The Veil

Summary: Bellatrix Lestrange makes a realization during the final battle of Hogwarts: Voldemort doesn't love her and never will. All her endeavors were futile. She has a panic attack and falls through the same Veil that took her cousin, naught two years ago, at her hands no less. But what is behind the Veil? The Land of the Dead as many Wizards and Unspeakables suspect? Once you go in you never come out. Or a whole other world? …Middle Earth perhaps?
Categories:romance, horror, adventure, comfort, humor
Characters: OOC Bellatrix,Legolas, Aragorn, Male/Male/Female, Threesome
Genres: crossover
Warnings:dark themes, murder, torture, sexually graphic scenes, rated M for a reason
Author's note: I love the character of Bellatrix, and there doesn't seem to be enough crossover fics including her. So, I thought I'd do her some justice. Hopefully I'll succeed.

I do not intend to plagiarize either works by Rowling or Tolkien; I am merely using my imagination and applying it to their fantastic worlds. I've just tweaked some things to make the story relevant.

Chapters:4 of many

oOo

It only had to be a few hours before Bellatrix started to suspect that the forest didn't have any sort of exit.

This 'Fangorn Forest' as they told her; the white wizard, the dwarf, the Veela 'Elf', and the filthy, sweaty man.

But she would believe them for now, at least until it didn't benefit her anymore. She was a Death Eater after all. If not by oath, then by state of mind.

But that was not entirely true.

She did not protect and fight for her master in the end. At the last second she had changed her mind and betrayed—

"Hurry Bellatrix!" She suddenly noticed she was falling behind, "We have not time to dawdle."

She made a grunt in the back of her throat; cursing Gandalf for all that he was worth. At this rate, she would never have time to think to herself. She was at the back of the company, followed only by the tall, gangly, blonde thing. He was watching her wearily, but walking light-footed over the forest floor. She looked back at him every now and again, but was not unnerved by him as she was by the dark-haired man trailing closely after Gandalf.

He was walking ahead of her, making noises entirely counter-balancing the perfection of the elf, but not as badly as the dwarf. He would look back casually at her, as if checking to see whether she could keep up, noting her stamina, which she knew surprised him.

You'd be surprised by the things I've done, Aragorn. I've tortured men just like you, some I've even killed. You think you are some great warrior? Insolent Muggle. You have not yet met the true meaning of warrior.

It did not take long before Bellatrix was wishing for some excitement, as the walk between the party were silent for the most part, and she wished for some sort of action.

But despite her dark thoughts and her boredom, she noticed something that amused her greatly a few hours into there hike. It seemed that the man was talking under his breath, and that the Veela was listening to him, and responding! If she was anyone else, she probably would have not noticed.

She was sure they were communicating about her, and to test this theory she started experimenting (something very uncharacteristic of her, she would add. But things were changing around her whether she liked it or not, so why not?).

She would reach out and touch a leaf, or something of the sort that didn't include the mindless task of walking, just to do something suspicious. The Veela would stiffen behind her, and purposely step down with weight on the ground, for he didn't make any sound normally when walking, causing the leaves to crunch. The man would hear, and turn slightly, surveying her, then if he found her actions harmless, would turn back around.

She didn't think they thought she was doing it on purpose, but Bellatrix was a master surveyor, and noticed everything.

Far more than Aragorn and the Twit would ever know.

ooo

Light started to filter from somewhere ahead of Gandalf, and it surprised Bellatrix.

They had been walking in near darkness for so long, she forgot what light was like, and as her eyes dilated, she could see her companions more clearly. She blinked rapidly to adjust to the light, and had to suppress the urge to reach for her wand.

Gandalf was at the lead of her group, and now that there was light, she saw just how truly bright his robes were just before he covered them with a drab grey cloak. They glittered iridescently, and it seemed as if multiple colors of thread were weaved into the fabric itself, so that it shimmered with the luster of a rainbow.

Her eyes ran directly into the back of the dwarf, Gimli.

Gimli! His appearance matches his freak name.

In the light, she could see how intricate his armor was; the designs were complicated, and it had many tedious links of chainmail. His mahogany hair was protruding from under his helmet and he wore a cloak of green with a green-leaf brooch that was so delicate-looking, it contrasted heavily with the rest of his get up.

His armor reminded her of her Death Eaters mask, and she scrunched her nose up.

In excitement of finally being out of the dreary forest, Bellatrix started skipping towards the light, but she caught her boot under a root, and instead of tripping, made it seems as if she were brushing some dirt off her knees… ungracefully.

She then returned to her stiff form, and spat on the root.

"Fucking Mandrake."

Then cackled loudly, startling those in her company.

Brushing aside her previous playful attitude, she grew stiff as she remembered that the others were watching, and returned to her place in line from where she had strayed.

They broke into the light of the prairie, and Bellatrix could see from behind the dwarf that the borders of the forest stopped abruptly and lead on into a vast country with… no castle in sight.

How… odd.

But she didn't voice her questions (lest she bring more harm to the back of her pounding head).

"Finally! We've made it out of that stinking rott—I'm mean charming, quite charming forest!" The dwarf exclaimed with the deep rumbling of his voice. Bellatrix caught herself agreeing with his comment, thinking the same.

She turned to Gandalf, as she convinced herself to start calling him, and raised a thin eyebrow.

"Well?"

Gandalf smiled, as he always seems to do and renounced, "One stage of this journey is over." He panned his vision among the other four, catching eyes with them each, "War has come to Rohan. We must ride to Edoras, and to King Théoden and his people, with all speed."

Bellatrix looked at him disbelievingly.

"Ride?" She looked disgustingly at him, "I don't ride."

Gandalf, being the wise old wizard he was, merely ignored her comment and turned from her. He started to whistle, and from the great plained distance, a glorious white creature came. Almost gliding to the spot where there where standing, it gave a great whinny, flipping its hair so it shined with an essence of the suns rays itself.

She had to admit, she was impressed, and when Gandalf pet the forehead of the great creature the Veela asked her silent question.

"This is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell." He reached out for the creature, but recoiled his hands in sudden thought, and instead caressing its body with his eyes.

"This is my friends, is Shadowfax, the Lord of all horses." He laughed to himself, "The finest of all of Théoden's breed, and my friend through many dangers."

"Oh…"

Bellatrix didn't want to admit—well she didn't want to admit to anything really—she thought it was impressive. But still, it was only one horse. Did the old fag expect all five of them to ride on the back of it? As impressive as the beast was, it was that impressive.

"Well, then I guess it's high time for me to be off," she coughed a bit, and started to make her way back into the forest. She felt a sudden tug, and looked back to see the back of her cloak-like dress being held down to the ground by his staff.

"Ah, ah, ah, ah! Just where do you think you are off to?"

The old coot was behind her, and looking at her with those eyes that made her unnerved.

"Where do you think, you bloody idiot! I'm leaving! I'm going back into the forest and finding that dammed portkey, or what-have-your-bleeding-ears, and getting the fuck back to where I came from!"

He merely laughed, reached out his giant hand, grabbed the back of her neck, and handed her off to the gruffy man.

Aragorn, I think it was.

He held her by her arms, softly, but with authority, as if he remembered that her character was in question but had to remind himself that she was a woman. His hands were warm, and slightly damp with sweat, but calloused on the puffsof the palms.

"I would advise you, My Lady," He whispered in her ear from behind, "to hold your tongue and come with us willingly. It is the will of the wizard, and so you shall do it."

She slammed her elbow into his chest. He gave a grunt, but then tightened his hold on her.

"I don't think I'll be able to comply."

From the distance, again something approached. This time two horses came galloping.

Bellatrix spat.

"I feel quite excited for the chap who shares my horse."

Aragorn tugged her over to the horse closest to him, and urged her to get ontop.

"Do not fret, milady, I feel absolutely delighted."

oOo

Sorry it's taken so long, I've just felt like this chapter was inadequate, but now its time to get back on the boat. Thanks!