Disclaimer: Lord of The Rings was brilliantly written by J.R.R. Tolkien.
And I don't make money out of this. Recognise a character? Then it belongs
to this mastermind.
SHORT NOTE:
Hi there! Look, look, a new story!!!! And all made up by. . . could it be. . . me! Okay, enough me being dramatic.
This is a Lord of The Rings story. There will probably be spelling mistakes in it (seeing as I come from Belgium and English isn't my mother tongue). You're welcome to point out the obvious mistakes. I'm also not a very good writer, but I might be biased.
I also would like to point out that, although I'm a fan of Lord of The Rings, I don't know much details. I've read the 3 books, and seen the 2 movies, but that doesn't mean there won't be mistakes in timeline or such in this story. You may correct them, but it might be that I did it on purpose. Besides, it is possible AU.
Last, but not least: I'm going to use my imagination and own experience in this story. This story MIGHT CONTAIN A MARY-SUE! Frankly, I don't really know what a Mary-Sue is, though I could probably guess. If you could give me a /short/ description of what a Mary-Sue is, then I would be most grateful.
Enjoy
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
It's all in the soul
Chapter 1: Dead, yet alive
She was walking down the road, going home after having spent a night of fun with her friends. Yes, she had consumed some alcohol, but not enough to cloud her vision or sway her from her steps. She was watching the road and the shops, the few placed trees and the few cars that were still driving at this time of the night. Yes, she lived in this world of technology, and wasn't malcontent. In fact, she was quite happy with the life she had. She may not be called pretty, she may not have a lot of friends, but she was content with herself and the few friends she had were true and trustworthy and loyal. She was 17 years old, with shoulder length brown hair, and green- brownish eyes. It was nothing special, really. A face you could easily forget. She didn't have a slim figure, but she wasn't fat either.
Catherine, or cat for short, was also looking at the stars, impressed once again by its beauty. She was thinking about aliens and other worlds. Did they exist? Or was it just a wish so many held? She wanted to believe that there were other worlds. She liked to fantasize. Create worlds in her own mind, with her being a princess or a heroine. She was just a dreamer, and she knew it. Yet living in this technology-filled world also gave her a firm grasp of reality.
Catherine crossed the street leading to her home, still watching the moon and the stars. Unfortunately she did not hear or see the car coming in her direction, trying to hit the brakes. But to no avail. Seconds later the body of Catherine could be seen sprawled on the street. Blood was surrounding her. Her breathing was shallow. She could hear terrified shouts, and some time later, a siren. But her mind was fogged, and nothing made sense to her. Her breathing hitched. She could feel her life force ebbing away from her. One last thought became clear in her mind:
I'm dying. . .
Her breathing stopped, and she was no more. . .
Or was she?
**********
"Lord Elrond! Lord Elrond!"
Elrond was sitting quietly in his chair, reading a book about the history of Middle-Earth, when he was disturbed by the shouting of a servant of his. He calmly closed the book and put it on the table before turning to face the servant.
"Lord Elrond! She has awakened!"
Elrond closed his eyes as emotion whirled around in him. Could it be? Could it really be? He had lost all hope for her to wake from her deep impenetrable sleep. Not many elves knew of this, but in reality, he had 4 children: the twins, Elohir and elladan, Arwen, and another daughter, who is yet to be named. But the youngest child had fallen in a slumber, almost immediately after birth. The only way they knew she was alive was by her strong draws of breath. But there was something unnatural by the way she slept. Elves sleep with their eyes open, but her eyes were closed. And because she was not yet really living, they decided to name her when she would wake from her slumber, her deep sleep.
Elrond could not just sit around, doing nothing. So he taught her the things he would have taught her anyway. He talked to her, he read to her and he conveyed his love for her. But it seemed as if that weren't enough. Many years passed by, and her body grew older, but yet she would not wake. Still, Elrond visited her every night, even if it were just to sit by her side for a minute.
And now she had awakened.
Could it be true?
Dare he hope?
"Bring me to her."
**********
She was slowly blinking her eyes, trying to find out were she was. The fourth daughter of Elrond sat up slowly, holding her head, trying to 'push' her headache away. Didn't really help, if she had to be honest. She looked around and saw that she was sitting in a beautifully crafted bed, with stunning white sheets. The room was also white, containing a table and a chair, which were, well, beautiful. And the people in her room were also beautiful. And handsome. And stunning. They were gorgeous, really. They were talking to each other, but she did not understand them. Their language was a caress to her ears, but very much foreign.
She saw how someone else entered the room, this one having long brown her, instead of the blond of the others in the room. He looked at her, and she would swear she saw something similar like tears in his eyes. He turned to the servants, said something, and the servants left. Then he spoke to her, in the same flowing language the others had spoken, but she did not understand. She was confused and scared.
What was going on?
**********
Elrond entered the room that was hers, the room of the fourth daughter. He noticed that there were 3 servants there, discussing among themselves, not really knowing what to do. He paid no attention to them. His daughter was more important. His eyes searched her, and he was overjoyed when he saw that, indeed, she was awake. He could feel tears forming in his eyes, but he was not going to let them fall, for it was a joyous day. He turned around and told the servants to leave. They did as he asked.
He looked back at his daughter, and took in her appearance. She had dark brown hair, so dark that you would believe it to be black and pale bleu eyes that reminded you of ice. Even among the elves she was considered fairer then most. But so was Arwen.
"It fills me with joy to see you awake, my daughter."
She did not answer. Why didn't she answer? Elrond looked in her eyes and saw confusion and fear in them. Why did she fear him, her father?
"Why do you fear me?"
Still she did not answer. Did she not understand him?
**********
She was still looking at the brown-haired man. She did not know the man, but she had a feeling that she should have known him. It was all strange to her, and it was all she could do not to panic. Again the man spoke.
And again she did not understand.
He had tried to speak to her. Perhaps now she had to try and speak to him.
"Who are you and were am I?"
The man looked startled. As if he had not expected her to speak, but that was ridiculous. He /had/ expected her to speak before, so why not now? Or was it the language she spoke in, so different from his flowing language?
"I am Elrond. You are in Imladris, otherwise known as Rivendel."
It was an unsatisfying answer. She still didn't know anything.
Elrond had been startled by her choice of language. Why did she speak in the tongue of Man, and not Elfish? That had been the language he always spoke to her. Yet he decided to answer her in her choice of language. And now she was thinking. She looked a bit annoyed. Then she asked something else, something he found very strange.
"Who am I to you?"
It was a very strange question indeed.
"You are my daughter as I am your father."
"And my name would be. . .?"
He had thought about her name. He would name her Little Dreamer. And so he told her her name. She was shocked, he could clearly she it. But he would receive a bigger shock, for her answer was:
"But that can't be! My name is Catherine!
*
*
*
How was it? Is it interesting enough to keep writing? Please review!
*
*
*
SHORT NOTE:
Hi there! Look, look, a new story!!!! And all made up by. . . could it be. . . me! Okay, enough me being dramatic.
This is a Lord of The Rings story. There will probably be spelling mistakes in it (seeing as I come from Belgium and English isn't my mother tongue). You're welcome to point out the obvious mistakes. I'm also not a very good writer, but I might be biased.
I also would like to point out that, although I'm a fan of Lord of The Rings, I don't know much details. I've read the 3 books, and seen the 2 movies, but that doesn't mean there won't be mistakes in timeline or such in this story. You may correct them, but it might be that I did it on purpose. Besides, it is possible AU.
Last, but not least: I'm going to use my imagination and own experience in this story. This story MIGHT CONTAIN A MARY-SUE! Frankly, I don't really know what a Mary-Sue is, though I could probably guess. If you could give me a /short/ description of what a Mary-Sue is, then I would be most grateful.
Enjoy
*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*_*
It's all in the soul
Chapter 1: Dead, yet alive
She was walking down the road, going home after having spent a night of fun with her friends. Yes, she had consumed some alcohol, but not enough to cloud her vision or sway her from her steps. She was watching the road and the shops, the few placed trees and the few cars that were still driving at this time of the night. Yes, she lived in this world of technology, and wasn't malcontent. In fact, she was quite happy with the life she had. She may not be called pretty, she may not have a lot of friends, but she was content with herself and the few friends she had were true and trustworthy and loyal. She was 17 years old, with shoulder length brown hair, and green- brownish eyes. It was nothing special, really. A face you could easily forget. She didn't have a slim figure, but she wasn't fat either.
Catherine, or cat for short, was also looking at the stars, impressed once again by its beauty. She was thinking about aliens and other worlds. Did they exist? Or was it just a wish so many held? She wanted to believe that there were other worlds. She liked to fantasize. Create worlds in her own mind, with her being a princess or a heroine. She was just a dreamer, and she knew it. Yet living in this technology-filled world also gave her a firm grasp of reality.
Catherine crossed the street leading to her home, still watching the moon and the stars. Unfortunately she did not hear or see the car coming in her direction, trying to hit the brakes. But to no avail. Seconds later the body of Catherine could be seen sprawled on the street. Blood was surrounding her. Her breathing was shallow. She could hear terrified shouts, and some time later, a siren. But her mind was fogged, and nothing made sense to her. Her breathing hitched. She could feel her life force ebbing away from her. One last thought became clear in her mind:
I'm dying. . .
Her breathing stopped, and she was no more. . .
Or was she?
**********
"Lord Elrond! Lord Elrond!"
Elrond was sitting quietly in his chair, reading a book about the history of Middle-Earth, when he was disturbed by the shouting of a servant of his. He calmly closed the book and put it on the table before turning to face the servant.
"Lord Elrond! She has awakened!"
Elrond closed his eyes as emotion whirled around in him. Could it be? Could it really be? He had lost all hope for her to wake from her deep impenetrable sleep. Not many elves knew of this, but in reality, he had 4 children: the twins, Elohir and elladan, Arwen, and another daughter, who is yet to be named. But the youngest child had fallen in a slumber, almost immediately after birth. The only way they knew she was alive was by her strong draws of breath. But there was something unnatural by the way she slept. Elves sleep with their eyes open, but her eyes were closed. And because she was not yet really living, they decided to name her when she would wake from her slumber, her deep sleep.
Elrond could not just sit around, doing nothing. So he taught her the things he would have taught her anyway. He talked to her, he read to her and he conveyed his love for her. But it seemed as if that weren't enough. Many years passed by, and her body grew older, but yet she would not wake. Still, Elrond visited her every night, even if it were just to sit by her side for a minute.
And now she had awakened.
Could it be true?
Dare he hope?
"Bring me to her."
**********
She was slowly blinking her eyes, trying to find out were she was. The fourth daughter of Elrond sat up slowly, holding her head, trying to 'push' her headache away. Didn't really help, if she had to be honest. She looked around and saw that she was sitting in a beautifully crafted bed, with stunning white sheets. The room was also white, containing a table and a chair, which were, well, beautiful. And the people in her room were also beautiful. And handsome. And stunning. They were gorgeous, really. They were talking to each other, but she did not understand them. Their language was a caress to her ears, but very much foreign.
She saw how someone else entered the room, this one having long brown her, instead of the blond of the others in the room. He looked at her, and she would swear she saw something similar like tears in his eyes. He turned to the servants, said something, and the servants left. Then he spoke to her, in the same flowing language the others had spoken, but she did not understand. She was confused and scared.
What was going on?
**********
Elrond entered the room that was hers, the room of the fourth daughter. He noticed that there were 3 servants there, discussing among themselves, not really knowing what to do. He paid no attention to them. His daughter was more important. His eyes searched her, and he was overjoyed when he saw that, indeed, she was awake. He could feel tears forming in his eyes, but he was not going to let them fall, for it was a joyous day. He turned around and told the servants to leave. They did as he asked.
He looked back at his daughter, and took in her appearance. She had dark brown hair, so dark that you would believe it to be black and pale bleu eyes that reminded you of ice. Even among the elves she was considered fairer then most. But so was Arwen.
"It fills me with joy to see you awake, my daughter."
She did not answer. Why didn't she answer? Elrond looked in her eyes and saw confusion and fear in them. Why did she fear him, her father?
"Why do you fear me?"
Still she did not answer. Did she not understand him?
**********
She was still looking at the brown-haired man. She did not know the man, but she had a feeling that she should have known him. It was all strange to her, and it was all she could do not to panic. Again the man spoke.
And again she did not understand.
He had tried to speak to her. Perhaps now she had to try and speak to him.
"Who are you and were am I?"
The man looked startled. As if he had not expected her to speak, but that was ridiculous. He /had/ expected her to speak before, so why not now? Or was it the language she spoke in, so different from his flowing language?
"I am Elrond. You are in Imladris, otherwise known as Rivendel."
It was an unsatisfying answer. She still didn't know anything.
Elrond had been startled by her choice of language. Why did she speak in the tongue of Man, and not Elfish? That had been the language he always spoke to her. Yet he decided to answer her in her choice of language. And now she was thinking. She looked a bit annoyed. Then she asked something else, something he found very strange.
"Who am I to you?"
It was a very strange question indeed.
"You are my daughter as I am your father."
"And my name would be. . .?"
He had thought about her name. He would name her Little Dreamer. And so he told her her name. She was shocked, he could clearly she it. But he would receive a bigger shock, for her answer was:
"But that can't be! My name is Catherine!
*
*
*
How was it? Is it interesting enough to keep writing? Please review!
*
*
*