Disclaimers: I do not own The Lord of the Rings and The Phantom of the Opera. The Lord of the Rings belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien, New Line Cinemas, Warner Brothers, Turbine, and Standing Stones Games. The Phantom of the Opera belongs to Gaston Leroux, Andrew Lloyd Webber, and Joel Schumacher. All other canon material belongs to their respected owners. All original material, including my original characters, belongs to me, the authoress of this fanfiction story.
Warning! This fanfiction story is Rated M for Mature. It is Rated M for underage sexual themes in the first few chapters of this story-characters will be older for the rest of this fanfiction story-swearing, violence, character deaths, sensuality, ghost sex, rape, incest, dark, disturbing, intense themes and images.
Summary: Formerly titled, A Lost Blue Rose. Part 5 of the Blue Rose fanfiction series.
On the night of Frodo Baggins' birth, a Seductress named Neida becomes Frodo's godmother. This longing takes its toll, for Drogo and Primula Baggins, Frodo's parents, keep their son away from the Seductress.
Shortly after the death of Frodo's parents, Frodo is met by the Seductress, as Neida attempts to befriend him. Their friendship grows in more ways than one, as Frodo becomes almost as good as Neida with seduction. However, on Frodo's twenty-first birthday, Frodo grows fond of his newfound friend, a hobbit named Gale Boffin. Enraged, Neida decides to lure Frodo to her lair in the Paris Opera House.
Can Frodo resist Neida's powers? Will Gale stop Neida? And what of the Phantom of the Opera himself, who has taken Neida under his wing as his student?
A crossover between The Lord of the Rings and The Phantom of the Opera.
Welcome to Part 5 of the Blue Rose fanfiction series. :)
Yes, this fanfic was formerly titled, A Lost Blue Rose. It was started in 2011, and then got deleted for reasons I don't recall. Now, it's back in 2024, titled The Blue Rose: Fates Intertwined.
The Prologue and Chapter One were the chapters first posted on in 2011. For some reason, I didn't get my OFC the Seductress | Neida's character right the first time back in 2011. So now, here's hoping I can do Neida justice and get her character right.
We got a preview of the first few chapters for this fanfic already in my fanfiction poem collection trilogy, Ashes and Blue Roses, part of the Blue Rose fanfiction series. Given the summary, this fanfic is likely to deviate from the poem collection trilogy, as I figured would happen. :) It was likely to, given how my poem collection trilogy is a zero draft, while this fanfic is more or less the finished story, meaning the rest of the drafts are either revised on the first draft or rewritten in other chapter drafts.
As far as the Blue Rose fanfiction series goes, what we see is the roles have switched from their "Phantom of the Opera" counterparts. This means that Frodo Baggins takes on the role of Christine Daaé, my OFC Gale Boffin takes on the role of Raoul De Chagny, and my OFC Neida | the Seductress is, of course, the Phantom of the Opera | Erik, while Christine, Raoul, and the Phantom are part of this fanfiction story.
Okay, I think I said all I need to say. So, without further ado, I present my fanfiction story, and Part 5 of the Blue Rose fanfiction series, The Blue Rose: Fates Intertwined. Enjoy! :)
.x.
Prologue Disclaimers: Drogo Baggins, Primula Brandybuck-Baggins, Frodo Baggins, and Buckland, Middle-earth comes from J.R.R. Tolkien's book trilogy, The Lord of the Rings. Neida | the Seductress is my original female character.
Act I
Prologue:
Godmother
11:00 p.m. on September 22nd, Year 2968 Third Age of Middle-earth…
Drogo Baggins slept soundly on his brown cushioned chair.
The autumn air was crisp outside his hobbit hole in Buckland. And yet, that crisp air could have also been from the hot, sweet apple cider, sitting in a mug atop a dark brown stool. Drogo had set the stool next to his brown cushioned chair inside his hobbit house's parlour, in case he wanted another drink from his apple cider.
His hobbit house, a smial as it was known, was found nestled at the bottom of the hill, near where Brandy Hall, a grand smial in Buckland, resided. Its parlour had a set of cushioned chairs, one brown and one rose colored, as well as a grand window nestled against one end of the wall, complete with its own wide, dark mahogany window ledge. A couch sat in the middle of the room, while a table with four wooden chairs was nestled against the wall, close to the window ledge. A bookcase even stood up against one of the opposite walls, close to where the kitchen was located on the other end of a nearby arched door, made out of dark oak.
A brimming stone fireplace with a dark mahogany mantelpiece, fixtured with a rectangular mirror atop the mantelpiece, while painted portraits resided on the mantelpiece. These portraits depicted Drogo's plump, respectable face, and Primula Brandybuck-Baggins, Drogo's wife, had a fair, prominent face. Both their hair was curly, thick, and brown, quite like the rest of the hobbits from Buckland and the Shire. In the portraits, Drogo and Primula were each donned in respectable clothing, even as they were now.
However, Drogo took this time to take off his lime green, floral waistcoat, leaving him wearing a white dress shirt, dark brown suspenders, and dark brown trousers, with its pant ankles chopped off to show off his feet. Drogo had seen Primula wearing her white nightgown, shortly before she went off to bed. Drogo chose to stay up late in the parlour and read his book on boating and adventures out at sea, as well as filling a ceramic floral mug with hot apple cider earlier in the kitchen.
But now, his apple cider was almost gone! It was delicious though!
The sweet drizzle of brown, flaky cinnamon, drizzled atop the apple cider's surface, wafted up Drogo's nostrils. He smiled as his nostrils took in the scent of fresh apples, now seeping through the air.
He opened his eyes, grateful his drink was cooling down a little bit. He picked up his mug, drinking the last of the sweet nectar, before holding the mug snug in his hands, as if he was protecting his most precious drink.
He glanced up for a moment, hearing the cries of his newborn son, Frodo Baggins. His boy! Drogo's son, with those bright blue eyes shining back at him. Drogo and his Brandybuck wife, Primula Baggins, had done a fine job with him today. The healer had gotten to work with the midwife to help Primula give birth to Frodo. They spent the day by Primula's side afterwards, helping her with Frodo, before deciding to come back the next morning to check up on her, Drogo, and Frodo.
Drogo had agreed, in spite his best interests in feeling Frodo was a fine young lad, a newborn, but still a fine young lad.
And now that he checked the clock, Drogo knew it was time for bed. Standing up, he left the parlour, rushing into the kitchen to drain his mug in the sink's faucet, before setting his mug in the kitchen sink. He looked up at the round glass window, promptly noting the night sky and all its stars, wondering who was watching over him and his family.
He sighed, leaving the kitchen—complete with its dark stove, dark oak cupboards, grey marble counter, and a wooden island in the centermost part of the kitchen—before making a beeline towards the next door, heading into the hallway. He made his way for his and Primula's room, with its blue carpeted floor and lilac painted walls, where he knew his wife was asleep. Frodo was in his crib in the next room, but his door was opened in case either Drogo or Primula had to change him.
Now was not a good moment, for no sooner had Drogo came in to find his wife, with her fair features and her brown curly hair, nestled in their king sized bed, complete with its own bluish-purple covers, white floral sheets, and white, soft feather pillows, were they roused by a noise coming from Frodo's bedroom.
It was a sound they didn't want to hear. Frodo was screaming happily. Something wasn't right.
Primula shot out of bed, even as Drogo made his way into Frodo's bedroom. And there, standing inside Frodo's room, from which his crib could be found at one side of the room, with its soft green carpeted floor, rounded light earthen painted walls, an oak dresser that stood towards the end of the bedroom, and a wooden chest protruding against the opposite wall, was a woman donned in black robes and dressed in black boots. Her hair was jet black, but curly. She looked like death had crept up on her, and yet, she looked so young.
Drogo grabbed the nearest walking stick, ready to take her down.
"Careful," the woman spoke in a seductive, luring voice, "we wouldn't want to cause any trouble." She turned around, revealing baby Frodo nestled in her arms. She smirked, admitting to Frodo's parents, "He's lovely. So affectionate. I think I will be his godmother, if you'll have me be his godmother. What say you to that?"
Primula glared at her. "I think you should leave. Give me Frodo back."
"Frodo?" the hobbitess smiled, playing with her and Drogo. "Such a charming name. So lovely. Hmm…" she nuzzled her head against Frodo's chest, making his smile and laugh, "…I think I, being his godmother, could agree to that. What do you think, Drogo and Primula Baggins? How about I be Frodo's godmother?"
"You're the Seductress, aren't you?" Drogo asked, already entranced by her.
The woman nodded, confirming his worst nightmares. "Trained by the Phantom himself. The Phantom of the Opera. Erik is his name. I'm Neida. Surely, you've already heard of my reputation, but I most certainly would like to know Frodo's story… that is, if you'll have me be his godmother."
"You'll do no such thing!" Primula demanded, sternly. Neida was impressed with her, smirking at her in a most surprising way. Hate boiled in Primula's heart. It was clear she had enough as she lunged at her, attempting to snatch Frodo away from Neida.
"What's wrong, Prim?" Neida asked, still holding Frodo in her arms. "Don't you like me raising your son? Hmm… oh yes, I think he'll be a fine charmer to all the girls."
"Neida," Drogo said, drawing Neida's attention. It was in this moment that Primula took baby Frodo out of Neida's arms, holding him as best she could. It was then Frodo screamed in Primula's arms, leaving his mother protective of him.
Neida hissed at her. "Fine. That's the way you want it. Fine then. When eleven years pass, when Frodo is twelve years old, I will return to the Shire. I will return to Buckland. And your son… your son will be mine. Is that understood?" She looked at Drogo and Primula now, telling them fondly, "One day, you will see I am right."
"Get out! You're not welcomed here, even amongst us Bucklanders," Primula told Neida flat out.
Neida curled her lip in angst. She almost felt sorry for Primula. So, why then wasn't she ready to strike her with her words? Neida glanced away, not knowing what to do. Then it dawned on her as she faced Frodo and his parents again. She quickly told Drogo and Primula, flattered by their presence, "This isn't over, Primula. You too, Drogo. And you, Frodo." She approached Frodo now, resting her hand against his head. "We will speak again. In twelve years' time, we will meet again. Of this, I can assure you, you will see and you will join me."
Neida glanced up at Drogo and Primula, reminding them, "Now then, since you refuse to make me Frodo's godmother, then I'll be his spiritual one. But what does that mean? Well, we'll see. Won't we?" She laughed, disappearing into the shadows, leaving Drogo and Primula perplexed.
How was that? This chapter did get creepy, but I think I got the Seductress, Neida, right this time, as far as her character goes. And that took over a decade just to get this Prologue right, as I didn't go back to it until recently and rewrote it. Plus, we already knew this would happen in my fanfiction poem collection trilogy for the Blue Rose series, Ashes and Blue Roses.
So yeah, next chapter we're with Frodo when he's twelve years old, and yes Neida's going to appear in Chapter 1/2 for this fanfic. So, we'll see what happens. :)
Thanks for reading. More to come. :)
~Aria Breuer