My first LOTR fanfic, read and review. I tried to keep a Tolkienish style, so i use many elven names for places and people. If you don't remember eìwhat they are about, it's a good occasion to take up the books again.

This is a story that has not happened.

Hopefully, that will never happen.

I have seen many things that were supposed to remain hidden from anyone. I have seen events that will never take place, and lives that still wait to begin. For i have taken my choice, in the beginning of the world, and it was to stay aside Ilùvatar outside the world. My sight is anyway turned towards Arda, the world of mortals, in my endless quest for knowledge.

I know much. The rest, i can imagine.

As many know, in the end of all the ages a confrontation between good and evil must take place.

In the first age, Morgoth was defeated. In the second, Sauron was reduced to a ghost and believed dead. But evil has grown, if not stronger, more wise and clever, subtle enough to corrupt the souls of those who were paladins of good.

I know this because i was there, when in the mouth of Orodruin, where the ring was created, two hobbits were about to destroy it. I was there, not physically, but as a presence, as an eye that can see but is never seen. Yes, i have seen this hobbit, this creature overtaken by a power too great to be resisted by a mortal, fighting against the creature Gollum, another corrupted soul, and i have seen Frodo winning and holding the precious as his own.

I have seen the Nazgul descending on the cliffs of Mount Doom and stabbing the hobbit. I have seen the Ring of Power, One To Rule Them All, returned to his creator. And i have seen this creator returned to life, i have seen the rebirth of Sauron.

Elrond looked anxiously out of the window, hoping to see his sons coming. They went scouting around Rivendell in search of the goblins that raided a few of his elven patrols. He knew it wouldn't have been much of a danger, but he was nevertheless concerned. Even though the Enemy was still far away, he was doubtlessly marching towards Imladris. As the Gray Havens were blocked by the corsairs and Cirdan cornered, the Eldar's last stand was there. Even Mirkwood, invaded by the forces swarming from Dol Guldur, was being abandoned and the Wood Elves joined the people of Lothlorien in their escape to Rivendell itself.

A soft knock on the door distracted Elrond from his thoughts.

"Father?" His daughter opened slowly the door, her face obscured by concern.

"Yes Arwen, what troubles you?"

"I have noticed you received a messenger from south. What news are coming from the lands of men?"

"Dire news, indeed, but not worse than i feared. Minas Tirith is no more. Gondor is invaded and Rohan is just about to suffer the same fate. The Rohirrim are rising up and trying to resist, but they stand no chance." Nor do the Dwarves in the Lonely Mountain, nor we do here, he considered, but he gave no voice to these sad thoughts.

"And a message from Gandalf has just reached me" he continued "What remains of the Fellowship is going to reach us in a few days, together with the Dunedain and the few Gondor fighters that have survived the fall of the White City. He will rech us soon, after he has settled some unknown matter."

Arwen nodded, evidently distracted.

"Here come your brothers" said Elrond, looking out of the window "let us hope their news are better than mine."

Elladan and Elohir were riding trough the main gates of Rivendell, now fortified and guarded night and day by Elven archers. The fields surrounding the house of Elrond were filled with tents, campfires, charts and various luggages brought by people seeking sanctuary. Most of them was now inside the main palace or their own little camps, but still someone roamed that courtyard, pretending not to be scared.

But they were scared.

Even the bravest elves were unable to bear the burden of such imminent danger. Only Elrond and very few others remembered the fight in the end of the Second Age; it had been a difficult victory and yet the army of the Last Alligeance was ten times larger than the amount of fighters they could gather.

Elladan was shivering, and he didn't want his father to see him in that shape. What he and his brother had just seen was simply too terrible to be real.

But it was real.

Elohir was the bravest of the two, but he wasn't hiding his fear anyway. As Elrond approached, running out in the courtyard followed by Arwen and saw his two sons so frightened, an expression of fear appeared on him for the first time after hundreds of years.

"We have terrible news, father! They are coming, they..." Elladan stopped, choking.

"Dragons, father! From the North and the East!"

Elrond was petrified. In the thousands of years he lived, never he had felt so weak and impotent.

"This cannot be..."

"Believe us, father! There are at least four of them, coming from the mountains."

"Let us return in the house, so we will speak without scaring this people any more."

But may had seen the fear of the Half-Elven, and they all knew that he would have been scared only if the world's end was at hand.

In his room Bilbo was hastily writing pages and pages of his red book. While until then he pondered every word and kept a slow rhythm, he now wrote at his maximum speed, caring little about calligraphy and grammar errors. If he hadn't finished it soon, probably he'd have never finished it. And he felt like if the book continued, life continued. He was quickly growing old, like all the years he had dodged before were falling on him, but this just didn't stop him. That book was his greatest adventure, for it contained all the others. It would have contained his last one too.

The elves were very protective towards him and they tried to appear completely relaxed, but a Hobbit that has spoken with a dragon and known all people of Middle Earth wasn't so easily cheated. He was willing to play his part in such a fight, even if this meant his death.

He wasn't probably going to live happily ever after. The ending of his book would have probably been written by someone else, maybe by Frodo...

The elves had not spoken of him much, in the last times. Or at least not when Bilbo was present. He overheard Elrond speaking of the Fellowship returning though, so he was hoping to see his nephew soon.

"How many, elf?"

"This is the twelfth!"

"You've just been lucky!" shouted Gimli, while he took down the tenth orc of that day.

The path of the Fellowship was blocked in a village of Rohan, not far away from the Misty Mountains. They were heading northwards on the quickest way, but parties of warriors from Mordor had already invaded the lands and were scattered everywhere.

"Fourteen!" yelled Aragorn, decapitating a particularly big orc. He had joined Gimli and Legolas in that macabre race because it was the only thing they could have laughed about in those days.

They had marched straight north since the fall of Minas Tirith, gathering the few rangers they met. Until then, thirty rangers had joined them, Dùnadain as well as people from Gondor.

All the villages they had passed through had been raided. Orcs and goblins came to destroy everything, without order and mainly without purpose. Sauron had remained in the south with most of his soldiers. His army had been decimated in the battle with the Men of the West, and he still needed to recover his battalions and reorganize the army. Proud and bloodthirsty as he was, he still hesitated to attack the Elves without his full strength.

Gimli slashed his sixteenth orc, and it was the last. The village had been cleared, and it was almost evening. They decided to camp there for the night, hoping not to be spotted by another party of enemies. Legolas had won the day, with eighteen kills, and he was running around the field looking for his arrows. He carried few with himself and he hated to use orcish ones like the rangers did, so he always tried to retrieve his own.

"We can't get to Rivendell at this rate! Shouted Gimli, while they were sitting around the fire, in the evening. "If every village is as infested as this, we will never breach the enemy's forces around the Last Housing Place!"

"Maybe." Aragorn sat thoughtful, smoking from a pipe. "But the orcs grow lesser in number as we proceed northwards. We met more on the road to this village than in the village itself, and much more we met yesterday than today."

"I agree." Legolas affirmed "They seem to be disbanded and without aim, and the more of them we kill, the more the survivors will be afraid of us. More than once they have tried to escaped us as we approached."

"That's true" admitted the Dwarf "but they surely have surrounded Elrond's house with as many troops as they can assemble. Sauron won't just let his main objective receive reinforcements without trying to stop them."

"This is true, but you must consider in these lands he has in his disposal merely Goblins. Even though they may be numerous, they are no match for us and the rangers."

"There something which worries me more." said Legolas "We haven't received any news from Gandalf since the last two days. He might be in need of help."

"If he has not revealed us his destination," stated Aragorn, "it is precisely so that we wouldn't have been tempted to follow him. I trust Mithrandir, anyway. He has survived many deadly battles, and his wisdom is undoubted. He will know what to do."

Gandalf was sitting between the trees on Fangorn gaining his strength to take a difficult decision. His kindred, Radagast, sat beside him, listening from the mouths of animals the news about the Enemy's advance.

Orcs burnt everything on their path, even when they didn't need to. They lumbered more trees than they could use, simply taking pleasure in ending their centuries-old lives.

"Gandalf... we must act quickly, whatever is the risk. We will stand no chance, if they advance further."

"You know what is the toll of such an attempt. We will send others in a battle with no return."

"I understand, but they are restless. We must act as soon as the war host is sat on march, or the forest will succumb before reacting."

"Sad words, but true. Help me. We will do what we must."
Screamed by the two Istarii, the Ent call resonated in the valley and expanded beyond the borders of the forest. A slight echo of it reached Sauron's ears. On his throne in the ruined city of the Tower of Guard, he screamed in response, a scream of pure evil, a long lost war cry which froze his foes' blood as well as that of his servants.

I hope this first chapter can give an impression about what is going to happen. I believe the "what if" is a good chance to create some epic battles. I also wanted to give some space to characters loke Glorfindel of Tom Bombadil who were left out in the movies, so expect them to play a huge part.

Next chapter is not going to be out before September 15th.