Disclaimer: None of this is mine, nada. All belongs to Tolkien the Great except for any OCs and blunders.
Synopsis: [Middle-earth from a more sensible perspective] When you can't ride a horse or speak Westron, and realise that from your point of view, living conditions are positively medieval, the only thing on your mind is not stealing Aragorn, romancing Legolas or slaying Orcs. It's getting home where you belong.
Genre: Humour/Adventure
Written by: Myrielle
(Mis)Adventures in Middle-earth
I.
By all standards, today was a beautiful day. The sun was shining bright and warm but not overly so. The sky was a stunning shade of ocean blue and fat white clouds which reminded me of cotton candy drifted high above. It would have been a perfect day too, save for the fact that it was ten thirty in the morning in England and I was not in my hotel bed fast asleep but currently in the countryside trying to feel enthusiastic about the ruins of a medieval abbey.
"January!" Carrie yanked on my arm in her enthusiasm and came close to dislocating it as she stared up at the remains of a huge broken archway. "Isn't this the most beautiful thing ever?"
"I thought the medieval castle we saw yesterday was 'the most beautiful thing ever'," I mimicked her, pulling my arm away and feeling it gingerly. "Yeah, it is nice okay?" I conceded when she shot me a scowl. "I'm just not as into these old buildings as you are." Actually, at first sight the abbey was quite impressive. However, we had been walking around for close to half an hour now and the combined effects of lingering jet lag and general early morning crabbiness was starting to get to me.
"Old buildings?!"
Carrie started to puff up with indignation at what she perceived to be my gross lack of cultural appreciation and I hastily stuffed my fingers into my ears. "Not listening, not listening," I said in a singsong voice and chuckled as she shuddered.
"Please don't do that. You know Gollum gives me the creeps. I even had a nightmare about that wretched grey creature." Ever since she had watched The Two Towers, Carrie had been freaked out by Gollum, so much so that whenever she watched the DVD of the movie, she always zipped through half of it in an attempt to avoid his scenes.
"Oooh, the one in which he thought you were The Precious?" I cackled wickedly. "Imagine being Gollum's Precious. At least you will always have a devoted, fanatical worshipper. But you might have to live under a dark cold mountain with lots of bug-eyed fish—" I yelped as she lunged for me and scampered behind a pillar. "Oh come on, you're almost twenty-five and working! Hello? Gollum's really just a bunch of pixels acted out by an actor!"
"Yeah yeah, like you aren't afraid of the clown in Stephen King's "It"," she scoffed. "After all, he's just an actor with really bad make-up and false teeth."
"That's different," I said primly. "I was only a kid when I saw that show. My inner child remains traumatised."
Carrie rolled her blue-grey eyes at me. "Bullshit, January Jones and you know it. But coming back to the real subject at hand… How can you not feel even remotely enthusiastic about this? Don't you find it romantic?" She spread out her slim arms and did a little twirl, her honey blond hair catching the sunlight and making a few guys near us drool.
"You'll have to wait until I find my romantic bone first. Sure, I can appreciate that back then this building was an architectural marvel. It's got lots of history, I appreciate that. Romantic? Nope. Not in the least. Do you even know what things were like back in that era? No electricity, no hot showers, no flush system…" I shuddered. "And no toothpaste. Pardon me but I prefer the twenty-first century a lot more."
"You're hopeless," Carrie groaned. I just grinned.
"And you're a hopeless romantic."
"We couldn't be any more different."
"Which is why we are best friends going on a tour of Europe. And if I am not wrong, our tour-guide is disappearing into that part of the building. Better go catch up if you want to hear all about your 'romantic' abbey."
"Aren't you coming?"
"I already read the brochure." I ducked a cuff from her and chuckled as she quickly ran off after the group. Taking my camera out of my bag, I decided to take a few photos of the place for memory's sake. In trying to include the huge broken archway in the picture, I found myself having to move a lot further back than expected and ended up almost at the end of the perimeter of the abbey. When I'd finally snapped my shot, I turned around to check out the rest of the grounds and a low circle of broken stones slightly further up caught my eye. Curious, I walked towards it, wondering what it was. I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was really a well. The water was surprisingly clear, sparkling brightly under the sun, and there was no unpleasant smell (I had half expected it to be filled with weeds or green slime). As I leaned over the low edge of the well, I saw some strange looking characters carved into the stone. They bore a rather striking resemblance to the runes and Elvish writing that publishers of Tolkien books are so fond of sticking on the covers. "Well, that's not possible," I muttered doubtfully. Although I appreciated Tolkien's work as much as the next serious fan, I knew that Elvish was only an invented language. 'It's probably some form of Latin,' I thought and turned my attention back to the inside of the well. It was quite wide but not very deep, and I could see something shining at the bottom. It was a coin of some sort. And since it was still glinting brightly in the sun my guess was that a tourist had recently tossed it in the well and made a wish. "A wishing well!" I smiled, remembering the stories that I'd read about such wells as a kid.
Usually I wouldn't have done such a thing but before I knew it, I was reaching into my pocket for loose change. I felt a little foolish and childish for doing so but at that moment, the quaint appeal of the well won out and taking a penny, I tossed it in the air and watched as it landed with a splash in the water. Now I had to make a wish. What to wish for? "What else but great adventure?" I said half-mockingly. "As if…" Deciding that it was high time I got back to Carrie and the group, I bent down, intending to pick up my bag and camera. Only I hadn't counted on the sudden dizziness that came over me. My head felt so heavy I could hardly lift it and the world seemed to be swirling round and round. Trying to take deep breaths and convinced that I was about to pass out, I tried reaching for the side of the well to support myself. Bad idea. I miscalculated entirely, reached my hand out too high, grasped at the air and promptly toppled over into the well. I think I must have fainted as I hit the water.
Someone slapped my face hard and so it was that as I rapidly regained consciousness, I was keenly aware of the fact that I was not dead or drowning, which had really been the first questions that had sprung to mind. I was about to open my eyes when another slap landed on my other cheek and instinctively I flung out my arm to protect myself. My hand smacked hard against something and there was a loud exclamation. The first thing I saw as I pushed myself up into a sitting position was an extremely offended looking man clutching one eye and gazing accusingly at me with the other which I had thankfully not maimed as well. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," I apologised immediately, feeling my face flush hot with embarrassment. "Thanks for pulling me out of the well. I don't know what happened to me, I must have had some kind of dizzy spell," I babbled as I reached for him. "I hope I didn't hurt you too badly…" I stopped when he pulled away and rose swiftly to his feet. "Geez, I said I was sorry."
He said something that sounded completely unintelligible to me and I frowned, squinting up at him against the light that was coming through the tops of the trees. That was when I realised what was wrong. There were trees all around us. For one moment I just sat there, staring at the trees and thinking to myself that there had been a distinct lack of trees in the area when I had fallen into the well. It was then that the sound of rushing water finally registered and I turned to see myself sitting on the bank of what looked to be a very fast moving slender river. And the wishing well seemed to have disappeared. "Where's the well?" I asked him, feeling panicked for the first time. "Where am I?"
The man frowned and looked slightly baffled. "Hey, you were the one who got me out of the well. Where am I? Where have you taken me?" Suddenly my eyes widened in horror as I noticed the bow and quiver of arrows fastened at his back and the long knife at his side. The danger that I was in crashed right through my disorientation and I scrambled to my feet at once. Obviously this nut had dragged me out of the well and into some stupid forest near the abbey! "Don't you bloody touch me," I sputtered as I backed away, my brave words completely ruined by the naked fear in my voice.
The confused expression melted swiftly from his face and immediately he held up his hands, those dark blue eyes fixed on mine. He continued speaking to me and although I still couldn't understand a word, his tone was now gentle and I knew that he was trying to calm me down. I was deciding whether I should make a run for it or not when I noticed that he was dressed in the strangest fashion. He had a cloak (a cloak!) fastened around his shoulders with what looked like a very expensive brooch and was dressed in a soft green tunic and grey leggings with boots. Pale blond hair that was partly braided spilled over his shoulders like spun gold and I was wondering what kind of man wore braids like that when I noticed the pointed tips of his ears poking out beneath his hair. My throat went dry and goose bumps burst out all over my skin. There was just no way… absolutely no way that…"Oh God… You're an Elf," I whispered. Oh God, maybe I had died after all. Or maybe I was still dreaming. "Bloody hell," I swore for the lack of anything else to do and found myself shivering violently. When the Elf came over to take my arm, I didn't resist him; I wasn't even sure if I could stand on my own two feet. I knew I was suffering from shock but even then, one teeny part of me still refused to believe this was happening. So before he realised what I was doing, I reached out and tweaked the tip of his ear. Hard. The Elf yelped in pain before he knocked my hand away and said something that sounded terribly angry in Elvish.
I was staring absently at my hand, thinking to myself 'So the ears are real' when a thought occurred to me and I suddenly blurted out, "You wouldn't happen to be Legolas Greenleaf would you?" His eyes widened at the mention of the name and I had a sickening feeling that I had hit the nail on the head. "You," I pointed at him, "Legolas Thranduilion?" This time he nodded slowly, and I could see that he was getting wary as well. I seriously couldn't blame him. After all, he had rescued me (although how and where I hadn't a clue) and all I had done so far was to poke him in the eye, speak to him in English which he couldn't possibly understand, fly into a sudden panic and finally, try to pluck his ear off. And now I, a perfect stranger, had called him by his name.
Legolas looked at me for a good long while before motioning that I should follow him. Dumbly I obeyed, wondering whether I was in Mirkwood or Ithilien, and whether he had any dungeons like his father Thranduil. If he was anything like Thranduil, who had seemed like a very stern and no-nonsense Elf when I had read The Hobbit, I would be spending a lot of time underground.
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Author Notes: There you have it folks. Comments and Criticisms are most welcome, not mindless vague flames though. Pre-empting any comments I foresee that might criticise the speed (and lack of development) with which events occur, I must say that my attempts at elaboration created horrendous messes and so for now, I'll stick to this unless some kind soul or muse puts some ideas in my head.
Synopsis: [Middle-earth from a more sensible perspective] When you can't ride a horse or speak Westron, and realise that from your point of view, living conditions are positively medieval, the only thing on your mind is not stealing Aragorn, romancing Legolas or slaying Orcs. It's getting home where you belong.
Genre: Humour/Adventure
Written by: Myrielle
(Mis)Adventures in Middle-earth
I.
By all standards, today was a beautiful day. The sun was shining bright and warm but not overly so. The sky was a stunning shade of ocean blue and fat white clouds which reminded me of cotton candy drifted high above. It would have been a perfect day too, save for the fact that it was ten thirty in the morning in England and I was not in my hotel bed fast asleep but currently in the countryside trying to feel enthusiastic about the ruins of a medieval abbey.
"January!" Carrie yanked on my arm in her enthusiasm and came close to dislocating it as she stared up at the remains of a huge broken archway. "Isn't this the most beautiful thing ever?"
"I thought the medieval castle we saw yesterday was 'the most beautiful thing ever'," I mimicked her, pulling my arm away and feeling it gingerly. "Yeah, it is nice okay?" I conceded when she shot me a scowl. "I'm just not as into these old buildings as you are." Actually, at first sight the abbey was quite impressive. However, we had been walking around for close to half an hour now and the combined effects of lingering jet lag and general early morning crabbiness was starting to get to me.
"Old buildings?!"
Carrie started to puff up with indignation at what she perceived to be my gross lack of cultural appreciation and I hastily stuffed my fingers into my ears. "Not listening, not listening," I said in a singsong voice and chuckled as she shuddered.
"Please don't do that. You know Gollum gives me the creeps. I even had a nightmare about that wretched grey creature." Ever since she had watched The Two Towers, Carrie had been freaked out by Gollum, so much so that whenever she watched the DVD of the movie, she always zipped through half of it in an attempt to avoid his scenes.
"Oooh, the one in which he thought you were The Precious?" I cackled wickedly. "Imagine being Gollum's Precious. At least you will always have a devoted, fanatical worshipper. But you might have to live under a dark cold mountain with lots of bug-eyed fish—" I yelped as she lunged for me and scampered behind a pillar. "Oh come on, you're almost twenty-five and working! Hello? Gollum's really just a bunch of pixels acted out by an actor!"
"Yeah yeah, like you aren't afraid of the clown in Stephen King's "It"," she scoffed. "After all, he's just an actor with really bad make-up and false teeth."
"That's different," I said primly. "I was only a kid when I saw that show. My inner child remains traumatised."
Carrie rolled her blue-grey eyes at me. "Bullshit, January Jones and you know it. But coming back to the real subject at hand… How can you not feel even remotely enthusiastic about this? Don't you find it romantic?" She spread out her slim arms and did a little twirl, her honey blond hair catching the sunlight and making a few guys near us drool.
"You'll have to wait until I find my romantic bone first. Sure, I can appreciate that back then this building was an architectural marvel. It's got lots of history, I appreciate that. Romantic? Nope. Not in the least. Do you even know what things were like back in that era? No electricity, no hot showers, no flush system…" I shuddered. "And no toothpaste. Pardon me but I prefer the twenty-first century a lot more."
"You're hopeless," Carrie groaned. I just grinned.
"And you're a hopeless romantic."
"We couldn't be any more different."
"Which is why we are best friends going on a tour of Europe. And if I am not wrong, our tour-guide is disappearing into that part of the building. Better go catch up if you want to hear all about your 'romantic' abbey."
"Aren't you coming?"
"I already read the brochure." I ducked a cuff from her and chuckled as she quickly ran off after the group. Taking my camera out of my bag, I decided to take a few photos of the place for memory's sake. In trying to include the huge broken archway in the picture, I found myself having to move a lot further back than expected and ended up almost at the end of the perimeter of the abbey. When I'd finally snapped my shot, I turned around to check out the rest of the grounds and a low circle of broken stones slightly further up caught my eye. Curious, I walked towards it, wondering what it was. I was pleasantly surprised to see that it was really a well. The water was surprisingly clear, sparkling brightly under the sun, and there was no unpleasant smell (I had half expected it to be filled with weeds or green slime). As I leaned over the low edge of the well, I saw some strange looking characters carved into the stone. They bore a rather striking resemblance to the runes and Elvish writing that publishers of Tolkien books are so fond of sticking on the covers. "Well, that's not possible," I muttered doubtfully. Although I appreciated Tolkien's work as much as the next serious fan, I knew that Elvish was only an invented language. 'It's probably some form of Latin,' I thought and turned my attention back to the inside of the well. It was quite wide but not very deep, and I could see something shining at the bottom. It was a coin of some sort. And since it was still glinting brightly in the sun my guess was that a tourist had recently tossed it in the well and made a wish. "A wishing well!" I smiled, remembering the stories that I'd read about such wells as a kid.
Usually I wouldn't have done such a thing but before I knew it, I was reaching into my pocket for loose change. I felt a little foolish and childish for doing so but at that moment, the quaint appeal of the well won out and taking a penny, I tossed it in the air and watched as it landed with a splash in the water. Now I had to make a wish. What to wish for? "What else but great adventure?" I said half-mockingly. "As if…" Deciding that it was high time I got back to Carrie and the group, I bent down, intending to pick up my bag and camera. Only I hadn't counted on the sudden dizziness that came over me. My head felt so heavy I could hardly lift it and the world seemed to be swirling round and round. Trying to take deep breaths and convinced that I was about to pass out, I tried reaching for the side of the well to support myself. Bad idea. I miscalculated entirely, reached my hand out too high, grasped at the air and promptly toppled over into the well. I think I must have fainted as I hit the water.
Someone slapped my face hard and so it was that as I rapidly regained consciousness, I was keenly aware of the fact that I was not dead or drowning, which had really been the first questions that had sprung to mind. I was about to open my eyes when another slap landed on my other cheek and instinctively I flung out my arm to protect myself. My hand smacked hard against something and there was a loud exclamation. The first thing I saw as I pushed myself up into a sitting position was an extremely offended looking man clutching one eye and gazing accusingly at me with the other which I had thankfully not maimed as well. "Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to hurt you," I apologised immediately, feeling my face flush hot with embarrassment. "Thanks for pulling me out of the well. I don't know what happened to me, I must have had some kind of dizzy spell," I babbled as I reached for him. "I hope I didn't hurt you too badly…" I stopped when he pulled away and rose swiftly to his feet. "Geez, I said I was sorry."
He said something that sounded completely unintelligible to me and I frowned, squinting up at him against the light that was coming through the tops of the trees. That was when I realised what was wrong. There were trees all around us. For one moment I just sat there, staring at the trees and thinking to myself that there had been a distinct lack of trees in the area when I had fallen into the well. It was then that the sound of rushing water finally registered and I turned to see myself sitting on the bank of what looked to be a very fast moving slender river. And the wishing well seemed to have disappeared. "Where's the well?" I asked him, feeling panicked for the first time. "Where am I?"
The man frowned and looked slightly baffled. "Hey, you were the one who got me out of the well. Where am I? Where have you taken me?" Suddenly my eyes widened in horror as I noticed the bow and quiver of arrows fastened at his back and the long knife at his side. The danger that I was in crashed right through my disorientation and I scrambled to my feet at once. Obviously this nut had dragged me out of the well and into some stupid forest near the abbey! "Don't you bloody touch me," I sputtered as I backed away, my brave words completely ruined by the naked fear in my voice.
The confused expression melted swiftly from his face and immediately he held up his hands, those dark blue eyes fixed on mine. He continued speaking to me and although I still couldn't understand a word, his tone was now gentle and I knew that he was trying to calm me down. I was deciding whether I should make a run for it or not when I noticed that he was dressed in the strangest fashion. He had a cloak (a cloak!) fastened around his shoulders with what looked like a very expensive brooch and was dressed in a soft green tunic and grey leggings with boots. Pale blond hair that was partly braided spilled over his shoulders like spun gold and I was wondering what kind of man wore braids like that when I noticed the pointed tips of his ears poking out beneath his hair. My throat went dry and goose bumps burst out all over my skin. There was just no way… absolutely no way that…"Oh God… You're an Elf," I whispered. Oh God, maybe I had died after all. Or maybe I was still dreaming. "Bloody hell," I swore for the lack of anything else to do and found myself shivering violently. When the Elf came over to take my arm, I didn't resist him; I wasn't even sure if I could stand on my own two feet. I knew I was suffering from shock but even then, one teeny part of me still refused to believe this was happening. So before he realised what I was doing, I reached out and tweaked the tip of his ear. Hard. The Elf yelped in pain before he knocked my hand away and said something that sounded terribly angry in Elvish.
I was staring absently at my hand, thinking to myself 'So the ears are real' when a thought occurred to me and I suddenly blurted out, "You wouldn't happen to be Legolas Greenleaf would you?" His eyes widened at the mention of the name and I had a sickening feeling that I had hit the nail on the head. "You," I pointed at him, "Legolas Thranduilion?" This time he nodded slowly, and I could see that he was getting wary as well. I seriously couldn't blame him. After all, he had rescued me (although how and where I hadn't a clue) and all I had done so far was to poke him in the eye, speak to him in English which he couldn't possibly understand, fly into a sudden panic and finally, try to pluck his ear off. And now I, a perfect stranger, had called him by his name.
Legolas looked at me for a good long while before motioning that I should follow him. Dumbly I obeyed, wondering whether I was in Mirkwood or Ithilien, and whether he had any dungeons like his father Thranduil. If he was anything like Thranduil, who had seemed like a very stern and no-nonsense Elf when I had read The Hobbit, I would be spending a lot of time underground.
--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Author Notes: There you have it folks. Comments and Criticisms are most welcome, not mindless vague flames though. Pre-empting any comments I foresee that might criticise the speed (and lack of development) with which events occur, I must say that my attempts at elaboration created horrendous messes and so for now, I'll stick to this unless some kind soul or muse puts some ideas in my head.