Fiction GotG Chapter 02

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 Two

Elrond stood at the head of the circle of chairs in his well-used council chamber. It was open air as elves preferred, but the company was of an entirely different caliber. He straightened his shoulders, the mantle of leadership folding about him familiarly. "Strangers from distant lands!" He began, eyeing them all carefully. "Friends of old. You have been summoned to answer the threat of Mordor," he hissed the name, an anathema to him. "Middle Earth stands upon the brink of destruction. None can escape it. You will unite, or you will fail. Each race is bound to this one fate, this one doom." He turned to the young Hobbit sitting next to Gandalf. "Bring forth the ring Frodo." The halfling looked around nervously, swallowing through a dry throat. He squirmed for a moment in his seat, then leaned forward. He stood slowly and tried not to notice the curious looks coming his way.

Elrond waited patiently, but was caught off guard when he heard the wind roar his name. True to his Elven nature, his face betrayed nothing. But he knew the call of the Gods when he heard it. Usually, it was a whispered warning, but this forceful demand struck the center of his being. He knew immediately that something momentous was to come.

Just as Frodo took his first step towards the pedestal, a large rumble burst through the sky. He glanced up, startled, as many others did. It was unexpected. It sounded like a storm beginning, but there was nothing but bits of white, wispy clouds floating along the breeze lazily. Large hands grasped his shoulder as a bolt of pure blue lightning struck at the flagged stone floor on the far side of the pedestal. All of the people present scrambled back wards from their seats, some swearing under their breath, others looking for the new threat upon them. Frodo was shoved behind Gandalf, the one who had pulled him out of harms way. He peered around anxiously. Another loud booming was heard and the group looked to the sky. The blue lightning spun and crackled in a large hazy ball of energy and after a moment began to contract. The wind picked up for a moment and then died completely.

Before the assembled throng could take a breath to begin their verbal wonderment of the phenomenon, they saw a figure hurtling through the sky at them. Weapons were drawn immediately as the figure landed beside the pedestal in the exact spot where the lightening had struck down. Strider, the Ranger went immediately to the figure huddled on the floor. He saw immediately that the figure was still, but alive. He glanced up to see one of the elves, a familiar face, looking down upon the figure as well. Trusting his friend to guard him, Strider sheathed his sword and turned the figure over. A collective gasp went up as the group realized that they had been prepared to attack a child. And a girl child at that.

Legolas, the Elf, took in the beautiful perfection that was before him. Rarely had he seen such beauty in the world of Man. To his Elven sensibilities, that race seemed to be built for sturdy, rugged purposes and their looks went accordingly with their nature. But the child before him, dressed much like his Ranger friend was beautiful in a way very foreign to him. Her tiny face held perfect features and was framed by an abundance of fiery red hair. Such hair that was so rare that even in all his years, Legolas had only heard about it. As Strider ran his hands over the girls head, checking for injury, Legolas was amazed to see her eyes snap open. Green eyes, like the shade of the trees he loved so dearly, were staring at him, clear and coherent. He gasped slightly as his soul sang out for her, recognizing her when his head did not.

She held his gaze for a moment, then turned her head to look at the man who was cradling her. Strider looked back and was stunned as a jolt of recognition trilled through him. He cast his mind to recall when he had met her before, but could not clearly remember. He looked up to his friend, to see the same wonderment on the Elf’s face. He promised himself that he would discuss this another time with the Elf and turned his attention back to the current matter at hand. "Are you well?" he asked softly. He was glad to see that she nodded.

"I must speak with Lord Elrond," she informed him. "Could you please help me stand?" Strider shifted back, not questioning her words. He knew that it was for more learned fellows to discern her purpose.

"Of course, my lady," he acquiesced. He shifted so that he was kneeling on one knee, the other ready to rise. He held out one hand that she gripped easily. Another hand was held out and Strider glanced up to see that Legolas had sheathed his daggers and was ready to help the girl as well. The girl smiled gently up at his Elven friend and took his hand as well. She rose gracefully to her feet, although a little unsteady. Legolas brought his other hand to the girl’s shoulder to steady her. Strider grimaced, recognizing the look in the others eye as Legolas beheld the girl. She was tiny, fragile looking, and if he read her right, very apprehensive about the situation. Enough to make his friend jump in with both feet. Purposefully, he turned to the lord of Rivendell.

"Lord Elrond," he called. The girl knew immediately whom the Ranger was addressing. The tall, dark headed man behind the two Elven warriors that were set before him as bodyguards. Elrond made a small motion and the two Elf warriors stepped aside obediently. Elrond stepped forward and looked down at the girl who had so invaded his home. She drew herself up regally and bowed her head in a strangely familiar gesture of respect. He smiled a little, feeling recognition flow through him, as it did everyone who looked upon the tiny girl. He barely noticed Gandalf move to his side. It was common knowledge that strange happenings piqued the old wizard’s curiosity like nothing else and brought forth his determination to uncover mysteries presented before him.

"I am Lord Elrond," the Elven leader spoke unnecessarily. The girl looked back up, meeting his eyes easily for one so much shorter.

"My Lord Elrond," she greeted. "I come bearing a message from the Valar." There was a stunned gasp from those in the group that heard her words, referring to the Elven Gods. Elrond however was calm. After hearing them call his name, he had been prepared for something to happen. A mysterious girl falling into his council chamber hadn’t been it, but he knew better than to question the Valar’s mysterious ways.

"And what message would that be?" he asked simply, noting that the girl had focused all her purpose and attention on him. She smiled softly.

"My Lord," she began, "they want you to know that they have heard you mourn. And so, to help in this quest, they have consented to send you a warrior of the light." Elrond nodded, knowing instinctively her words to be true. Gandalf coughed slightly, drawing their attention.

"And just whom might this warrior be?" he demanded of the girl.

"Me," she answered pertly. The small group ignored the protests and outrage of the others around them. Elrond and Gandalf eyed her carefully. They had both learned in their long years that it was futile to rail against the will of the Gods and so accepted this, for the time being. Elrond sighed as the heated words of the assembled group filtered to his ears. He held up his hand and they quieted slowly.

"Friends, I believe that it would be prudent of us if we were to reconvene the council tomorrow," he announced. "There is more afoot here than we know. Gandalf and I must be allowed time to ascertain some things before we talk again." With grumbles and protests, the group began to make their way from the council room. Elrond waited until the only ones left were himself, Gandalf, Strider, Legolas and the girl. He turned back to her, prepared to offer hospitality to this enigma, when he saw her sway on her feet. "Child?"

"My apologies, my lord," she whispered, drawing a trembling hand over her eyes. "The journey here was…" she glanced up at the sky, where she had come from, "…most disturbing. I think I’m going to faint." That was all the warning they received as her eyes rolled back into her head and she lost consciousness. Legolas caught her quickly, having been prepared for such an action.

The Elf swept her up in his arms, cradling her gently, as if she were his most treasured possession. Elrond took this in, his mind registering the look on Legolas’ face. "Bring her this way. We will let her rest and recover." Legolas nodded and followed the Lord of Rivendell, careful not to jostle the girl.

Gandalf hesitated a moment, as did Strider. "This is interesting, very interesting," the old wizard grunted. Strider gave him a look full of mirth.

"Indeed it is, old friend," he clapped a friendly hand on the wizard’s shoulder and the pair followed after the elves.

Chapter Three