Thanks to everyone who sent in an OC! The as-of-yet unnamed "Fellowship" is complete! That doesn't mean that no one else is going to make an appearance, though...
Chapter Two: An Unlikely Alliance
.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.
Dale was a peaceful place. Some would even say that magic had a hand in it, the silence was so uncanny. The wind could blow, rattling the windowpanes, and summer rain could fall, making the cobbled streets slick with water, but not so much as an angry word would make an appearance. At least, not while it was cool out, and the shopkeepers and toymakers kept their fair prices standing. But if anyone happened to look out of their window...
If anyone looked out of their window, they would see a most unusual sight - after all, both elves and Uruks had become exceedingly rare, to the point of legend in fact, in recent years, and to see a Man with them made it completely impossible.
The Uruk was a daunting sight, standing so tall that he even towered over his elven companion, and wearing full Uruk battle armor - minus the helmet. He'd unfortunately lost that a long time ago. Underneath the crude metal plates, however, were regular clothes. Clean clothes. There wasn't so much as a blood spot on the pristine brown fabric of his tunic, which had been made from the fabric of two normal-sized tunics, and his pants were even rolled up at his ankles, lifting the hems above the mud that rarely made an appearance in the markets of Dale. He looked more intrigued than murderous, and a small smile tugged at his lips.
The she-elf was both frightening and beautiful, as with many of her people before they were killed. Her hair and eyes were the same shade of dark brown, and she was tall, with a build that was a bit broader than usual for an elf. The Avari - her people - had been a small people to begin with, and the Last Alliance had seen them driven into legend as an extinct culture. Two of them remained, however - Erestor, who had found protection among other elves during the battle, and his sister, Alena, who, while having led the Avari army, had been knocked out and thought dead with the first wave of orcs. Her brother had found her in the aftermath and nursed her back to health, restoring her a chief to a dead people. She hadn't gotten over that fact, not by a long shot, but she was at peace with the Uruk she traveled with - Turig the Strong, a half-orc turned traitor to Saruman and Sauron alike. He had defended the White City of Gondor with his life, earning him a place of renown in history, and the friendship of a wizard - Gandalf the White.
The Man's presence, while unthinkable, made a bit more sense as to why this unlikely duo were in the peaceful, predawn city of Dale. Christopher Merryweather was not, after all, a normal citizen. Suspicions abounded about him being a thief, but if so, then he was a notoriously cautious one: not a single scrap of evidence could be found that he had taken any of the missing items. He had a valid job, too - a bargeman. But he didn't carry barrels, empty or otherwise, which made the scene suddenly very clear. He was going to ferry the pair down the River Running.
"Well? C'mon, then! Dawn comes quickly at this time o' year, and I don't fancy tha' you'd like to be seen by the townsfolk. They're a mighty suspicious bunch, and you'd be right at the top o' their list if ya don't hurry." Christopher - or Chris, as he preferred to be called - started to untie his barge from is docking place in the shallow river that ran alongside Dale, glancing at Alena and Turig as he did so. Turig, as usual, took action immediately, climbing onto the barge with two loud clomps from his heavy boots and sitting down cross legged near the bow. Alena hesitated a moment, glancing around the sleeping town, and Chris spoke up again.
"Ya might want to get on quick, Miss. Toy shop right behind ya opens in about five minutes or so." She shook her head, nodded afterwards, and jumped onto the barge as it drifted slightly away from the bank. The deck shuddered at the impact, but Alena just took a seat beside Turig, oblivious to Chris taking a flying leap towards the escaping barge and almost landing in the water. "Where to, again?" He questioned, moving to stand beside the rudder.
"As far south as you can take us," Alena replied, still looking straight ahead. She had heard rumors of other elves living in the south, others who, like her, had refused to sail. She might not have been the one of the last Avari, after all. Turig was just tagging along for the sake of being somewhere new, she supposed, but she wasn't going to complain. The Uruk's company was more pleasurable in its silence than if she were to travel alone. The Uruk looked back over his shoulder, offering Chris a reassuring grin. What he meant it to convey was, "Don't worry, she's always like this." What came to Chris' mind was, "By the Valar, its teeth are sharp. Ignore it and hope its not hungry..."
Shivering, Chris abandoned the rudder for a moment, picking up the long pole he kept against the wall of the barge. He jabbed it at the bank, and the barge shook before gliding almost silently down the river. Wordlessly, Alena took the pole from the human's hands, digging it into the water like a paddle. Chris looked shocked for a moment, and then he returned to the rudder.
"You...have experience with boats then, Miss?"
Alena glanced at him, still moving the barge along the unmoving river. "Even a child could understand that the river is not moving, so the barge must be moved manually. Rock."
"Wha-Oh!" Chris pulled back on the rudder, causing the barge to swerve away from the rock that just barely broke the surface of the water. Turig lurched sideways, catching himself before he could hit the deck, and grumbled something in Black Speech. Whatever it was, it made Alena smile.
The day slowly wore on, each hour seeing the trio doing the exact same thing - Alena shoving the pole against the river bed, Turig sitting at the bow, and Chris steering the barge. By the middle of the day, they had passed the corner of Mirkwood that the River Running passed through, and the current picked up. Alena set the pole back against the wall of the barge and sat down beside Turig once more, watching the sun-baked fields on either side of her glide by. Chris was having a harder time with the rudder, seeing as how rocks were becoming more and more common, but this wasn't his first time downriver - not once did the barge collide with any of the obstacles that surrounded it. As the sun set and stars dotted the sky, Chris nodded towards the pole.
"Shove us off into that creek there, would you?" Alena climbed to her feet, stretching after almost six hours of doing nothing, and picked up the pole again. The barge jolted with the miscalculated force behind the push, but it still slid into the smaller stream that broke off from the river. Turig instantly looked more interested - he'd never been here before during his travels in the aftermath of the War. The rudder wasn't of any use here - it would have just scraped along the bottom of the stream. Instead, Chris sat back and let Alena pole them through the calm, shallow waters. He smirked and looked down at the little bauble in his hands. The sight and senses of elves were clearly over exaggerated, seeing as how he'd stolen the bracelet clean off of her wrist when she took the pole from him...
"That does not belong to you, Bargeman." Chris jumped considerably, almost falling overboard. Turig had turned around, scowling as he looked between the clay bracelet and the thief. He started to draw his scimitar from its sheath, but was stopped by a tap on the shoulder. Alena returned the pole to the water as she watched her friend.
"It's nothing important, Turig. I can make another one just as easily as he stole that one. The paints, however, will be a different story..." She pursed her lips, thinking of how much just the vibrant blue dye had cost, not to mention the other colors. Green and brown were much cheaper, seeing as how they could be made out of nearly anything. "I would be much more upset if he had taken my crown."
Chris perked up immediately, eyes going wide as he registered this. Crown? But only royalty...
Alena snorted at his expression before reaching up into her smooth hair, drawing out a long braid that had been hidden among the locks. An ornate silver cylinder was woven into it, boasting a proud design of swirls and flowers. "It is made from the destroyed metal of the crown that belonged to my mother, once. Take this, and I would have hunted you down and given you the slowest, most painful death any Man ever suffered."
Chris gulped and nodded, looking away. Turig seemed satisfied with the threat, only pausing to growl threateningly at the bargeman. The clay bracelet slipped unseen into a pouch at the thief's side.
.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.
"Why are you following me, mutt?" Braigwen questioned harshly, glaring openly at Syn as she whirled around. The Rohir smiled innocently and planted the end of her spear into the ground. She bowed in a mocking way, almost seeming to Bob up and down on the streets of Minas Tirith.
"Syn, daughter of Dimyr, at your service. I am your new companion!" Braigwen jerked back, shaking her head rapidly.
"No! I don't want any...companions, thank you very much!" She spat out the word 'companions' like it might bite her, but Syn wasn't going to be deterred. She ran forward and swung her spear in front of the Ranger, still grinning. The two glared at each other for a long moment, and then Braigwem drew her knives in a long, deliberate movement, making sure that the glint of the well-polished daggers caught the attention of everyone on the street, as if they weren't already watching. In turn, Syn leaned her spear against a cart and drew her sword in a flash, an excited glint in her eyes.
"How about this, Ranger. Ya beat me in a fight, an' I'll leave ya alone. I beat ya in a fight, an' you have ta let me tag along. Deal?" She started edging sideways, trying to imagine the Ranger as one of the bandits that had killed off the Sceald. Somewhat reluctantly, the woman nodded.
"Deal."
Syn dove in for the attack, sword raised high above her head, but Braigwen had noticed her getting ready to strike earlier and brought up her daggers so fast that gasps rang through the watching crowd and the circle the two were enclosed in widened a bit. The Ranger shoved against the Rohir's sword with a grunt, and both weapon and wielder fell backwards. Braigwen ran at Syn before she had a chance to recover, raising both daggers as if to go for the kill - which she had no intention of doing, as all she had to do was hold the shieldmaiden at knifepoint like she'd done with the elf, Hithon - but the ground suddenly rushed to meet her, and her jaw knocked violently against the stones, causing the sharp tang of her own blood to fill her mouth.
Syn grinned wildly as she lurched to her feet, and Braigwen groaned as the cold pressure of the other woman's sword pressed against the side of her throat. "I believe I won, elf-kid. Now...where are you headed to?"
"The Mountains of the East and beyond. Now, let me up!" Syn laughed as she stepped back, sheathing her sword and picking up her spear again. Braigwen did the same to her daggers - noting that they were dull again - and staggered upright, rubbing her jaw.
"Any particular reason?" Syn had to admit, she was curious. No one just up and decided that they were going to not only see the Mountains of the East, but that they were going to cross over them. It was literally unheard of. Unless one counted two certain wizards...
"The terms were that you would just tag along. 'Tag along' does not mean that you need to know the reason behind the journey." Braigwen started off down the street, the crowd from the fight starting to disperse. The Rohir's heavier footsteps followed her closely and she sighed. This was going to be the hardest feat of her young life...
.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.:*:.
I just have two things to say:
One: I'm stuck on what the name of the 'Fellowship' should be. I can't keep calling them the Fellowship, because everyone seems to think that I mean the Fellowship of the Ring. Something starting with League of or Band of might work, but I don't have any definites yet.
Two: THIS APPLIES TO EVERYONE WHO LEFT OR IS THINKING OF LEAVING AN OC. I do have plans for this story, but there are certain issues that need to be cleared up. There will be a villain in this story, and maybe several minor villains, but some of them might happen to be OC's. There also might be character death, ad once again, some of them might be OC's. If you are alright with pretty much anything happening to your OC(s), please leave a review ending with, "Giant Purple Pancakes." If you do not want anything happening to your OC that might lead to death, please leave a review saying, "The Math Homework Ate My Dog." If you skipped this A/N... We're all going to be laughing at you as you try and figure out what's up with the reviews.
Thank you for reading!