Primitive Instincts

                                                By Half Awake Warning

Disclaimer: I do not own Lord of the Rings, and I never have done. I could not have created this amazing phenomenon, and I don't think I could have survived if I did. Everything belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, besides the plot and any characters that you do not recognize.

Author's Note: Larne is pronounced Lar-nay. Thank-you to those that reviewed my first chapter, I am rather prone to writer's block but reviews are like medicine to my fault and help speed me along. :). Also I am looking for a beta-reader so if anyone would like to volunteer then E-mail or IM me – I love hearing from readers!

                                                Chapter 1

                                    The Hours of Darkness

She saw the smoke before they did. She could feel the anger and hatred before they did. She knew that death was coming before they did. The small child sighed, what was the point? She knew full well that her voice would not be heard by her peers or the big people. They did not take part in what had become 'Larne's silly games." They never took her seriously, even if she was only a small child not yet tainted by age or wisdom. She could only pray on her good fortune that the smoke would not tarnish her home.

It had been four years to the day that a woman out collecting fruit had stumbled upon a baby, a baby that she felt compelled to save for a stroke of bad luck and ill health would be placed upon her if she did not save one so innocent. However the human inhabitants of the village also held the belief that when one is an orphan, one is an ill omen of bad luck.

And with Larne this had proved to be the case. Although she did not mean for such things to happen in her presence, things always went wrong when she was around. Maybe it was the humans' fear of her and the bad luck they felt she held, and in their attempts to get away from her they caused accidents which made things out to be far worse than they seemed. Maybe the child really was cursed, for some held the suspicion that an orphan is a bane to the earth and was being punished for a mistake in another world.

Larne did not understand this, for although she held an inquisitive and quick mind, she was still young and had not the knowledge or experience to realise why people acted strange around her. She thought that nothing was wrong with her, even though she was different from the other children. She looked no different to them; instead everyone held focus to her past and the fact that she had no parents. Lavish stories had been fed to her mind; they told stories to her of the dreadful day that she arrived and how they were forced to bring her up and they had little choice on the matter.

But despite the thought that she was a curse and was forced upon the village for failing harvests, the inhabitants treated her as one of their own. Strange as it may seem they also felt compelled to treat her well, and although it was not out of love or generosity, it was better than being treated as a curse all the time.

Larne started humming to herself as she sat up in a tree, looking out over the sunset that was falling over the land. Soon it would be dark, and she would need to get back to the village. It was not unusual for her to wander off into the forest; she spent most of her time in solitude. This was the resultant factor that she thought she was better than those she lived with. She had forever been a tidy child always neat and careful about her appearance. When she had started becoming more independent yet was unsure of the reasons why people acted differently around her, she had feared that the reason was because she was dirty and so this cause had an effect on her state of mind. It had grew to an unhealthy obsession that everything needed to be perfect, from her clothes and appearance to the world around her. It would only later she found that everyone else around her did not take the same pride as she did in everything she would do.

This obsession had been the reason she refrained from playing normal games with the others, as she did not want to be contaminated by them. She preferred to be with animals, making them perfect like her. Her lack of social skills with others was balanced out by something that had become very close to Larne's heart, her pet animal. It was a small creature that could fit quite comfortably in her pocket. It was covered in fur with four tiny feet, and had a small wet nose and big brown eyes. Larne didn't know what it was, so she called him her friend. She kept him a secret from the adults, for they would only ridicule her more if they found out she spent most of her day talking to an animal.

He was snoring peacefully in her pocket as she hummed, she was picking up the pieces of wood that she had been playing with up in the tree, tidying up her mess. Larne checked that everything was the way it was when she had first arrived before climbing down the tree, rather hesitantly it might be said.

As she walked home, she once again noticed the smoke that she had seen rising from the trees and shuddered, it was getting closer and closer. Maybe someone would listen to her this time; maybe they would understand what she did not.

Worry of the smoke made the journey home quicker than usual. A small house on the outskirts of the village was where she resided with a couple who had tried to have children but had been unsuccessful. They were also viewed as bad luck by the villagers, although this was only in context and it seemed fitting that Larne should be adopted by them. The couple treated her well, and a good relationship was shared by the three.

"You're late Larne," the female said as the child edged through the door.

"It wasn't my fault, I saw something." Larne began, but she was cut off by the male.

"What was it this time, hey?" he asked, cocking an eyebrow as he polished his boots.

Larne resented the tone in his voice; they weren't going to listen to her words. She was making it up, like last time when the same thing had happened. She could remember that night as if it had happened only yesterday, the humiliation, the tears, and the embarrassment. Many had forgotten since, but the thought had been branded with fire in her mind, and still the flame had not been spent.

"Nothing." She whispered.

                                                x~X~x

Dinner that night was a silent affair, Larne kept her head down and her mouth shut. That way she couldn't get into trouble or be wrongly accused of a crime that she couldn't have committed, that way the trouble fell from her name. It was a tactic that she took upon herself with many things, locking everything away behind a locked door but eventually the strong barrier that she was hiding everything behind would eventually come crashing down like a waterfall bursting through a barrier of stone.

Larne didn't like water. It was an omen that she did not yet understand, like many things. No matter how grown up she pretended she was, there was no escaping the fact that she was a child, and that didn't credit for much.

In the dark, cold, silent hours of the night, Larne lay awake. Sleep would not come to her; her mind was too alert and full of fear. It felt like something she had felt before, but she didn't know where the feeling had come from. She wasn't even entirely sure whether she was awake, she could have been awake in a dream that she was having. Or maybe she was drifting on the border somewhere in the middle, a place where only the frightened lingered.

But why was she frightened?

Larne didn't know. Not even a quick check on Friend had eased her mind, like it normally would. She lay huddled under her blankets, wishing that she could run next door into the safety of adult arms. But they wouldn't allow that, that was not something that her carers could provide. She needed what she didn't have, what she never would have.


So she did the only thing that she could do safely under the covers of her bed, she asked the lord in the sky to protect her village and its inhabitants. She asked him to watch over the trees and the animals and to keep the smoke from clouding her home. A childish wish from a childish mind, but it was enough to convince Larne that everything would suffice and that no hurt would befall her world.

But it wasn't long until the first sign that something was wrong fell upon the sleeping village. Screams pierced through the air. Terror spread like disease through the clouds. Smoke billowed up from the remains of a prosperous village, now corrupted and slowly burning by a great fire. The smoke had come. Metal clashed against soft, innocent skin. Fires burned and clawed for their meat, licking hungrily at the promised meal.

Larne felt strong arms lifting her from her bed, and squirmed in their grip. It took mere second for her eyes to adjust to the light, but when they did she was convulsed by fear. She was already outside the house, and was being carried towards the trees. She saw humans running, humans panicking, humans frightened. And then she saw humans killing, humans hurting, humans ruining.

She watched as her adoptive parents ran back to the village, trying to do the little they could to try and save those still trapped, watched as they fought against this strange army of men, dirty and menacing. How her young eyes were reminded…

The memory came back to her in a flash of lightening, until all that she saw around her was burning and the only sounds were those of screams. Peril and darkness filled her senses, she could not escape the clutch of evil that had woven it's terror into her heart with silver steel and a black shadow. Someone running, someone trying to save something. Someone following, such hatred.

She shook with tears and sobs as she came back to herself. She remembered the smoke. She remembered how she thought they wouldn't believe her, and how she had not warned them. It was all her fault.

Larne fell into the quickest human emotion to react – denial. She wanted to run from the frenzy, from the death, from the terror. She reached into her pocket, and her heart stopped – her only friend wasn't there.

Her logic fell to the floor, and all reason for running away abandoned her mind. She ran back to the slaughter. Her nightclothes were dirty, her hair in rats tails, she was loosing all sense of self. Larne had to find him. Smoke had washed over her home; it was slowly burning it to the ground. She covered her mouth with one hand, and used the other to push through the debris. Eyes watering, mouth choking, voice screaming but Larne didn't give up. In her mad attempt to reach her room, she fell over something on the floor that her eyes had missed.

Scrambling to her feet, Larne ran the last stretch to her room unaware of the presence behind her. She threw her belongings aside searching for the box, her room had been slashed in search for life. She heard a small squeak coming from under her bed. Larne grabbed the wooden box and turned to run through the door.

But someone was blocking the exit, and only one thing was on his mind. He had a job to do. Larne froze, her small body shaking. The sword in his hand had only one purpose in life, in that moment it was her blood. Her feet were stuck to the floor, she couldn't obey the one command her mind was screaming at her.

'RUN!'

Something in her heart brought life to her feet, with the box clutched to her chest, she darted between his legs and fled from the room. She heard the assassin growl in annoyance, sending her forth only faster. Dead bodies filled her sight, of children and adults alike, their blood spilled and their life quenched. The stench greeted her nose causing her to wretch, but she couldn't be caught. She ran further and further into the forest, towards the trees where she had spent her day only hours earlier.

When she had reached the safety of the tree, her weary limbs lifted her up. She opened the box and rescued the only life that she had managed to save, her small furry pet. Her tears washed over the blood of his cuts and she clutched him to her chest, holding him as tight as she dared. He was all she had left now, because of her. Her bad luck had been the cause again, she had kept her mouth shut at a time when she should have spoken.

Her wish had been unanswered, and her faith fell in all good with her innocence. Her smooth face that had once been clean and pure was now tainted with the blood of an entire village.

"And it's all my fault!" She screamed as the smoke rose into the sky, and the screams of the dying choked her ears.