Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters, except Isis and Sasha and Sasha's history teacher. And I don't even own those, because Isis is me, and Sasha is my friend, and Sasha's history teacher is Sasha's history teacher (no duh!) Legolas and Strider and the Ringwraiths and Gandalf and Elrond and Co. are ALL Tolkien's. So. That's it. Please don't sue me, I don't make enough money per year to be able to pay Tolkien Estates for copying his ideas. I think my income this past year has been something like $225. That's counting allowance AND work money. Plus a little extra. And paying Tolkien Estates means real (to me nonexistent, since I don't have it) money. I was just having a little fun. Please do R & R, but be nice -- this is my fist fic
* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
In L.R. (Lower-earth Reckoning, that is, our Earth's Reckoning) September 2002, two young girls were catapulted into Middle-earth, in the year 3018, a little while before the beginning of the War of the Ring. This is their story. ________________________________________________
Chapter 1
Introductions
Isis was sitting in her room, thinking. An book, bought new a week before, was already dogeared, and lying facedown in her lap. She was tall and slender for her fourteen years, with long, waist-length auburn hair, and clear, thoughtful grey eyes. Freckles dotted across her nose, though you didn't really notice them if she was talking to you, and her full-lipped mouth was usually smiling, or laughing.
Right now, though, she didn't feel much like smiling. She had just finished The Return of the King for the fifth time, and she was feeling quite frustrated. There was no way on Earth of her being transported to Middle-earth, and even if there was, what were the chances of her being transported to the right time? She'd probably end up during the Last Alliance, which, considering, wasn't a bad place to be. But it certainly wasn't where she wanted to be. Oh, heck. Maybe if she just got to the Last Alliance and made a name for herself there, then she'd be bestowed with Elvishness till the end of her days. -What wouldn't I give to be an Elf!- she muttered to herself as she drifted off to sleep.
* * *
Sasha was in history class, and, as usual, bored to death. What good was there, after all, in learning about names and dates in the history of a world that was majorly screwing itself up? At least there was something besides homework to look forward to after school -- The Fellowship of the Ring. She had seen the movie twice since it came out, and every time she and Isis saw each other, they would start chatting about how wonderful the movie was. Isis had told her, "Oh Sasha, you have so got to read The Lord of the Rings ! It's sooo cool!" And she had finally gotten around to it. Isis was right. It was cool, and now she was reading it for the second time.
If only she could be in Middle-earth! She knew that she would fit right in. She would never change the way she looked. She was just fine the way she was. She was so used to being in this stupor in her class that for her, dropping into a daydream was easy. She tucked a loose strand of golden-brown hair behind her ear, leaned back, and...
//She was in a smoky bar, wrapped in a cloak and watching her surroundings. A wooden room, the smell of some sort of tobacco in the air, the clamor of voices. At low tables sat hobbits. In a corner sat a figure, cloaked in shadow. -Who can that be?- she wondered. It moved slightly, and a pair of long legs, shod in well-made, mud-caked leather boots that reached up almost to his calves appeared. His face was still shadowy, but it was turned towards one of the tables. He was staring, she realized, at one of the hobbits.//
"Sasha?" Her teacher's voice came clearly out of the murmur of voices in the tavern. "Are you listening to the lesson?"
"Yes." "What did I just say, please?"
"You said that George Washington's military strategies came from one of the most brilliant men of all time."
"Okay So, in the winter of 1764,..." the teacher's voice faded as Sasha went back to her daydream.
* * *
Isis woke up with a start. She listened for a moment to find the reason: the phone was ringing. She picked it up. "Hello?"
"Greetings." A voice she knew, and yet didn't know, answered her.
"Um Sorry. Who is this?"
"You know me not?" The voice was accented, and reminded her of... who was it?
"Um I'm sorry, can't say I do," she replied. There was a silence. Isis was about to hang up the phone, when the voice spoke again, slowly, so that she understood clearly everything that was said.
"All that is gold does not glitter,
not all who wander are lost.
The old that is strong does not wither,
deep roots are not touched by the frost.
From the ashes a fire shall be woken,
a light from the shadows shall spring.
Renewed shall be blade that was broken,
the crownless again shall be king. Click." Whoever it was on the other end hung up.
Isis stared at the phone, shaking. Who could it have been? She pressed the "talk" button, her fingers poised to dial Sasha's number, then stopped herself. Sasha wouldn't be home from school for another two hours. That was silly. Besides, it was probably some kid making a practical joke. Not a big deal. Still, not a lot of people knew about her love of Lord of the Rings. And the people who did -- the people at the chorus, at her language class -- they knew how she would feel if something like that were to happen. If it weren't real, she would be heartbroken. It would be a truly cruel joke to play on her. In that case, it couldn't have been a practical joker.
She dialed, instead, *69, her fingers, she noticed, trembling visibly. Twice she had to redial it, her finger was shaking so much. Finally she got through, and instead of "The number of your last incoming call was...", she got, "We're sorry, but the number you have reached is not available, or private..." She hung up the phone, not feeling much better.
