Chapter Two
Disruption
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%&* 17 Years Later %&*
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Fate is always a fickle thing. It is forever twisting and turning, with new doors constantly opening and closing, but with time forever rolling on. With the passing of time, comes life and death. No matter what one does to evade it, mortality is inevitable, even for the immortals. Everything has a flaw, or one final weakness that can be met. And for her, it was her past. Or more, lack there of. And it was this flaw that would rise up to meet her, perhaps even kill her. But while fake can be fickle, it is not set in stone, especially not for her.
A raven-haired female walked slowly across the landscape, her petite form practically melting into the shadows as she ventured on. She had no particular place to be, so why hurry? And seeing as how it was such a beautiful evening, she decided to walk calmly, enjoying the newfound presence of summer's early warmth.
Her steps were composed and silent, with her boots leaving an invisible print in the dusty road. The trees swayed in the night's breeze and the countless flickering stars illuminated the moonless sky. There was a fresh smell to the air and crickets could be heard quietly chirping all around, each somehow managing to sing in harmony with one another. A soft smile crept across her lips as she crossed a small bridge, her black cloak skimming across the ground behind her.
She had been walking for quiet a while now; always aimlessly letting her feet take her where they desired. A few days ago, she passed through the town of Bree. Since then, she'd swerved her way east, stopping every now and then to enjoy the warming nights and blooming landscapes.
Her dark eyes flickered upwards, now looking far across the countryside in front of her. There was a faint glow shining from off in the distance. It was dim, yes, but her exceptionally sharp eyes caught it. Just what was happening over there to have such an uncommon radiance sprout from the night like water from a spring?
Deciding to see just what was going on, (and since she had nothing else to do) the shrouded female kept on her set path down the road. Her pace quickened until she was nothing more than a blur jumping between the shadows. She was curious, that was all. And besides, she highly doubted that investigating would cause some cataclysmic change to her boring life.
In a matter of minutes, she had appeared at her destination, hiding under the shadow of a large oak tree. Her eyes darted from person to person, trying to understand the situation in front of her.
For one, there were hobbits everywhere and almost all of them seemed to be in a panic. She must have walked all the way to the Shire, which was something she hadn't done in almost two decades. Her brother had told her of them some years ago, and after being told of the curious little half-lings, she was quick to set out and find them.
Just like back then, she observed them silently, the whites of her eyes being the only visible part of her cloaked body. Large decorations, tables, banners, tents, bonfires, and other festive assortments were sprawled out across the green landscape around her. Most of the hobbit folk appeared shaken, some even crying. Looking to her left, she saw a particularly large yellow banner, with the words, 'Happy 111th Birthday Bilbo' written across in a bold red. For something so joyous as a birthday party, what had caused such a disturbance to the happy celebration?
She was knocked from her thoughts when someone unexpectedly ran into her. She stumbled a ways, but caught herself on the tree nearby. The raven-haired female snapped her head up, silently berating herself for not being on guard. What would her family say if they saw her so behaving so disgruntled? She silently laughed to herself at that.
Well, her father would tell her that she was merely being female (seeing as how all women tune out the things they don't wish to hear). However, her brothers on the other hand, would have screamed at her to be more careful while also putting her through yet another one of their torturous training exercises.
She shook her head softly; now wasn't the time to be reminiscing! Carefully, she glanced out from behind the large oak and saw her offender. But then again, seeing as just who it was, she could hardly call him that.
A young half-ling was scrambling up from the ground. His bright blue eyes shone in panic as he hastily picked himself up off the soft grass. As he stood, his eyes scanned the area around him, obviously looking for whomever it was that he had run into. For half a second, their eyes met, and then she vanished, completely fading into the trees shadow.
Before his eyes even had a chance to widen in alarm, she had gone, making him think it was nothing more than a trick of light. Or perhaps he'd had too much to drink. Yes, that must have been it! But as he stood and continued to run for his uncle's house, he silently mused on the idea as to how there had been no light under the thick shade of the tree and one mug of beer just wasn't enough to do him over.
She watched him stumble for a moment, before resuming in his run up a nearby path and through a white gate. It had surprised her that he had seen her, for most of the time she could be standing right beside someone and they would have no idea that she was hovering so close. The old healer said it was as if she had no aura. But the old codger was slowing slipping in life and sanity. No one took anything she said seriously anymore.
Yet, that half-ling had found her without so much as batting an eyelash. Just what was different about him that he had managed to find her so easily? After a quiet moment, she decided to follow him to figure it out. And so she slithered off after the young hobbit. While, yes, she was still very curious about the entire situation, this little half-ling had captured her upmost attention. So she stalked after him, no one else noticing her dance her way through the shadows.
In a matter of minutes she arrived at a small house, or more, hobbit hole. The first time she had seen the little homes, she was amazed. To live in a home completely buried under the side of a hill. What a life that must have been! It was unfortunate, however, that she couldn't see the small hobbit, only knowing he had gone inside, seeing as how the round red door was now hanging wide open. She suddenly caught a voice, or more, whisper floating from inside.
"Precious…"
She didn't notice herself twitch at the word. But she did observe herself slowly slink her way towards the open door. A faint stream of light was leaking outside. Opting to take a chance, she let herself steal a glimpse into the house while being partially bathed in the lights yellow glow.
The home was very quaint and well kept, halls branching off to the numerous rooms of the underground home. Directly in front of her, not even a few strides away, she saw an old man. He was sitting in a chair close to the fire. She could tell he was smoking, seeing wisps of grey floating above his scraggily grey hair. The half-ling stood behind him and spoke something her sensitive ears refused to detect. All she could hear was the ever-growing pulse that echoed through her inner most thoughts as it silently began to take over her will.
Her face was now eerily blank and seemed as cold as ice. She merely stared at the duo that stood in front of the warm fire. She simply remained frozen just outside the door, content in simply observing them. The half of her face that was drowned in light continued to watch them, always unmoving. To an onlooker, one would have thought it was the face of Death as she lurked outside her next victim's door.
The old man turned around and spoke directly to the hobbit. His words were muffled to her as she observed them impassively and the pulse still blocked everything out. The man smiled at the young half-ling. He spoke a moment longer before holding a small envelope out to the consoled half-ling. She watched with calculating eyes as the Ring in his hand became visible for an instant. It fell silently through the air before it disappeared into the paper casing.
Her eyes widened dramatically, nostrils flaring as she drew a sharp breath. She watched the hobbit freeze slightly, not moving as the old man motioned to seal the envelope. While the man was preoccupied, the half-ling dared to turn his head around. It didn't take long before his azure eyes met her own. They stared at one another for a moment before she bolted once again, leaving him wondering if his sanity was slipping.
"Is something wrong Frodo?" The old man said, turning back around while slipping the envelope back into his hand. The hobbit's gaze lingered at the doorway for a moment before gazing at his friend.
"No," his eyes flickered back to the doorway. He flashed a small smile before continuing. "Nothing."
Moments later, the old man left on his horse and sped off into the night with a newfound vigor. Frodo saw him out, and was now staring down the path of his friend's departure. He stood on the dirt road for a moment before noticing just how quiet things had gotten.
The wind had gone silent, along with all the cheery sounds of the midnight crickets. Nothing moved. Every branch was still and even the clouds seemed to pause in their effortless venture across the ink black sky.
Frodo gulped, his hand still clutching the envelope tightly. He spoke bravely at first, looking around cautiously. "I know you're there," His voice dropped to a quiet murmur, "somewhere."
His eyes darted all around, looking for any sign of movement, but after a tense moment, Frodo sighed and walked back into the house. His hand lingered on the doorframe for an instant, taking one last look out across the night. With a fleeting glance, he walked back into his house, closing the red door behind him with a 'click'.
When the door closed, a pair of white-black eyes reopened, hovering beside the shadow of the hill. The eyes bobbed over to one of the nearby windows and carefully peered inside. She unconsciously set her hand on the window box as she did so.
She watched the Hobbit meander his way around, dousing the lights and locking the front door. Soon the whole house was blanketed in the night's darkness and she left, finding no more reason to stay. She left no sign of her presence, save for the wilted flowers in the window box.
Standard Disclaimer: I don't own InuYasha or Lord of the Rings.
"To an onlooker, one would have thought it was the face of Death as she lurked outside her next victim's door."
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Sorry it's so short, but it's been almost a month and I wanted to put something up for you to mull over. But while it may be short, there's some major foreshadowing and symbolism. And again, forgive me for those of you who I told things that would happen in this chapter, but did not. I'm a very sporadic kind of person, and things are always changing. Sorry. Anyway, despite my randomness and the overall lack of length of this chapter, please review! The next chapter will, be much, much longer. I promise you that.