Lord Of The Rings Fan Fiction ❯ Crazy Archers Invade Middle Earth ❯ Our Story Begins ( Chapter 1 )

DISCLAIMERS: I do not own LOTR or New Line Cinemas, and I do not own any of the character names, places names, etc. Any similarities between these characters and real people (except the people it is about who have full knowledge of it) are completely imagined. Merry and/or Aragorn lovers should take the warning that we make fun of them a bit, but that in reality we love their characters.

PLEASE NOTE: This is not supposed to be serious in any way, shape, or form. I love LOTR, the books AND the movies, and this is NOT supposed to be an accurate representation of Tolkien's or Peter Jackson's work. It's supposed to be a joke! Thank you!

 

CH. 1: Our Story Begins

 

Small hobbit children gathered around the old armchair, in which an old gaffer sat smiling. “Tell us a story, tell us a story!” the children begged.

 

“Alright, which will it be?” asked the old hobbit, leaning back in the chair.

 

The children fell silent, thinking it over. A very small hobbit girl burst out, “What about the one with the two archers?”

 

“Yes, yes, the archers!” chorused the rest.

 

“Ahh...the tale of the Two Mystical Archers, eh?” sighed the gaffer. The children grinned and nodded, and sat down on the rug in front of the chair in a ring. The small one who suggested the story crawled into the old one's lap, and leaned against his shoulder.

 

“Well, now, where should I begin...well I suppose the beginning would be best,” said the old hobbit thoughtfully. “You know, this is an old story, written in the history books of Middle Earth.” The children nodded, impatient for the story to start. The gaffer took a deep breath and began to tell the tale. “In Middle Earth, a long time ago in winter, there was a stranger on a beautiful horse...”

 

--- --- --- ---

 

It was late winter in Eastern Rohan. The skies, though now icy blue, were slowly covering up with stormy, black clouds. Horse's hooves could be heard in the distance, beating against the frozen grass, growing louder and louder.

 

A pure white horse, its silver mane flowing in the wind, came galloping over a hill. Sitting atop the horse was a cloaked, hooded figure. It shifted the bow on its side to across the quiver on its back, and tilted its head skyward. The forest-green hood resting on its head fell back.

 

Light brown hair whipped around the maiden's face as she gazed at the cloudy sky. Worry grew on her face, and she began to scan the surrounding area. The horse pawed the ground as small, white flakes fell from the now solid grey sky. The girl spotted a small, sheltered grove of trees, and grinned with relief. She pushed her hair behind her ears, which were slightly pointed like an elf's, pulled the hood back over her head, then urged the horse forward and into the trees.

 

Once in the small shelter, she drew the hood back again gratefully. It was getting dark with the storm, which now raged just outside the trees, and it was even darker under the cover of the branches above.

 

She leaped lightly from the horse's back and smoothed the hair where she had been sitting, for there was no saddle. She lifted the bow off her shoulders and let it drop to the ground as she slid heavily to her knees.

 

With one swipe of her hand she pushed the cloak aside and reached into a small pouch hanging at her side. Moments later, she removed a dark orb, not much bigger than her fist. She whispered words that were drowned out by the storm, and the orb in her hands suddenly glowed. A small flame floated inside it.

 

For a moment, she just sat shivering with the orb in her hands, slowly warming herself with its heat. When she had regained feeling in her fingers again, she lowered the orb carefully onto some brush on the ground and reached again into the little pouch. This time, she withdrew a folded piece of paper and some bread wrapped in a dark green leaf.

 

She unfolded the paper, which turned out to be a map, onto her knees and took a bite of the bread. Light brown eyes glinting in the light of the orb, she traced the map with her finger as she slowly chewed. Suddenly, she slapped her knee with her hand and stared angrily at the map.

 

“I can't believe this!” she burst out. “I just don't believe it!” She looked up at the horse, which was looking at her curiously with brown-black eyes. “We teleported 100 miles off where we should have. 100 miles!” She got up and paced in front of the orb.

 

“This means that, one, we have to really hurry tomorrow if we are going to catch them; two, we have to hurry even more if we're going to meet Gilraen at her teleportation point, and three,” She ticked them off on her fingers. “I don't have the right map!” She plopped back down on the damp ground and proceeded to whack herself on the head with the map. The horse (whom she had been speaking to) simply flicked his long silver tail and began to eat some grass.

 

“And...you don't care...” She ran her fingers through her hair in frustration. “Well, we might as well get some sleep. Long day tomorrow.”

 

As she spoke, the horse lowered himself to the ground next to her. She rested her head on the horse's side, using it as a pillow. As an afterthought, she slipped the now dark orb back into her pouch along with the map. As the darkness became total, the only sounds heard were the howling storm and the sound of both horse and rider dead to the world.

 

--- --- --- ---

 

Before the sun even rose the next morning, the elf-like girl was off, her horse galloping beneath her. The snow had stopped, and a thick blanket lay on the ground beside the forest where they rode. The elf would, every so often, gaze around, searching carefully for something.

 

Finally, she pulled the map out again at high noon and traced a route with her finger. She looked up suddenly, grinning, and steered the horse into the trees. They reached the edge of a small clearing, and the girl dismounted lightly. Making sure she was on the edge of the clearing, she gazed up at the sun. Nodding slightly, she shifted her eyes to the center of the area.

 

“Six...five...four...” she counted slowly under her breath. As she counted three, a bright light glowed in front of her. Her horse nervously pawed the ground as she counted “Three-two-one!” very fast. A large, blue-black oval had formed in the center with a white glow around it. A sudden flash blinded the tall girl for a few seconds, and she lifted her hand to shield her eyes. When she lowered it, she was no longer alone.

 

A girl stood in the middle of the clearing, gripping the reigns of a pony. Her short, black-brown hair was pushed behind her ears, which were slightly pointed. She looked very similar to an elf. The girl with the horse strode forward eagerly, grinning as she knelt to hug the new arrival. She had to kneel, as the second girl was only as tall as her elbow.

 

“Gilraen!” she cried happily, gripping the other in a tight bear hug.

 

“Nice to see you too, Alatriel,” choked Gilraen, and hugged her back.

 

“I told you I'd be here!” said Alatriel, finally releasing her.

 

“Wait a sec...” Gilraen looked around with a confused look. “This isn't Canada!”

 

“No...it's not...why would it be?”

 

“You said we were going to Canada!”

 

“When did I say...oh never mind, do you know where we are?” asked Alatriel.

 

“Um...not Canada?” answered Gilraen, giving a big innocent smile.

 

Alatriel sighed. “We're in Middle Earth!”

 

“What?! Why didn't you say so?! Where is he?!”

 

“Who?”

 

“Pippin of course!” Gilraen peered around her friend as though expecting the hobbit to jump out of a bush somewhere.

 

Alatriel smiled sheepishly. “Well, um, that's kinda part of the problem.”

 

“You mean you don't know where...NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!” Several birds flew from a nearby tree as Gilraen screamed in agony.

 

Alatriel sighed and turned to her horse. “Well, Pippin, it's gonna be a long week.”

 

Gilraen's head snapped up at the name and ran to the horse. “What has she done to you?!” she wailed, hugging the horse's face.

 

Alatriel pulled her off. “What's with you?”

 

“You, you called him Pippin...”

 

Alatriel rolled her eyes. “Yeah- that's what I named my horse.”

 

“Ohhhh...so where's Pippin?”

 

--- --- --- ---

 

“So you're telling me that you have no idea where the Fellowship is!”

 

Alatriel sighed. They had been riding for quite a few hours, and Gilraen had not stopped complaining. “I'll check one more time, Gilraen.” She reached into the leather pouch and withdrew a heavy-looking book that didn't appear as though it should fit in the tiny bag. Gilraen watched her eagerly, bouncing in her pony's saddle.

 

Alatriel quickly paged through the text, and ran her finger down a page. “Oh, here it is! All right, if my dates are correct...” She looked at the sky and squinted at the sun's position. “...and our timing is right...the Fellowship, minus one wizard should be camping on the shores of the river Anduin right now!”

 

Gilraen seemed happy about the news, and looked around excitedly. “Which way is the river, Alatriel?”

 

The elf opened her mouth, but slowly shut it as she too looked around in confusion. Gilraen slumped in her saddle and shook her head in frustration.

 

 

 

---Author's note: By the way, this is filled with jokes from other places we found funny, along with a few inside jokes between us. If this isn't as funny to you as we found it when writing it…well, I'm sorry. It's my first attempted fanfic, give me a little slack! However, if you do like it, review please! Thank you to anyone who did read and like it, and I think that's all of my rambling…

Hope you liked the first chapter, and the story will pick up more next chapter. I'll try to update weekly, but school kind of gets in the way of that.

Oh, and so I don't forget next chapter: another disclaimer: some joke credit goes to Jerry the Frog Productions .com and potter puppet pals .com (I believe there's a reference to them somewhere in this story), but most of them came from our minds. That's it until next time!

 

P.S. I am very open to corrections of names of places or characters, although I might tweak things a little time-wise to make them fit with certain jokes I attempt.