When the Morning Sun Touches the Sky
By Gilly Gamgee
(*AUTHORS NOTE: OK..WELL, I WANT TO SAY FIRST THAT I BASED MANY OF THE CHARACTERS FROM PEOPLE IN MY OWN LIFE SO IF ANYONE THINKS THAT I HAVE OFFENDED THEM IN ANY WAY [AND TRUST ME, IF YOU READ THIS YOU WILL KNOW ITS ME AND THAT I AM TALKING ABOUT YOU, I'VE CHANGED MOST OF YOUR NAMES TOO FOR YOUR PRIVACY, OH AND FOR SOME PEOPLE I HAVE CHANGED THEM TO NAMES YOU LIKE BETTER THAN YOUR OWN.UM, FLO] PLEASE CONTACT ME..YOU KNOW HOW. SECOND, PLEASE REVIEW MY STORY, I DON'T MIND CONDUCTIVE CRITICISM, NO DO I SAY NO TO A GOOD REVIEW. OH AND, I MIGHT WANT TO SAY THAT IF YOU ARE READING THIS I WOULD RECOMMEND THAT YOU HAVE READ THE BOOKS BECAUSE MANY OF THE THINGS I REFER TO HAPPENED IN THE BOOKS NOT THE MOVIES, OR THEY MIGHT HAPPEN IN ROTK, BUT I DON'T KNOW IF THEY WILL YET, OBVIOUSLY, SINCE NONE OF US DO. ANYWAY, ENJOY!)
CHAPTER 1
Christine jumped down the last three creaky steps of her old screen porch, taking a deep breath of the sweet, fresh August air. Summer was by far her favorite season and she was determined not to miss a minute of this precious three-month break if she could help it. And since she had three hours left until she had to go to the sweltering heat of her dance camp, she was determined to make the best of the cool breeze blowing off the huge lake Superior. The wisps of cool wind slipped though the trees in the forests of northern Minnesota and suddenly would find Christine's face and play their way across her cheeks, soothing her.
Christine stepped into the damp shade of the thick forest surrounding her house, feeling happy to be out of the hot August sun. She walked quickly though the familiar trees, stepping lightly because of her bare feet. If she could help it, Christine never wore shoes, she found them an annoying hassle. But even though the soles of her feet where rather hardened compared to many of her friends (she was able to easily run down a rocky dirt road without shoes, while her friends winced and stepped on just their toes, cringing and yelling for her to slow down) her feet where not able to repel the sharp points of a rake that she accidentally stepped on last summer.now three small scars rested on the heel of her left foot. They where a light red and almost invisible before the inlaid dirt in her foot, nothing compared to the deep red scar in the exact center of her back, like a place where a thick sword had cut into her spine. But Christine had never been though any such thing in her life; she would sure have been dead now. Her mother always claimed it to be a birthmark, but Christine had a horrible time believing that; and how could she have long, kind of thin birthmark in the center of her back, and also two odd birthmarks around the upper part of her wrists as well. Her friends had always claimed that the ones around her wrists where proof she was truly an alien from outer space, and it was only a matter of time before her true parents came home to claim her. But how ever she had gotten the odd marks, Christine blamed the one on her back for her horrible back pains and the ones on her wrists for her extremely sensitive wrists.
The moss on the many roots of the trees was soft on Christine's toes, and as she crossed the shore of the river, squishy mud seeped through her toes, tickling her. Choosing an exceptionally thick log to walk across the low but swift river, she stepped gingerly on it, testing whether or not it could hold her weight. It could hold her weight well, and with a balance and swiftness that could only come from dancing for so long, she was cross the river. A few more long strides and she was to the old stone fence that used the pen cows in, but either all the cows had died or the farmer had simply given up, but the pasture had long ago been deserted and now a forest stood instead. Christine's long legs quickly took her over the low stones and to the other side, where an older and more moss-infested forest stood. Christine no longer cared for the condition of her feet, except for the occasional pokey plant, there was nothing here that would make her feet bleed, and that was all that worried Christine: if she started bleeding, she would have to go back to the house for a Band-Aid, the very sight of blood sickened her.
After another few minutes of wandering though the dense forest, Christine found what she had been absent-mindedly looking for: her spot. It was the place she always found herself wandering to. A simple place where Christine was away from almost everything and was allowed to simply think. A heap of old, moss and lichen covered rocks that lay under a huge birch tree that seemed to have stood there in that same spot for ages and ages. It was so tall that Christine could see it from the window of the loft of her house, towering above all the other trees, far away.
She took her place at the foot of the tree, on some of the rocks that had been so covered in moss that you could not even tell they where rocks, it was like laying on a rather lumpy feather bed. Folding her legs and leaning against the rough bark of the tree, Christine thought that life couldn't get more perfect then it was right now: she was 14-years-old, lived in a beautiful place, it was summer so there was no school, and she was away from everything.just how she liked it. She lay there lazily for a few minutes, watching the particles of dust and bits of leaves float and dance through the air, through the rays of sunlight that penetrated through the thick canopy of the forest, until she was bored, then she took out the small book she had in her sweatshirt pocket. She opened to the page she had book marked in "The Hobbit" and started re-reading the book for probably the 25th time in the last year. She had gone from the part where Gollum and Bilbo had fought for the Hobbit's life in the tunnels of the goblins, to where Bilbo had saved the Dwarves from the giant spiders in Mirkwood when she glanced at her watch and saw that she had ten minutes to leave for her dance class.
Christine pocketed the book again and set off at a run back towards her house, no longer caring how much she hurt her feet, and vaguely thinking she could hear her dad's voice calling her name in the distance. She sped up as she crossed the old fence in a single leap. * * * "Are you certain of this?" The lady Galadriel stared at the messenger before her, trying to keep her face straight, but knowing well that her surprise and fear was showing through her majestically blue eyes.
"Yes, my lady. Absolutely positive." The messenger said. He was no better at hiding his fear than she, his hazel eyes where full of the terror she felt welling up inside herself. But she forced it back down. Now was not the time to panic, that would only make the situation worse.
She took a deep, slow breath, calming herself "So be it then. We will contact the one's living in the Changed World, and they will find the girl. She must be here as quickly as possible.we can not afford to waste anytime. This is too urgent." The messenger nodded and ran out of the hall as Galadriel fell into a chair behind her. She had never expected that the time would be so soon. She of course knew it would come, but not yet. And now that it had come, there was no time to waste, they had to find the body of the girl, and she had to remember. That was critical. But what if all the people that where needed did not know each other, or who each other where? No. She would not allow herself to think of such a case. She had no time for it now; she needed to think quickly. And anyway, it was said that she would have at least meet, or would meet the other people soon, they would not have that much difficulty finding her.most likely. No she must not think of that, she had to make her plan and quickly.
But as she concentrated at keeping her mind straight and thinking, one though kept on squirming its way back into her mind, what if they didn't know each other? And what would be the cost for her people if that happened? * * * Jamie let her body flow with the music of the dance.let her mind relax and move into the memorized steps as she always did. ATTITUDE!! Her mind screeched at her. The difference between a dancer and a Dancer was how well you where able to use your body and to what extent. It was one of Jamie's talents.
As she began to really use her body, she felt beads of sweat start to roll down her cheeks from the corners of her forehead and more droplets under her eyes. But she would wait to wipe them away till after the dance.no point in distracting herself now, and anyway, there where no boys around, so there was no point in making a fashion statement. As a pause in the song came, Jamie stole a glance in the mirror before her and the other girls on the Jr. line. All the girls on her right side looked like they where in pain, they where not smiling, they where all behind a note in their steps and they where all watching her. And, Jamie noticed with annoyance, none of them where using attitude! They had just had a conversation about what it took to be on the Jr. line and they all had agreed using your body and attitude was the key to dancing right. But why where they not using what they had?! One or two of the girls had said they where concentrating too hard still on getting the steps right to use attitude yet, and she was ok with that.it was their first year on the line and they moved fast, but the other girls had no excuse. They where barely breaking a sweat! But she wouldn't badger them till closer to competitions, heck it was only August.
Another pause in the song, she looked in the other direction. Most of the girls looked exactly the same, one using some attitude, but most just the same pitiful dancing as the other side. Except for one. The girl next to her in the front row that Jamie had not really noticed until now. She was about half a head taller than Jamie (but of course that was not a huge accomplishment), with longish blonde-brown hair that was tied up in a messy half-bun, and wow: she was good. She was using every thing in her in the dance, and she hit the notes perfectly, just like Jamie herself. Her arms where perfectly straight (Jamie couldn't say the same for the other people on the line) and she could almost feel the energy coming out of her hands. It was the first time she had really noticed the girl, as it was her first year on the line, and Jamie wondered why she had not come a year, to two before! She was most certainly good enough. What was her name again? Jamie asked herself Katlin? Catherine? She couldn't remember, but she made a mental note to ask her after class.
But then, all to suddenly, the dance was over and Jamie found herself in her last pose, wondering how she had gotten there: she had no memory of the last half of the dance at least.
"Good, girls." The teacher said, turning off the music "Go get some water and take a 5-minute break."
Jamie stood up from her kneeling position and wiped the sweat from under and around her nose with the shirt she wore over her leotard, then turned towards the back of the room where her water bottle was. After pouring the soothing ice water down her throat and relieving the rest of the sweat from her face with a Blues Clues towel, she looked around the room at the other girls. Some practiced the steps they where having trouble with, others lay on the cold tiles of the floor, and others where sitting drinking their water in gulps at a time. Jamie soon spotted the girl who had been dancing near her, showing three of the girls from her class the year before how to do a step that they did not know how to do quite right. Jamie sat down on a mat and waited patiently, drinking her water and thinking. There was something oddly familiar about that girl, the way she moved.the sound of her voice.just something about her. Something that Jamie could simply not place.
THEN SHE WAS DONE TEACHING THE GIRLS WHAT EVER THEY HAD WANTED TO KNOW, AND SHE WALKED OVER TO WHERE JAMIE SAT, GRABBING HER OWN WATER BOTTLE AND SITTING DOWN ON THE FLOOR, THIRSTILY DRINKING THE WATER DOWN. JAMIE LET HER FINISH HER WATER, AND WIPE THE SWEAT OFF HER FACE WITH HER HAND THEN ONTO HER BLACK SHORTS. WHEN SHE LOOKED LIKE SHE WAS DONE DRINKING AND WAS STARING AT THE FAR WALL OF THE STUDIO, JAMIE SPOKE UP.
"Good job." She said, not finding any other conversation starters.
The other girl turned to her, her eyes full of mild surprise that Jamie was talking to her. "Oh. Thanks." She smiled. When she smiled, Jamie felt herself drawn to the girls eyes: a blue-green color that was not quite hazel with a dark blue edge. Then Jamie knew for sure that she had seen this girl some where.but she could not place where. Those eyes where unforgettable. It was a feeling that Jamie had felt before: the feeling that Jamie knew the person, but simply could not place them. It happened very rarely that she would meet one of these people, but when she did, she found she could relate to them very well, about almost everything. She had her ideas as to why these people seemed so familiar to her, but she had her guesses. And when ever she began to really think about them, she would start getting scared and call herself a moron.
Jamie was so deep into her thoughts that she had forgot she had started a conversation. "You're a really good dancer too." The girl said. Wow, Jamie thought even her voice is familiar. I wish I could place from where through.
"Thanks." Jamie found her voice after her surprise. "Why weren't you on the line last year, your so good?"
"My friend was going to join a different class, and I wanted to be with her, but she backed out at the last minute and it was too late to move so I was stuck a class back." The girl explained. "Oh, I'm Christine by the way."
Christine! That was it! "I'm Jamie." She returned the smile. "Yea, I knew that." Christine smiled. "We where in the same class a few years ago, do you remember, technique/lyrical? You where way better than me, so I didn't really expect you to." She had obviously read Jamie's confused face. For a moment Jamie thought that might have been where she had seen the girl before, but no, she was sure it was something else. Someone did not forget those eyes easily. This was something deeper. Christine paused, then suddenly, she stretched out her back, her face crunched up in pain, whispering "Oww." "Sorry," she said when she had stretched her back out well "I have horrible back pains."
"What grade are you going into again?" Jamie asked surprised.
"9th. Why?"
"Aren't you just a little young to be getting back pains?" Jamie asked, surprised.
Christine shrugged "Probably. But I can't really do much about them though, can I? I think they might be because-" but Jamie never got to hear why where Christine thought she got her back pains: at that moment, the teacher came back in the room and said it was time to dance again. Jamie screwed the lid of her water bottle back on and got up to let her body flow into the dance again. * * * August was drawing to an end and Tom knew that meant only one thing for him: it was almost time for him to start getting ready for the new school year. Mr. Nelson was the 9th grade science teacher at Two Harbors High School, in the small town of Two Harbors, far up in the cold northern Minnesota on the shores of huge, majestic Lake Superior. He would have to go into his room soon to put up all the posters again before the first day of school and get his lesson plans ready again. He always found it hard to go back to the school after the long summer break, and he could remember how depressing it had been when he was a kid to go back to school every September, even every morning when he had to go back from a night at home. He felt for the students, but what could he do?
He yawned and swung back from his knees to the balls of his feet, vainly trying to rub the sleepiness out of this eyes. It was about high time for him to sleep, but he forced himself to stay away a few minutes more: he had to find it. Tom shook his head vigorously, then looked around his basement one last time. Boxes of random things lay spread around him, all having been thoroughly searched for the past two and half hours. None of them had what he was looking for inside them. Tom moved towards one box that he though he might not have looked in yet, but only to open the lid and see the same old collage books he had seen 5 times already that night. But I may have missed it the other five times I looked before. he thought hopefully, rummaging though the books quickly It was quite small.
But then, quite suddenly, all the light was gone. The old light bulb must have finally hit its stride, about time to, he couldn't help but think, it must have been at least 6 years before he had changed it last. Tom swore but thanked the gods at the same time: he took it as a sign. It was time for him to go to sleep. He could have lumbered around and found a flashlight in about 10 minutes, but that very well could end up in injury to his head. And since he was going bald, it would be quite obvious if he had a big black and blue mark in the cent of his head from running into the wall. So instead, he set off towards the direction he knew the stairs where in on his knees, one hand stretched out in front of him to catch himself if he where to fall or run into a box that blocked his way. Somehow he managed to make his way though the cluttered basement and up the steep stairs, and in to the kitchen, where he quickly found the light switch. The snoopy clock above the back door told him that it was 1:13 A.M, much later than he though it had been, and much later than he had told himself he would stay up that night. Small wonder he was so tired. After drinking a glass of water, he turned off the light and made his way though the house, lit by the pale light of the full seeping thought the window shades and reflecting from any shiny surface.
When he moved into his room, he fell into his bed with his clothes on, falling asleep before he hit the pillow, his last though: I am getting far to old for this in this lifetime. * * * Where am I? Christine asked herself. Her head throbbed so painfully that she felt she would pass out. Her wrists and ankles where bound so tightly that she felt she would have permanent scars. Every muscle in her body ached and moaned and groaned at the idea of even opening her eyes. And her right side hurt so bad. It was as if she had been stabbed then before it could properly heal, she had whipped constantly for days. Everything was cold and still around her, and Christine was dimly aware that there where many fires in a wide circle around where she lay, far off almost in the distance and near her, and that many man-like creatures moved around her. She was perfectly happy to go back to the sleep she knew she had just been in, but at that moment someone kicked her sharply on her side that hurt so much. She cried out in pain and cringed into a tight ball around herself, holding her side tightly.
"Shut up, girl." An evil voice said above her. A terribly hairy hand grabbed her hair and pulled her to a sitting position. "Now, eat." The creature flung some stale bread and meat at her. An instinct told Christine not to touch the meat or the bread and so she lay back down slowly, not daring to look at anyone or anything, as terror took her. She was lost. She was separated from what she knew, from what she loved.though she could not quite put a pin down on what that was. She was cold. She was in pain. And she wanted nothing more to be home in her hobbit hole by the pleasant fire again. HOBBIT HOLE!? Her mind yelled at her. She was crazy. She was dreaming. Yet it all seemed so real.
Suddenly, a small, rather high pitched, yet oddly familiar voice to her right made her eyes snap open and her lift her head up an inch off the ground. "Daisy?"
"Pip?" Christine heard herself saying without thinking. "Where are you?"
"We are over here, a little away from you," Another familiar voice whispered, this one a little lower "Don't try to move, they will come over here if you do."
"Where are we, what is happening?" Christine found herself asking again.
"We don't know, all I can tell, since you where unconscious as we came here, is we are near a huge forest and these foul creatures are being hunted; we are surrounded right now." The first voice said, a tone in his voice trying to reassure her. It was not succeeding.
"Is it Strider?" Christine found herself asking again. Strider?! What? Her mind yelled at her.
"No. There are too many of them and they are on horses." The second voice said. Daisy (CHRISTINE! Her mind said, angrily) felt her heart sink. Well you should have known he wouldn't come and save you. He went with Mr. Frodo. That is where the real quest lays. She felt herself thinking unwillingly. Then she snapped a hold of herself Mr. Frodo? Strider? What am I thinking? "Just stay calm," the voice came again "and if you can-" but at that moment another kick in her side told her to be quiet again. A soft cry of pain told her that her friend had gotten the same treatment.
Christine lay for what seemed like forever in the cold silence, the pokey rocks digging into her back, listening intently. She soon found that her hearing had become exceptional: she could hear the distant wind blowing the leaves of a forest near by softly and making them dance in a rhythm and movement she knew all too well from her own home. Suddenly more evil voices made her stop listening to the tinkling of the leaves behind her, and listen to them. "They'll wait for the sun curse them!" came the voice from some where above her. "What's old Ugl'uk think he's doing, I should like to know?"
"I daresay you would." Came an especially evil and nasty voice from the darkness behind her, and for some reason Christine knew this was Ugl'uk speaking. The creatures talked for a bit longer, fighting about what to do about the 'Whiteskins' would do to them if they did not do something right then, or if they did something right then. When the argument seemed to have ended, with Ugl'uk winning, everything went quiet again and the only sound was made by the tinkling of the leaves again, and, Christine noticed suddenly, the occasional snort of a horse. It became very dark, a shadow passed over the moon and did not leave, Christine could not see much, save the golden-red of the fires around her and the threatening shadow of pure blackness of what she guessed to be the forest she could hear and the man had spoken of.
A sudden scuffle made Christine look up slightly, no matter how much her muscles refused to let her. It appeared to her (even though she could not see much in the darkness) that something had crept into the band of creatures suddenly and killed many of them. Christine noticed that all the creatures that had been guarding her had gone off the help the battle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement, and Christine decided it must be the men she had talked to before. "Daisy?" one of them called out softly into the darkness. Before Christine could answer, though, a soft screech of surprise told her something had grabbed her companions. She kept herself quiet, praying silently that her friends where ok (but Christine was not sure why, since she had never met the men in her life and she barely accounted them as friends because they had spoken to each other through the darkness.) She could hear one of the creatures whispering to the two men that it had obviously grabbed. Then she heard one of the men whisper back to the creature, then the other. She caught a few words, something about 'precious' and an odd gurgling sound in one of their throats that sounded oddly like.no. This had nothing to do with Christine's obsession with The Lord of the Rings books. Or did it?
Then quite suddenly, the shadow of the thing that held her friends, disappeared into the darkness, with the shadows of her friends. This made Christine sit straight up. Where had they gone? Now she was truly lost. And she was going to be killed. But before she was killed she would be forced to give away everything she knew about Mr. Frodo and his quest. She would - what! Mr. Fordo?! So this was a Lord of the Rings dream! But it oddly seemed so real.Then quite suddenly, a shriek from far away made Daisy, no Christine, her name was not Daisy it was Christine, listen very closely. Had that been a Hobbit shriek or an Orc shriek? Hobbits? Orcs? What was she thinking? This was getting to far. But try as she might, Christine could not force herself to wake up from the odd place. But she knew she was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. Simply had to. There was a beating of hooves from the direction where the shriek came from, then it died away.
But terribly, the cry of the dieing creature that had taken Christine's friends had alerted the other Orcs (Christine decided that must be what the creatures where, there was no other word for them that she knew) and they soon became aware that the other two captives where gone. Daisy (NO Christine) was left alone with the Orcs. The big Orc called Ugl'uk was knocking off the heads of the others who where assigned to watch the hobbits and had left them. Then he turned to Christine. "Come then, I think Mauh'ur will be here any moment and we will make sure to get you at least to Isenguard." His eyes where pure evil joy and they filled Christine's heart with terror. At that moment, many loud, shrill cries of many more Orcs, told Daisy (CHRISTINE) that Mauh'ur had indeed arrived and was attacking who ever was surrounding them, "The Riders of Rohan" a small voice in the back of her head said. Then Christine remembered. It all came back to her so fast that it scared her: she was with the Orcs and they where gong to Isenguard, Merry and Pippin had just been saved by Grishna'kh, and they would go into the Fangorn Forest and meet Treebeard. But what would happen to her? The book never said anything about a Hobbit named Daisy (a GIRL named CHRISTINE, her mind yelled) with them. But she knew she had to get away. There was no way around it, to save her own life and the purpose of the quest, she had to.
But then Ugl'uk turned to her again and took out his long dagger. He swiftly cut the tight bonds around her ankles and then pulled her up to a standing position by her hair again. "Come on." She was thrown over the shoulders of an especially hairy Orc and it immediately set off at a fast run towards the forest, with at least ten Orcs surrounding it. Ugl'uk was taking no chances that she would be taken. But as they ran closer and closer to the shadow of the Forest, the Riders of Rohan must have seen the crowd of Orcs running towards the Forest, because quite suddenly, most of the Orks around her where falling over in their tracks as they ran. Daisy (Christine her mind said quite sternly) hoped that the arrow that killed her Orc did not kill her as well. But then, the Orc that was carrying her was shot in the chest from the front by a rider who had ridden ahead of the troupe and was shooting most of the Orcs. Christine felt herself fall with the Orc, but even when he had fallen to his knees, he was not dead: Christine tried to pull her bound hands from around the Orcs' neck, but one strong, clawed hand grabbed her lower arm, ripping the fabric from her shirt, as well as her skin in three, long claw marks. She cried out in pain, but then another arrow hit the Orc, this time in the throat and he fell to the ground, truly dead.
Daisy (CHRISTINE!!) pulled her arm free from the dead Orc's awesome grip and started running away from the circle where all the battle was happening, witch was towards the shadow of the forest ahead of her. She figured if she happened to meet any Orcs there, she would loose them in the trees. But right before she was in the sanctuary of the trees, Daisy (Christine's mind refused to argue further) was grabbed by the hood of her cloak by yet another Orc. All her hope was lost in that second that she looked back into the evil eyes of the thing. But then suddenly, an arrow hit that Orc in the back as well, and with a terrible cry, it died. Daisy, pulled herself free from its grasp and ran soundlessly into the forest. She was suddenly bombarded by darkness so full that it made her stop in her tracks, surprised. Even her keen eyes could barely make out more then shadow in this place, and the air was so stuffy it was hard to breath. But one though filled the young Hobbit's exhausted mind (for that's what Christine felt she was now, a young Hobbit) Find Merry and Pippin. And though she would have liked nothing better than to lay down and sleep for hours and hours and wake up in her own hobbit hole, even if she had to be badgered by the Gaffer until the end of time, she forced herself to keep on going. Her only hope was to find the only people she was sure where still alive in the Fellowship she had been with for so many months. She dared not yell, at least not yet: she though the Orcs where still too close and could hear her. Then they would find her again, and she would be back in the same predicament she was in before, but with no hope of escape.
She had to sleep. She was so exhausted that she could not go on one more minute.she had to stop. She could find Merry and Pippin tomorrow.no. She had to keep on going, who knew how long she would sleep, and Merry and Pippin may not have stopped; they would be long gone by morning if she stopped to sleep. And if she slept, an Orc could come across her and capture her again.But no matter how many reasons her brain could come up with not to sleep, her body would not listen.
Daisy tried to force herself to stay awake, but was suddenly falling to the thick layer to old leaves and moss that covered the forest floor in exhaustion. She tried to throw out her hands to stop her fall, but they where bound, and she was simply too tired.
Suddenly she was awake. A twig had snapped nearby, waking her up immediately. A man, looking oddly familiar, dressed all in white with a huge staff stood above her, a knife in his hand raised above her. SARUMAN!! Her mind screeched. She screamed, a terrified, high pitched scream of a child and tried to throw her hands up to shield her face. * * * Christine was suddenly awake and sitting straight up in her bed, covered in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. The odd necklace, and the heavy golden ring she had always worn around her neck for over a year, ever since she had discovered the magic of Lord of the Rings and had been ensnared, bounced off her upper chest twice: the sudden upward movement of her body sending it bouncing against her. She could feel her heart racing under her skin as she got a grip of herself. It was a clear night and the pale light from the moon and stars outside crept into her room, splashing across the one blanket she used in the summer and the messy floor of her bed room.
It was a dream. Just a dream. She told herself firmly. But it had been so real.surely there was a logical explanation for this? Of course! It was because she read too much Lord of the Rings. She was completely obsessed and all her friends had always told her no good could come of it. That was it. With these thoughts in her head, Christine lay back down and forced herself to fall asleep again. But the last thing she remembered thinking was, Why was my name Daisy then?.
*(Author's note: hope you liked it.if you thought there was not enough actual Middle-Earth in it, trust me, there is more coming. Well, review!! I love to hear how I am doing!! Thanx for reading! -Gill)
By Gilly Gamgee
(*AUTHORS NOTE: OK..WELL, I WANT TO SAY FIRST THAT I BASED MANY OF THE CHARACTERS FROM PEOPLE IN MY OWN LIFE SO IF ANYONE THINKS THAT I HAVE OFFENDED THEM IN ANY WAY [AND TRUST ME, IF YOU READ THIS YOU WILL KNOW ITS ME AND THAT I AM TALKING ABOUT YOU, I'VE CHANGED MOST OF YOUR NAMES TOO FOR YOUR PRIVACY, OH AND FOR SOME PEOPLE I HAVE CHANGED THEM TO NAMES YOU LIKE BETTER THAN YOUR OWN.UM, FLO] PLEASE CONTACT ME..YOU KNOW HOW. SECOND, PLEASE REVIEW MY STORY, I DON'T MIND CONDUCTIVE CRITICISM, NO DO I SAY NO TO A GOOD REVIEW. OH AND, I MIGHT WANT TO SAY THAT IF YOU ARE READING THIS I WOULD RECOMMEND THAT YOU HAVE READ THE BOOKS BECAUSE MANY OF THE THINGS I REFER TO HAPPENED IN THE BOOKS NOT THE MOVIES, OR THEY MIGHT HAPPEN IN ROTK, BUT I DON'T KNOW IF THEY WILL YET, OBVIOUSLY, SINCE NONE OF US DO. ANYWAY, ENJOY!)
CHAPTER 1
Christine jumped down the last three creaky steps of her old screen porch, taking a deep breath of the sweet, fresh August air. Summer was by far her favorite season and she was determined not to miss a minute of this precious three-month break if she could help it. And since she had three hours left until she had to go to the sweltering heat of her dance camp, she was determined to make the best of the cool breeze blowing off the huge lake Superior. The wisps of cool wind slipped though the trees in the forests of northern Minnesota and suddenly would find Christine's face and play their way across her cheeks, soothing her.
Christine stepped into the damp shade of the thick forest surrounding her house, feeling happy to be out of the hot August sun. She walked quickly though the familiar trees, stepping lightly because of her bare feet. If she could help it, Christine never wore shoes, she found them an annoying hassle. But even though the soles of her feet where rather hardened compared to many of her friends (she was able to easily run down a rocky dirt road without shoes, while her friends winced and stepped on just their toes, cringing and yelling for her to slow down) her feet where not able to repel the sharp points of a rake that she accidentally stepped on last summer.now three small scars rested on the heel of her left foot. They where a light red and almost invisible before the inlaid dirt in her foot, nothing compared to the deep red scar in the exact center of her back, like a place where a thick sword had cut into her spine. But Christine had never been though any such thing in her life; she would sure have been dead now. Her mother always claimed it to be a birthmark, but Christine had a horrible time believing that; and how could she have long, kind of thin birthmark in the center of her back, and also two odd birthmarks around the upper part of her wrists as well. Her friends had always claimed that the ones around her wrists where proof she was truly an alien from outer space, and it was only a matter of time before her true parents came home to claim her. But how ever she had gotten the odd marks, Christine blamed the one on her back for her horrible back pains and the ones on her wrists for her extremely sensitive wrists.
The moss on the many roots of the trees was soft on Christine's toes, and as she crossed the shore of the river, squishy mud seeped through her toes, tickling her. Choosing an exceptionally thick log to walk across the low but swift river, she stepped gingerly on it, testing whether or not it could hold her weight. It could hold her weight well, and with a balance and swiftness that could only come from dancing for so long, she was cross the river. A few more long strides and she was to the old stone fence that used the pen cows in, but either all the cows had died or the farmer had simply given up, but the pasture had long ago been deserted and now a forest stood instead. Christine's long legs quickly took her over the low stones and to the other side, where an older and more moss-infested forest stood. Christine no longer cared for the condition of her feet, except for the occasional pokey plant, there was nothing here that would make her feet bleed, and that was all that worried Christine: if she started bleeding, she would have to go back to the house for a Band-Aid, the very sight of blood sickened her.
After another few minutes of wandering though the dense forest, Christine found what she had been absent-mindedly looking for: her spot. It was the place she always found herself wandering to. A simple place where Christine was away from almost everything and was allowed to simply think. A heap of old, moss and lichen covered rocks that lay under a huge birch tree that seemed to have stood there in that same spot for ages and ages. It was so tall that Christine could see it from the window of the loft of her house, towering above all the other trees, far away.
She took her place at the foot of the tree, on some of the rocks that had been so covered in moss that you could not even tell they where rocks, it was like laying on a rather lumpy feather bed. Folding her legs and leaning against the rough bark of the tree, Christine thought that life couldn't get more perfect then it was right now: she was 14-years-old, lived in a beautiful place, it was summer so there was no school, and she was away from everything.just how she liked it. She lay there lazily for a few minutes, watching the particles of dust and bits of leaves float and dance through the air, through the rays of sunlight that penetrated through the thick canopy of the forest, until she was bored, then she took out the small book she had in her sweatshirt pocket. She opened to the page she had book marked in "The Hobbit" and started re-reading the book for probably the 25th time in the last year. She had gone from the part where Gollum and Bilbo had fought for the Hobbit's life in the tunnels of the goblins, to where Bilbo had saved the Dwarves from the giant spiders in Mirkwood when she glanced at her watch and saw that she had ten minutes to leave for her dance class.
Christine pocketed the book again and set off at a run back towards her house, no longer caring how much she hurt her feet, and vaguely thinking she could hear her dad's voice calling her name in the distance. She sped up as she crossed the old fence in a single leap. * * * "Are you certain of this?" The lady Galadriel stared at the messenger before her, trying to keep her face straight, but knowing well that her surprise and fear was showing through her majestically blue eyes.
"Yes, my lady. Absolutely positive." The messenger said. He was no better at hiding his fear than she, his hazel eyes where full of the terror she felt welling up inside herself. But she forced it back down. Now was not the time to panic, that would only make the situation worse.
She took a deep, slow breath, calming herself "So be it then. We will contact the one's living in the Changed World, and they will find the girl. She must be here as quickly as possible.we can not afford to waste anytime. This is too urgent." The messenger nodded and ran out of the hall as Galadriel fell into a chair behind her. She had never expected that the time would be so soon. She of course knew it would come, but not yet. And now that it had come, there was no time to waste, they had to find the body of the girl, and she had to remember. That was critical. But what if all the people that where needed did not know each other, or who each other where? No. She would not allow herself to think of such a case. She had no time for it now; she needed to think quickly. And anyway, it was said that she would have at least meet, or would meet the other people soon, they would not have that much difficulty finding her.most likely. No she must not think of that, she had to make her plan and quickly.
But as she concentrated at keeping her mind straight and thinking, one though kept on squirming its way back into her mind, what if they didn't know each other? And what would be the cost for her people if that happened? * * * Jamie let her body flow with the music of the dance.let her mind relax and move into the memorized steps as she always did. ATTITUDE!! Her mind screeched at her. The difference between a dancer and a Dancer was how well you where able to use your body and to what extent. It was one of Jamie's talents.
As she began to really use her body, she felt beads of sweat start to roll down her cheeks from the corners of her forehead and more droplets under her eyes. But she would wait to wipe them away till after the dance.no point in distracting herself now, and anyway, there where no boys around, so there was no point in making a fashion statement. As a pause in the song came, Jamie stole a glance in the mirror before her and the other girls on the Jr. line. All the girls on her right side looked like they where in pain, they where not smiling, they where all behind a note in their steps and they where all watching her. And, Jamie noticed with annoyance, none of them where using attitude! They had just had a conversation about what it took to be on the Jr. line and they all had agreed using your body and attitude was the key to dancing right. But why where they not using what they had?! One or two of the girls had said they where concentrating too hard still on getting the steps right to use attitude yet, and she was ok with that.it was their first year on the line and they moved fast, but the other girls had no excuse. They where barely breaking a sweat! But she wouldn't badger them till closer to competitions, heck it was only August.
Another pause in the song, she looked in the other direction. Most of the girls looked exactly the same, one using some attitude, but most just the same pitiful dancing as the other side. Except for one. The girl next to her in the front row that Jamie had not really noticed until now. She was about half a head taller than Jamie (but of course that was not a huge accomplishment), with longish blonde-brown hair that was tied up in a messy half-bun, and wow: she was good. She was using every thing in her in the dance, and she hit the notes perfectly, just like Jamie herself. Her arms where perfectly straight (Jamie couldn't say the same for the other people on the line) and she could almost feel the energy coming out of her hands. It was the first time she had really noticed the girl, as it was her first year on the line, and Jamie wondered why she had not come a year, to two before! She was most certainly good enough. What was her name again? Jamie asked herself Katlin? Catherine? She couldn't remember, but she made a mental note to ask her after class.
But then, all to suddenly, the dance was over and Jamie found herself in her last pose, wondering how she had gotten there: she had no memory of the last half of the dance at least.
"Good, girls." The teacher said, turning off the music "Go get some water and take a 5-minute break."
Jamie stood up from her kneeling position and wiped the sweat from under and around her nose with the shirt she wore over her leotard, then turned towards the back of the room where her water bottle was. After pouring the soothing ice water down her throat and relieving the rest of the sweat from her face with a Blues Clues towel, she looked around the room at the other girls. Some practiced the steps they where having trouble with, others lay on the cold tiles of the floor, and others where sitting drinking their water in gulps at a time. Jamie soon spotted the girl who had been dancing near her, showing three of the girls from her class the year before how to do a step that they did not know how to do quite right. Jamie sat down on a mat and waited patiently, drinking her water and thinking. There was something oddly familiar about that girl, the way she moved.the sound of her voice.just something about her. Something that Jamie could simply not place.
THEN SHE WAS DONE TEACHING THE GIRLS WHAT EVER THEY HAD WANTED TO KNOW, AND SHE WALKED OVER TO WHERE JAMIE SAT, GRABBING HER OWN WATER BOTTLE AND SITTING DOWN ON THE FLOOR, THIRSTILY DRINKING THE WATER DOWN. JAMIE LET HER FINISH HER WATER, AND WIPE THE SWEAT OFF HER FACE WITH HER HAND THEN ONTO HER BLACK SHORTS. WHEN SHE LOOKED LIKE SHE WAS DONE DRINKING AND WAS STARING AT THE FAR WALL OF THE STUDIO, JAMIE SPOKE UP.
"Good job." She said, not finding any other conversation starters.
The other girl turned to her, her eyes full of mild surprise that Jamie was talking to her. "Oh. Thanks." She smiled. When she smiled, Jamie felt herself drawn to the girls eyes: a blue-green color that was not quite hazel with a dark blue edge. Then Jamie knew for sure that she had seen this girl some where.but she could not place where. Those eyes where unforgettable. It was a feeling that Jamie had felt before: the feeling that Jamie knew the person, but simply could not place them. It happened very rarely that she would meet one of these people, but when she did, she found she could relate to them very well, about almost everything. She had her ideas as to why these people seemed so familiar to her, but she had her guesses. And when ever she began to really think about them, she would start getting scared and call herself a moron.
Jamie was so deep into her thoughts that she had forgot she had started a conversation. "You're a really good dancer too." The girl said. Wow, Jamie thought even her voice is familiar. I wish I could place from where through.
"Thanks." Jamie found her voice after her surprise. "Why weren't you on the line last year, your so good?"
"My friend was going to join a different class, and I wanted to be with her, but she backed out at the last minute and it was too late to move so I was stuck a class back." The girl explained. "Oh, I'm Christine by the way."
Christine! That was it! "I'm Jamie." She returned the smile. "Yea, I knew that." Christine smiled. "We where in the same class a few years ago, do you remember, technique/lyrical? You where way better than me, so I didn't really expect you to." She had obviously read Jamie's confused face. For a moment Jamie thought that might have been where she had seen the girl before, but no, she was sure it was something else. Someone did not forget those eyes easily. This was something deeper. Christine paused, then suddenly, she stretched out her back, her face crunched up in pain, whispering "Oww." "Sorry," she said when she had stretched her back out well "I have horrible back pains."
"What grade are you going into again?" Jamie asked surprised.
"9th. Why?"
"Aren't you just a little young to be getting back pains?" Jamie asked, surprised.
Christine shrugged "Probably. But I can't really do much about them though, can I? I think they might be because-" but Jamie never got to hear why where Christine thought she got her back pains: at that moment, the teacher came back in the room and said it was time to dance again. Jamie screwed the lid of her water bottle back on and got up to let her body flow into the dance again. * * * August was drawing to an end and Tom knew that meant only one thing for him: it was almost time for him to start getting ready for the new school year. Mr. Nelson was the 9th grade science teacher at Two Harbors High School, in the small town of Two Harbors, far up in the cold northern Minnesota on the shores of huge, majestic Lake Superior. He would have to go into his room soon to put up all the posters again before the first day of school and get his lesson plans ready again. He always found it hard to go back to the school after the long summer break, and he could remember how depressing it had been when he was a kid to go back to school every September, even every morning when he had to go back from a night at home. He felt for the students, but what could he do?
He yawned and swung back from his knees to the balls of his feet, vainly trying to rub the sleepiness out of this eyes. It was about high time for him to sleep, but he forced himself to stay away a few minutes more: he had to find it. Tom shook his head vigorously, then looked around his basement one last time. Boxes of random things lay spread around him, all having been thoroughly searched for the past two and half hours. None of them had what he was looking for inside them. Tom moved towards one box that he though he might not have looked in yet, but only to open the lid and see the same old collage books he had seen 5 times already that night. But I may have missed it the other five times I looked before. he thought hopefully, rummaging though the books quickly It was quite small.
But then, quite suddenly, all the light was gone. The old light bulb must have finally hit its stride, about time to, he couldn't help but think, it must have been at least 6 years before he had changed it last. Tom swore but thanked the gods at the same time: he took it as a sign. It was time for him to go to sleep. He could have lumbered around and found a flashlight in about 10 minutes, but that very well could end up in injury to his head. And since he was going bald, it would be quite obvious if he had a big black and blue mark in the cent of his head from running into the wall. So instead, he set off towards the direction he knew the stairs where in on his knees, one hand stretched out in front of him to catch himself if he where to fall or run into a box that blocked his way. Somehow he managed to make his way though the cluttered basement and up the steep stairs, and in to the kitchen, where he quickly found the light switch. The snoopy clock above the back door told him that it was 1:13 A.M, much later than he though it had been, and much later than he had told himself he would stay up that night. Small wonder he was so tired. After drinking a glass of water, he turned off the light and made his way though the house, lit by the pale light of the full seeping thought the window shades and reflecting from any shiny surface.
When he moved into his room, he fell into his bed with his clothes on, falling asleep before he hit the pillow, his last though: I am getting far to old for this in this lifetime. * * * Where am I? Christine asked herself. Her head throbbed so painfully that she felt she would pass out. Her wrists and ankles where bound so tightly that she felt she would have permanent scars. Every muscle in her body ached and moaned and groaned at the idea of even opening her eyes. And her right side hurt so bad. It was as if she had been stabbed then before it could properly heal, she had whipped constantly for days. Everything was cold and still around her, and Christine was dimly aware that there where many fires in a wide circle around where she lay, far off almost in the distance and near her, and that many man-like creatures moved around her. She was perfectly happy to go back to the sleep she knew she had just been in, but at that moment someone kicked her sharply on her side that hurt so much. She cried out in pain and cringed into a tight ball around herself, holding her side tightly.
"Shut up, girl." An evil voice said above her. A terribly hairy hand grabbed her hair and pulled her to a sitting position. "Now, eat." The creature flung some stale bread and meat at her. An instinct told Christine not to touch the meat or the bread and so she lay back down slowly, not daring to look at anyone or anything, as terror took her. She was lost. She was separated from what she knew, from what she loved.though she could not quite put a pin down on what that was. She was cold. She was in pain. And she wanted nothing more to be home in her hobbit hole by the pleasant fire again. HOBBIT HOLE!? Her mind yelled at her. She was crazy. She was dreaming. Yet it all seemed so real.
Suddenly, a small, rather high pitched, yet oddly familiar voice to her right made her eyes snap open and her lift her head up an inch off the ground. "Daisy?"
"Pip?" Christine heard herself saying without thinking. "Where are you?"
"We are over here, a little away from you," Another familiar voice whispered, this one a little lower "Don't try to move, they will come over here if you do."
"Where are we, what is happening?" Christine found herself asking again.
"We don't know, all I can tell, since you where unconscious as we came here, is we are near a huge forest and these foul creatures are being hunted; we are surrounded right now." The first voice said, a tone in his voice trying to reassure her. It was not succeeding.
"Is it Strider?" Christine found herself asking again. Strider?! What? Her mind yelled at her.
"No. There are too many of them and they are on horses." The second voice said. Daisy (CHRISTINE! Her mind said, angrily) felt her heart sink. Well you should have known he wouldn't come and save you. He went with Mr. Frodo. That is where the real quest lays. She felt herself thinking unwillingly. Then she snapped a hold of herself Mr. Frodo? Strider? What am I thinking? "Just stay calm," the voice came again "and if you can-" but at that moment another kick in her side told her to be quiet again. A soft cry of pain told her that her friend had gotten the same treatment.
Christine lay for what seemed like forever in the cold silence, the pokey rocks digging into her back, listening intently. She soon found that her hearing had become exceptional: she could hear the distant wind blowing the leaves of a forest near by softly and making them dance in a rhythm and movement she knew all too well from her own home. Suddenly more evil voices made her stop listening to the tinkling of the leaves behind her, and listen to them. "They'll wait for the sun curse them!" came the voice from some where above her. "What's old Ugl'uk think he's doing, I should like to know?"
"I daresay you would." Came an especially evil and nasty voice from the darkness behind her, and for some reason Christine knew this was Ugl'uk speaking. The creatures talked for a bit longer, fighting about what to do about the 'Whiteskins' would do to them if they did not do something right then, or if they did something right then. When the argument seemed to have ended, with Ugl'uk winning, everything went quiet again and the only sound was made by the tinkling of the leaves again, and, Christine noticed suddenly, the occasional snort of a horse. It became very dark, a shadow passed over the moon and did not leave, Christine could not see much, save the golden-red of the fires around her and the threatening shadow of pure blackness of what she guessed to be the forest she could hear and the man had spoken of.
A sudden scuffle made Christine look up slightly, no matter how much her muscles refused to let her. It appeared to her (even though she could not see much in the darkness) that something had crept into the band of creatures suddenly and killed many of them. Christine noticed that all the creatures that had been guarding her had gone off the help the battle. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw movement, and Christine decided it must be the men she had talked to before. "Daisy?" one of them called out softly into the darkness. Before Christine could answer, though, a soft screech of surprise told her something had grabbed her companions. She kept herself quiet, praying silently that her friends where ok (but Christine was not sure why, since she had never met the men in her life and she barely accounted them as friends because they had spoken to each other through the darkness.) She could hear one of the creatures whispering to the two men that it had obviously grabbed. Then she heard one of the men whisper back to the creature, then the other. She caught a few words, something about 'precious' and an odd gurgling sound in one of their throats that sounded oddly like.no. This had nothing to do with Christine's obsession with The Lord of the Rings books. Or did it?
Then quite suddenly, the shadow of the thing that held her friends, disappeared into the darkness, with the shadows of her friends. This made Christine sit straight up. Where had they gone? Now she was truly lost. And she was going to be killed. But before she was killed she would be forced to give away everything she knew about Mr. Frodo and his quest. She would - what! Mr. Fordo?! So this was a Lord of the Rings dream! But it oddly seemed so real.Then quite suddenly, a shriek from far away made Daisy, no Christine, her name was not Daisy it was Christine, listen very closely. Had that been a Hobbit shriek or an Orc shriek? Hobbits? Orcs? What was she thinking? This was getting to far. But try as she might, Christine could not force herself to wake up from the odd place. But she knew she was dreaming. She had to be dreaming. Simply had to. There was a beating of hooves from the direction where the shriek came from, then it died away.
But terribly, the cry of the dieing creature that had taken Christine's friends had alerted the other Orcs (Christine decided that must be what the creatures where, there was no other word for them that she knew) and they soon became aware that the other two captives where gone. Daisy (NO Christine) was left alone with the Orcs. The big Orc called Ugl'uk was knocking off the heads of the others who where assigned to watch the hobbits and had left them. Then he turned to Christine. "Come then, I think Mauh'ur will be here any moment and we will make sure to get you at least to Isenguard." His eyes where pure evil joy and they filled Christine's heart with terror. At that moment, many loud, shrill cries of many more Orcs, told Daisy (CHRISTINE) that Mauh'ur had indeed arrived and was attacking who ever was surrounding them, "The Riders of Rohan" a small voice in the back of her head said. Then Christine remembered. It all came back to her so fast that it scared her: she was with the Orcs and they where gong to Isenguard, Merry and Pippin had just been saved by Grishna'kh, and they would go into the Fangorn Forest and meet Treebeard. But what would happen to her? The book never said anything about a Hobbit named Daisy (a GIRL named CHRISTINE, her mind yelled) with them. But she knew she had to get away. There was no way around it, to save her own life and the purpose of the quest, she had to.
But then Ugl'uk turned to her again and took out his long dagger. He swiftly cut the tight bonds around her ankles and then pulled her up to a standing position by her hair again. "Come on." She was thrown over the shoulders of an especially hairy Orc and it immediately set off at a fast run towards the forest, with at least ten Orcs surrounding it. Ugl'uk was taking no chances that she would be taken. But as they ran closer and closer to the shadow of the Forest, the Riders of Rohan must have seen the crowd of Orcs running towards the Forest, because quite suddenly, most of the Orks around her where falling over in their tracks as they ran. Daisy (Christine her mind said quite sternly) hoped that the arrow that killed her Orc did not kill her as well. But then, the Orc that was carrying her was shot in the chest from the front by a rider who had ridden ahead of the troupe and was shooting most of the Orcs. Christine felt herself fall with the Orc, but even when he had fallen to his knees, he was not dead: Christine tried to pull her bound hands from around the Orcs' neck, but one strong, clawed hand grabbed her lower arm, ripping the fabric from her shirt, as well as her skin in three, long claw marks. She cried out in pain, but then another arrow hit the Orc, this time in the throat and he fell to the ground, truly dead.
Daisy (CHRISTINE!!) pulled her arm free from the dead Orc's awesome grip and started running away from the circle where all the battle was happening, witch was towards the shadow of the forest ahead of her. She figured if she happened to meet any Orcs there, she would loose them in the trees. But right before she was in the sanctuary of the trees, Daisy (Christine's mind refused to argue further) was grabbed by the hood of her cloak by yet another Orc. All her hope was lost in that second that she looked back into the evil eyes of the thing. But then suddenly, an arrow hit that Orc in the back as well, and with a terrible cry, it died. Daisy, pulled herself free from its grasp and ran soundlessly into the forest. She was suddenly bombarded by darkness so full that it made her stop in her tracks, surprised. Even her keen eyes could barely make out more then shadow in this place, and the air was so stuffy it was hard to breath. But one though filled the young Hobbit's exhausted mind (for that's what Christine felt she was now, a young Hobbit) Find Merry and Pippin. And though she would have liked nothing better than to lay down and sleep for hours and hours and wake up in her own hobbit hole, even if she had to be badgered by the Gaffer until the end of time, she forced herself to keep on going. Her only hope was to find the only people she was sure where still alive in the Fellowship she had been with for so many months. She dared not yell, at least not yet: she though the Orcs where still too close and could hear her. Then they would find her again, and she would be back in the same predicament she was in before, but with no hope of escape.
She had to sleep. She was so exhausted that she could not go on one more minute.she had to stop. She could find Merry and Pippin tomorrow.no. She had to keep on going, who knew how long she would sleep, and Merry and Pippin may not have stopped; they would be long gone by morning if she stopped to sleep. And if she slept, an Orc could come across her and capture her again.But no matter how many reasons her brain could come up with not to sleep, her body would not listen.
Daisy tried to force herself to stay awake, but was suddenly falling to the thick layer to old leaves and moss that covered the forest floor in exhaustion. She tried to throw out her hands to stop her fall, but they where bound, and she was simply too tired.
Suddenly she was awake. A twig had snapped nearby, waking her up immediately. A man, looking oddly familiar, dressed all in white with a huge staff stood above her, a knife in his hand raised above her. SARUMAN!! Her mind screeched. She screamed, a terrified, high pitched scream of a child and tried to throw her hands up to shield her face. * * * Christine was suddenly awake and sitting straight up in her bed, covered in a cold sweat and breathing heavily. The odd necklace, and the heavy golden ring she had always worn around her neck for over a year, ever since she had discovered the magic of Lord of the Rings and had been ensnared, bounced off her upper chest twice: the sudden upward movement of her body sending it bouncing against her. She could feel her heart racing under her skin as she got a grip of herself. It was a clear night and the pale light from the moon and stars outside crept into her room, splashing across the one blanket she used in the summer and the messy floor of her bed room.
It was a dream. Just a dream. She told herself firmly. But it had been so real.surely there was a logical explanation for this? Of course! It was because she read too much Lord of the Rings. She was completely obsessed and all her friends had always told her no good could come of it. That was it. With these thoughts in her head, Christine lay back down and forced herself to fall asleep again. But the last thing she remembered thinking was, Why was my name Daisy then?.
*(Author's note: hope you liked it.if you thought there was not enough actual Middle-Earth in it, trust me, there is more coming. Well, review!! I love to hear how I am doing!! Thanx for reading! -Gill)
