TItle: The Metahuman, The Ranger, And The One Ring
Fandoms: Smallville/Lord Of The Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring
Disclaimer: I do not own Smallville or LOTR
Summary: When Chloe bleeds into a Lord of the Rings book printed with kryptonite ink she finds herself sucked into that world, with only Aragorn as her protector and friend. But now a war is upon Middle Earth, and everything points to her playing a vital role...
"You can't seriously believe-." Oliver began, frowning at Lois.
Clark narrowed his eyes. "Oliver, if anyone could get sucked up into a book, it's Chloe."
The blonde archer had to wince as he admitted silently that, yes
, if there was anyone with such excruciatingly bad luck, it would be Sidekick.
"Thank you, Smallville." Lois announced, giving her ex a glare before slamming the book down on the table and opening it in time for another section to burn into the pages right before the boys' eyes.
Oliver sat down.
Clark sighed. "Oh boy.""Chloe and Aragorn rode swiftly towards Bree, the maiden concerned by the implications of her mother's part in the past of this great world being a very important one-and worrying that she wouldn't be able to live up to everyone's expectations-her deceased mother's included. Strider, on the hand, rode with worries of the One Ring, and of the implication of Chloe's mother being the legendary Moira daughter of Lane. Moira of Lane had been instrumental in Isildur defeating Sauron in the ages past, and Aragorn knew all too well how that story had ended. In tragedy."
Lois gulped, looking up at the men with her in worry before looking back down and continued to read.-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
The lights of Bree, a small village of stone and half timbered houses nestled against a low wooden hill, had been the first thing that'd drawn Chloe's attention as they finally reached their destination. It'd been days of hard riding, and while Chloe's mind might have once read the naughty intonation of that wording, now it was way too tired to come up with anything dirty. No. She knew that the hard riding had been on a horse-because she was sleepy and painful and tired and smelt like the horse.
None of those things made one think of kinkiness.
Even if the Sex God himself was behind you the whole time, enveloping you in his warmth.
Chloe had been in such need of a good night's rest that she had to admit that she was nearly half asleep when they reached the gatehouse for the great gate barring the western entrance.
The peekdoor opened, and the surly gatekeeper glanced at them. "What do you want?"
"We're headed for the Prancing Pony." Aragorn announced firmly.
The gatekeeper swung his lantern onto them, bathing them in an uncomfortably bright yellow spotlight.
Chloe looked away and raised her hand to shield from the light.
"Ah, Ranger Strider." The gatekeeper apparently recognize Aragorn. "...and lady
." He quickly unlocked the gate and gave Aragorn a shocked look as the Ranger rode through.
Chloe frowned, waking up a little more since that light had been blinding. "What was that look all about?"
"What look, milady?" The Ranger asked innocently.
"The one where his eyeballs nearly popped out of their sockets." She clarified.
"You...have such an oddly descriptive way of expressing yourself."
"You have such an annoying way of trying to change the subject." She countered, not about to give up.
He chuckled from behind her. "He is merely surprised."
"I got that part. What I don't know is why."
"I'm with a lady." Aragorn replied. "We are both sitting astride the same horse, having obviously travelled together for days, unchaperoned. He either assumes you are my wife...or my...trollop."
Chloe bristled. "I am no one's trollop!"
"Assuredly you are not."
"Stop trying to appease me." She mumbled.
"I am merely agreeing with what you have stated."
"No, you're doing that Clark thing. Where you agree with me so I will calm down and shut up."
"No." His voice was serious and low. "I am not doing this 'Clark thing' which you describe. I am agreeing that you are not a woman of loose nature. I am agreeing that you are a woman of virtue. I know this to be true."
Chloe gulped, all annoyance escaping her replaced with butterflies and...surprisingly enough...nausea.
No one had ever said something like that to her before.
It warmed her.
But also, it worried her.
How would Aragorn's thoughts change if he realized that she wasn't a 'virtuous' woman in the way people in these days referred to it?
In her days virginity really wasn't something one kept until marriage.
Hell, Lois had lost hers at fifteen!
Chloe hadn't been that far behind, losing hers at sixteen.
And Justin Gaines had not been the last guy she'd slept with.
In these days, she actually could
be considered a trollop.
That thought left her silent all the way to the Prancing Pony.
Aragorn dismounted and helped her dismount Roheryn, and after paying a stable boy to take the steed to the stables, they entered the Prance Pony. It was just like all the pubs she'd seen in medieval movies, and yet still nothing in the movies had ever prepared her for the loudness and the stench. People smelt of animals and sweat and Chloe had to wince when she realized that she probably smelt the same and was only adding to the horrible scent.
She really wanted to bathe.
A couple of men sneered down at her, but looked away when Aragorn's hand went to the small of her back, leading her through the throng of sweaty, drunk men until they reached the innkeeper. The ranger paid for a room with two beds, and ignored the look the innkeeper gave them before giving them the keys to the rooms. They went to their room and looked around, Chloe going to the bed closest to the door and poking the 'mattress' curiously, wondering just what it was made of.
"That will be my bed." Aragorn cleared his throat.
Chloe looked up in surprise. "But-."
"In case of anything, I'd prefer to be between you and the door." The ranger announced, looking away from her.
She watched him in silence before smiling and shaking her head.
He wanted to be close to the door in case anyone tried to break in.
There was a knock on the door.
Aragorn tightened his grip on his sword. "Who is it?"
"You requested water for a bathe, sir?" A woman coudl be heard saying from the other side of the door.
"Ah, yes." Aragorn nodded, going to the door and opening it, letting the serving wenches come into the room with the buckets of water and enter a small adjourning room. There was a movable tub there, which they filled with hot water until it was nearly full. Then, with glances at Aragorn, they slipped out of the room giggling.
Strider turned to Chloe. "You must be tired from the ride. I am used to days on Roheryn, but you are not." He motioned towards the rustic bathroom. "Please, rest your muscles and only come down once you are feeling better."
She was shocked at his thoughtfulness. "You-uh-don't need to bathe?"
"I must be on watch for the young Master Hobbits." Strider bowed his head. "They should be arriving soon, and they will be expecting Gandalf to be here."
"Okay." She nodded, feeling a little awkward.
Strider slipped out of the room.
Chloe sighed as the door closed behind him.
He really was
all business, huh?
Maybe, once she was finished bathing, she could send him upstairs for a bath while she kept an eye out for the hobbits. Granted, she'd never seen one herself, but she knew from Aragorn's description what to expect. Hobbits were small people-the size of children-with big hairy feet.
She would definitely notice them if she saw them.
Chloe slipped off her clothes and into the tub, scrubbing herself of the dirt that'd accumulated on her skin. She'd bathed in the rivers, but the water had always been so cold that it'd been a hasty affair. Thankfully now, in a somewhat civilized environment, and with a wonderful temperature, she was able to soak and scrub at her skin. By the time she was finished she was wrinkled and pink from all the scrubbing, but she felt human once more and the thought made her smile.
Of course, when she'd emerged from the water she'd winced when she'd seen how murky it was.
She'd been seriously dirty.
Aragorn hadn't ever made a move!
A little depressed, Chloe had gone about trying to untangle her hair, which had grown a little during her stay. For the first time she wondered about whether she should try and make it grow. She'd seen the serving wenches. They were all alluring with their long hair.
A woman with a male's hairstyle...
Chloe frowned slightly, slipping back into her clothes.
Despite the clothes still being covered in dust, she felt better, and was able to smile as she exited the room, walking around to the stairs before going down to the bar below.
It was dimly lit, chiefly lit from a blazing log fire. There was a mixture of Big Folk, local Hobbits, and a couple of dwarfs. Chloe began to doubt that she would be able to tell which hobbits they were looking for.
"That fellow's done nothing but stare at you since we've arrived." A redheaded hobbit sitting at a table with another dark haired one whispered to his friend, while indicating a brooding stranger sitting alone at a table in the far corner, smoking a curiously carved long stemmed pipe, peering from beneath a travel stained cowl with gleaming eyes.
Couldn't Aragorn at least try
to see a little less like a terrifying mass murderer?
The other hobbit motioned to one of the servers. "Excuse me, but that man in the corner, who is he?"
The server looked up and then looked down immediately. "He's on of them Rangers. They're dangerous folk they are, wandering the wilds. What his right name is, I never heard, but round here he's known as Strider."
"Strider." The hobbit whispered to himself.
"Baggins?" Another hobbit at the bar announced loudly, chatting with the locals. "Sure, I know a Baggins...he's over there..."
The hobbit who'd asked about Aragorn leapt to his feet and pushed his way towards the bar.
The hobbit at the bar had yet to notice him, smiling in pride. "Frodo Baggins."
Chloe's eyes widened as she recognized the name.
"He's my second cousin once removed on his mother side and my third cousin twice removed on his father's side...if you follow me." The hobbit continued to boast.
The hobbit, Frodo, grabbed the chatty hobbit's sleeve, spilling his beer. "Pippin!"
"Steady on, Frodo!" Pippin pushed Frodo away.
Frodo stumbled backwards, falling to the floor, and at that instant the Inn went silent as all the attention turned to the small hobbit as a ring slipped out of his fingers during the falling, flinging up in the air, before crashing down onto his stretched finger.
And then Frodo vanished.
It was the One Ring.
It had to be!
There was total silence in the Inn.
Chloe turned to look at Aragorn.
He was watching with a dark frown on his face.
The inn erupted in exited babble.
Suddenly Frodo appeared under a table, pulling the ring off of his finger desperately.
In seconds Aragorn had grabbed him by his collar and dragged the hobbit away.
The three hobbits that were traveling with Frodo (which confused Chloe since Gandalf had only only told them about a Samwise Gamgee) looked in their direction with horror, before rushing after Aragorn and Frodo.
The others in the bar were curious, but refused to take pursuit.
Chloe sighed, and followed after, getting there in time for the hobbits to break into the room Aragorn had taken Frodo to.
Frodo was standing with eyes wide, and Aragorn was turned towards the door, sword drawn.
Pippin and the other two hobbits were there, the redhead squaring off with his fists, another brandishing a candlestick, and Pippin a chair.
"Let him go or I'll have you, Longshanks!" The redhead announced angrily.
They were adorable
Aragorn sheathed his sword, a slight smile playing on his lips. "You have a stout heart, little Hobbit, but that alone won't save you." He sighed and shared a look with Chloe before turning to Frodo. "You can no longer wait for the Wizard, Frodo. They're coming."-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
"They?" Clark frowned, leaning on the table closer to the book. "Wait. Who are they
?" He looked up. "Has anyone here ever read any of the books? Watched the movies? Seen the cartoons?"
Lois snorted. "Do I look like a fantasy nerd, Smallville?"
Clark ignored her, turning to Oliver.
The blonde shook his head. "Despite the hype, they never really interested me. I was tempted when I found out there was a blonde archer in them" he motioned to himself as if they hadn't figured out why a blonde archer wouldn't tempt him. "But ultimately I was too busy, you know, saving the world. Or preparing
myself to save the world."
Lois rolled her eyes before continuing to read. "The Ringwraiths, knowing immediately that the ring had been worn, rode towards Bree to kill the one who had worn it, and take the ring back to their master."
Clark frowned. "This is so not good."
Oliver ran a hand over his hair in frustration. "We need to find a way to get Sidekick out of this story, pronto. I'm liking the story-line less and less as Lane continues to narrate."
"I second this vote." Lois raised her hand, as if that would make much of a difference. "We need to find a way to get Chloe out of Middle Earth and back to Smallville..." she paused. "Though it's not much safer here, is it?"
Clark glared at her. "She's safer here."
"I beg to differ." Lois, always up for an argument with the farm boy, turned to look at him. "She's been with Strider for what? A month or more, maybe two? I don't remember and I don't really want to look back at the previous chapters because I'm lazy like that and it doesn't really matter because it will still prove my point. She's been with him for a long time now, and she hasn't been attacked yet. But here in Smallville she gets attacked every thursday by the Freak of the Week."
"Lois, she doesn't belong there." Clark tried to get her to understand.
"She was sent there for something, Smallville, you've read what it said about Aunt Moira." Lois frowned. "And these are Aunt Moira's books. I don't believe in coincidences. Chloe was meant to go to Middle Earth."
"What are you saying, Lane?" Oliver narrowed his eyes. "That we just sit down and let her get hurt because she was supposed to?"
"No." Lois glared at him. "I'm saying we need to find a way to get into the goddamned book with her!"
The boys' eyes widened. "What?"
"I can fight hand to hand better than anyone, Smallville has his...alien-thing...and you rock your bow and arrows." Lois motioned to them all viciously. "We are so totally useful for this time-setting and genre." She cleared her throat. "And when Aunt Moira finished what she had to do, she got sent back here, right? So I'm guessing that's how it will work for Baby Cuz too. When she's done what needs to be done, she'll be sent back here."
"I hate to say this." Clark frowned.
"Then don't say it." Oliver pleaded.
"Lois might be right." It looked as if it hurt Clark to utter those words.
"He had to say it." Oliver sighed. "She'll never let us live this down."
Lois ignored them. "Shut up." Her gaze were one the pages, and the words being burnt into them. "The Ringwraiths have arrived in Bree and are heading towards the Prancing Pony."-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-v-
The hobbits had been embarrassed about sleeping in the room with a girl, but Chloe had laughed off the antiquated thoughts, reminded them why they were sharing a room, and then had laid down on her bed and slept. When she'd woken up later, the room was dark, and the four hobbits were lying in comical positions on Aragorn's bed.
Strider sat at the window, looking down.
They'd moved from the Prancing Pony and gone instead to an Inn within view of the Prancing Pony, having asked for a room with three beds.
From the looks of things, Strider hadn't slept on his.
"Aragorn?" Chloe whispered, slipping out of the bed and going to his side, hesitating only a second before resting a hand on his shoulder. "You need to sleep."
He looked up at her, face shadowed in the moonlight. "The Ringwraiths are here, in Bree." His gaze returned out the window. "I saw them enter the Prancing Pony."
Fear gripped her heart.
"Do not fear, milady, they will not find us here." Aragorn looked back up at her, sensing her distress. "You are safe."
She nodded, feeling cowardly for having scared so easily.
Suddenly loud, inhuman shrieks of rage echoed throughout the night, causing Chloe to gasp and tighten her grip on Strider's shoulder, and for the hobbits to wake up in frightened jolts.
Frodo slipped from the bed and went to their side, peering out nervously as furious Ringwraith screeches echoed across the courtyard from the Prancing Pony.
"They discovered that your rooms are empty." Aragorn announced softly, gaze still out of the window, his hand raising to rest on the one Chloe had on his shoulder, softly caressing her hand in a reassuring way.
"What are they?" Frodo asked, so small and scared.
Chloe looked down at Aragorn, having wondered this herself.
"They were once men." Strider shocked them both visibly as he looked at Frodo before looking away, continuing softly. "Great Kings of Men. Then Sauron the Deceiver gave them nine Rings of Power. Blinded by their greed they took them without question, one by one falling into darkness and now they are slaves to his will."
Suddenly the Ringwraiths flowed out from the Prancing Pony, the darkness covering them in such a way that you couldn't really desribe them if asked to later on. They were only darker shadows that rode upon horses...thankfully riding furiously away, probably suspecting that their prey had tried to leave the village.
Frodo made a choked sound.
Strider turned back to Frodo, his face lit faintly by the glowing embers of the fire he'd obviously been tending to faithfully throughout the night. "They are the Nazgul, Ringwraiths, neither living or dead. At all times they feel the presence of the ring...drawn to the power of the one..." He sighed, eyes meeting Frodo's. "They will never stop hunting you."
Frodo looked sick, pale.
Chloe took compassion on him, and placed her hand on his shoulder. "They're leaving Bree now, you should sleep."
"I can't sleep." Frodo protested. "Not with those things
"Gone. For now." Chloe bent so that she could look into his face. "Frodo, you have a huge responsibility. You must protect the ring for Gandalf, remember promising him to do so? To keep it hidden, keep it safe?"
Frodo's eyes widened as he recognized the words Gandalf had told him, and he nodded.
"You can't do that if you're stumbling around because you didn't rest." Chloe brushed his hair. "Go back to sleep. Please?"
He hesitated before clearing his throat and nodding, a cute blush on his cheeks as he went and climbed back onto the bed, ignoring the elbowing he got from his friends were were giggling between them and sending Chloe looks.
"Thank you." Strider whispered.
She turned to him and sighed. "You should sleep as well, Aragorn."
"I should keep watch."
"Sleep." Chloe countered.
"Thank you for worrying about me, but I will not be moved."
Frowning at him, Chloe sighed and reached down. Grabbing his thighs she yanked them apart before ignoring his near squeak and settling herself down on the triangle of wood now bared on the chair, leaning back against him and wrapping his cloak tighter around them to ward off the cold.
!" Aragorn hissed/squeaked. "What are you doing
"You won't go to sleep, and I won't sleep if you won't, and there's only one chair in this room." She mumbled, tightening the cloak around them even more. "So deal with it."
!" Strider's voice was odd. "This is---it's----highly
"Improper?" She laughed in amusement. "It's just like when we're riding Roheryn!" She twisted slightly in the seat to be able to see his face to taunt him further when she realized just how close their faces were, and in the darkness of the night, his eyes were shadowed as they looked down at her.
All taunts flew from her brain as she gazed up at him.
"Milady." Aragorn's voice was deeper, raspier. "This is much different
from when we ride Roheryn."
She couldn't gulp, her gaze lowering to his lips as he spoke.
A man shouldn't have such lips.
"Are they married
?" Merry whispered to Pippin, sounding quite put out.
That was enough for Chloe to be jerked out of her skanky trance and remember that they were in what was equivalent to medieval times.
She'd basically raped
"I-uh-good night." Chloe rushed to the bed and dove under the sheet, pretending to fall asleep unnaturally fast, eyes closed so tightly it hurt, and her face red with shame.
Aragorn must really think she was a trollop now.