Disclaimer: Original canon characters all belong to Mr. Tolkien. There are too many for me to list, but if you are a Lord of the Rings fan, you'll be familiar with them as they appear. Wild Child is alternate universe (AU) fiction, meaning it will not follow the original book/movie plot. Personally, I have found exploring the what-ifs opens the door to more possibilities and creativity. My creation and contribution to this story is Allie, her family and the wolves. However, as you read, everything and everyone will entwine together in a single story that will take you along an enjoyable ride.

Warning: There are touchy subjects such as child abuse, bullying, and violent fight scenes, but those themes are only small passages in the grand scheme of the story (at least so far, since I haven't finished the story yet). It will mostly be rated T.

Also, I'm starting a massive rewrite of the earlier chapters because let's face it; they can always be much better! I would like to thank and credit Jennyslaw for beta-reading this story. Thanks for enriching the background and the characters, and improving the overall writing. You're awesome!

Now that all that stuff's been said, let's begin!

WILD CHILD

by burningSunset

Now halt your minds

and listen to their cry

From Northern alters

formed of snow and ice,

Beneath celestial curtains

in their sky,

The wolves give evensong

of sacrifice.

~John Hubbard Bidwell~

Prologue

Frodo Baggins was ten years old when he first met Allie Brandybuck, though for the longest time he would not remember that moment to be their first meeting.

On that hot mid-summer evening, Frodo's father was carrying him on his back while Frodo rested his head against his shoulder. His mother walked beside them, one hand upon her husband's arm and the other carrying a basket of groceries. They kept a steady pace on their way toward Buck Hill.

Tired from playing in the fields all day, Frodo was now too sleepy to eat the apple clenched in his small hand. In a half-daze, he listened to his parents, Drogo and Primula, conversing quietly, their voices mingling with the buzzing bees and chirping cicadas on the side of the road and among the trees. The setting sun projected its last rays of warmth upon his head and back. Slumber edged ever closer while he counted his father's thumping steps upon the country road.

One. Two. One. Two.

Frodo's hand relaxed and the uneaten apple slid from his weak grasp. It made a hollow sound as it met the earth and rolled down the hill, an irregular ball of vibrant red coursing through the green. Primula whirled around to chase after it, but paused when a small foot intercepted the apple's course further down the sinewy road.

It was the foot of a young hobbit lass clad in a yellow shirt and brown trousers. She picked up the apple and eyed the two adults with their sleeping boy. She threw a cursory look behind her shoulder, paused for a second in hesitation, then made up her mind to walk up the hill to Drogo.

She looked up at him with a guarded look and gave back the apple on her outstretched hand.

Drogo flashed her a warm smile and offered his thanks.

Cracking open his eyes, Frodo managed to make out only a mass of curly blonde hair. Before he could take a better look, he felt the shape of the apple being reinserted into his hand.

"Be careful with it, son," his father said with a hearty laugh.

The lass lifted her face up, one hand raised to her forehead to shield her eyes from the rays of the setting sun. Her arm hid most her features from his sleepy-eyed view, but he smiled anyway.

"Hello," he said.

The hobbit lass attempted to get a look at his face as well, but the red glare of the setting sun obscured everything but his silhouette.

"Hello," she answered, and then she was gone, sprinting away toward the sound of galloping hooves and the creaking of a cart.