The Sisters [A Hobbit Fanfiction]

Prologue

Gandalf stood with Galadriel and Saruman. They had convened to discuss the darkness growing in Mirkwood, which they had. Now, the conversation took a different turn as Gandalf said,

"Rumors are spreading..."

"Rumors?" asked Galadriel, eyebrows raising. Gandalf nodded,

"Of a group of mercenaries... their feats have begun to spread throughout all of middle earth." Saruman nodded,

"I have heard to them too... the birds often come with tales of great triumph and valor."

"Apparently one is an elf," said Gandalf conversationally, hoping to draw out Galadriel's opinion. "An elleth of great beauty who is much skilled with a bow and a scythe..."

Galadriel was silent for a moment.

"The elves have heard of them too..." Something in her demeanor caused Gandalf and Saruman to exchange a look.

"How is your young relation, Lady Nienna?" asked Gandalf, changing the subject. To his and Saruman's surprise, Galadriel's tension only seemed to increase.

"She is well."

"Oh... good..." Gandalf trailed off, not sure what to say. Just as he and Saruman were about to give up and take their leave, Galadriel spoke,

"What were they called again? The mercenaries," she added when the two wizards looked confused.

"Oh," said Gandalf with a knowing smile. "I believe they are hailed as The Sisterhood..."

*    *    *

Thranduil sat in his throne, reading the written reports from some elves that he'd sent out to visit the other kingdoms. Though uninterested in involving himself with other kingdoms, Thranduil had heard tales recently that he wanted confirming.

With a sigh he leaned back slightly, thinking. Recently, gossip of a band of mercenaries had sprung up, whispered on by elves and animals alike.

They spoke of a ranger from the north, a warrior cloaked in night, an elf who never missed, a wizard of great knowledge and power and a small sprite of unknown origins... This gathering, The Sisterhood, they took what missions they chose and they never failed.

The elves he'd sent out would return tomorrow and he would close his borders again. As intriguing as these stories were, it was highly unlikely such a group would venture into Greenwood.

Which was, he thought firmly, for the best. Bored he may be, but that didn't mean he would welcome in such an unpredictable and ruly group...

*    *    *

Smaug lay curled up on his piles of gold, dreaming. In his dreams came whispers, strange foretellings that shrouded his mind.

... a halfling stealing his jewels... a wizard burning... a woman, cloaked and masked raised her sword high... another cloaked figure running to drag an elf out of the flames... the same elf shooting arrow after arrow at some unseen foe...

With a jolt, Smaug woke, gold cascading down his pile from his sudden movement. For a moment, he pondered the last disappearing wisps of his dream critically. Then, as they vanished from his memory completely, he mentally shrugged.

They were only dreams after all. No one could defeat him, the Great Smaug who ousted the dwarves from their lair and took all their gold.

With that comforting thought, he drifted back to sleep.

[Dear Readers, there is a character guide for your use at the end of the book if you should get confused. However, there are some spoilers in it, so use it wisely...]