When Fandoms unite
You are just a normal teenage girl, going to university. One day, you receive a letter that changes your life forever.
[Multiple fandoms fic]
"Oh, look who we have here.. The bookworm!" Sophie, a blonde rich bitch from English class, approached you.
"What do you want this time?" You asked, clutching your books. Sophie had been wanting information about your ex boyfriend, Dave, for a long time. You didn't know why, but you refused to tell her anything.
"You know that very well. Give. Me. His. Number."
"Why ask me? Why not ask him himself? I am sure he would love to give it to you," You answered.
"Too much effort. It is much more entertaining seeing your squeal under my words," Sophie said with so much hate it made you shiver.
"I am not squealing under your words! And I refuse."
"You will regret that," Sophie came closer to you, hand in her pocket. Your self defence system took over and you threw your dictionary in her face. You saw your chance and ran, leaving your bag and books behind.
"You will pay for that! I will crush everything you have ever loved!" You heard Sophie screaming behind you. You smiled to yourself. There was no one you had ever loved.
You had found out that you were adopted 3 years before you went to university. It was no surprise to you, seeing that you were always treated as the black sheep of the family. You hated your 'parents'. Your dad was always drunk, and if he wasn't then he was busy beating you. You learned not to be in the house when he got home from work. Your mum was stingy and tried to hold back on your study money as much as possible. You had to earn the money yourself to go to uni, and while you earned money for yourself, your family claimed you to pay them the money back of all they had spend on you. You earned money by working at the local stables. At school, you had no friends, except Ilonka, who you had known what felt like always. You often went to her house to talk about different things, but somehow the conversation would always lead back to the old Gods of the Germanic peoples, such as Odin, Thor, Loki, Forseti and Heimdallr. You loved those conversations. You'd always felt a strange kind of connection with those stories.
You stopped running and looked around. Your feet had taken you to the forest you used to play in when you were little. You had once build a treehouse, but it was ages ago when you had last been in it. There it was. In the tallest oak tree you could see the shape of a treehouse. You walked to the tree. "So many memories.." You whispered as you climbed the tree.
When you entered the treehouse, you were welcomed by your old book chest you had kept there. You sat on your hand mate bench-bed and opened the chest. You grabbed the first book that caught your attention. "The Hobbit, by J.J.R.Tolkien," You whispered. "That will be nice to read for now," you opened the book and wanted to start reading, but something caught your attention.
A tiny envelope, with the words "You will need this" written on it. You opened the envelope. In it was a little jar, with a silvery glittery powder in it. Then there was also a letter.
• Sprinkle some of thee most precious Eldar Powder on your tongue.
• When you start reading, keep the jar of Starlight in your pocket.
• You will not have to sprinkle it on your tongue again, for it's power will last forever.
"Eldar? Where have I heard that name before..." You sprinkled some of the powder on your hand. It looked like it changed colour. "I will never know what will happen if I have never tried.." You said to yourself. You sprinkled a bit onto your tongue. It tasted a bit like cinnamon and sugar, mixed with other spices. The wind blew, and you shivered. You saw your leather jacket hanging on the wall. So that is where you'd left it! You put it on and felt much better, the soft leather hugging your skin gently. You put the little jar in your pocket, and started reading.
"Maybe if I read it out loud..?"
"In a hole under the ground there lived a hobbit. not a nasty, dirty, ugly hole, with the end of worms and an oozy smell, nor yet a dry, bare, sandy hole with noting to sit down on or to eat at: It was a hobbit hole, and that means comfort. It had a perfect round hole like a porthole, painted green, with a shiny yellow brass knob in the exact middle. the door-"
There was a strange blue light which shone out of the book and blinded your eyes. A second later, you were gone.