-1DISCLAIMER: Neither of these characters are mine, and neither are the terms Middle Earth, Lorien or the Undying Lands. Urmmm….. Enjoy!
He hit the ground with an audible thump, but he rolled forward into a crouch. His staff, which lay a few feet away leaped instantly into his outstretched hand. He instinctively ducked to his side, just as a huge fist smashed through the rock where he had been just moments before. He got to his feet and ran for cover, unclasping his cloak so as not to get caught on anything. Just as he did a hefty arm bore him into the air, slamming him into a wall which cracked under the force. He gasped, winded , but he managed to remain on his feet. He looked up again, face to face with the slavering cave troll, it's foul breath stirring his long silvered locks of hair. With a grunt of effort, the cave troll lifted a huge rock, a rock which four grown men would have struggled to lift today, above it's head; intending to smite the grey stranger.
As he watched, the creature go about it's fell purpose, the figure felt a fire ignite in his heart, a flash behind the watery blue of his eyes. He stood suddenly erect, tall and proud he seemed… and he cried in a loud voice, more clear than any there that had ever been achieved before:
"I am Olorin, a wizard of Middle Earth, a Maia spirit of the gardens of Lorien of the Undying Lands. And I shall not be defeated by some abominable creation of malice."
And with that, he raised his staff, and a great fire blazed at its tip. He charged forward, and as he did the troll hurled the great rock. But such was the strengths of the wizards enchantments, it was blasted asunder with a mighty crack. And so he charged forth, unhindered and with a swing he struck the troll straight in the chest. With an almighty crack the troll flew back as if struck with a club. And as the troll continued to fly through the air so too did Olorin continue his charge, drawing his sword in a swift movement. With one bound he leaped above the troll as it hit the ground with a earth shaking thud. Down he came, as a tree falls in the woods, the blade of his weapon aimed straight at the troll's heart.
But the blade was dull, and wrought with haste and not care for some battle or another, and was not strong enough to pierce the skin of the troll, and it glanced off. The troll quickly recovered, and with an ear-splitting roar it grabbed the man before he had chance to escape. Olorin winced with pain in the trolls grip, as it picked itself up off the ground. The wrath of the troll was great, and with little effort, it lifted the man above it's head, ready to dash Olorin against the cold, un yielding stone.
And, just as Olorin himself had given up all hope… he was released. Falling the floor, he quickly came to his feet, looking back at this would-be killer. The troll was still stood with it's arms raised, but he could see the wooded shaft of an arrow protruding from the trolls throat, fitted with white flights. And, with one last gasping groan, the troll fell to the floor, dead.
Olorin stood there panting, staring at the body of the troll. He started when he heard a voice behind him.
"You are lucky, my friend, that I was passing. Many have I buried who have had encounters with this very troll." Olorin wheeled round to see a tall, graceful figure, dressed in a green tunic, a quiver of white flighted arrows strapped to his back, and a long, beautifully made bow in it's hand. Atop it's head of well kept brown hair, sat a crown seemingly of intertwined plants which held a dark green stone in the centre of his forehead. Olorin bowed deeply, for he stood in the presence of an elf, one of the fairest beings who walked Middle Earth.
"I owe you my life, Master Elf," he said, resting a hand on his heart. "Pray, tell me your name so that one day I may return the favour…" The elf bowed slowly, a hint of a smile playing across his lips.
"My name is Elrond."