Through Time and Space
Summery: Crossover of LOTR, Harry Potter, "The Ring". Esther and Justin are transported through different fantasy worlds as Samara pursues them. First stop: Mirkwood, then on to Rivendell as the Fellowship sets off. Samara is still out there somewhere...
AN: This begins just with "The Ring" and LOTR. Harry will turn up later. :) If anyone has trouble with the Elvish bits, just let me know. This being my first crack at this, please review! Emails are welcome.
It was about 12:30 at night. Justin and I had just gotten back from the movies . . . again. We always went to the movies together: action, comedy, adventure, fantasy, romance – anything worked. We just loved the movies. I myself was a little skittish when it came to horror; Justin, on the other hand, loved it. He never got scared because he knew that it was all "just a movie." That phrase never comforted me; my imagination was just too big. I think it was because I always felt that, in some obscure, intangible way, it could all be real. One night he convinced me to see The Ring – big mistake. I couldn't sleep properly for a month afterwards. Of course, Justin's incessant teasing may have prolonged my after-shock somewhat. But that was all behind us now. Or so I thought . . .
Justin opened the door to my building for me.
"Thanks," I said, "Are you coming in tonight?"
"Nah," he said, following me inside, "I'll walk you to your door, but I can't stay. I have an early morning tomorrow." We chattered absently as we walked to my door. I fitted the key in the lock and turned it. I opened the door, poked my head inside, then immediately ducked back out and slammed it shut again.
"What?" asked Justin, "What is it?" I was backed up against the wall next to my door, my hand covering my mouth, trembling all over. That was when I noticed the water: it was covering the floor in a thin layer, leaking out from under the crack below my door.
"Please tell me I'm hallucinating," I whispered, lowering my hand. Justin sighed heavily and rolled his eyes, finally guessing the cause of my sudden terror.
"I can't believe this," he muttered, "How many times do I have to tell you: it's just a movie."
"Then look inside and tell me it's not real," I said, "Then I'll go in."
"Fine," he said, opening the door again. I watched his face change; his eyes widened, the color drained from his cheeks. I knew what it was he was seeing, because I'd seen her too in that split second when I'd opened the door: a little girl, no older than twelve or thirteen in appearance, but ancient in spirit. She wore a white dress, maybe a nightgown, that was stained with mildew and something else, rotten. She sat in the middle of the floor on a plain wooden chair, and the puddle of water spread out from underneath her. Her long, dark hair hung in front of her face like a thick, black veil, hiding her features.
Justin slowly backed away from the door. He caught my eye silently, his own eyes reflecting something between disbelief and pure terror.
"Justin?" I squeaked.
"Let's go!" he said, grabbing my arm and dragging me along the hallway the way we had come in. I followed him blindly; I couldn't feel the ground under me and the air seemed to rumble. Then we were outside. Both Justin and I ran of our own accord now, afraid to look back. I could feel her behind us, taking her time to catch us, relishing our fear. I saw Justin heading for the woods behind my building. We'd get lost for sure if we went in there.
"Justin, wait!" I called, struggling to keep up with him.
"Is she still following us?" he asked, turning his head slightly.
"I don't know! I'm not turning around to check."
"Me neither, c'mon!" He slowed down enough to grab my hand and pulled me into the woods with him. I felt the little girl's presence diminish, although she didn't entirely disappear. She was watching us, but something was holding her back, keeping her at bay for the time being.
"Esther?" Justin turned towards me, his eyes wide with fearful uncertainty. I didn't understand; I followed his gaze past me, deep into the darkness of the trees. We weren't in the same forest anymore: the wood was strange, dark and different, but somehow vaguely familiar.
"I know this place," I heard myself say. Justin looked at me questioningly.
"Where are we?" he asked.
"Mirkwood."
I was surprised that I actually knew the answer. Then came the sound of horse hooves clamouring towards us in the darkness. I peered through the dense foliage and saw the horses, tall and fair, bearing a small band of Wood Elves. At the front of the company was light-haired Elf with bright, sea-hued eyes, clad in green and brown. It can't be, I thought, I don't believe it!
"Esther," said Justin, "Is that who I think it is?"
The Elf spotted us. He slowed his company with a simple gesture of his hand, dismounted, and walked towards us, studying me carefully with his pale, kind eyes. I walked closer to him, feeling strangely safe in his presence.
"Mae govannen, Legolas Thranduilion," I greeted him. He smiled, and gave a short bow.
"I see I am known to you," he said in a soft, unhurried voice, clear and regal, "Who are you?"
"My name is Esther, and this is my friend Justin. We've lost our way."
Legolas nodded solemnly.
"The paths of these woods have grown dark of late," he said, "Especially for those who do not know them. Tell me, what is your destination?"
I glanced uncertainly at Justin; he looked even more lost than I felt. So I decided to just tell him the truth.
"We have none," I said finally, "It wasn't our choice to come here. We aren't so much making our way towards a destination as running from . . . something else."
His shining eyes darkened.
"Some great evil pursues you," he said, reading my thoughts, "An unknown enemy stalks your path."
"She followed us?" Justin asked fearfully, reaching out for me.
"Yes," said Legolas, turning his gaze to the thickly growing treetops, "She is very close, watching us, listening to every word we say."
One of his companions edged closer, fearful uncertainty clouding his fair Elven face.
"What is the new evil you speak of?" he asked.
Legolas didn't answer, but looked back at me expectantly.
"Samara," I said; a cold shudder rippled through the air at the sound of her name. I drew back, grabbing Justin by the shoulder, watching the dark wood carefully; I half-expected her to appear from the shadows and come for us. The Elves held their ground steadily. Mirkwood, I remembered, was riddled with strange and evil creatures and enchantments; they probably feared little, having dwelt there all their long lives.
Legolas turned back to me.
"She will follow you," he said, "Through time and space, until one of you is utterly destroyed. If you come with me, you will be endangering all those in my company. But if you remain here alone, unguarded . . ."
I felt my heart grow cold with fear again; he wouldn't leave us there to die, would he? He moved closer to me, his soft blue eyes searching mine quietly, and I felt him reading my thoughts. It was strange: I felt my soul laid bare before him, but I wasn't afraid. His gaze was penetrating, but not intrusive. It was as if he was gently asking what my motivations were, and I simply let him see into my mind. Then he moved away from me and said something in Sindarin to one of his companions, a slender Elf with dark, chestnut hair. The dark-haired Elf came forward on his horse.
"We are on the path towards Rivendell," said Legolas, "You may ride with us, but I cannot guarantee your safety until we reach Lord Elrond. He will be better able to protect you than I. Come," he held out his hand to me. I reached out and took it tentatively; he lifted me onto the back of his horse and then climbed up in front of me. I glanced over and saw that the dark-haired Elf was helping Justin onto the back of his own horse. Legolas leaned forward, said something to his horse, and then we were off. I silently wished, not for the first time, that I was more familiar with the Sindarin language.
I had to hold tight to Legolas' waist to stay on the horse. Although, looking back on it, I'm sure that both he and the horse would have made sure I didn't fall. After adjusting to the sheer strangeness of the situation Justin and I had stumbled into, I began looking around at the woods.
We're really here, I realized, We're in Middle Earth. Who would've guessed? And we're going to see Rivendell of all places! I wonder how long it will take to get there . . .
I glanced behind us at Justin; he was taking in our surroundings too. We had both read Tolkien's entire Lord of the Rings trilogy, so we knew very well where we were. I wondered what the date was. Were we still in the Third Age? Had the War of the Ring begun already? And if so, just how far along were we? The only thing I knew for sure was that we were riding swiftly along the Elf Path of Mirkwood Forest, heading west towards Rivendell. I tried to remember the map in my head; I knew that Mirkwood was east of the River Anduin and the Misty Mountains, but I couldn't remember how far. For that matter, I had no idea just how deep inside Mirkwood we were.
I wondered vaguely what time of the day it was. It had already been pitch dark when the Elves had found us. At first I had thought it strange that they would be traveling so late into the night, but then I remembered that Elves didn't need to sleep: they could rest with their eyes open and continue their journey without stopping, if need be. And then I wondered if they would stop for Justin and me. We were only human ourselves; they would realize that, wouldn't they? That was the last thought that went through my head before consciousness left me.