Crossover fic: one more part!
Hi there :)
Here's the next part of my Star WarsXLOTR crossover. Thanks to everybody who's reading |*sniff*| I'm so glad you're interested!
Rating, time period, summary, blah, blah - they are the same as the previous parts.
Sorry for any mistakes, odd sentence construction and any other thing I may have done wrong ^.^;
Luke had never had so much comfort in his life. Lying on a huge, downy bed, wearing fresh, deliciously silky clothes and eating the best food he ever tried... If he weren’t so worried about Han and Chewie and his wounds weren’t aching so bad, he would be enjoying himself.
How long had it been since the Millenium Falcon landed on that planet? Days? Weeks? From time to time there were flashes of recollection - the hyperdrive on fire; Han lying unconscious on the ground, his right leg bleeding - then, a splitting headache would make him feel sick and drained for hours. And when he recovered, his memory was all hazy and confused again.
There was a soft knock on the door and the man who was treating him entered. Luke tried to sit up but failed miserably as his broken ribs protested against the effort. The man said something in his deep, musical voice and helped Luke.
“Thanks” he mumbled, even though he knew the other wouldn’t understand. It was so frustrating! He would give anything to have Threepio here… If only they could communicate, Luke would be able to ask for help for Han and Chewie!
The man smiled and patted Luke’s head. It was a warm, affectionated touch, absolutely not patronizing. It reminded of home, of a loving family, it reminded of…
Father.
A father he never knew.
A father Uncle Owen could never replace.
Father.
Luke felt his heart warm and his eyes filled with water. What the hell was happening to him? Why was he so happy? Why was he about to burst in tears?
“This, young one, is Lord Elrond’s healing touch. He can heal your soul as well as your body, given the proper amount of time.”
Blue eyes widened as an old man dressed in gray entered the room. He had a long white beard and impressive, thick eyebrows. For a moment Luke had the crazy feeling that it was Ben in disguise.
“You talked to me!” he cried. “You can speak my language!”
Mithrandir cocked his head thoughtfully.
“Well, well… this is something I would never expect…” the old wizzard came closer to the young man and reached a hand. “Will you allow me to touch your mind, young one?”
“T-touch my m… why? How? Are you a Jedi or… Sith?” Luke recoiled at the other’s touch, looking at him suspiciously. Mithrandir seemed amused with that.
“I can help you understand our language,” he offered. “so you could speak not only to me but to everybody in this land. I do not know what a Jedi or Sith is, therefore I cannot tell you if I am or not one. What I can tell you for sure is that I mean no harm and you certainly can feel it in your heart.”
Luke hesitated for a while. He would never admit, not even to himself, but he was scared. It seemed risky. What if that strange old man was a Sith and played some mind trick on him? But then, the man did feel sincere. It was something Ben had taught him in the short time they were together - how to use the Force to know when somebody was lying. Luke wasn’t that good at it yet but now the Force was sending signs clear enough for him to be almost sure.
“Okay, you can do it.”
Mithrandir gently touched the boy’s forehead and closed his eyes. There was a sudden flash of bright, white light and Luke fell unconscious on the pillows.
Elrond sighed softly.
“Did you have to do it so soon, my friend?” he asked. “The boy is still recovering…”
The old wizzard walked to the nearest chair leaning heavily on his staff and sat there. Suddenly he looked really old, not only in appearance but in spirit.
“Peredhil, you could see that he is no ordinary man. You could see he has some kind of power. You just couldn’t see how powerful he is. This child is a Maiar, my dear Elrond.”