Evil Destroyed
A/N- Sorry for the delay. Been busy, what with school starting and all. When the King Arthur bits start coming in, I use some characters/settings/concepts and such from 'The Once and Future King' (T H White's, not mine), 'Le Morte d'Arthur' (Malory's, not mine), 'The Forever King/The Broken Sword' (Molly Cochran and Warren Murphey's, not mine) and 'The Mists of Avalon' (Marion Zimmer Bradley's, not mine). They're not mine, but they are all very good books that you wonderful people should consider reading if you haven't already. So here it is, chappy 4.
Chapter 4
' I guess we'd better get started.' Frodo had said. So the confused Nine Walkers (well, actually there were now only SEVEN Walkers) had started doing what they did best. Walking. With no (Middle) earthly idea where they were going. They had no trail to follow, no map, heck, they didn't even know if they were going in the right direction. Finally, after they had been wandering aimlessly for the better part of three hours, Frodo stopped.
"We're getting close." Was all he would say. Sam noticed worriedly that Frodo had started to fiddle with the necklace Arwen had given him. Not good.
Another half-hour's worth of walking finally found them on the outskirts of a town. It was smaller than Gondor and bigger than Bree. It was large enough that they wouldn't be able to search it in a timely manner as one large group, yet would be too dangerous for each to go off on their own. So Aragorn proposed a plan.
"Let's split up, shall we? Frodo and Sam will come with me and search for the One Ring on the east side of this town, and the rest of you will search the west side. We meet back here at dusk. And keep your guard up, everyone. We do not yet know what perils are hidden here."
The Fellowship agreed, and quickly went their separate ways.
~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^
"So, Gandalf, old friend, what is it that we're looking for again?"
Gandalf looked at Bilbo with pity. 'Poor Bilbo,' he thought, 'I just told him an hour ago. His age really has caught up to him.' The wizard sighed and started to explain.
"Galadriel, you, and I are all searching for a relic called the Holy Grail. It is supposed to be an object of pure good, and will hopefully counter-act the Ring. It was last seen by the King of this land, shown to him in a dream by his God."
"Ah, yes, of course. Now I remember." Bilbo said. "It's a shame old Shadowfax isn't here, isn't it, Gandalf? With a horse that fast, we'd have probably already found this Grail."
Before the Grey Pilgrim could respond, Galadriel spoke.
"Be still. Someone approaches." She whispered in a mysterious voice. Sure enough, as Gandalf turned around, he saw a lone horseman in the distance, riding toward them. It was not long before the rider was beside them, greeting them.
"Good day, noble sirs, fair lady. I am called Sir Lancelot du Lac, and I seek the. . ." Sir Lancelet trailed off as he observed Galadriel and Gandalf closely for the first time. He blinked one, twice, before he nearly fell off the horse as he dismounted. He fell to his knees.
"Merlyn, Queen Guenevere, what ever are you doing here?"
* * * * *
"So, you seek the Holy Grail, yet you cannot tell me who you are, why you seek it, or where you come from. And you happen to have an uncanny resemblance to the Queen and the King's advisor. I must say I have little reason to trust you." Sir Lancelot said slowly. He was still shaken by the fact that the beautiful woman in front of him resembled so closely the queen that had so long been the source of his longing and torment. The only differences were the pointed ears and the eyes. Guen's eyes were always filled with the same look of love and pain that mirrored Lancelot's own. This stranger's eyes, though the same in color (the clear blue that one would only think could appear in the sky on the clearest day, or in the purest stream), were infinitely different. They were the eyes of someone ancient and wise, who had faced more trials than most and survived. And the man, he could have been Merlyn's twin. There were no differences, from the beard and the voice, to the pointed hat and staff.
"You would not believe us if we told you, Sir Lancelot." Said the pseudo-Merlyn.
"Trust me, good sir, I've lived in Camelot for years. I've seen magic swords, wizards, talking owls, and all manners of strange things. I do not think any tale you tell me will be too bizarre for me to believe."
"Very well then, Lancelot," said the pointy-ear woman. "I am called Galadriel. . .
~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^
Merry was tired. Tired of walking, tired of searching, tired of strange people staring at him and quickly walking away, and tired of hearing Pippin complain about how tired and hungry HE was. Which, Merry noted, did nothing to remedy the situation, and only reminded everyone of their hunger.
"Maybe we should go back now." Gimli said suddenly. "It will be dusk by the time we get there." Merry wholeheartedly agreed with him. He wanted to get away from the tall metal towers, bright lights, noises, and strange horseless carriages, and rest.
"I think we should stay, just a little longer." Stated Pippin, to Merry's surprise. Hadn't Pippin been the one complaining?
"Yes, my heart tells me we should not leave yet." Said Legolas, in a far off voice. "I feel that we are close." Merry groaned.
At that moment, a scream suddenly filled the air, followed by a loud crash. The noise came from a darkened alley. The four Fellowship members ran in, drawing their weapons.
It took a moment for Merry's eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, he was horrified by what he saw. Three huge men were attacking a young human. Two appeared to be unarmed, but the third carried a knife, and was drawing nearer and nearer to the helpless human. Merry felt rage burning within him. He was NOT going to let these hulking monsters butcher that person. Despite the fact that he was only a hobbit, and they were huge men, he jumped in the way, his dagger drawn and ready to attack. His three companions must have had similar thoughts, because they also joined the fray. In a matter of moments, the three attackers were lying unconscious in the alley.
Legolas knelt down beside the frightened human that was now huddled in a corner. "Are you hurt, young one?" he asked, in a soft voice. It (it wasn't really an it, but in the darkness, Merry couldn't tell whether the victim of the attack was male or female, so he was forced to think of it as an it) shook its head slowly. "Then let's get out of this place and back into the light." He said, in the same gentle voice. This time, there was a nod.
As the young one stepped into the light, the dwarf, elf, and hobbits all gasped. It wasn't because they saw it was a she (which, indeed, it was), or because she was hurt (she appeared to be unharmed, except for a cut on her right cheek were the attacker's knife must have clipped her). No, the four warriors gasped because they saw, on a chain around her neck, she bore the One Ring of Power.
~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^
A/N. You like it? I hope you do. Just thought I'd say a few things. First of all, don't get angry with me if I spell some of the King- Arthur names a little weird. They very from story to story, so I just picked the spelling that I liked the best. Second, I really appreciate reviews, so if you have any questions/comments/criticisms/suggestions, feel free to click that little button and tell me. All right, that's all, folks! May the force be with y'all!
A/N- Sorry for the delay. Been busy, what with school starting and all. When the King Arthur bits start coming in, I use some characters/settings/concepts and such from 'The Once and Future King' (T H White's, not mine), 'Le Morte d'Arthur' (Malory's, not mine), 'The Forever King/The Broken Sword' (Molly Cochran and Warren Murphey's, not mine) and 'The Mists of Avalon' (Marion Zimmer Bradley's, not mine). They're not mine, but they are all very good books that you wonderful people should consider reading if you haven't already. So here it is, chappy 4.
Chapter 4
' I guess we'd better get started.' Frodo had said. So the confused Nine Walkers (well, actually there were now only SEVEN Walkers) had started doing what they did best. Walking. With no (Middle) earthly idea where they were going. They had no trail to follow, no map, heck, they didn't even know if they were going in the right direction. Finally, after they had been wandering aimlessly for the better part of three hours, Frodo stopped.
"We're getting close." Was all he would say. Sam noticed worriedly that Frodo had started to fiddle with the necklace Arwen had given him. Not good.
Another half-hour's worth of walking finally found them on the outskirts of a town. It was smaller than Gondor and bigger than Bree. It was large enough that they wouldn't be able to search it in a timely manner as one large group, yet would be too dangerous for each to go off on their own. So Aragorn proposed a plan.
"Let's split up, shall we? Frodo and Sam will come with me and search for the One Ring on the east side of this town, and the rest of you will search the west side. We meet back here at dusk. And keep your guard up, everyone. We do not yet know what perils are hidden here."
The Fellowship agreed, and quickly went their separate ways.
~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^
"So, Gandalf, old friend, what is it that we're looking for again?"
Gandalf looked at Bilbo with pity. 'Poor Bilbo,' he thought, 'I just told him an hour ago. His age really has caught up to him.' The wizard sighed and started to explain.
"Galadriel, you, and I are all searching for a relic called the Holy Grail. It is supposed to be an object of pure good, and will hopefully counter-act the Ring. It was last seen by the King of this land, shown to him in a dream by his God."
"Ah, yes, of course. Now I remember." Bilbo said. "It's a shame old Shadowfax isn't here, isn't it, Gandalf? With a horse that fast, we'd have probably already found this Grail."
Before the Grey Pilgrim could respond, Galadriel spoke.
"Be still. Someone approaches." She whispered in a mysterious voice. Sure enough, as Gandalf turned around, he saw a lone horseman in the distance, riding toward them. It was not long before the rider was beside them, greeting them.
"Good day, noble sirs, fair lady. I am called Sir Lancelot du Lac, and I seek the. . ." Sir Lancelet trailed off as he observed Galadriel and Gandalf closely for the first time. He blinked one, twice, before he nearly fell off the horse as he dismounted. He fell to his knees.
"Merlyn, Queen Guenevere, what ever are you doing here?"
* * * * *
"So, you seek the Holy Grail, yet you cannot tell me who you are, why you seek it, or where you come from. And you happen to have an uncanny resemblance to the Queen and the King's advisor. I must say I have little reason to trust you." Sir Lancelot said slowly. He was still shaken by the fact that the beautiful woman in front of him resembled so closely the queen that had so long been the source of his longing and torment. The only differences were the pointed ears and the eyes. Guen's eyes were always filled with the same look of love and pain that mirrored Lancelot's own. This stranger's eyes, though the same in color (the clear blue that one would only think could appear in the sky on the clearest day, or in the purest stream), were infinitely different. They were the eyes of someone ancient and wise, who had faced more trials than most and survived. And the man, he could have been Merlyn's twin. There were no differences, from the beard and the voice, to the pointed hat and staff.
"You would not believe us if we told you, Sir Lancelot." Said the pseudo-Merlyn.
"Trust me, good sir, I've lived in Camelot for years. I've seen magic swords, wizards, talking owls, and all manners of strange things. I do not think any tale you tell me will be too bizarre for me to believe."
"Very well then, Lancelot," said the pointy-ear woman. "I am called Galadriel. . .
~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^
Merry was tired. Tired of walking, tired of searching, tired of strange people staring at him and quickly walking away, and tired of hearing Pippin complain about how tired and hungry HE was. Which, Merry noted, did nothing to remedy the situation, and only reminded everyone of their hunger.
"Maybe we should go back now." Gimli said suddenly. "It will be dusk by the time we get there." Merry wholeheartedly agreed with him. He wanted to get away from the tall metal towers, bright lights, noises, and strange horseless carriages, and rest.
"I think we should stay, just a little longer." Stated Pippin, to Merry's surprise. Hadn't Pippin been the one complaining?
"Yes, my heart tells me we should not leave yet." Said Legolas, in a far off voice. "I feel that we are close." Merry groaned.
At that moment, a scream suddenly filled the air, followed by a loud crash. The noise came from a darkened alley. The four Fellowship members ran in, drawing their weapons.
It took a moment for Merry's eyes to adjust to the darkness, but when they did, he was horrified by what he saw. Three huge men were attacking a young human. Two appeared to be unarmed, but the third carried a knife, and was drawing nearer and nearer to the helpless human. Merry felt rage burning within him. He was NOT going to let these hulking monsters butcher that person. Despite the fact that he was only a hobbit, and they were huge men, he jumped in the way, his dagger drawn and ready to attack. His three companions must have had similar thoughts, because they also joined the fray. In a matter of moments, the three attackers were lying unconscious in the alley.
Legolas knelt down beside the frightened human that was now huddled in a corner. "Are you hurt, young one?" he asked, in a soft voice. It (it wasn't really an it, but in the darkness, Merry couldn't tell whether the victim of the attack was male or female, so he was forced to think of it as an it) shook its head slowly. "Then let's get out of this place and back into the light." He said, in the same gentle voice. This time, there was a nod.
As the young one stepped into the light, the dwarf, elf, and hobbits all gasped. It wasn't because they saw it was a she (which, indeed, it was), or because she was hurt (she appeared to be unharmed, except for a cut on her right cheek were the attacker's knife must have clipped her). No, the four warriors gasped because they saw, on a chain around her neck, she bore the One Ring of Power.
~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^ ~ _ ^
A/N. You like it? I hope you do. Just thought I'd say a few things. First of all, don't get angry with me if I spell some of the King- Arthur names a little weird. They very from story to story, so I just picked the spelling that I liked the best. Second, I really appreciate reviews, so if you have any questions/comments/criticisms/suggestions, feel free to click that little button and tell me. All right, that's all, folks! May the force be with y'all!