FIC: Darkness Waits (AB/LotR)
Aug. 30th, 2006 04:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mhalachaiIf you heard a three-octave squee an hour ago, it was me finally sending off my 40-page magazine to the printers. Done, baby!
So I celebrate with the wackiest crossover ever.
Disclaimer: Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. Lord of the Rings belongs to JRR Tolkien. I'm only borrowing and will return them at the end of the fic.
Author's Note:![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
todaygirl requested a crossover for Anita Blake and Lord of the Rings in the Ficlette Fiasco III. This story has vague spoilers for Danse Macabre, and rough ones for the Silmarillion.
Beta: Massive thanks toithidrial and to windmiran for their help with the Silmarillion/LotR aspects of this story. Anything I get wrong is my own fault. We're working off book canon here, not so much the movies.
Word count:: 456
Summary/Introduction: Darkness may sleep, but she has seen all.
~~~
Darkness sleeps.
In the beginning, the Darkness was born from Melkor's shadow. She held no name amongst the Maia, holding shape and purpose and meaning in silent shadows. Darkness was feared as befitted the night; the eyes of men were blinded to truth and hope by the black of shadows.
Standing half in the circle of darkness, purpose can be warped from its path. In the darkness, Sauron took form, took purpose in the ambitions of Melkor, moved against the power of the Valar, moved against the balance and the purpose, and sought to cover the land with his own power. He stood tall, bound his power in the Rings, clothed in darkness, but did not stand with the Darkness, and was cut down in his arrogance.
The Darkness knew.
A broken, crippled creature, warped by power and necromancy, Sauron returned in his quest for unnatural power, but having seen his defeat and his weakness, Darkness would not aid him. Once again, Sauron was destroyed, victim of his own petty desires.
The Darkness watched, as the Valar drifted deeper into the mists, remembering all and forgetting everything. She watched as their influence left the lands of man, the passing of elves and dwarves like rain over the stone monuments of civilizations long dead.
For even Darkness cannot stop time, the relentless rising of the sun over the hills, the passing ages of mortals and gods.
In the darkness, once again, purpose and meanings grew. This time, Darkness held what she had learned from the first, and she stepped out into shape and name, into flesh and bone and blackest blood to make her mark upon the world.
Vampire was born from darkness, to a mother of flesh and bloody bones, and the purpose grew.
Ages passed, man's mortality like decay upon the wind, and the purpose held, the pressing dark and the fear of whispered death hovering in tales told by man around the tiny, futile fires.
Ages passed, and Darkness drifted. Soon, Darkness slept.
Now, necromancy again stirs the Darkness from her dreams. She feels the warping of her purpose, of another daring to usurp her power of darkness and death. She wonders if this new one knows the path upon which she has started, of names and shapes with purpose and meanings in death and the pressing black of night.
Darkness is curious, but knows that there are no longer Rings, no artifacts of power. All death and darkness is within, all bound to the kingdom of Darkness herself. All darkness and death will come to her, in the end, as it is her realm, her domain, just as life has always been the domain of the light.
In the end, Darkness will reign.
--the end
So I celebrate with the wackiest crossover ever.
Darkness Waits
An Anita Blake/Lord of the Rings crossover
An Anita Blake/Lord of the Rings crossover
Disclaimer: Laurell K. Hamilton owns all things Anita Blake. Lord of the Rings belongs to JRR Tolkien. I'm only borrowing and will return them at the end of the fic.
Author's Note:
todaygirl requested a crossover for Anita Blake and Lord of the Rings in the Ficlette Fiasco III. This story has vague spoilers for Danse Macabre, and rough ones for the Silmarillion.Beta: Massive thanks to
ithidrial and to windmiran for their help with the Silmarillion/LotR aspects of this story. Anything I get wrong is my own fault. We're working off book canon here, not so much the movies.Word count:: 456
Summary/Introduction: Darkness may sleep, but she has seen all.
Darkness sleeps.
In the beginning, the Darkness was born from Melkor's shadow. She held no name amongst the Maia, holding shape and purpose and meaning in silent shadows. Darkness was feared as befitted the night; the eyes of men were blinded to truth and hope by the black of shadows.
Standing half in the circle of darkness, purpose can be warped from its path. In the darkness, Sauron took form, took purpose in the ambitions of Melkor, moved against the power of the Valar, moved against the balance and the purpose, and sought to cover the land with his own power. He stood tall, bound his power in the Rings, clothed in darkness, but did not stand with the Darkness, and was cut down in his arrogance.
The Darkness knew.
A broken, crippled creature, warped by power and necromancy, Sauron returned in his quest for unnatural power, but having seen his defeat and his weakness, Darkness would not aid him. Once again, Sauron was destroyed, victim of his own petty desires.
The Darkness watched, as the Valar drifted deeper into the mists, remembering all and forgetting everything. She watched as their influence left the lands of man, the passing of elves and dwarves like rain over the stone monuments of civilizations long dead.
For even Darkness cannot stop time, the relentless rising of the sun over the hills, the passing ages of mortals and gods.
In the darkness, once again, purpose and meanings grew. This time, Darkness held what she had learned from the first, and she stepped out into shape and name, into flesh and bone and blackest blood to make her mark upon the world.
Vampire was born from darkness, to a mother of flesh and bloody bones, and the purpose grew.
Ages passed, man's mortality like decay upon the wind, and the purpose held, the pressing dark and the fear of whispered death hovering in tales told by man around the tiny, futile fires.
Ages passed, and Darkness drifted. Soon, Darkness slept.
Now, necromancy again stirs the Darkness from her dreams. She feels the warping of her purpose, of another daring to usurp her power of darkness and death. She wonders if this new one knows the path upon which she has started, of names and shapes with purpose and meanings in death and the pressing black of night.
Darkness is curious, but knows that there are no longer Rings, no artifacts of power. All death and darkness is within, all bound to the kingdom of Darkness herself. All darkness and death will come to her, in the end, as it is her realm, her domain, just as life has always been the domain of the light.
In the end, Darkness will reign.