A/N: As an apology from an extreme lack of fic updating and etc., I give you a major jump from my usual works. This is a girl in Middle Earth fic, only with a few changes; it is indeed me, I'm not going to pretend it's not and waste your time, these stories are self-insertion most of the time anyways. Also, it's not full-frontal humor like I usually do. No no, Blynky's doing depression now! Yaaay! Fun fun fun eh kids? Yeup. And please don't bug me about something like "That setting/place is incorrect"/"The characters wouldn't say/act like that"/"This isn't written Tolkien-style"/etc., because people, that is DARN annoying and I really could care less. Just don't waste your breath. Just read it, review it for what it is and not its faults, and enjoy. Remember, I'm new in the angst department. Oh, and the 'theme song' (I guess you could call it that) for this be "Hemorrhage (In my Hands)" by Fuel (hence the title) Thank you.
Disclaimer: All characters, names, dates, places, etc. belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. Blynk's my own creation, heck she's me. How can you steal a real person? Exactly, you can't. So shuddap!
Dedicated to-
Kirryn; Because you'll support me no matter what cra-ay-zy LotR thing I do. I got yo back, sista! XD
Morwen; Your depressing fics inspired me, ya could say. Thank you, o mighty X-Ev angst queen, haw haw ::cough::
Love Lies Bleeding
"Memories are just where you laid them. Drag the waters 'till the depths give up their dead. What did you expect to find? Was there something you left behind? Don't you remember anything I said when I said don't fall away, and leave me to myself. Don't fall away and leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands again. Leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands. Love lies bleeding."
-Fuel; Hemorrhage
When she finally woke up, she felt as though she had been hit by a very large and extremely heavy object, similar to that of a MAC truck. She groaned, and felt the roughness of hard, cold pavement beneath her. As she made to stand up, she quickly put a hand to her head, which was buzzing. She squinted, but couldn't make much out, except that it was dark out, but foggy; her vision was a tad blurred. So she sat for a moment, trying to let her head recover. She was grateful for the cool night air. It seemed to relieve some of the pain as it breezed by, flowing through her long brown hair. One of her long bangs fell in her face, and she blew at it annoyed. After blinking a few times, she concluded that she could indeed see, and slowly stood up. She stumbled a bit, but straightened out.
"What the heck-?" she thought aloud, voice sounding puzzled. She found that she was indeed on a street, it was night out, and the air was thick with fog. So bad, that she couldn't even see five feet in front of her. And the only reason she could see what because of the light that came from the full moon, lazily hanging in the sky. She envied it almost, in a way.
"Where am I?" she whispered to herself. Her green eyes searched around, peering curiously. But what was the use? The fog concealed all. Her mind was asking a million questions all at once. Where am I? How did I get here? Why am I here? Where was I before this?
She shook her head, chasing the questions away. They seemed to hurt her head. Instead, she tried to think logically. "Perhaps there's a house nearby. Maybe someone will hear me."
"Hello? Hello?! Is anybody there?! Can anybody hear me?!" She called out to the darkness, and there came no answer. Unless you counted the eerie silence. She tried yelling a few more times, but still nothing. The panic started to creep up on her.
"Maybe, there's a road nearby, that leads into town…" she said quietly. She started walking, but which way? She walked in a random direction, but suddenly drew back in the fear that there might be a large hole in the ground. She couldn't see after all. She cursed, angry that she was stuck here, clueless. It's hard to think straight when you're lost in the dark and you can barely see. Fear seizes you.
She gave a long, aggravated sigh, and sat down, hugging herself.
"I'll just, wait here, until the fog clears…" the 18 year old thought. "At least then I can see…"
So she sat, glancing around. A cloud drifted, covering the moon, and the light dwindled. She was scared to death. If you looked at her, you wouldn't notice. She had planned on becoming an actress anyways. Closing her eyes, she tried to think of something happy. She had read once, in a book, that if you thought of something you loved, it could drive fear from the mind. So she concentrated on something she loved; Tolkien. Ah yes, she was a Tolkien fan. And a large one at that. A good lot of her vocabulary consisted of hobbits, elves, wizards, and the like. Obsessed, yes. Insane, no. But she was a smart girl, knew right from wrong, and that was all that mattered.
At length, she looked up. Tears graced her beautiful face. She looked lost, and so completely alone. She was stranded with nothing. What was she going to do?
The hated cloud hifted in the sky, exposing the moon, which now hung even higher in the sky. The light re-appeared, dancing across the ground.
"Thank God," she whispered. She did not like the darkness. It frightened her, not being able to see things of possible danger. But then something else happen. The fog was startening to lessen. She stared, watching it slowly disappear, as though melting into thin air. In a minute flat, it was completely gone.
"How utterly strange…" her voice murmured. She stood up, very slowly, and looked ahead. In that direction, the road moved upward into a hill. The moon was hanging over it, and it seemed as though the fog had moved up there, clumped together almost. She turned and saw that behind her, the road went straight, and up another hill. On both sides, the road was lined by a thick forest. No signs, no indications, nothing. Where was she?
She felt a shiver go up her spine, and she went to rub her hands together. She stopped. She gawked. She was wearing gloves. Thin, gray gloves. The fingers, cut off at the knuckle, just the way she would have had it. And then she noticed her sleeves. Long, gray ones. Wide at the ends. She was wearing a gray cloak. She pulled up the sleeve, and found another, only blue, and lined with silver at the end. A robe. Instinctively, she looked down at her feet. She was wearing thick, brown leather boots. But there was something on her leg as well. She lifted up her cloak and robes, and stared, as she looked at a knife strapped to her leg. And around her waist, a belt, and attached to that…
"Oh my…" her voice cracking as she spoke. She had just pulled out a long, slender sword from a leather sheath. The gleam reflected in her eyes, wide with wonder. Looking at it closely, she saw a weird writing engraved in it. She knew very well what it was right away. Elvish. What it said, she had no idea. She put it back in its sheath.
'What is going on???'
Her ears strained. The noise, what was it? It had sounded like a tap, coming from very far off. She squinted, frustrated. She could hear more tapping, but it was becoming clearer. …A horse? That's what it sounded like at least. And it seemed to be coming closers and closer, up the hill below the moon.
She turned to look, and a severe chill went through her, crawling up her spine. She suddenly doubled over. It felt as though she was being stabbed with several pieces with ice. She couldn't breathe. She choked for air, and felt herself breakout with cold sweat. Her head buzzed violently, like she was being spun around in a circle. She couldn't see, the pain was so bad. It felt like poison dripping down her throat. She could taste the blood in her mouth. She screamed soundlessly, not even being able to cry, the pain was so immense. Then, all at once, it stopped. Just… stopped.
She sat on the ground, breathing heavily, gasping for air. Her eyes were wide with horror and disturbance. She just sat there, gulping in the night air, without a clue in the world of what had hit there. She felt like she had just recovered from a nasty fever.
After a spell, she stood up. She felt perfectly fine, but shocked. Just stunned. As she listened, she heard the noise again, the noise of the horse. It seemed to echo throughout the air. She stared up at the hill silently, waiting, just waiting. Then the echo dulled to one sound, of just one horse. Then she saw, and nearly died. It was a horse. A large, black horse, walking up from behind the hill. Mounted on it was a person, wearing a long, black cloak, completely covered. The face was not visible. And she knew. It was a Black Rider.
Her eyes widened again, though with a greater affect this time. She breathed heavily, and another shiver went through the spine. She could feel the ice coming on, feel the tears forming in her eyes. She wanted to scream, the wanted to run, run as far away as possible and just get out. But she couldn't. She could not move. Her will was gone. The only thing to keep her company now was the Black Rider. She was alone with death.
The rider stood still as could be on the top of the hill, outlined by the dark black sky. He stared her down. He too, seemed to be waiting. But then another sound came. Another horse. Gawking, she saw another Black Rider appear from behind the hill, just as dark, just as silent, and just as frigtening. He stood next to the other Rider and waited. And then there came another one, and he did just the same. The two new ones stood motionless, waiting, next to the first, which she guessed to be their leader; their Lord.
"Just run!" her mind screamed. But no, she didn't. She couldn't.
And then came another rider. Then another. And another. Until there were nine of them, nine standing up there on top of the hill, waiting, like she, waiting for a moment to come. And then, the leader drew out his sword. A long, and horrible silver sword, that shined evily, and made a deadly sound as he slid it out. She froze. The other riders took out their swords as well. And the leader slowly raised his sword, high into the air. The other eight raised their own. Then, she screamed.
Blynk ran, ran as fast as she could, harder than she had ever done in her life. The cloak and robe did not make it any easier for her, nor did the sword at her side, which wavered as she ran, hitting against her leg. There would be a bruise there later. She turned her head for a split second and screamed. The Nazgûl were indeed chasing her, their swords raised, glinting in the moonlight, mocking her tears. She could hear the steady breathing of their horses, hear the metal swishing, hear their deadly cries. They were gaining. She put on a burst of speed, and suddenly ran off the side of the road, into the forest. She could hardly see anything. Hopefully, the trees would make it harder for the Ringwraiths to follow. As she ran, the small edges of trees clawed at her cloak, making little rips at the edges. Once, she tripped over a rock and fell down, hard into the dirt. She felt the warm blood on her lip. Quickly, she jumped up and continued running, even faster than before. She had absolutely no clue where she was going or what she was going to do when she got there. All she knew was that she had to get as far away as possible, and fast.
She could hear screaming inside her head, not sure if it was even her own. She looked back again. They were catching up, only 10 feet away, at most. She ran straight-on, into the darkness. But then she saw a light. It slowly got brighter as she ran forward.
'If I get to the light, I'll be safe' something inside her said. She went with that thought. She sprinted now. The light became brighter, and brighter and brighter, until it was just a blinding wall in the middle of the forest. 5 feet away now. She clenched her teeth. Ran forward. She reached the light, and jumped.
She couldn't see anything, all around her was blinding light. Her scream was unheard.
Then she fell. She hit the ground, which was dirt, and lay on her side in a heap. She breathed heavily again, just lying there helplessly. She listened. Silence. She listened some more. Still silence. The Nazgûl had not followed. She had escaped.
She exhaled, and let her head just drop to the ground, eyes closed. She lay there unconscious, looking half-dead. The night breeze gracefully trailed over her body, and the stars overhead winked at her in the night sky.
Blynk had won the first battle.
Disclaimer: All characters, names, dates, places, etc. belong to J.R.R. Tolkien. Blynk's my own creation, heck she's me. How can you steal a real person? Exactly, you can't. So shuddap!
Dedicated to-
Kirryn; Because you'll support me no matter what cra-ay-zy LotR thing I do. I got yo back, sista! XD
Morwen; Your depressing fics inspired me, ya could say. Thank you, o mighty X-Ev angst queen, haw haw ::cough::
Love Lies Bleeding
"Memories are just where you laid them. Drag the waters 'till the depths give up their dead. What did you expect to find? Was there something you left behind? Don't you remember anything I said when I said don't fall away, and leave me to myself. Don't fall away and leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands again. Leave love bleeding in my hands, in my hands. Love lies bleeding."
-Fuel; Hemorrhage
When she finally woke up, she felt as though she had been hit by a very large and extremely heavy object, similar to that of a MAC truck. She groaned, and felt the roughness of hard, cold pavement beneath her. As she made to stand up, she quickly put a hand to her head, which was buzzing. She squinted, but couldn't make much out, except that it was dark out, but foggy; her vision was a tad blurred. So she sat for a moment, trying to let her head recover. She was grateful for the cool night air. It seemed to relieve some of the pain as it breezed by, flowing through her long brown hair. One of her long bangs fell in her face, and she blew at it annoyed. After blinking a few times, she concluded that she could indeed see, and slowly stood up. She stumbled a bit, but straightened out.
"What the heck-?" she thought aloud, voice sounding puzzled. She found that she was indeed on a street, it was night out, and the air was thick with fog. So bad, that she couldn't even see five feet in front of her. And the only reason she could see what because of the light that came from the full moon, lazily hanging in the sky. She envied it almost, in a way.
"Where am I?" she whispered to herself. Her green eyes searched around, peering curiously. But what was the use? The fog concealed all. Her mind was asking a million questions all at once. Where am I? How did I get here? Why am I here? Where was I before this?
She shook her head, chasing the questions away. They seemed to hurt her head. Instead, she tried to think logically. "Perhaps there's a house nearby. Maybe someone will hear me."
"Hello? Hello?! Is anybody there?! Can anybody hear me?!" She called out to the darkness, and there came no answer. Unless you counted the eerie silence. She tried yelling a few more times, but still nothing. The panic started to creep up on her.
"Maybe, there's a road nearby, that leads into town…" she said quietly. She started walking, but which way? She walked in a random direction, but suddenly drew back in the fear that there might be a large hole in the ground. She couldn't see after all. She cursed, angry that she was stuck here, clueless. It's hard to think straight when you're lost in the dark and you can barely see. Fear seizes you.
She gave a long, aggravated sigh, and sat down, hugging herself.
"I'll just, wait here, until the fog clears…" the 18 year old thought. "At least then I can see…"
So she sat, glancing around. A cloud drifted, covering the moon, and the light dwindled. She was scared to death. If you looked at her, you wouldn't notice. She had planned on becoming an actress anyways. Closing her eyes, she tried to think of something happy. She had read once, in a book, that if you thought of something you loved, it could drive fear from the mind. So she concentrated on something she loved; Tolkien. Ah yes, she was a Tolkien fan. And a large one at that. A good lot of her vocabulary consisted of hobbits, elves, wizards, and the like. Obsessed, yes. Insane, no. But she was a smart girl, knew right from wrong, and that was all that mattered.
At length, she looked up. Tears graced her beautiful face. She looked lost, and so completely alone. She was stranded with nothing. What was she going to do?
The hated cloud hifted in the sky, exposing the moon, which now hung even higher in the sky. The light re-appeared, dancing across the ground.
"Thank God," she whispered. She did not like the darkness. It frightened her, not being able to see things of possible danger. But then something else happen. The fog was startening to lessen. She stared, watching it slowly disappear, as though melting into thin air. In a minute flat, it was completely gone.
"How utterly strange…" her voice murmured. She stood up, very slowly, and looked ahead. In that direction, the road moved upward into a hill. The moon was hanging over it, and it seemed as though the fog had moved up there, clumped together almost. She turned and saw that behind her, the road went straight, and up another hill. On both sides, the road was lined by a thick forest. No signs, no indications, nothing. Where was she?
She felt a shiver go up her spine, and she went to rub her hands together. She stopped. She gawked. She was wearing gloves. Thin, gray gloves. The fingers, cut off at the knuckle, just the way she would have had it. And then she noticed her sleeves. Long, gray ones. Wide at the ends. She was wearing a gray cloak. She pulled up the sleeve, and found another, only blue, and lined with silver at the end. A robe. Instinctively, she looked down at her feet. She was wearing thick, brown leather boots. But there was something on her leg as well. She lifted up her cloak and robes, and stared, as she looked at a knife strapped to her leg. And around her waist, a belt, and attached to that…
"Oh my…" her voice cracking as she spoke. She had just pulled out a long, slender sword from a leather sheath. The gleam reflected in her eyes, wide with wonder. Looking at it closely, she saw a weird writing engraved in it. She knew very well what it was right away. Elvish. What it said, she had no idea. She put it back in its sheath.
'What is going on???'
Her ears strained. The noise, what was it? It had sounded like a tap, coming from very far off. She squinted, frustrated. She could hear more tapping, but it was becoming clearer. …A horse? That's what it sounded like at least. And it seemed to be coming closers and closer, up the hill below the moon.
She turned to look, and a severe chill went through her, crawling up her spine. She suddenly doubled over. It felt as though she was being stabbed with several pieces with ice. She couldn't breathe. She choked for air, and felt herself breakout with cold sweat. Her head buzzed violently, like she was being spun around in a circle. She couldn't see, the pain was so bad. It felt like poison dripping down her throat. She could taste the blood in her mouth. She screamed soundlessly, not even being able to cry, the pain was so immense. Then, all at once, it stopped. Just… stopped.
She sat on the ground, breathing heavily, gasping for air. Her eyes were wide with horror and disturbance. She just sat there, gulping in the night air, without a clue in the world of what had hit there. She felt like she had just recovered from a nasty fever.
After a spell, she stood up. She felt perfectly fine, but shocked. Just stunned. As she listened, she heard the noise again, the noise of the horse. It seemed to echo throughout the air. She stared up at the hill silently, waiting, just waiting. Then the echo dulled to one sound, of just one horse. Then she saw, and nearly died. It was a horse. A large, black horse, walking up from behind the hill. Mounted on it was a person, wearing a long, black cloak, completely covered. The face was not visible. And she knew. It was a Black Rider.
Her eyes widened again, though with a greater affect this time. She breathed heavily, and another shiver went through the spine. She could feel the ice coming on, feel the tears forming in her eyes. She wanted to scream, the wanted to run, run as far away as possible and just get out. But she couldn't. She could not move. Her will was gone. The only thing to keep her company now was the Black Rider. She was alone with death.
The rider stood still as could be on the top of the hill, outlined by the dark black sky. He stared her down. He too, seemed to be waiting. But then another sound came. Another horse. Gawking, she saw another Black Rider appear from behind the hill, just as dark, just as silent, and just as frigtening. He stood next to the other Rider and waited. And then there came another one, and he did just the same. The two new ones stood motionless, waiting, next to the first, which she guessed to be their leader; their Lord.
"Just run!" her mind screamed. But no, she didn't. She couldn't.
And then came another rider. Then another. And another. Until there were nine of them, nine standing up there on top of the hill, waiting, like she, waiting for a moment to come. And then, the leader drew out his sword. A long, and horrible silver sword, that shined evily, and made a deadly sound as he slid it out. She froze. The other riders took out their swords as well. And the leader slowly raised his sword, high into the air. The other eight raised their own. Then, she screamed.
Blynk ran, ran as fast as she could, harder than she had ever done in her life. The cloak and robe did not make it any easier for her, nor did the sword at her side, which wavered as she ran, hitting against her leg. There would be a bruise there later. She turned her head for a split second and screamed. The Nazgûl were indeed chasing her, their swords raised, glinting in the moonlight, mocking her tears. She could hear the steady breathing of their horses, hear the metal swishing, hear their deadly cries. They were gaining. She put on a burst of speed, and suddenly ran off the side of the road, into the forest. She could hardly see anything. Hopefully, the trees would make it harder for the Ringwraiths to follow. As she ran, the small edges of trees clawed at her cloak, making little rips at the edges. Once, she tripped over a rock and fell down, hard into the dirt. She felt the warm blood on her lip. Quickly, she jumped up and continued running, even faster than before. She had absolutely no clue where she was going or what she was going to do when she got there. All she knew was that she had to get as far away as possible, and fast.
She could hear screaming inside her head, not sure if it was even her own. She looked back again. They were catching up, only 10 feet away, at most. She ran straight-on, into the darkness. But then she saw a light. It slowly got brighter as she ran forward.
'If I get to the light, I'll be safe' something inside her said. She went with that thought. She sprinted now. The light became brighter, and brighter and brighter, until it was just a blinding wall in the middle of the forest. 5 feet away now. She clenched her teeth. Ran forward. She reached the light, and jumped.
She couldn't see anything, all around her was blinding light. Her scream was unheard.
Then she fell. She hit the ground, which was dirt, and lay on her side in a heap. She breathed heavily again, just lying there helplessly. She listened. Silence. She listened some more. Still silence. The Nazgûl had not followed. She had escaped.
She exhaled, and let her head just drop to the ground, eyes closed. She lay there unconscious, looking half-dead. The night breeze gracefully trailed over her body, and the stars overhead winked at her in the night sky.
Blynk had won the first battle.