Hi all, thank you for the positive response to the prologue, you inspired me to get the first chapter written and sent out for you extra fast. However first and foremost I must get some things out of the way, firstly as I forgot in the prologue.
Disclaimer: I don't own The Lord Of The Rings, if I did I'd be a lot richer and that new series wouldn't have been made, these fantastic stories and worlds are owned by the Tolkien estate and New Line Cinema respectively.
Now for the more enjoyable part, review responses.
JannerWingfeather: thank you for the kind words, I'm doing my best to make this both legible and enjoyable but it's an uphill struggle at the best of times so thank you for the encouragement.
Shon . kat: thank you for the encouragement, I'm going to start delving more deeply into the MC soon and what drives him, as for characters I'm going to try and avoid both too many OC's and such but for now he does need someone to interact with, too much introspection can be incredibly dull.
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Chapter one: definitely not in Kansas anymore.
Gleodan, master of the caravan found himself running to the side of the collapsed stranger who'd come to their aid, as he did he couldn't help but glance over to the cart his daughter and son had been hiding in, sighing in relief when he saw them both peeking out to watch him, he'd feared the worst when he'd seen the vile goblins preparing to burn it, only for the stranger to come and "distract" the horrid creatures with brutal efficiency.
Kneeling at the man's side he quickly checked for wounds, knowing that if he had any and they contained goblin poison, or even if their blades had been fouled then this man would be in a quite literal fight for his life.
However even as he thought of such things he couldn't help but be surprised at the stranger's colossal height, it was obvious even whilst he lay there collapsed.
Hearing the pattering of footsteps he glanced up to see the other men of the caravan surrounding them. "Don't just stand there! Haedrig, Athelstan! Go check for survivors, if they're goblins, kill them, any of ours are to be taken to the healer, go! Thengel, Guthmer, Derngar! Go put out those carts!" He snapped, the men in question nodding and occasionally grunting in acknowledgement as they ran to fulfil his commands, checking the man over he realised as he finally got a good look at him how young he must have been, he looked like he might have still been in his teens even, barely a couple of years older than his own daughter!
"Is he going to be well father?" he heard said daughter ask, glancing up to see her looking at him in concern, his son standing behind her nervously, clutching a dagger of his own and looking about with wild eyes.
"As far as I can tell? Yes, he doesn't seem to have been wounded." He stated musingly, looking him over for wounds one more time. 'Maybe he collapsed due to shock? The boy had clearly never fought in a battle before….' He thought, his movements and reactions had shown that, though obviously well trained he'd lacked the instincts of a veteran.
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"That is good." L'eodiona murmured, kneeling by her father, looking at him as she thought. "What language was he speaking father? I've never heard it's like." She stated, assuming her father would know, after all he was far better travelled than her.
"I know not, in some ways it reminded me of Rohirric, in others Westron…I've never heard it's like..." He mused, standing and turning to her. "L'eodiona, watch over him until he wakes." Her father commanded, before then turning to go and deal with the others who needed his oversight.
Her little brother Gleothain looked up at her, he'd barely seen his tenth year and was still wide-eyed from the battle he'd witnessed. "W-what is he 'diona? Is he an elf?" He asked, using his nickname for her.
L'eodiona frowned and reached down to push a couple of locks of the stranger's dark hair to one side to reveal one of his ears, rounded like any other man's, looking over her shoulder at her brother she shook her head. "No, he's a man…" She stated, she had wondered herself if she were honest, what with his height and speed.
Looking back to the man she couldn't help but squeak when she saw a pair of steel-grey eyes watching her, a single dark brow raised in amused confusion. Leaping back she blushed as she realised her touch must have woken him.
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"Maybe in a decade sweetheart." I teased with a laugh, seeing her blush, the girl looked like she couldn't have been older than fifteen at most whilst I was twenty-two, I'd forgotten for the moment that they couldn't understand me, sitting up I looked around in confusion before where I was and what I'd just done came back to me.
Grunting I stood to my new full towering height and stretched, very aware that my empty stomach was roaring in fury at its continued lack of attention, but for now ignored it, instead sheathing the sword that still hung loosely from my hand, the dull ring of steel on steel catching the eye of a few others, though once they saw it was only me sheathing my sword they swiftly got back to work.
Looking about again I thought for a moment, trying to figure out why the language I heard these people speaking sounded so very familiar before shelving that for later and going to see where I could help, only to raise an inquisitive brow at my tiny escort as the two kids moved to follow me, though after a moment the boy ran over to the only man wearing full armour, chattering rapidly and gesturing at me, I on the other hand was more surprised at the man's equipment. 'A Maile hauberk, a shield and a simple nasal-helm? Not exactly at the cutting edge of medieval armour are we?' I thought silently to myself, already getting a sinking sensation as to where I just might be, 'there are few enough fantasy series set in the low medieval period after all, plus that girl had been checking my ears…' However I didn't have enough data to come to any real conclusions yet.
Giving a small but polite smile to the man that must have been in charge and a small bow of my head I spoke, even though I knew he'd probably not understand me. "Hello, thank you for posting these two to look over me." I kept my tone polite and as clear as possible, hoping it'd pierce the language barrier even if my words could not, I was also making an educated guess that he'd left the kids to watch over me.
"Wit cnihtcild, yfel d swîgen¯ænig pro wênato êower hlêoðorcwide, ðe êow bryttian mîn wuldor ðêana ofercyme oferniman ûser tôfylstan." The man said, holding out his hand to shake.
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"Well lad, I've still no idea what you're saying, but you have my thanks for coming to our aid." Gleodan stated warmly, holding out his arm, the boy hesitating before seemingly figuring out his meaning and stepping forward to clasp his arm in a warriors handshake.
Only for after a moment the air to be split by a gurgling roar as the boy's stomach let out a titanic grumble for food, prompting an amused giggle from his children and a mortified blush from the lad, chuckling softly himself and seeing how the boy held no pack he realised that hunger was quite probably the reason he'd passed out, patting the lad on the shoulder he pointed to one of the intact carts and intoned slowly. "Food." Stretching the word uselessly but hoping he'd understand his meaning, only to get a blank look in return.
Sighing he told his daughter. "L'eodiona, go show him where he can get some food." Getting a nod in return, though he couldn't help but eye the boys massive blade when his back was turned, the weapon had to be at least four feet long, it reminded him of an elvish blade he'd once had the pleasure of seeing, it had the size and he could tell the steel was of the highest quality, he'd have to ask him later if he could take a look at it.
Watching the lad be dragged off he called out to one of the men he'd sent off earlier. "Haedrig!" The man came running over swiftly. "How many did we lose?" He asked gently once the guard was closer, the two had worked together for many years and knew each other well.
"Four men who were cut down before they could arm themselves, Eoblod, Fuldan, L'eoor and Hereman, three more who were cut down during the battle, Guthl'af, Haleth and Fenling, two women when they tried to flee, Widwyn and Eawena…" seeing the man take a deep breath and fight back tears Gleodan knew this would be the part he'd been dreading. "A-and three of the little ones, the bastard goblins set the cart they were hiding in on fire…T-they never had a chance to flee…"
Seeing that the man was near breaking Gleodan put a hand on his shoulder. "They've been avenged, that is all we can do for them now." He stated as strongly as he could, feeling the hand at his side shake in rage at what the goblins had done…and relief that they hadn't got to his own children.
Seeing Haedrig take a deep breath and nod he asked curiously. "Any injuries to report?" Just glad he'd had the foresight to pay for a healer to accompany the caravan.
"Nothing major, a few cuts and grazes that have been treated appropriately, though Ceorl is going to be bed bound for a few days, he took a nasty smack to the chest and he's more than likely broken a few ribs." He stated, clearly glad for the distraction from the thoughts of the children that'd been lost.
Nodding in understanding Gleodan thought for a moment before he ordered. "Bury those we lost, pile the goblins up and burn them…and once the fires have cooled bury what you can of the little ones." He finished grimly, knowing this day would haunt his nightmares for years to come.
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L'eodiona heard the footsteps behind her pause as she led the strange man to the supplies cart, looking over her shoulder she saw that he was looking at one of the burnt-out carts in abject horror, his face pale as he swayed.
Following his gaze she felt her own breath hitch as there, huddled together in the burnt-out ruin of that cart were three little bodies, children she'd only been looking after that morning, feeling tears prickle in her own eyes she looked up to her large companion, seeing the way his steel-grey eyes stared at them, unshed tears glistening in them.
Taking his hand in hers she drew his attention to her, knowing he couldn't understand her words she still offered. "It wasn't your fault, you saved far more today than we could have ever asked for." He seemed to take her meaning, though after a moment he looked back into the cart, now however the tears were gone, instead his expression was twisted in a look of sheer hate, his fists clenched and his teeth bared in a grimace of disgust, before after a moment he mastered himself and his expression settled into a mask of neutrality, though she could still see how his eyes burned with fury.
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'What kind of dream is this?" I pondered as I ate the bread and cheese I'd been given, my mind not really on my food but on what I'd seen earlier in that cart. 'My imagination is nowhere near cruel enough to show me such detailed images of horror on its own accord…' I thought, flinching as I remembered those three little blackened bodies, I knew such atrocities had happened in history, still happened in some parts of the world…but I'd never had to deal with the horror of seeing such things in person before.
Pushing aside such thoughts I took a deep breath and tried to figure out just why I was still here, I'd never had a dream that covered multiple days before, nor one that was so coherent, instead they were usually a jumble of images and sounds, not this… 'Maybe I'm in a coma?' I wandered with a small sardonic half-smile, grunting I stood, I'd finished my food and took my wooden plate back to the kindly smiling woman who'd handed it to me, trying to ignore the blonde limpet I'd seemingly acquired in the form of the teen girl who was following me around. "Thank you." I said to the woman, holding out my used plate with a small but polite smile, I knew she couldn't understand me, but I'd been raised with good manners and I was damned well going to use them!
Getting a smile and some incomprehensible gibberish back I guessed I'd done the right thing and nodded with another smile before taking off, glad to be full again for the first time in literal days.
Striding off I went to go and see who, if any needed my aid, amazed at how much energy I seemingly had now, my massive stride taking me where I desired at an impressive speed, though I noted with a small amount of amusement that my blonde follower was still with me, even if she had to nearly run to keep up.
Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
The next day we set off, the caravans master, a man I'd learned was called Gleodan, hadn't made any move to ask me to leave and so I'd decided to travel with them, mostly as this dream had proven violent and I still feared being killed in it.
Marching alongside the caravan I swiftly grew bored with the slow pace and found myself scouting ahead, my long legs allowing me to easily march ahead of the convoy and check what was over the hills, this allowed me to see the ruins of the city that I'd heard was called Tharbad, though it was sparsely inhabited it'd clearly once been a great city, the ruined sight reminding me uncomfortably of the ruins of Rome, the architecture even had a slightly similar feel.
Making my way back to the caravan I pointed to the ruined city appearing out of the mists and asked Gleodan. "Tharbad?" and getting a nod in return I couldn't help but frown in no small amount of consternation, I'd expected more, but judging by the state of the ruined road I certainly shouldn't have, this land seemed desolate and incredibly empty, I got the strange feeling that once, many centuries ago this land had been a great nation, but that now it wasn't even a shadow of its former self.
Grunting I nodded to him and set off again, going for a closer look, my sharp eyes letting me take in the city and the ruined bridge. 'No wonder they crossed at the river, there are more holes than bridge!' I thought sarcastically.
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As they rode Gleodan couldn't help but ponder another mystery that he'd learned only that morning, he'd been surprised that none of his people had been felled by goblin arrows and now he knew why, his men and their strange ally had found the bodies of goblin archers that morning, all felled by an unknown archer or archers, judging by their looks of surprised terror they'd never even realised that they were being hunted! He had no idea who'd helped them but he was grateful, he'd have lost a lot more people if not for their aid.
On the other hand as he watched the boy march off over the next hill again he couldn't help but get a feeling that he knew what he was finally, it was only a theory however, he'd not yet shared it as most of his men didn't even believe the people he thought this boy to be a part of had ever even existed, though from what he knew the men of Gondor might have known more…
Riding alongside him was his daughter, who watched the stranger with as much fascination as the rest of his men, maybe even more. "Does he never grow tired father?" she asked curiously, he'd been going since the morning and had only had a small breakfast too.
Before he could answer one of his men, Guthmer piped up. "It's not natural, no man should be so tireless, did you see him yesterday? Right after a battle and running around 'till the young miss made him stop! Like one of those bloody elves!" at which point he spat and muttered for a moment more under his breath.
"Guthmer, you'll watch your tongue around my daughter." Gleodan warned, his tone stern as he glared the now nervous-looking man down, before then turning back to his daughter and ignoring the man's apology. "I don't know daughter…I don't know…" though if his theory as to the boy's heritage was right then he would…eventually.
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Later that day we stopped to set up camp for the night, which mostly consisted of setting up a few fires, putting chocks behind the carts wheels to stop them rolling away during the night and feeding the horses.
I'd settled down to eat and drink, listening to the conversation around me, I hadn't offered to take any of the watches and I didn't think they'd asked, a guard who couldn't speak the language was little use after all.
A few of the guards looked over to me and burst out in laughter, I had a feeling I knew why as well, looking at the group of children that sat around me playing, eating and continuously trying to either nick my sword, in the case of the boys or looking at me and giggling in the case of the girls…it was extremely annoying, I'd never understood or got on well with kids. Sighing I finished as fast as I could before standing up and marching off to give my plate to one of the ladies of the caravan, I'd swiftly realised this morning that they'd get very offended if I tried to clean it myself.
Seeing some commotion I made my way over to where Gleodan was sitting, talking to a stranger who'd just been brought into the camp.
Turning to me the stranger, who I was rather surprised to see looked remarkably similar to me blinked in obvious surprise of his own before touching his hand to his chest and saying in yet another language i'd never heard. "Eithel govannen gwanur."
Tilting my head my best to return the...greeting? "Um…hi?" my confusion plain as the man with steel-grey eyes and dark hair tilted his head, as seemingly confused about my words as I was his. He was also I noticed taller than the other men around us, though not as tall as I, I'd realised during the day that I was probably around six-foot-ten.
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Gleodan stood when Haedrig brought the tall stranger into their camp, his dark clothes and grim look already telling him which people the man belonged too long before he was introduced. "Sir, there is a Ranger of the north here to see you." He sounded nervous, which made sense, the Rangers of the north were not well known to the common man, even Gleodan had very little contact with them.
"Greetings Master of the caravan, I am Eretor of the Dunedain, I wished to see how you were doing after yesterday's battle?" the man asked politely in perfect Westron, though his accent was a little strange.
"Ah, so you were the mysterious archer who cut down the goblin bowmen?" Gleodan asked knowingly, noticing their strange ally walking over to them with obvious curiosity.
Seeing the Ranger nod in confirmation he continued. "We are well and thank you for your aid, those archers would have caused us a great many issues."
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Eretor smiled faintly and bowed his head politely, before then turning when he heard footsteps and blinking in surprise when he took in the man who'd walked up to them, he'd watched this man, no boy most of the day, though he hadn't got a good look at him till now, he hadn't realised how tall the lad was till he stood so close to him, he also hadn't realised there were any pureblooded Numenoreans left in the world. Bowing his head and putting his hand to his chest he greeted him warmly in perfect Sindarin. "Well met kinsman."-(=========
Righto! That's chapter 1 done!
To clarify, no the MC isn't going to be getting with L'eodiona as though a twenty-two year old and a fourteen year old is fine in medieval society, the MC grew up in our time and has at least seem-modern values, one of which is the age of consent. Plus…just ew.
Also I unfortunately do not speak both old English and Sindarin, I had to use translation sites for both, and yes I do know that the Rohirrim don't speak old English, but it's as a nice stand in, especially with their culture being so heavily inspired by the Saxons.
As for the MC's name that'll be revealed next chapter which I'm hoping to publish Tuesday or Wednesday.