Fiction GotG Chapter 01

Title: Gamble Of The Gods

Author: Restive Nature

Disclaimer: I do not own the rights to either J.R.R. Tolkien’s "Lord of the Rings" universe, nor David and Leigh Edding’s "Belgariad".

Rating: PG

Genre: Crossover of LotR and The Belgariad

Type: WiP

Timeline: LotR- The beginning of the Fellowship (follows the movies mostly.)

The Belgariad- post books. Beldaran is a young woman now, about seventeen now.

Summary: In an effort to encourage the Fellowship, help is brought into the world in the form of a young woman whose world has already seen the end of its own war.

Chapter One

The young redheaded girl slipped into the solitary figure’s chamber. Her green eyes sparkled as she pulled herself up to her impressive five foot, five inch stature. Well, it was impressive in her family. Her own mother didn’t even top five feet. She held her breath as she waited for her friend to notice her arrival. He was much older than she was, but there was a boyish, innocent air about him. The girl watched him watching something unfold in his pool. She quickly amended that thought. After many years of having it explained to her, she knew that the water was more in the nature of a mirror, or window to various things. But every once in a while, she played dumb just to see how long it would take before her friend threw his hands up in despair. And the best part was that she knew he knew what she was doing and let her get away with it. Just because he loved her so much.

Well, everyone, actually. Not that everyone loved her. No, her tall, sweetly handsome friend loved everyone else. Whether he knew them or not. It was a gift, his destiny to love. Finally, the girl broke out of her reverie to see that without looking up from the pool, her friend had stretched out his hand. He beckoned her to join him and she slipped easily to his side. She grinned up at his serious countenance.

"What are we watching?" she asked in her light tinkling voice. Anyone that knew her could tell immediately when she was in a good mood by her voice. When she was happy, it sounded like the rush of a brook playing melody over the rocks it slowly shaped. When she was angry, her voice grew shrill. And the older she got, the more she sounded like her mother. Not that that was a bad thing, as the girl loved her mother very much. But, oh, when she was hurting. That sound tore the heart more than the shrill screams ever could. The girl peered down at the water as she waited for the answer she knew was forthcoming. It didn’t matter how long it took. She knew her friend would answer when he was good and ready.

"Hello little one," he greeted. He glanced up quickly at her, then back at the pool. She could see that things were moving rapidly and caught only hints of what was going on. It seemed as if a bunch of little people were having a party. So she waited still for an answer. Over the years, she’d learned to temper her impatience by contact with more even-tempered people than flighty ones. Of course, her mother could be the flightiest the girl knew and that was saying a lot. But finally, he mumbled, "‘tis middle earth."

"One of ours?" the girl asked.

"In contention at the moment," he grunted. The girl nodded, understanding perfectly the point he was making. She took a deep breath and focused her attention solely on the events before her. One of the little people climbed on a barrel and proceeded to make a speech, to which great cheers resounded. And eventually tapered off. The girl could see the little man fiddling with something behind his back. Her friend gestured quickly to another part of the pool. The girl saw that he had indicated the old, gray man, smoking furiously on his pipe, that more than they were aware of the little man’s nervousness.

The girl gave a gasp as the little man suddenly disappeared. She peered harder and realized that she could make out a faint line. She followed it and was rewarded to see the line reappear as the little man, now inside some sort of home. She glanced up at her companion. "That was not good, was it?"

"No," he murmured sadly, shaking his head. "It wasn’t." The girl simply nodded and turned back to the pool, careful not to disturb the water. They watched as the old gray man confronted the little one. A younger person appeared after the one called Bilbo departed. The girl frowned, as events seemed to speed up until they were blurring past them. She gasped when she saw nine riders in black burst forth from behind a large gate. They radiated evil and the stench of it even rose through the mirror. Both the man and girl curled their lips back in distaste of it.

The motion slowed as they continued to watch. The girl was slightly dizzy from the frenzy, but her friend was not affected. Soon, they were back to the little one, a hobbit; she’d managed to pick up. They watched as the gray man panicked in Frodo’s home, his distress radiating to Frodo. The girl finally caught the gray one’s name, Gandalf. Soon enough, Frodo and his companion seemed set on the same course as Bilbo had previously. Gandalf went with them briefly, to set them on the course before he turned his attention elsewhere. Curious, the girl watched Gandalf race towards a large, black tower. Normally she liked towers, as they brought a pervading sense of the loved ones she had that dwelled in them. But this tower left her with a cold, empty, roiling feeling in the pit of her stomach.

A tall man in white robes made his way down the steps as Gandalf greeted him. They walked momentarily, and then retired to the tower. They both heard the wizards discuss the object that Frodo carried, although Gandalf gave no name to the other. When the girl however heard the white robe, Saruman derisively tell Gandalf that he was too late, she gasped. She glared up at her friend accusingly.

"Is that true?" she demanded. "Is it too late?" To her surprise, her easygoing friend blushed slightly.

"Yes," he sighed. "Yes it is."

"How come?" she ground her teeth together. She was a determined young lady, and right now she wanted to understand.

"Look little one," the man tilted his head and graced her with his charming smile. "I do have other things to attend to."

"Couldn’t you multi-task?" the girl grinned. Her companion was startled for a moment, then recalled what she was referring to.

"Remind me to never send you to that world again," he grimaced slightly. "They definitely had a bad influence on you."

"I like that place," she giggled. "So many conveniences, and a law that states women must be treated equally. Well, at least in most places."

"But you did notice that for all those modern miracles, the people were still as vicious, if not more, than the other worlds?" he quietly stated question caught at her. She simply nodded both of them seeing the truth of the matter.

The girl finally turned her attention back to the water, seeing now, that two more little ones had joined Frodo. "So how are we going to handle this? Do we just leave them alone?" Her companion rubbed at his chin thoughtfully.

"I suppose I could send you as you are now," he muttered. The girl shook her head in surprise.

"Is that wise?" she was slightly suspicious. She hadn’t known that he could do that.

"Perhaps not, but the evil that has been steadily rising in this world is too great to ignore," her tall friend grimaced. He looked back to her, considering his options. "If I do send you, you will be exactly as you are now." He warned again. The girl nodded, not taking in the full impact of his words. He would have said more, but the battling wizards caught his attention. He muttered under his breath, knowing that it would not end well. They were silent as the Hobbits came into view again, trying to flee some of the evil black riders. The girl cheered them on softly, empathizing with them completely. In her own life, she’d been in their shoes, although from what she could see, they didn’t seem to be wearing any. The pair was both minorly relieved when they made it to a small village. There more bad luck seemed to stalk them and the object that they tried so hard to reveal was let loose again. The man noticed with wry amusement that his young friend’s eye was caught by the man that roughly yanked Frodo away from the scene the Hobbit had created.

"Caught you, hasn’t he?" the man teased. The girl shot him a frustrated look. Men were still a slightly taboo subject for her, at least around her parents they were.

"He’s handsome, I suppose," she muttered. "But there’s something else about him." She paused; gazing thoughtfully at the scene of the little Hobbits coming to their friends supposed rescue. "Who is he?"

"That, my dear, is Strider."

The girl sighed. "That tells me nothing. What is he?"

"He is a Man," the tall man grinned down at her. "A Ranger of this world." The girl glanced up at him, her green eyes snapping, warning him silently to stop toying with her. "He is Aragorn."

"He is important, then?"

"Very." They were silent again as they watched the trap the black riders fell for and the Hobbits and Ranger escape into the wild.

"Well, if I’m going to go, what will I need to do?" the girl asked.

"Just be you," the man quipped. He grinned widely as the redhead gave him a light shove in the shoulder. "No, little one, I am serious. You’re fighting skills will be called upon, to be sure. But more than anything, these people will need your unfailing sense of purpose. The burden they carry is an onerous one."

"Chaos," she whispered. She shuddered slightly and her friend wrapped a protective arm around her slight frame.

"Indeed," he agreed. "You will help them fight the chaos overwhelming their souls." He waited barely a heartbeat before asking, "will you go?"

The tiny girl stared down a moment at the mirror as the black riders finally caught up with the Hobbits at a broken, crumbling tower. She could feel the terror emanating off them. Her decision was made for her. She didn’t need to think this through. All she knew was that it was not in her nature to stand by idly while others suffered. "I’ll go."

Before the man could reply, they were shocked to see one of the black riders stab young Frodo in the shoulder. They both tensed and let out sighs of relief as Strider reappeared and drove the riders off. "Go now," the man growled. "Prepare at once." The girl nodded sharply, dared a peck on her friend’s cheek and then raced from the chamber. The young man never turned his head from the pool. If anything, he got as close as he could. He blew softly on the water’s surface. "Quickly, quickly," he muttered.

In the surface of the pool, he could see Strider reaching out with his senses and knew the Ranger could feel what the young man was conveying to him. He grabbed up the Hobbit and they began their race to Rivendell. The young man’s eyes flickered to another part of the pool and he was glad to see that a young maiden atop a beautiful white horse had caught the premonition as well. She spurred her horse forward, knowing only that she had to find her quarry with all speed. The young man smiled softly as the young maiden found Strider. He knew that this one, being an Elf, would be better prepared to help the young Hobbit. His faith in her was rewarded as she selflessly took it upon herself to race ahead of the riders, Frodo in her arms.

The young man relaxed a little, watching the dark ride. Occasionally, his breath would blow across the water, lending his aide as the she-Elf’s horse faltered or tired. And always, with renewed vigor, the horse carried on, until they finally reached the river that was border to the Elf’s people. She crossed purposefully, then turned back to confront the black riders. There was a moment and then the young man heard what he was waiting for. The She-Elf called upon the power of her people, asking the water of their river to defend her. The young man idly flicked the water and grinned in amusement as the water drew back in the river where the black riders were.

The river reared back and then came at the evil incarnate riders with a vengeance. The man felt a familiar presence in the head of the water and his grin was wider as he saw the formation of the white cap horses. The black riders were swept under the assault. But the grin faded as he watched the She-Elf lower the fading Hobbit to the ground. She sent up another prayer that was answered before young Elf even finished.

The young man settled his hands quickly on the surface of the water as he whispered to the crying She-Elf. "Fly little one. All speed now. I will carry you." The She-Elf nodded. She was so attuned to nature and the things she heard, that she did not question another voice now. She gathered Frodo and climbed on her horse again. The young man kept his hands on the water for her entire trip. Finally, the pair reached the Elven home of Rivendell. The She-Elf raced with her precious burden, refusing to allow anyone else to relieve her. Her father was waiting for her. With determination, the Elven ruler laid his hands on the Hobbit. The young man responded immediately, thrusting his hands deeply into the water.

He heard the chamber door open and shut rapidly and his young friend appeared at his side. The young man waited a moment to be sure then carefully withdrew his hands from the pool. Frodo would live. The girl glanced into the pool, a small gasp escaping from her as she took in the scene.

"He is marked," the man muttered. "If you are to go, it must be now." The girl nodded. The young man gave her a winning smile. "But before that, I have something for you." He moved to another room and swiftly returned, carrying a large package. The girl held her breath, almost recognizing the package her friend carried. He stopped before her and held it out to her. Her hand hovered over it, not quite able to bring herself to touch such an important piece of her history.

"Is it…?" She glanced up at him, unable to ask.

"It is," he nodded. "Go ahead, take it." A brilliant smile was across her face, only to be replaced by a serious frown.

"But won’t it…?" she grimaced and waved her little hands around for a moment, unable to convey what she was afraid might happen. The young man rolled his eyes and chuckled.

"No, it won’t," he assured her. "After all, you are your father’s daughter." He paused for a moment, unable to resist teasing her. "Or maybe I should be worried. We all know how he turned out, after all." The girl chuckled as well. With a beatific smile, she took the package and unwrapped the gift from the blanket it had been bound in.

"Hello, old friend," she whispered, then reverently strapped the sword to her back. She turned back to the pool for a moment as her friend began to open the portal he so rarely used. She swept a hand towards the water, knowing better than to touch it. But she did allow her senses to reach out as people of all races began to gather. She knew that they would feel her, would respond well to her if she took this little step. "Oh, how they need me," she smiled sadly.

The young man glanced back at his dear friend and smiled sadly as well. There was more going on there than he could tell her. But he hoped she would figure it out and not fight his will, as some were wont to do. "Not as much as I hope you will need him, and he you," he murmured, too low for the girl to hear. Hearing the crackle of energy that the portal gave off, the girl turned to him.

"I’m ready," she grinned, her excitement of the new adventure at her feet catching her up. The young man reached out his hand and she eagerly took it. He hugged her gently, and while in his embrace, he pressed a soft kiss to her brow. She was not surprised by the small cackle of energy that flowed into her mind. They had done this often enough before to know that he was implanting certain knowledge in her mind, for later use. He drew back when done.

"Remember," he warned, allowing his voice to sweep over to the pool as well, " give the message to Elrond." The girl nodded and with a deep breath, she jumped.

Chapter Two