girl, who was kicking, and thrashing. Her mouth was set in a tight line, and she had a wild, feral look in her eyes.
Wulfgar glared at the hobbit, and shook her before throwing her down. He grabbed some rope from his belt, then bent over and tied her arms and legs. He then tied a rope around her neck and tied the other end to the arm of the chair he sat at. Kit snarled silently, as rage poured through her at the sight of the girl struggling against the rope.
Sitting down, Wulfgar rubbed his hand, the reason being the teeth marks on his hand.
"You'll regret that, halfling," snarled Wulfgar, then he smiled cruelly. "You'll get you come-upance soon." At that he laughed, and all of the men joined.
Kit shivered, knowing that Wulfgar was speaking of. Knowing that she didn't have much time, Kit prepared to attack.
* * * * * * * *
Shay was scared. It wasn't the type of scared like when you see a spider or something. No, this was the mind-numbing, paralyzing scared that happened when you knew, that soon, you were going to die.
Shay knew she was going to die. And by the satisfied smirk on Wulfgar's face, it wasn't going to be a nice death, either.
Shay gulped, then winced. Before she had gotten away, she had angered Wulfgar, by calling him a very insulting name. He had grabbed her around her neck and had almost strangled her. Now, she had a ring of bruises the size of Wulfgar's hands around her neck. It hurt to swallow, and to talk was terrible.
Shay glanced up a Wulfgar, and grimaced. This was the oaf that had caught a hobbit. And by pure luck, too. If she hadn't been napping...
Suddenly, Shay heard a slight rustle in the tree above her. Not wanting to attract Wulfgar's attention, she leaned back against the tree, tipping her head up and closed her eyes partially. Through the slits of her eyes, she saw a person, with some sort of weapon, up in the tree.
Before she could do or say anything, the figure jumped down, it's cloak swirling around it's body, the hood covering it's face. The person swung the weapon in a wide arc. Only Wulfgar's cat-like reaction saved him. The other five that were standing around him fell, obviously not so lucky, Colthar among them.
The person spun around, taking out five men at a time with the weapon, a strange cross between a pick-ax and a hammer. And the person was quick, whoever they were. Within five minutes of the person having jumped, all of the men but Wulfgar were on the ground not moving.
The person was crouching by the time they were done. When the last man fell, the person stood, and started toward Wulfgar.
Wulfgar, who had remained immobile with shock until this moment, rose with a roar, and grabbed his ax. Before he could even swing it, the person leapt, swinging their weapon high, then brought it down as hard as they could, just as Wulfgar brought his ax up in a sweep.
The ax dropped from Wulfgar's dead fingers, and his body hit the ground with a sickening thud.
The person landed on their feet, then dropped to their knees. Shay, who had been, in spite of the pain, working on freeing herself, finally got the rope untied on her wrists. She ripped off the bindings on her ankles and untied her neck, not very gently, causing several gasps of pain. She started to run, but then heard the person who had attacked the brigands moan.
Shay hesitated, then looked back.
The person was lying on the ground, covered in blood, others and her own. She was bleeding, from a gash on her arm.
Shay was torn between seeing if anyone had survived in the village and saving this person. The person moaned again, and that decided it.
Shay ran over, and gently helped the person up, supporting them. The person was awake enough to walk, and so they left the clearing, leaving the bodies behind for the Stormwings.
TBC...
AN: Well? Any good? Hope so. Leave a review on your way out!