Disclaimer: In a perfect world, I would own LOTR, along with the Animorphs.
However, I don't! :(
WAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH. However, I do
own Aithril, Cethebra.... etc.
Thank you to my one and only reviewer, Ruby Proudfoot. Lol, I love the last name! Thanx so much! Believe it or not, you gave me the idea for the end of this chapter. I'm not sure how, it just kind of popped into my warped and twisted brain soon after reading your review. :D Anyway, you don't want to listen to me ramble! On with the chappie! Mush! Mush! lmao!
We've Missed Second Breakfast!
Cethebra sighed, closing the book with a snap. She had been expecting this. "All right," she said quietly. Aithril looked up from the carpet where she had been staring, surprised. SHE had been expecting more of a fight. "Why do you agree so readily?" asked the elf.
Her friend took a deep breath. "Ok, this is going to sound very very... ruthless... but to get to the point..... I know you feel like you don't fit in, and don't have a place here because of your ears. Now, you have the chance to go to another world full of adventure, and excitement, and horses." she added, smiling through tears that had somehow leaked from her eyes. "And elves! With ears like yours! You'll fit in!"
Aithril laughed, the sound musical to hear. "You have summed it up perfectly!" she cried, running over to Cethebra and hugging her. Cethebra grasped her tightly in one fierce squeeze, then looked at her face, as if (and probably) for the last time. "I'll miss you a lot," said Aithril softly.
"Same," whispered Cethebra, and they shook hands formally in parting.
"Oh no!" cried Pippin suddenly. "We've missed second breakfast!" Merry smacked him. "Shut yer trap! It's an emotional moment!" he hissed.
Aithril turned back to the Fellowship. "Well? Will you have me? I would offer you my bow, or my sword, or even an axe-" Gimli grinned. "-but I have none." She knelt in front of them, green eyes looking earnestly up into their faces. "However, I will do my best to help the Fellowship destroy The Ring. I will go with you into the very fires of Mount Doom."
Gandalf's face broke into a smile. "Then I will advise you on how to do it." "I will teach you how to use a bow," Legolas stepped forward, face serious. "I could.... teach you how to cook over a fire?" offered Sam.
The elf grinned excitedly. "I shall gladly learn all three!"
***
Meanwhile, something had been bothering Aragorn in the very deepest parts of his mind. *Aithril?* he wondered. *Where have I heard that name before? In a rhyme, or perhaps lore?* Then, as the elf in question asked to join them, it hit him like lightning.
In a time far beyond our own, From a different land and different home, An elf will come that is the one, None will be right till her deed is done.
Blood is the color of her hair, Her face is perilous and fair, Dark green is the color of her eyes, Do not fear; they speak no lies.
She will help achieve the quest, Set upon the very best Of dwarves, elves, and bravest men, Together, a Fellowship of Ten.
Aithril! Aithril!
Aragorn remembered, long ago, in Rivendell when he heard an elf sing this song. "It is called, 'The Chosen One'," said the elf. "My grandmother sang it to me when I was very young!"
*Then.... Aithril... she is it?* Aragorn took in a deep breath. *She might make all the difference in our world...... and it is indeed as the ancient kings say....*
***
Cethebra placed her hand lightly on Gandalf's staff. "I call upon the forces of light for energy!" she cried, and the room began to pulse with a strange light. The Fellowship stood inside a circle made of salt in Aithril's living room. Legolas had provided her with some extra clothing from his pack. No one would have recognized Aithril now, even if her own father had peeked in the window. She had brought a special blanket of hers that always seemed warm, and some food in a pack that Frodo had helped adjust on her back. She was ready.
"Reveal yourself, Portal 29!" Cethebra shouted, and a white hole appeared in the wall of the house. "Enter it!" she smiled at the Fellowship, whose party now numbered ten. "And good luck!" One by the one, the Ten Companions entered the portal. When Aragorn, the last to disappear into it, had vanished, Cethebra commanded, "Begone!" The room returned to normal. Carefully sweeping the sand out into the garden, the witch locked her friend's former home and leapt onto her motorcycle. She revved the engine and took off down the street, feeling as though a wrong done long ago had just been righted.
***
Aithril was flying, no, falling, no, falling with style (ooc: thanx toy story! lol) into a white vortex. She was suddenly spit out into the cold air of Middle-Earth. Make that HIGH in the cold air of Middle-Earth. Finally, our hero hit the ground with her head, knocking her temporarily unconcious.
ooc: so? was it good or bad? and, actually Ruby Proudfoot, I was wrong. The part you inspired me with is either in the next chappie, or the one after that.... oh well! it's the thought that counts!
whew, I made up that poem myself! I'm so proud! *sniffs*
Thank you to my one and only reviewer, Ruby Proudfoot. Lol, I love the last name! Thanx so much! Believe it or not, you gave me the idea for the end of this chapter. I'm not sure how, it just kind of popped into my warped and twisted brain soon after reading your review. :D Anyway, you don't want to listen to me ramble! On with the chappie! Mush! Mush! lmao!
We've Missed Second Breakfast!
Cethebra sighed, closing the book with a snap. She had been expecting this. "All right," she said quietly. Aithril looked up from the carpet where she had been staring, surprised. SHE had been expecting more of a fight. "Why do you agree so readily?" asked the elf.
Her friend took a deep breath. "Ok, this is going to sound very very... ruthless... but to get to the point..... I know you feel like you don't fit in, and don't have a place here because of your ears. Now, you have the chance to go to another world full of adventure, and excitement, and horses." she added, smiling through tears that had somehow leaked from her eyes. "And elves! With ears like yours! You'll fit in!"
Aithril laughed, the sound musical to hear. "You have summed it up perfectly!" she cried, running over to Cethebra and hugging her. Cethebra grasped her tightly in one fierce squeeze, then looked at her face, as if (and probably) for the last time. "I'll miss you a lot," said Aithril softly.
"Same," whispered Cethebra, and they shook hands formally in parting.
"Oh no!" cried Pippin suddenly. "We've missed second breakfast!" Merry smacked him. "Shut yer trap! It's an emotional moment!" he hissed.
Aithril turned back to the Fellowship. "Well? Will you have me? I would offer you my bow, or my sword, or even an axe-" Gimli grinned. "-but I have none." She knelt in front of them, green eyes looking earnestly up into their faces. "However, I will do my best to help the Fellowship destroy The Ring. I will go with you into the very fires of Mount Doom."
Gandalf's face broke into a smile. "Then I will advise you on how to do it." "I will teach you how to use a bow," Legolas stepped forward, face serious. "I could.... teach you how to cook over a fire?" offered Sam.
The elf grinned excitedly. "I shall gladly learn all three!"
***
Meanwhile, something had been bothering Aragorn in the very deepest parts of his mind. *Aithril?* he wondered. *Where have I heard that name before? In a rhyme, or perhaps lore?* Then, as the elf in question asked to join them, it hit him like lightning.
In a time far beyond our own, From a different land and different home, An elf will come that is the one, None will be right till her deed is done.
Blood is the color of her hair, Her face is perilous and fair, Dark green is the color of her eyes, Do not fear; they speak no lies.
She will help achieve the quest, Set upon the very best Of dwarves, elves, and bravest men, Together, a Fellowship of Ten.
Aithril! Aithril!
Aragorn remembered, long ago, in Rivendell when he heard an elf sing this song. "It is called, 'The Chosen One'," said the elf. "My grandmother sang it to me when I was very young!"
*Then.... Aithril... she is it?* Aragorn took in a deep breath. *She might make all the difference in our world...... and it is indeed as the ancient kings say....*
***
Cethebra placed her hand lightly on Gandalf's staff. "I call upon the forces of light for energy!" she cried, and the room began to pulse with a strange light. The Fellowship stood inside a circle made of salt in Aithril's living room. Legolas had provided her with some extra clothing from his pack. No one would have recognized Aithril now, even if her own father had peeked in the window. She had brought a special blanket of hers that always seemed warm, and some food in a pack that Frodo had helped adjust on her back. She was ready.
"Reveal yourself, Portal 29!" Cethebra shouted, and a white hole appeared in the wall of the house. "Enter it!" she smiled at the Fellowship, whose party now numbered ten. "And good luck!" One by the one, the Ten Companions entered the portal. When Aragorn, the last to disappear into it, had vanished, Cethebra commanded, "Begone!" The room returned to normal. Carefully sweeping the sand out into the garden, the witch locked her friend's former home and leapt onto her motorcycle. She revved the engine and took off down the street, feeling as though a wrong done long ago had just been righted.
***
Aithril was flying, no, falling, no, falling with style (ooc: thanx toy story! lol) into a white vortex. She was suddenly spit out into the cold air of Middle-Earth. Make that HIGH in the cold air of Middle-Earth. Finally, our hero hit the ground with her head, knocking her temporarily unconcious.
ooc: so? was it good or bad? and, actually Ruby Proudfoot, I was wrong. The part you inspired me with is either in the next chappie, or the one after that.... oh well! it's the thought that counts!
whew, I made up that poem myself! I'm so proud! *sniffs*
