Content Warning: Bullying, War, Trauma/PTSD, Emotional/Physical Abuse, Self-Harm, Violent Content, Depression. Reader discretion is advised

Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction, as none of the content is my original work. The characters are created by Stephen King and J.R.R Tolkien. The content belongs to MGM and Screen Gems, as the 2013 film remake of Carrie was directed by Kimberly Pierce and produced by Kevin Misher, and additional production is through MGM, Screen Gems, and Misher films as well as distributed by Sony Pictures releasing.

Elves and Wizards

Carrie mulled over Thorin’s words after her mini sword lesson, unsure what to think or believe. While Carrie was grateful that things were now fine between them, more questions ran through her mind. Was she truly this prophesized red maiden that will be the end of Smaug? If so, then why do the majority of the elves look at her with suspicion? Is she really that dangerous to them? If that was true, why didn’t any of them simply run her out of Rivendell or kill her on the spot?

The longer she stayed in Rivendell the more she started to understand why most dwarves hold a certain disdain for elves. She mused to herself that all of them could easily fit in with the popular group at her school. They were aloof, not once giving lonely social outcasts like her a chance to fit in. The thought weighed on her, leading to flashbacks of all the times everyone at school would whisper or snicker behind her back. However, she dared not dwell on what the elves may think of her. If she did she would become as bitter as Thorin, or worse, lash out with her powers and prove the elves’ suspicion true.

That was when Carrie decided to fill her time with sword lessons from Thorin and exploring every square inch of the beautiful landscape. Both did the trick to get her mind off the elves, at least for a short while. If it wasn’t for the elves’ constantly watching Carrie, she could easily wander the nature-abundant, palace-like setting for an eternity. Rivendell was the closest thing to heaven Carrie had ever seen.

However, Carrie could not ignore the questions that ran circles around her mind forever. She knew it would not be long before Gandalf and Lord Elrond would have the map deciphered. As their time in Rivendell neared its end, Carrie was not once able to find Gandalf to speak with him about the prophecy.

In one last attempt to find Gandalf, Carrie searched the castle from top to bottom, even checking places she never thought he’d be. She combed the courtyards and studies, as well as the balconies, but had no luck in finding him anywhere. She began to think to herself that finding the wizard was more like trying to finding a needle in a haystack

Her hopes and frustration that came with searching for Gandalf faded as a glint of shining material caught her eye. Curiosity got the better of her and she ascended the stairs to find pieces of a sword displayed.
Carefully preserved on what looked like an offering plate held by a statue of a man, the pieces reflected the evening sunlight. She stared at the broken sword in silent awe wondering what had damaged it in battle. The more she looked at the broken pieces, the more she began to wonder if it was lying in wait for a legendary knight like in the myths she’d read at school.

The impression lingered in her mind as she turned to take notice of a painting behind her. A knight-like figure held a sword against a tall, heavily armored figure about to swing down his weapon. The entire painting reminded her of the religious photos her mother shoved in her face to impress on her women’s wickedness and unholy existence. What caught her eye the most was not how the knight appeared defenseless against the menacing figure, it was a golden ring wrapped around the foe’s hand that clutched his own weapon.

“Not with your companions?” a voice inquired. Carrie jumped a little and turned her head to see Lord Elrond right beside her. How did the Elven lord of this refuge manage to sneak up on her, let alone slip past her telekinetic senses? The thought alone began to make her wonder if the elves were the equivalent of ninjas. It was enough for her to be impressed despite her deer-in-headlights expression. As if Lord Elrond could see into her thoughts a small smile formed on his face, letting her relax a little, and give a small smile back in return.

The Elven Lord turned his attention to the painting before them, his expression becoming reverent and solemn. It reminded Carrie of a preacher about to say his prayers before giving a sermon to his congregation.

“Too long have we fought for the peaceful era we have earned. But at what cost?” Elrond said, his expression becoming somber the longer he stared at the painting.

Glancing once more at the painting, Carrie was reminded of how she alone had killed her classmates in an uncontrollable rage. Could she be the same catalyst for the company’s inevitable doom? Would she become the enemy like the evil foe in the painting? Carrie didn’t know the answer to either question yet.

“I would be lying if I said that the entire company accepts me completely. I may have saved them from peril, but what if I become the danger they’re avoiding on this journey and everyone is denying the inevitable truth,” Carrie confessed as she had to rip her eyes off the painting for a few seconds to look at Elrond. “Even back in my world, I felt out of place no matter how many times I tried to be normal. There isn’t a day that goes by where I don’t think of what I went through. How the pain became unbearable to the point of making others suffer. Maybe it’s only a matter of time before the company, my friends, see me as a monster,” she added. The Elven Lord looked at Carrie, listening to her with an empathetic expression.

“Perhaps it is not that they fear you, but fear for you,” Elrond said.

Carrie took her eyes off the painting to glance at him once more, a million questions began to form in her mind. What was that phrasing supposed to mean? Did the company really think of her in that way? Or was that supposed to be a poor, cryptic explanation as to why the elves look at her with suspicion? Carrie did not know what to think and stayed silent, hoping Lord Elrond would explain himself. A small smile formed on Lord Elrond’s face and he turned his attention back to the painting.

“The longer you are in this world, the more you will find that nothing is ever as it appears. Others may find your gift a weapon too great for us to fathom, or they may think it is small in comparison to other existing powers. Either way, you helped bring your friends here safely. That itself is nothing to be taken lightly,” Elrond said. A small smile formed on Carrie’s face despite herself. She hadn’t expected those words of encouragement from him.

“No one in my entire life has ever called my powers a gift. Mama, when she knew what I could do, told me they came from the devil. That I was a witch and needed to be stoned to death,” Carrie admitted as she turned once more to the painting before her. A chuckle escaped Elrond, the smile remaining as he glanced over at her again.

“Your mother must not have encountered many witches or true evil in your world,” Elrond said as Carrie chuckled in agreement. Elrond turned away from the painting to face Carrie and placed a hand on her shoulder in comfort. Before Carrie could say a word, Elrond lifted his hand from her shoulder with a sympathetic look and walked away. Noting Elrond’s expression, Carrie wondered if there was more to her destiny in this world than she’d been told.

**If you or someone is experiencing a mental health crisis, has experienced severe depression, or has experienced a PTSD episode call the national suicide prevention lifeline (1-800-273-8255), text CONNECT or HOME to the crisis text line at 741741, or call 911**