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A New Fellowship

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This story is No. 1 in the series "A New Fellowship". You may wish to read the series introduction first.

Summary: Four strangers appear in Middle Earth, and a certain elf has nothing better to do... Set after the LotR.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Lord of the Rings > General > Theme: Post FellowshipslytherinwithwingsFR1311,1950122,71713 Aug 0713 Aug 07Yes
I do not own the residents of Middle Earth or the Hellmouth. I'm just following the bunnies whereever they lead.

Not since the days of the Fellowship had he seen such a troop of companions. When the others of his kin went over the sea, he had stayed behind, though unsure why the thought of leaving was so abhorrent to him. Then he saw the air itself tear and these… people… appear where previously there had been none. He’d been following them for five days. They were fascinating. Their tongue sounded similar to the tongue of Gondor’s men, but different enough so as to be difficult for him to follow. So he watched.

They were all warriors, but not like any he’d ever met. One of the women had hair the color of flames and could connect to the earth and draw power from it. She was physically the weakest of this group, yet her power was great. He felt it calling to him.

The other female was smaller but moved like a panther. Her honey brown hair and large blue eyes gave her a sweet appearance, but if he looked close, there was the awareness of danger, the wariness of a warrior. Her bare arms were well toned like a shield maiden’s.

The taller of the males reminded him greatly of Aragorn with is wild dark brown hair and calm eye. Not eyes for he only had one, but he clearly did not let his injury handicap him. He was well muscled and armed with an axe that put Gimli to mind. Thus far, he’d used it only for cut wood for the fire each night, but he was quick to sharpen it once that chore was done. The others looked to this one to lead.

The final man was like no one he’d ever seen. He was taller than a dwarf, but shorter than many human males, and his hair was the green of spring grass as were his eyes. Some type of forest sprite? But no, elves were well acquainted with forest dwellers and this one was unfamiliar. The green-haired man had nearly spotted him several times, though how he did not know. Suddenly that green hair would shoot up, and the man would stare in his direction with confusion on his face. Then it would pass, but the man would remain wary for many minutes after.

All in all, a fascinating bunch. He settled in to watch them break camp for the night. He did not know what he hoped to accomplish by following them, but they were interesting and he had no other obligations. His kin were gone from Middle Earth, his friends were living out their lives with their own kind. He knew he would be welcome with Aragorn or even Gimli or the Hobbits, Merry and Pippin, but he did not wish to face the sorrow that their eyes held when they looked at him, or the questions. Why? Why did you know leave? Why did you stay only to wander aimlessly? A sharp crack broke his thoughts.

The group that he’d been watching were being attack! How had he gotten so lost in his own mind? Though Sauron was long defeated, the yrch still roamed the wilds, occasionally raiding human settlements. Now the misbegotten creatures were attacking his new fascination. They couldn’t have them! Quickly, his bows was pulled and drawn, an orc sighted and felled. He looked about for each of the four. The tall man and brown-haired woman were fighting close quarters with a style he’d never seen, but that seemed to work well. The yrch were piling up around them. The red-haired woman…was no longer red haired. Her hair had become completely white and her eyes completely black. With casual gestures and whispered words, her attackers were flung away from her or caught on fire. He readied his bow to take down an yrch that was getting close to her when a large form barreled into it from the side. Like some mating of man and worg, the creature ripped into any yrch that broke through the defenses. He shook himself. Clearly the beast was a friend of the witch. He looked for the green-haired man, but he was no where to be seen. Gritting his teeth, he shot down as many yrch as he could.

Finally, there was that terrible calm that came after a battle. Each of the humans and the beast were cut and bruised, but the creature had taken the worse of it. Two orc arrows stuck from its side. While the women tended it, the man looked at the bodies of the dead. Spying elf arrows protruding from the smelly corpses of the dead, he seemed to question his companions. They ignored him, but the creature did not. It strained and…shrank. It’s fur vanished into it’s skin and it’s form twisted until in it’s place lay the bloodied form of the green-haired man. The elf nearly fell from his tree. A form-changer! But that was no form he’d seen before. Nevertheless, his wounds were deep, and not of the sort that could go without proper tending.

Making an abrupt decision, he ran along the branches until he reached a clearing near to their camp. Landing lightly, he was surprised to see the dark haired man whirl about immediately, axe drawn. Clearly, his hearing was better than the average human’s. Wondering if he was about to be attacking, the elf held out his hands to show they were empty, the universal gesture for, well, if not friend, at least not enemy.

“Legolas,” he said, pointing to himself. Then he pointed to the green-haired man. “I can help.” The man seemed to relax but it was the injured ones reaction that surprised him the most. He smiled at Legolas and spoke calmly to his friends. There was a rapid exchange in their strange dialect, but finally he was motioned forward.

“Oz,” the worg-man said, pointing to himself, then to each of his companions. “Xander, Dawn, Willow.”

Legolas nodded to each of them in turn, glad they accepted that he was no threat, though “Xander” didn’t look completely convinced. He moved to kneel beside Oz and slowly reached into his pack for healing herbs. He kept his movements smooth and easily predictable. At the sight of the herbs, the witch let go the last of her tension. She spoke to Xander, his look changing from wariness to hope. Legolas stopped paying attention to them after that. Oz needed all his focus, though he seemed very alert, even in his pain. Brilliant green eyes followed his every move, not with mistrust, just interest. That heartened the elf. Perhaps they would permit him to travel with them, rather than follow behind. It would be nice to belong again.

A/N: I don't have current plans to take this further, but if enough people tell me to, I might just put it on my list of things to do, and maybe, just maybe, I'll tell everyone how your friendly neighborhood Scoobies ended up in Middle Earth.

The End

You have reached the end of "A New Fellowship". This story is complete.

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