Disclaimer: I don't own anything you'll recognize.
Heart Beat Nightingale
Chapter 1: Escape North-West.
The putrid smell of orc flesh sorrounding the fallen tree hurted her sharp sense of scent, while the tree branches were now pinning her painfuly to the wet forest ground. The floor shaked with every step the waise and gigantic creature gave to found its rider's body, and trees were falling all around because of the impact its clawed foot produced at the floor.
Reth! Answer to my call! Where are you?! the beast yelled mentaly. A hollow echo came in return. Reth, where are you, for the Valars' sake!
There was a long silence. then, a weak whisper
Here, here I am! Under a tree! The response came after a while, in a desperate whispering voice thet echoed in the beast's mind.
The mighty creature sinffed the air, searching for his friend's scent. Finally he tasted the smell of what he would rather not: the fareful odor of the key to life or death: the smell of blood.
You're bleeding! the dragon thought. Yes, the mighty creature searching for this Reth was a fully grown ancient dragon, and, as you might have noticed, they used to be too magnificent and intelligent to refere to them as animals, as its, 'cause not only were they powerful, fire controller creatures, but wise and irresistible, as much or more than Men (because of their extraordinary experience and capacity to see and think about things and life in a different way).
His mouth had the length of a man and a half put together, and to give you an idea of the dragon's length, that was big, even for one of his kindmates. His scales were a graysh colour, mixed in some sections with a dirty old brown and green, and his wings were strong and huge, with a thin and strong membrane from one long finger to another, and on the fold of them, there was a powerful clawed finger. His eyes were an amber colour, and their pupils were long and vertical, while his head was crowned with six horns, three in each side. Long and sharp spikes run all through his spine, and disappeared in the end of his tail, which had a triangular shape, reminding everyone who saw it about a powerful iron blade.
Yes, that was the dragon searching for this fellow we know nothing about yet.
It's nothing! Nothing I can't handle with! Here I am, under a tree, follow my scent! Quickly, Draco, they're coming! the mental connection was broken, and the dragon looked around, and found his target.
Draco, the dragon, approached towards an old, rotten fallen oak, grabbed it, and lifted up with his mighty claws, throwing it aside.
There, covered in blood and mud, layed a woman, a tall moray, beautiful woman, with midly long dark brown hair, and amber eyes, just like the dragon's. Her head and breast were bleeding, as well as both her legs, and her elven war costumes were covered in filth and black blood, probably from the poor devils who stood in her path violently.
Draco raised his head taken aback by the woman's phisical stage.
"You said it was nothing! There's no time anyway, we must leave now!" the dragon said, harshly, and the injured woman somehow managed to jump on his spiked back, at an incredible height, just when the orcs' horrible snoring voices broke into the umpenetrable and deadly silence, causing the deadly harmony to breake loudly.
"I don't like this, Grishnakh, that woman had something strange, and I feel it's nothing good," the smaller orc snored, who was nearly in all fours, his head held upwards, nosing the hollow air.
The orc behind who was a huge Uruk-Hai, kicked him hard, provoking him to fall rolling over a little hill covered in corpes. The small orc gave a shriek, and backed up, farefully.
"Stop complaining, you filthy scenter! We must find her, she can't be far...keep walking, you dog!" Grishnakh roared at him. The scenter stared at the clare in front of him, and saw all the orc bodies around a fallen tree, and smelled the air once again. He was competely taken aback and frightened at the sight of the dragon's enormous footprints, and to notice he had fallen in one of them. The little orc gasped, and draw back, shaking his defigurated head furiously.
"I'm getting hell out of here! She's with the dragon, she'll roast us as she did with the others!," he yelled, and tripped over a dead body, falling at Grishnaks feet.
"No you're not! I'll twist your neck before you do!" he yelled, and grabbed the scenter by his neck. Somehow, the little orc managed to get rid of the Uruk-Hai's strong arms, and escape, making the furious orc to run after him, while yelling all sort of courses.
While all these was happening, this woman, Reth, and Draco, the dragon, where already far from them, and heading noth west, towards an unknown destiny.
"Where are we going? Draco, there's no safe place with balrogs and orcs everywhere," the injured woman asked, hopless.
"We're leaving Rhûn," the Dragon answered, simply.
Reth turned her head, and attached herself to the nearest spike.
"What? No! What about the elves?!"
Draco flapped his enormous wings, as to have more heigh, then turned his horned head to her, and said, "They'll be fine, we're heading towards Rivendell," and that was the end of the speech.
Reth had never been to Rivendell, but the stories she had been told by the elves at Rûhn where more than enough at a point she could manage to make a mental picture of the Last Homely House, where Elrond and his people dwelt.
After some minutes of flight, the blood lose started making effect on her, and she could no longer sit still, so she closed her amber eyes, and layed herself against the dragon's neck.
Night had fallen, dark was inmense, and stars were bright. In the third day of journeying through the firmament, were the woman and the dragon, her amber eyes had layed shut for what the journey had lasted, and her wounds were no longer visible, though the mark would remain for no longer than a cuples of days, 'cause no scar could last long in her pure body.
Slowly, she opened her eyelids to found a completely different landscape, much more crowded that it was in Rhûn, with tall green oks and pines moving in the rythm of the night, and marry streams running everywhere, sad and beautiful willows at their sides, containing a music she had never hared at the dead and burnt lands of Rhûn, where evilness regined, except for the forests of the exiles, hidden in the somber sea of Rhûn, where few men lived together with small comunity of elves, and everything was harmonious, except there was no rest, and therefore, no peace or happiness.
Reth's homeland had been long before devastated by the Dark Fire, and was home of Balrogs, orcs, and evil dragons. The main problem was the expanding of Balrogs, which was now growing towards Mirkwood's frontairs, and Dor Goldur was once again home of obscure spirits and evil demons, and no place was secure for the forest elves. The East Clare had been taken by the evil forces of dark, in a sanguinary battle between elves and orcs with intercetion of the Balrogs, in which very few sons of Ilúvatar had sourvived, and many had been killed or imprisoned, not daring to think what a dreadful fate was waiting for them.
This was the situation Middle Earth was going through after the fallen of Sauron in hands of two hobbits, and his army defeat in hands of Aragorn, king of Gondor. No being knew how had evil risen once again, nor who was its lider now, and very little could be taken from orcs, 'cause first they would kill, then they would laugh, and afterwards would they talk.
Yet, forces of good remained still, and controlled crusial points of Middle Earth, and in between these lights in darkness was Rhûn, in which there used to be a very strange and powerful wing of warriors called the Dragon Knights, an unusual conmbination of good dragons and brave riders which fighted against evil. They were specially targeted to bring down the powerfull balrogs and the backward foces, but the trouble was that after so many battles very few of them were left, and the wing was left totally out of combat before being exilated to the Island of Rhûn, where it was growing once again.
Now, Reth and Draco belonged to this wing, and were in between the best of them, inspite the fact that Reth was only twenty years from birth. In fact, she was a very unusual character herself, for she was not human nor elf, and was far from being a dwarf. Reth belonged to a very strange race that was called very late afterwards by our Greeks, Daemons, in her case, a dragon half daemon, 'cause her other part was completely human.
Her powers were not to be revealed to men or elves till later in this tale, but there were some characteristics in her that revealed a strange nature, like her amber eyes with long vertical pupils, her inch-long sharp fangs, and her unnatural strength.
Rider and dragon were now arriving to Rivendell, and were overflying the Misty Mountains when they sensed something.
"Draco, can you feel that?" Reth asked, worried. Draco nodded.
"It's magic, only a very strange one I had never sensed before, as thought an object was interceeding for its perform...very interesting...," he added after a while. "It's not dark magic, but it's not good either, it's just...magic...," and he sniffed the air, as well did Reth. Then she spoke.
"Draco, leave me here and go to Rivendell to comunicate these, I'll go and take a look,"
"No you're not. We're both going to...," but it was too late, Reth had jumped from the dragons back into a nearby tree, taking advantage they were flying low. "Humph...youth...," Draco sighted, and headed towards Rivendell at full speed.
Reth stared at the rich landscape, what ment they were already in the valley, jumped from brunch to brunch down the Tilus, and run in complete silence, following the strong feeling of magic. She continued moving like this, when her nose detected something. Men scent.
That was strange, 'cause Men did not usually used charms and magic between themselves, and these were two of them, screaming and coursing each other.
She stopped runing and hid behind some bushes, her sense of hearing alert, so thet she could hear their voices perfectly. They were young, about her age or more, she thought, and kept on listening, for names or something. Then, she heared the more threatening voice roar a course at the other.
"You are dead, Potter!" she hared, not knowing that voice belonged to a pale, blond boy.
God! horrible horrible horrible!!! i know, spelling and grammar completely horrible! if someone could just...offer himself to correct the messes i write, i'd be eternaly grateful!!
well, despite those things, i hope you've enjoy the chapter!! PLEASE R/R!!!