DISCLAIMER: I DON'T OWN LORD OF THE RINGS
Okay, I know the beginning is a BIT mary-sueish. But I promise, that's the only part!! Once you get past the flashback, Mary Sue dies. Please be merciful *big watery eyes
Review?? THANK YOU!! ^^
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The guard walked quietly back and forth in front of his post. The faint sound of horses' hooves, and rickety wagon wheels reached his ears. A shabby little caravan pulled into view. "Who goes there!? Friend or Foe!?" Demanded the guard.
"If I was a foe, do you REALLY think I'd admit it?" Demanded the cart's driver. "I am here to see your master, Lord Dagrius." Added the driver.
"What business have you with him?" Questioned the guard.
"My own." Replied the feeble old driver. Sighing, the guard pushed open the doors.
"You may pass." He stated grudgingly.
The old man rode through without a second glance. The guard closed the gate behind him.
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"Ah! Gannon, my old friend, what have you brought me this time?" Asked Lord Dagrius, stepping out of his palace doors to meet the old driver.
"My best shipment yet." Declared Gannon proudly. Lord Dagrius frowned.
"How have you outdone yourself THIS time?" He asked.
Gannon puffed his chest forward slightly, in a bragging manner. "Elves!" He squealed. Dagrius's jaw dropped.
"Elves!?" He whispered in awe. Gannon nodded, grinning smuggly.
"A whole batch a beautiful she-elves, fresh from Rivendell!" His exclaimed happily.
"Well let me see them!" Dagrius ordered.
"Yessir, yessir, yessir!" Gannon chanted, jumping down from his post in the driver's seat.
Two large, well-muscled men got down from the bench too. Dagrius eyed them as worms.
"I see that you still need these buffoons to actually HANDLE your catches." He sneered. Gannon sighed.
"They get rowdier every day sir, and I get on in my years."
"Don't I believe it." Dagrius grumbled, rolling his eyes.
Lord Dagrius stood by as the two large men proceeded to force every captive out of the back of the cart, which was actually a large cage. He had short, curly hair, with a neatly trimmed black mustache and goatee. His white shirt was loose and billowy, and his black pants and shiny black boots contrasted with it. He was a wealthy man with great power in government. Many men both feared and respected Lord Dagrius. He just had the aura about him that said 'bow to me'. Maybe it was the cocky smirk that constantly crossed his features. Or maybe it was the way he looked down at you, even if you were taller then he. It might even have been the way he stood. Whatever it was, Lord Dagrius was not someone to be trifled with.
"Come on, get outta there!" Growled the two large men, roughly ripping the she-elves from the cage. Finally they were all out, and lined up in a neat row on the ground, on their knees, heads bowed.
Dagrius walked down the row, eyeing each one. Most were in night-slips. "Did you capture them during the night?" He questioned. Gannon nodded eagerly.
"Yes, milord. There was no other way. They were hard enough to get, without doing it in broad daylight." He explained.
"Hard? How?" Dagrius quipped. Gannon walked over to one particular she-elf, and grabbed her hair. He yanked it so that she looked straight up at Lord Dagrius. She snarled.
"This here is the daughter of Lord Elrohir in Rivendell. Her grandfather is Lord Elrond." Gannon informed Dagrius.
(A/N: Let's just pretend that Elrohir married and had kids. I don't know if he actually did or not.)
Dagrius took a lock of her hair in his fingers and examined it. The moon reflected off of it, tinting it from pure black to a shade of mysterious blue. She scowled at him angrily.
"Yes," He murmured. "I've heard that the kin of Elrond have darker hair than most elves." He stated.
"Actually sir, she has blond hair like all the others. But when her father found her missing, he sent a rather large search party looking for her. We got some potion from a local apothecary, and made her drink it. It turned her hair from gold to ebony, and her eyes from blue to brown. It tanned her skin, as well." Gannon explained.
"I see. Did it replace her elvish ears with normal, round ones, too?" Dagrius asked, fingering the ROUND tip of her ear. Gannon sighed.
"Unfortunately no, sir. That feat was accomplished with a knife. We cut them to that shape. You can still see the scars." He pointed to long, angry red lines on the back tip of each ear.
"It was just recently done, I see." Dagrius observed, noting that a small amount of blood had only just dried on her ears.
"Yessir." Gannon nodded. "It was rather difficult. She's a feisty one."
"Feisty, hm?" Dagrius grinned wickedly.
"Yessir." Replied Gannon.
"HOW feisty?" Dagrius continued to ask.
"My men had to wrestle her to the ground to tie her bonds." Gannon sighed.
"Your men are worthless brutes." Dagrius snapped.
"Oh but sir...!" Gannon started.
"Shut-up! Shut-up before I change my mind! Give me this one!" He pointed to the one she-elf. Gannon grinned wickedly.
"Fifty pieces of gold and no less." He ordered.
"Twenty-five." Dagrius bartered.
"Forty." Gannon frowned. Dagrius stalked over to him, and grabbed his collar menacingly.
"FIVE." He hissed. Gannon gulped with fear, and nodded.
"I knew you'd see it my way." Dagrius smirked, letting him go, placing money in his palm, and storming back to the girl. "Come." He ordered, making his way back inside. The girl didn't move. He stopped when he realized that she hadn't budged. "COME!" He said again, more sternly. She didn't even blink. He stomped back over to her, and slapped her. "NOW, wench!" He hollered. Finally, she brought herself to her feet and trudged after him, glaring.
Gannon loaded up the rest of the she-elves, and left Dagrius's castle.
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Ten years flew by. Dagrius received more and more slave girls. Ondraya, as was her name, felt bad for each of them. When they were first brought to the castle, they had no idea what they were in for. They came with an air of innocence, but many died. Suicide, brutal beatings, and torture were all very common in Dagrius's castle. Only a few of the original that Ondraya had met on her first night remained.
Her hair still had not changed back, nor her eyes or skin. She had once looked mournfully in the mirror every day, examining her mutilated ears. But she didn't dare any more. The memories hurt too much.
Yes, she remembered the night all too vividly.....
FLASHBACK
Her father's search dogs were on the cart's trail. She could hear them baying in the distance, and her hopes soared.
"Damn beasts!" Gannon cursed.
"What'll we do, boss?" One of Gannon's oafs asked stupidly.
"Drive across the river! They'll lose our scent that way!"
Sure enough, they managed to get the wagon through the current. The two ogres of men had to get out and push the wagon over several rocks, but they made it anyway.
Once on the other side, Gannon brutally ripped her out of the back "YOU are going to get us caught!" He sneered, the foul stench of his breath on her face. She scowled and kneed him THERE... "OW!!!!!" He cried, releasing his grip on her, and doubling over in pain. Instantly, the two men grabbed a hold of her upper arms. "That's it!" Gannon barked. "I've had it with you, wench! Hold her down!" He ordered the two. They obeyed, and pushed her to the ground.
One held her face, while Gannon heated a dagger over a newly built fire. Eventually, it began to glow red hot. The other she-elves, still in the cart, watched in terror, as the delicate point of Ondraya's elvish ears was mercilessly cut away.
She screamed over and over, tears rolling down her cheeks. Elven ears are very sensitive, and so the pain was immense.
Before they finished her first ear, she'd blacked out in pain.
When she awoke, she found that they'd poured a potion down her throat. She looked completely different. No one would recognize her now...
END OF FLASHBACK
She ran over the checklist in her mind. Boots- check, breeches- check, shirts-check, and even a sword- check. A whole sack was dedicated to food.
Finally ready, she headed towards the stables. There, she saddled the fastest horse, packed him up, and left the empty castle; never looking back...
She had done it. On this fateful night, she escaped after ten years of torture from Dagrius
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(MARY SUE-ISM ENDS HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
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Months passed, and still Ondraya roamed. Every moment was torture, for all that she could think about were those years in Dagrius's castle.
Ashamed. There was no better word for it. She was ashamed that an old man (Gannon) and his two ogres for assistants had caught her, changed her, and sold her. Not only that, but they'd sold her to the worst owner in the whole slave market. Beatings, starvation.
Yes, she was ashamed. She felt like one of those poor, pathetic people in stories who need a knight in shining armor to rescue them. Fairytale people whom are dependant on others for their lives. She'd failed herself.
It was in these moments, that she'd look at her stolen sword, and glare at it. Then, she'd take it, and practice.
Each day she practiced with it. She practiced on foot, on horseback, hell; she'd even taken it in the river once. She found it hard to maneuver the blade, and keep you footing in the current, all at the same time. But eventually, she figured out how.
She was all right with her bow and arrows. She practiced them every day, too. And if an arrow snapped, she gathered materials, and made another. It was a long and meticulous process, but it took her mind off of things.
Then, one day, she came across a tavern. There was loud music and laughing emanating from the inside. Feeling bold, she stepped through the doors.
When she stepped in, all grew quiet. Every eye was on her. She kept her expression placid; neutral. There was a mirror on the wall, and she looked at her reflection in the corner of her eye.
She was really thin. That was the first thing she noticed. And her outfit didn't help. It was made from soft brown leather. Broken in, and flexible. Her top was sleeveless, and stitched up in the front, and the collar was shaped like an arrowhead. Her 'pants' were like a short skirt with slits all the way up. There were two ties on each hip that held it together. Sort of like a loincloth, only brown leather, with shorts underneath. This left her free to move around without anyone seeing anything.
She had on finger gloves, an armband, and gauntlets, all with fringe. Her boots stopped just below her knees, and were also capped with fringed leather. They laced all the way up. Her only jewelry was the two earrings she wore, the ear cuff, and a choker with a swirling symbol on it. Her waist-length black hair was tied up with a ribbon. Her bangs, which reached her chin, were too short for the ribbon to hold. So they hung in her face.
Her expression hardened, as she noticed her ribs poking out. The top was very short, so you could easily see her belly, which (despite her lack of weight) was well toned. Her quiver was strapped to her back, along with her bow. Her sword hung in its sheath on her hip.
Her brown eyes scanned the room, as all stared at her in wonder. Since when did women travel with weapons?
She walked across the room, her boots clunking on the hard wood floors. She sat down on a stool in front of the bar.
"May I help you miss?" Asked the bartender.
It was the first voice she'd heard in months. "A mug of your strongest." She ordered, and he went to fetch it.
Chatter resumed in the room, but it was quieter than it had been before. The man passed her the cup, and she dropped two silver coins on the table. She sat there for a while, drinking, and staring at the table.
Someone slid onto the stool next to her. "You're not from around here, are you?" Questioned the person. She shook her head. "Then where DO you hail from?" The man pressed.
"Not here." Ondraya answered. Her voice cracked slightly from months without use. The man chuckled.
"Why do you travel with weapons?" He questioned.
"Why are you so nosy?" She retaliated. He laughed some more.
"Are you always this hostile?"
"Are you always so annoying?" She shot back, her eyes still focused on the table.
He held out his hand. "My name is Imeron." He introduced. She glanced at his hand dryly.
"Do you want a medal or something?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No. I just want your name." Imeron replied.
"And I want a mansion. Doesn't mean I'm gonna get it."
Imeron shook his head, chuckling. "A name hardly compares to a mansion." He laughed.
"Are you saying my name is worthless?" She scowled.
"How would I know? You haven't told me your name." He said, a lopsided grin forming in his handsome features.
She ran her eyes over him. He had on a brown leather vest, and brown pants. His boots were faded and scuffed, but they were brown too. His skin was weathered and tanned. His eyes (the only thing he had that wasn't brown) were a sharp, piercing green.
His brown hair was shaved, and a small beard ran around his chin. It was short and bristly, kept well.
"Go away." Ondraya growled.
"Only after you tell me your name." He smirked.
"I don't accept blackmail." She growled.
"I don't accept haughtiness." He smiled at his cleverness.
"Then don't look in the mirror." She snapped, putting her mug down and standing up. She started walking out the doors. Imeron scrambled after her. He grabbed his sack on his way out the door.
He got outside to see her mounting a white steed. "Leaving so soon?" He asked, grinning crazily.
"The sooner to get away from you." She answered.
He untied his horse from the standing pole, and jumped on it. "I shall follow you then." He declared.
She smirked wickedly. "Good luck." Was all she said, before she gave her steed a good kick, and went flying down the trail.
"HEY! NO FAIR! YOU GOT A HEAD START!" Imeron called after her, urging his stallion forward.
The trees flew by them and they ran on and on. Miles stretched behind them.
Finally, they reached the river. Ondraya's horse stopped short. "Whoa! Boy, whoa!" She hollered. He reared up in fright, causing her to clutch his mane to stay on. She gave him a slight kick. "GO!" She ordered. He whinnied and snorted, eyes wide. "GO!!" She repeated. He growled and stamped his hooves.
Imeron came racing around the corner. "Ah! There you are! Waiting for me?" He smiled cheekily. She scowled at him. "First one across the river, wins!" He declared happily. Her eyes flared.
"Hey! I never..." Too late. Imeron was half way through by now. He stopped and turned around.
"What? Did you quit or something?" He demanded. She glared.
"No."
"Fine, but if I beat you, you have to tell me your name!" He laughed, leaning forward on the horse. The stallion trotted delicately across the last few steps, and reached the bank. "I win!" He smiled.
"No you don't! I never agreed to that!" She argued, still trying to kick her horse across the river. He frowned.
"What's the matter?" He yelled.
"The damn beast is scared of the current." She called back, agitated. He dismounted his stallion, tied it to a tree, and started walking across the shallow river. When he got to her side again, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a long line of cloth. He tied it around her horse's eyes, like a blindfold.
"You're not very good with horses, are you?" He taunted.
"Just shut-up and get him across the water." She snapped. Sighing, Imeron took the reins, and began to pull the horse to the other side. At first the horse resisted, but when it realized that the blindfold wasn't coming off, it had no choice but to let Imeron lead it.
"That's it, nice and easy." Imeron soothed. Finally, they reached the opposite bank. Imeron glanced down at his pants mournfully. "Great. Just great." He muttered.
"Ondraya." She said suddenly.
"Huh?" Imeron looked up, confused.
"My name is Ondraya." She repeated. He grinned.
"Nice to meet you, Ondraya." He smiled, extending a hand. Ondraya glanced at it speculatively before putting hers forth as well, and shaking it. "So what were you up to, roaming the country?" Imeron asked.
"None of your damn business." She snapped. He sighed.
"Ah, back to that again, are we? Am I going to have to beat you at another contest to get THAT info out of you, too?" He commented. She glared.
"I was simply roaming." She said finally.
He smirked. "Well ~I~ was on my way to Lothlorien." He boasted. She frowned.
"What is Loth-loth...whatever?" She asked, eyebrows creasing. His eyes went wide, and he did a small sort of gasp.
"Why, 'tis the Realm of the Lady of the Wood!" He exclaimed. Then the shock faded from his face. "Since you do not but roam, you are welcome to join me there." He replied, winking at her somewhat. She frowned at what his little wink implied, but then shrugged.
"Alright. As you pointed out, I have not else to do." She stated. His face burst into a large grin.
"That's the spirit!" He declared happily.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, sorry that this was so long and boring. I know that it was VERY Mary Sue-ish in the beginning, and so I apologize. This means that if anyone reviews and tells me that it sucked because it was a Mary Sue, I'm going to tell them to fuck off because I DID warn u in the beginning.
For the rest of u who actually understand that ~I~ KNOW that this was Mary Sue-ish, please leave a lovely little review ^^
Thanx---- and I promise that this will be much more "LOTR" focused in ch.2 ^^ none of the main characters played a big role in this, did they? O well, whatever ^^ ch.2, I swear ^^
~* ElfPilot *~
Okay, I know the beginning is a BIT mary-sueish. But I promise, that's the only part!! Once you get past the flashback, Mary Sue dies. Please be merciful *big watery eyes
Review?? THANK YOU!! ^^
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The guard walked quietly back and forth in front of his post. The faint sound of horses' hooves, and rickety wagon wheels reached his ears. A shabby little caravan pulled into view. "Who goes there!? Friend or Foe!?" Demanded the guard.
"If I was a foe, do you REALLY think I'd admit it?" Demanded the cart's driver. "I am here to see your master, Lord Dagrius." Added the driver.
"What business have you with him?" Questioned the guard.
"My own." Replied the feeble old driver. Sighing, the guard pushed open the doors.
"You may pass." He stated grudgingly.
The old man rode through without a second glance. The guard closed the gate behind him.
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"Ah! Gannon, my old friend, what have you brought me this time?" Asked Lord Dagrius, stepping out of his palace doors to meet the old driver.
"My best shipment yet." Declared Gannon proudly. Lord Dagrius frowned.
"How have you outdone yourself THIS time?" He asked.
Gannon puffed his chest forward slightly, in a bragging manner. "Elves!" He squealed. Dagrius's jaw dropped.
"Elves!?" He whispered in awe. Gannon nodded, grinning smuggly.
"A whole batch a beautiful she-elves, fresh from Rivendell!" His exclaimed happily.
"Well let me see them!" Dagrius ordered.
"Yessir, yessir, yessir!" Gannon chanted, jumping down from his post in the driver's seat.
Two large, well-muscled men got down from the bench too. Dagrius eyed them as worms.
"I see that you still need these buffoons to actually HANDLE your catches." He sneered. Gannon sighed.
"They get rowdier every day sir, and I get on in my years."
"Don't I believe it." Dagrius grumbled, rolling his eyes.
Lord Dagrius stood by as the two large men proceeded to force every captive out of the back of the cart, which was actually a large cage. He had short, curly hair, with a neatly trimmed black mustache and goatee. His white shirt was loose and billowy, and his black pants and shiny black boots contrasted with it. He was a wealthy man with great power in government. Many men both feared and respected Lord Dagrius. He just had the aura about him that said 'bow to me'. Maybe it was the cocky smirk that constantly crossed his features. Or maybe it was the way he looked down at you, even if you were taller then he. It might even have been the way he stood. Whatever it was, Lord Dagrius was not someone to be trifled with.
"Come on, get outta there!" Growled the two large men, roughly ripping the she-elves from the cage. Finally they were all out, and lined up in a neat row on the ground, on their knees, heads bowed.
Dagrius walked down the row, eyeing each one. Most were in night-slips. "Did you capture them during the night?" He questioned. Gannon nodded eagerly.
"Yes, milord. There was no other way. They were hard enough to get, without doing it in broad daylight." He explained.
"Hard? How?" Dagrius quipped. Gannon walked over to one particular she-elf, and grabbed her hair. He yanked it so that she looked straight up at Lord Dagrius. She snarled.
"This here is the daughter of Lord Elrohir in Rivendell. Her grandfather is Lord Elrond." Gannon informed Dagrius.
(A/N: Let's just pretend that Elrohir married and had kids. I don't know if he actually did or not.)
Dagrius took a lock of her hair in his fingers and examined it. The moon reflected off of it, tinting it from pure black to a shade of mysterious blue. She scowled at him angrily.
"Yes," He murmured. "I've heard that the kin of Elrond have darker hair than most elves." He stated.
"Actually sir, she has blond hair like all the others. But when her father found her missing, he sent a rather large search party looking for her. We got some potion from a local apothecary, and made her drink it. It turned her hair from gold to ebony, and her eyes from blue to brown. It tanned her skin, as well." Gannon explained.
"I see. Did it replace her elvish ears with normal, round ones, too?" Dagrius asked, fingering the ROUND tip of her ear. Gannon sighed.
"Unfortunately no, sir. That feat was accomplished with a knife. We cut them to that shape. You can still see the scars." He pointed to long, angry red lines on the back tip of each ear.
"It was just recently done, I see." Dagrius observed, noting that a small amount of blood had only just dried on her ears.
"Yessir." Gannon nodded. "It was rather difficult. She's a feisty one."
"Feisty, hm?" Dagrius grinned wickedly.
"Yessir." Replied Gannon.
"HOW feisty?" Dagrius continued to ask.
"My men had to wrestle her to the ground to tie her bonds." Gannon sighed.
"Your men are worthless brutes." Dagrius snapped.
"Oh but sir...!" Gannon started.
"Shut-up! Shut-up before I change my mind! Give me this one!" He pointed to the one she-elf. Gannon grinned wickedly.
"Fifty pieces of gold and no less." He ordered.
"Twenty-five." Dagrius bartered.
"Forty." Gannon frowned. Dagrius stalked over to him, and grabbed his collar menacingly.
"FIVE." He hissed. Gannon gulped with fear, and nodded.
"I knew you'd see it my way." Dagrius smirked, letting him go, placing money in his palm, and storming back to the girl. "Come." He ordered, making his way back inside. The girl didn't move. He stopped when he realized that she hadn't budged. "COME!" He said again, more sternly. She didn't even blink. He stomped back over to her, and slapped her. "NOW, wench!" He hollered. Finally, she brought herself to her feet and trudged after him, glaring.
Gannon loaded up the rest of the she-elves, and left Dagrius's castle.
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Ten years flew by. Dagrius received more and more slave girls. Ondraya, as was her name, felt bad for each of them. When they were first brought to the castle, they had no idea what they were in for. They came with an air of innocence, but many died. Suicide, brutal beatings, and torture were all very common in Dagrius's castle. Only a few of the original that Ondraya had met on her first night remained.
Her hair still had not changed back, nor her eyes or skin. She had once looked mournfully in the mirror every day, examining her mutilated ears. But she didn't dare any more. The memories hurt too much.
Yes, she remembered the night all too vividly.....
FLASHBACK
Her father's search dogs were on the cart's trail. She could hear them baying in the distance, and her hopes soared.
"Damn beasts!" Gannon cursed.
"What'll we do, boss?" One of Gannon's oafs asked stupidly.
"Drive across the river! They'll lose our scent that way!"
Sure enough, they managed to get the wagon through the current. The two ogres of men had to get out and push the wagon over several rocks, but they made it anyway.
Once on the other side, Gannon brutally ripped her out of the back "YOU are going to get us caught!" He sneered, the foul stench of his breath on her face. She scowled and kneed him THERE... "OW!!!!!" He cried, releasing his grip on her, and doubling over in pain. Instantly, the two men grabbed a hold of her upper arms. "That's it!" Gannon barked. "I've had it with you, wench! Hold her down!" He ordered the two. They obeyed, and pushed her to the ground.
One held her face, while Gannon heated a dagger over a newly built fire. Eventually, it began to glow red hot. The other she-elves, still in the cart, watched in terror, as the delicate point of Ondraya's elvish ears was mercilessly cut away.
She screamed over and over, tears rolling down her cheeks. Elven ears are very sensitive, and so the pain was immense.
Before they finished her first ear, she'd blacked out in pain.
When she awoke, she found that they'd poured a potion down her throat. She looked completely different. No one would recognize her now...
END OF FLASHBACK
She ran over the checklist in her mind. Boots- check, breeches- check, shirts-check, and even a sword- check. A whole sack was dedicated to food.
Finally ready, she headed towards the stables. There, she saddled the fastest horse, packed him up, and left the empty castle; never looking back...
She had done it. On this fateful night, she escaped after ten years of torture from Dagrius
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(MARY SUE-ISM ENDS HERE!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!)
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Months passed, and still Ondraya roamed. Every moment was torture, for all that she could think about were those years in Dagrius's castle.
Ashamed. There was no better word for it. She was ashamed that an old man (Gannon) and his two ogres for assistants had caught her, changed her, and sold her. Not only that, but they'd sold her to the worst owner in the whole slave market. Beatings, starvation.
Yes, she was ashamed. She felt like one of those poor, pathetic people in stories who need a knight in shining armor to rescue them. Fairytale people whom are dependant on others for their lives. She'd failed herself.
It was in these moments, that she'd look at her stolen sword, and glare at it. Then, she'd take it, and practice.
Each day she practiced with it. She practiced on foot, on horseback, hell; she'd even taken it in the river once. She found it hard to maneuver the blade, and keep you footing in the current, all at the same time. But eventually, she figured out how.
She was all right with her bow and arrows. She practiced them every day, too. And if an arrow snapped, she gathered materials, and made another. It was a long and meticulous process, but it took her mind off of things.
Then, one day, she came across a tavern. There was loud music and laughing emanating from the inside. Feeling bold, she stepped through the doors.
When she stepped in, all grew quiet. Every eye was on her. She kept her expression placid; neutral. There was a mirror on the wall, and she looked at her reflection in the corner of her eye.
She was really thin. That was the first thing she noticed. And her outfit didn't help. It was made from soft brown leather. Broken in, and flexible. Her top was sleeveless, and stitched up in the front, and the collar was shaped like an arrowhead. Her 'pants' were like a short skirt with slits all the way up. There were two ties on each hip that held it together. Sort of like a loincloth, only brown leather, with shorts underneath. This left her free to move around without anyone seeing anything.
She had on finger gloves, an armband, and gauntlets, all with fringe. Her boots stopped just below her knees, and were also capped with fringed leather. They laced all the way up. Her only jewelry was the two earrings she wore, the ear cuff, and a choker with a swirling symbol on it. Her waist-length black hair was tied up with a ribbon. Her bangs, which reached her chin, were too short for the ribbon to hold. So they hung in her face.
Her expression hardened, as she noticed her ribs poking out. The top was very short, so you could easily see her belly, which (despite her lack of weight) was well toned. Her quiver was strapped to her back, along with her bow. Her sword hung in its sheath on her hip.
Her brown eyes scanned the room, as all stared at her in wonder. Since when did women travel with weapons?
She walked across the room, her boots clunking on the hard wood floors. She sat down on a stool in front of the bar.
"May I help you miss?" Asked the bartender.
It was the first voice she'd heard in months. "A mug of your strongest." She ordered, and he went to fetch it.
Chatter resumed in the room, but it was quieter than it had been before. The man passed her the cup, and she dropped two silver coins on the table. She sat there for a while, drinking, and staring at the table.
Someone slid onto the stool next to her. "You're not from around here, are you?" Questioned the person. She shook her head. "Then where DO you hail from?" The man pressed.
"Not here." Ondraya answered. Her voice cracked slightly from months without use. The man chuckled.
"Why do you travel with weapons?" He questioned.
"Why are you so nosy?" She retaliated. He laughed some more.
"Are you always this hostile?"
"Are you always so annoying?" She shot back, her eyes still focused on the table.
He held out his hand. "My name is Imeron." He introduced. She glanced at his hand dryly.
"Do you want a medal or something?" She asked, raising an eyebrow.
"No. I just want your name." Imeron replied.
"And I want a mansion. Doesn't mean I'm gonna get it."
Imeron shook his head, chuckling. "A name hardly compares to a mansion." He laughed.
"Are you saying my name is worthless?" She scowled.
"How would I know? You haven't told me your name." He said, a lopsided grin forming in his handsome features.
She ran her eyes over him. He had on a brown leather vest, and brown pants. His boots were faded and scuffed, but they were brown too. His skin was weathered and tanned. His eyes (the only thing he had that wasn't brown) were a sharp, piercing green.
His brown hair was shaved, and a small beard ran around his chin. It was short and bristly, kept well.
"Go away." Ondraya growled.
"Only after you tell me your name." He smirked.
"I don't accept blackmail." She growled.
"I don't accept haughtiness." He smiled at his cleverness.
"Then don't look in the mirror." She snapped, putting her mug down and standing up. She started walking out the doors. Imeron scrambled after her. He grabbed his sack on his way out the door.
He got outside to see her mounting a white steed. "Leaving so soon?" He asked, grinning crazily.
"The sooner to get away from you." She answered.
He untied his horse from the standing pole, and jumped on it. "I shall follow you then." He declared.
She smirked wickedly. "Good luck." Was all she said, before she gave her steed a good kick, and went flying down the trail.
"HEY! NO FAIR! YOU GOT A HEAD START!" Imeron called after her, urging his stallion forward.
The trees flew by them and they ran on and on. Miles stretched behind them.
Finally, they reached the river. Ondraya's horse stopped short. "Whoa! Boy, whoa!" She hollered. He reared up in fright, causing her to clutch his mane to stay on. She gave him a slight kick. "GO!" She ordered. He whinnied and snorted, eyes wide. "GO!!" She repeated. He growled and stamped his hooves.
Imeron came racing around the corner. "Ah! There you are! Waiting for me?" He smiled cheekily. She scowled at him. "First one across the river, wins!" He declared happily. Her eyes flared.
"Hey! I never..." Too late. Imeron was half way through by now. He stopped and turned around.
"What? Did you quit or something?" He demanded. She glared.
"No."
"Fine, but if I beat you, you have to tell me your name!" He laughed, leaning forward on the horse. The stallion trotted delicately across the last few steps, and reached the bank. "I win!" He smiled.
"No you don't! I never agreed to that!" She argued, still trying to kick her horse across the river. He frowned.
"What's the matter?" He yelled.
"The damn beast is scared of the current." She called back, agitated. He dismounted his stallion, tied it to a tree, and started walking across the shallow river. When he got to her side again, he reached into his pocket, and pulled out a long line of cloth. He tied it around her horse's eyes, like a blindfold.
"You're not very good with horses, are you?" He taunted.
"Just shut-up and get him across the water." She snapped. Sighing, Imeron took the reins, and began to pull the horse to the other side. At first the horse resisted, but when it realized that the blindfold wasn't coming off, it had no choice but to let Imeron lead it.
"That's it, nice and easy." Imeron soothed. Finally, they reached the opposite bank. Imeron glanced down at his pants mournfully. "Great. Just great." He muttered.
"Ondraya." She said suddenly.
"Huh?" Imeron looked up, confused.
"My name is Ondraya." She repeated. He grinned.
"Nice to meet you, Ondraya." He smiled, extending a hand. Ondraya glanced at it speculatively before putting hers forth as well, and shaking it. "So what were you up to, roaming the country?" Imeron asked.
"None of your damn business." She snapped. He sighed.
"Ah, back to that again, are we? Am I going to have to beat you at another contest to get THAT info out of you, too?" He commented. She glared.
"I was simply roaming." She said finally.
He smirked. "Well ~I~ was on my way to Lothlorien." He boasted. She frowned.
"What is Loth-loth...whatever?" She asked, eyebrows creasing. His eyes went wide, and he did a small sort of gasp.
"Why, 'tis the Realm of the Lady of the Wood!" He exclaimed. Then the shock faded from his face. "Since you do not but roam, you are welcome to join me there." He replied, winking at her somewhat. She frowned at what his little wink implied, but then shrugged.
"Alright. As you pointed out, I have not else to do." She stated. His face burst into a large grin.
"That's the spirit!" He declared happily.
~*~*~*~*~*~
Okay, sorry that this was so long and boring. I know that it was VERY Mary Sue-ish in the beginning, and so I apologize. This means that if anyone reviews and tells me that it sucked because it was a Mary Sue, I'm going to tell them to fuck off because I DID warn u in the beginning.
For the rest of u who actually understand that ~I~ KNOW that this was Mary Sue-ish, please leave a lovely little review ^^
Thanx---- and I promise that this will be much more "LOTR" focused in ch.2 ^^ none of the main characters played a big role in this, did they? O well, whatever ^^ ch.2, I swear ^^
~* ElfPilot *~