-Cursed by any other name-

Prologue

October 27 - Age of Men

It was dusk when six lone riders rode across the rugged terrain. Their speed was impeccable, mere shadows on the horizon. Their breath dissipating in the cold air, the harvest moon keeping watch in the distance; they were in hot pursuit strong and unwavering. The prey was weakening with every stride but still quick and agile like cat.

Suddenly the riders slowed their steeds. The leader walked his horse in a tight circle coming to a complete stop watching the lone figure still running in the distance.

"He is seeking sanctuary." a fellow rider stated joining his leader, glaring at the figure.

"He shall not have the satisfaction to enjoy it." the leader answered unsheathing his dagger, he glared at his prey.

"Stay here." he ordered to his friend before he kicked his horse into a gallop.

The figure heard the resounding pounding of hoofs gaining upon him. His breath hitched, burning in his chest, heart pounding, almost there, almost there! His feet landed on a boulder flinging himself in the air a silhouette against the darkening sky. The feeling of freedom was short lived, he felt something impale him square in the back. He hit the ground hard each breath was laced with agonizing pain, sharp pain. He heard the horse hoofs stop.

Out of the corner of his eye he saw the hunter high above him. The rider dismounted his steed squatting down beside the quivering prey.

"Tell me are you afraid of death?" the rider hissed out.

The figure managed to let out a strained laugh speaking in his native tongue. "Death? I fear nothing."

The rider's expression darkened snatching his prey by the hair of his head. "You will fear me and you will all fall to the ranks of men!" he spat.

The prey laughed, a deviant smirk on his fair face. The hunter snatched his dagger, twisting it hard before yanking it out, blood dripped from the smooth blade.

The quivering form stilled, as the ranger straightened, he spat on his prey before mounting his horse. He looked up at the towering trees before him knowing full well he would be heard.

"Know this you forest dwelling rats! You all will be hunted one by one until your corpses are strewn across this land! The days of the elves are numbered!" the rider yelled before turning his horse and galloping into the dark of night.

Several cloaked figures dropped from their perches, as light as feathers they ran out to their fallen kin. The leader knelt down turning over the prone form. The dieing elf let out a coughing fit blood rising from his mouth his blue eyes, though dim, knew the forlorn face looking down at him.

"Valar…forgive me…." those were the last words that were uttered from the blood stained lips.

The leader gently closed the eye lids of his friend. His heart broke for yet another loss; he picked the dead elf turning to the group that hung their heads saying a silent prayer.

"Come, my friends." the leader ordered through barely controlled grief.

The company turned and entered the forest knowing this death was to merely add to the dozens that had already fallen.

The Age of Men was proving to be one full of despair and blood shed.

OOO

The prancing pony was bustling with activity mostly of the illegal kind. A good part of the roaring crowd was a table smack dab in the middle it's occupants celebrating a hunt that had occurred earlier that night.

Thwack!

A dagger. still stained with the victim's blood, bit into the hard wood surface of the table.

"Gentlemen! tonight we honour the man who showed no fear. To take down the forest rat with swift justice… the blond ranger reached for his pint… "Raise your drink to a new age, to Rohan! To Strider!" the man bellowed.

The five men echoed the cheer. The brunette accepted it with open praise. The ranger stood up placing a hand on his comrade's shoulder.

"This night doesn't just belong to me. For the effort is to be shared by all… he raised his drink… "Too men!"

"Too men!" the group chorused proudly.

Strider took back his seat listening to the small company who immersed themselves into a conversation full of pride and there next expected hunt. Strider lit his pipe drawing along breath to let out a plume of smoke from his mouth tainting the air.

"You folk aren't allowed in here." a gruff voice said bringing the men to halt their discussion. Looking at the stout man behind them

The rangers burst out laughing, the blond ranger lounged back in his seat one arm draping behind his chair. He gave a cocky expression a mocking smile on his scarred face.

"Is that so?" the blond ranger threw out.

"You rangers have caused nothing but trouble in these parts. Pack up your things and go!" the man ordered a deviant glare on his round face.

"Well, gentlemen you heard him we should leave." the blond signalled to the red head and the black haired rangers across from him.

They gave a sly smile, getting up from their seats as if to obey. Only to grab the stranger by the scruff of his shirt and escorted him roughly to the door and tossed him out into the street.

The rangers laughed at the man's miss fortune joining their friends who also burst out laughing. All but Strider who rested his foot against the edge of the table a serious look on his ruggedly handsome face.

"Silent your tongues! We are rangers, not bullies. Keep your dignity and save your energy for the next hunt."

The rangers obeyed their leader, after a moment of silence the blond leaned forward.

"So what's our next move? Lithorien and Rivendell have already sworn their obedience. But these Mirkwood elves are not as willing to give up their territory so easily."

"Weakness is bound to everyone. We just have to coax it out and then make are move." Strider explained taking the pipe out of his mouth.

"That elf you killed was easily captured, being from Lothorien, it wasn't hard. However, these Mirkwood scum are sneaky devils how do you plan to catch one without getting caught yourself." the red head added.

Strider thought for a moment. "These elves, like all elves, are incompetent fools. We will overpower them before they even acknowledge our presence. Catch them off guard go after them when they are vulnerable. Attack them in the break of day. They would not expect it."

"Day time hunting? They'd see us from a mile away.' the black haired ranger stated; not comfortable with the idea.

"Have you boys ever thought of camouflage? Trust me, it will work, perhaps we will capture more than one. Think of the hunting opportunity then." Strider encouraged with sinful assurance.

The blond held up his drink. "I'll give you that Strider, you're not afraid to walk the fine line."

OOO

The forest was a lit with pale moon light. a regiment of elves stood together listening to their leader.

"Brethren, we must not despair. It's true we have lost many to the hands of the race of men; but we must not give in to their demands." the leader of the elves encouraged

The company were still mourning the great loss. Their faith dwindling every passing day.

"It's one thing to speak these words, but to act upon them is futile. Elves are not meant to engage in mindless battles, to shed blood where it be. Rivendell and Lothorien have abandoned us we have know one to turn to."

The leader jumped down from the fallen tree trunk where he stood.

"I do not doubt you Elrohir. You are quite right we were a peaceful kind for we had no reason to fight, but the age of men has dawned and they have shown us their malice and callousness… he looked at his fellow archers… "Will you just stand by and give up or raise are arrows in the name of our king. for all elf-kind?"

"But what can we do? The humans have siege of Rohan and Gondor, we are surrounded, Isngard is crippled and Moria well never offer us their allegiance" another elf said voicing the company's doubt of their leader's words.

"We do what we can to our full strength. My father has taken the women and children to seek sanctuary in Fangorn forest. The ents will watch over them… the blond elf knelt down bringing everyone's attention to it.

He started to draw with a twig… "Company one, your task is to watch our border from the dawn of day until the dark of night. Out line the forest but make sure they can't see you. I will take another company with me. we march out to the ranger's camp, take them before they realize what has come upon them. They are not far. we set out this night…. He looked up… "Any rejection to this plan?"

The elves once saddened expression was taken over by one of determination and aggression.

They straightened, Elrohir stepped forward. "We would follow you to our death Legolas. Your orders have not fallen on deaf ears. Now let us make haste."

The elf gave a solemn look gripping his brother on the shoulder as his brother did the same to him. The two companies parted.

Legolas, and his company of nine swiftly, and quietly, made their way over the lands. After traveling for two hours, he turned his head to the west to see a fire burning and around it sat the men they were searching for. They were at least two miles away.

" This way!" he called in elvish his kin turned west. Legolas's speed quickened, his feet barely touching the ground.

OOO

The rangers sat around the fire, the majority of them tipsy from their night of drinking. It was around two o'clock in the morning, the night cold. Two rangers sang obnoxiously along the lines of a man breaking a womens heart. Two slept, and the other passed out, while Strider kept watch.

The ranger sat up from his spot on the ground, stretching, he walked over to the small stream. A water fall in the back filling in the silence of the night. He squatted down, scooping his hands in the water he took a drink, then scooped again to wash his face.

He wiped the back of his hand on his forehead. He froze as he saw a refelction behind him he did not expect. The ranger slowly stood up, his body still, he slowly unsheathed his cleaned dagger. The blade catching the silver moon light. He let out a slow and quiet breath, his grip on his dagger tightening, he spun around metal clanged against metal!

The cloak figure and the ranger didn't move. Though the ranger did not see the figures face he could feel the cold angry glare upon him.

Strider titled his heard at the surprised yell of his comrades. His heart skipped a beat at the realization. The hunters had become the hunted.

OOO

New author. First Fic.