A/N: BWAHAHA! I am back, hooray! New chapter!
Now, if you have noticed my new picture—it is not the new cover, it's my new profile pic, and it's of me! I drew it, and then painted it on my laptop. You can't see it because cropped it, but I'm holding a book labelled 'Lord of the Rings'. :D
In this chapter we get to see the last instalment of the Gully flashbacks! I have some other flashback scenes in mind, but this is the last of the gully ones. Yay!
Review replies:
Scarlet Pimpernel00: Glad you liked the chapter, and the mushroom convo! Does Pippin have a thing for Lola? Hmmm… do you want Pippin to have a thing for Lola? Because it's totally your choice how you interpret their relationship. Keep in mind, however, that because of the height difference (I don't think Middle Earth is quite ready for three-quarterlings yet!) because they're kinda on a mission to save the world, and because Diamond/Pippin is Lola's OTP (and mine), there will be no romance between them. But, honestly, you'll just have to decide yourself if Pippin has a thing for Lola. :)
Melissa: Honestly, feel free to write a real long review! I personally love long reviews, because they give me a better insight into how you feel about what I'm writing, what I'm doing good, and what I should stop doing. :) I try to write longish, insightful reviews on every story I read (which is sometimes hard, but oh well!) :D I very glad you liked Lola's scene at the end, because I truly did pour all my feelings into it (as I said in the last chapter, Aphrodite really is messin' with my brain—which is not playing well with me seeing as I'm a daughter of Hades!) I really hate how we always fall in love with the people we can't have. :(
TIME FOR CHAPTER! Meanwhile, I should go practise my flute…
…..
[12th October 2013]
Continuation of Gully Flashback
Julia waited at the bottom of the hill while Lola, Tran and Ginny walked up the top. Tran was right—it was totally pointless. There was nothing to see but grass, and a view of the gully itself (but that wasn't exactly a sight for sore eyes—or sore asses in Tran's case).
So they began the treacherous journey down.
"Careful, Ginny," Lola bit her lip as she navigated her way down the slope.
"Runwalking—win!" Ginny cheered, waving her extremely sharp stick around enthusiastically.
"Be careful with that stick—it's really sharp!" Lola reminded her.
They managed to make their way down without any casualties.
Julia was waiting for them. "Who's gonna be brave enough to hold back the electric fence?"
"Ginny's got a stick, she can do it," Lola shrugged.
"I wouldn't hold it with—" Tran began.
"OOH! Dock, dock, dock, dock!" Lola cried, pointing to a leafy green patch amongst the tussocky grass. They stopped to check it out.
"Oh, yay," Julia grinned.
Ginny plucked some leaves and distributed them in the foursome.
"Ok, so, how do we do it?" Tran laughed.
"Huh, I dunno," Lola laughed too.
"You just rub it," Ginny guessed.
"Is it the gel, or…" Julia asked.
"It's just… rubbing it, I dunno. I think it's the juices from inside," Ginny shrugged, "Do you guys wanna do it back at the house? It might be better…"
They decided this was a most wise decision of Ginny's, and made their way towards the fence.
"I dare you, Tran, to touch the electric fence!" Julia poked her Thai friend.
"No thank-you."
"Touch it with the back of your hand," Lola advised, "If you touch it with the front of your hand, and it's electric, you'll start gripping onto it, get electrocuted, and won't be able to let go."
"Wait, what?" Julia wrinkled up her nose, "How does that work?"
"I dunno," Lola shrugged, "Some crap I learnt in science last year."
"Yeah, but that's only if it's really, really powerful," Ginny added.
"True," A sceptical look came over Lola's face. "But we don't know how powerful it is…!"
"Is it even on?" Tran wondered.
"I dunno," Lola said. "Although, didn't we like, figure out it wasn't last time we encountered it?"
"Meh. We have short attention spans." Julia grinned. "Besides, it could have been turned on since then."
"Doubt it," Lola raised her eyebrows.
They stood in front of the fence, silently daring each other to touch it. Julia whimpered dramatically.
"It's not on," Ginny reminded them.
"Someone suddenly turns it on," Lola grinned.
"Tran, you touch it first!" Julia pushed Tran forward.
"Oh my god, I'll go touch it," Ginny decided, using her stick to create a space for the to crawl under.
Tran went first, and Julia after. As she went through, Tran picked a leaf and threw it.
"Don't throw leaves at her, Tran!" Lola scolded him.
"I'm running away!" Tran decided, running in slow motion through the grass. Unfortunately, he hit a stone and fell over.
"Oi, I thought you were trying to keep your t-shirt clean," Julia reminded him.
"Wow, it's actually so clean, even after all that," Lola (who was now through the fence) laughed, pointing to the nearly spotless shirt.
Once they had got past the fence, the settled into a leisurely pace across the flat(ish) ground. All were tired and glad of this break from gorse.
"Hey, I don't wanna be Gandalf," Julia scowled. "Why does no one wanna be Gandalf?"
"I'm Aragorn!" Lola chortled. "It was originally just Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. Tran made it up—Tran's Gandalf."
"Gandalf's ugly, that's why," Julia decided.
"He's hotter than Dumbledore," Lola told her.
"Dumbledore's freaking cool, man." Julia argued.
"Who do you think it hotter, Ginny—Gandalf or Dumbledore?" Lola asked.
"Uhhh… Gandalf," Ginny said.
"YAY! Julia, Ginny said Gandalf is hotter than Dumbledore!"
"Only because I actually respect Dumbledore," Ginny added, but Lola ignored her.
"Well, he is," Julia rambled, "I mean, Dumbledore's like," She put on an old person's voice, "Ooh, Harry! Light…can be found… in the darkest of times… when one only remembers… to turn on… the light."
"And Gandalf said epic stuff like 'YOU SHALL NOT PASS'. And he has an epic staff, and sword with a massive Tolkien Gateway article on it." Lola waved her arms about enthusiastically.
"And he wears good clothes. And he doesn't tie a bead in his beard,"
"Yeah!"
"I mean, who does that?!"
"Exactly! And Gandalf doesn't wear that weird little cap thing. I dunno what that is."
"Dumbledore doesn't wear that 24/7 though."
"I think I just found a new path," Ginny pointed to a path through more gorse.
"Nah, that was the path at the start where we had to crawl through the grass but nobody wanted to," Lola explained.
"I wanted to!" Tran said.
"Yeah, but that's because…" Lola trailed off, "I dunno."
"But then when you get there you're like," Julia put on a girly voice, "Ooh, ooh, ooh, I don't wanna do it!"
Lola put on a girly voice too, "We should go back now!"
They continued to walk, past the gorse, up the slope, until they could see Lola's house in the distance.
"Hey, there's some, like… bird crap," Lola warned them as they trudged through the long grass.
"Why are you so rude, Lola?" Julia frowned.
"Well, no! It's just…" Lola protested.
"Why don't you say 'bird poo' not 'crap'," Julia continued lecturing about her use of vulgar slang.
"I dunno…"
"And then you go, 'Oh, my ass hurts…'"
"I could say worse," Lola shrugged.
Ginny was already far ahead, the bag slung over her shoulder and her dock leaves speared onto her stick.
"The spit stuff looks like sugar," Julia commented randomly on the insects they had found at the start.
She and Tran then proceeded to spit onto the grass.
"It looks exactly the same!" Tran observed.
"That's disgusting, guys." Lola wrinkled her nose, "Don't spit on the plants. Oh, hey, Ginny's found a flower."
Ginny had indeed found a flower and examined it carefully, before spearing it onto her stick with her dock leaves.
The foursome trudged their way up the slope and finally reached the big wooden gate. Ginny was first there—she pushed it open and they made their way through onto Lola's property.
"Oof!" Julia collapsed on the deck. "My legs are tired."
"Yeah," Lola agreed, staring out over the gully. With her friends, she had conquered it.
We could do anything, she thought.
Little did she know, her judgement was, one day, to be severely tested.
End Flashback
…..
[11th January, T.A. 3019]
Julia lay on her blanket, watching the sky burning up in shades of orange to salmon-pink. It was evening and the sunset was making her sleepy.
Beside her, Tran and Lola spoke in low voices as they studied the maps, using Tran's map skills and Lola's knowledge of the Tolkien universe to decide where the Fellowship would most likely come down from Caradhras—for that was where they had gone, and the foursome were awaiting their return.
A few metres away, sitting in solitude, was Ginny, whittling a stick with her sword.
Julia rolled over to look at Lola and Tran. She watched as Tran reached up to scratch his chin, where the beginnings of a beard were beginning to form.
She snorted in amusement. It just showed how rough they were living, she decided. It wasn't necessarily a bad thing. Out here in the wild, with only a few resources to hand and a sword by her side, Julia felt primitive and dangerous.
She yawned and rolled back onto her back. Slowly, slowly, she felt herself being lulled to sleep.
…..
Julia's eyes fluttered open. She felt childlike, small and innocent, fragile and precious.
The white room seemed suddenly too vast and treacherous for her to perceive. For within her dreams she had come to realize she heard and saw things that were thrice as valuable as her soul, of which she could not understand. It all seemed too frightening and huge.
She bit her lip to stop herself from screaming, and she heard a whisper come from nowhere, like the wind it floated, and settled in her mind.
"Tricky business are dream chambers; in thou child's mind messages are manipulated. Try thy best; but in thy mind keep note that the world's perish will be at thy hands if thy does not comprehend our message,"
Julia frowned. The beginnings of a thought were forming in her mind.
"Are you a Valar too?" She asked.
"I am the breath of Arda; the sighing of the breeze through the forest, the pant of wings against the pale sky—my condensing breath forms the mist on the mountains."
"Nice," Julia wrinkled up her nose, before realizing she was probably speaking to a god, and smiled. "So… do you know Varda?"
"She is my spouse."
Julia felt quite pleased with her progress. She had never been able to speak to someone in one of her dreams before. It would, hopefully, make it easier to interpret.
The voice obviously thought so too, because it said:
"Does thy understand me?"
"Yes." Julia replied.
There was a pause.
"That is excellent. Irmo has done well—but it is a strain for him. We only have a short space of time to discuss what must be discussed!"
"Who's Irmo?" Julia asked, feeling a little out of depth.
The wind made a noise, which could have been a sigh.
"Summoner of visions, weaver of dreams."
"So… the god of what?"
"There is no time for this!"
The wind shot past her ear angrily. She jumped back, surprised.
The voice softened a little. "We must make haste. We have much to discuss. The strain is great."
"Ok," Julia nodded.
"Now. There really is no time for the back-story, though it should be told—"
"Can I have one quick question—please!" Julia said hastily, "Why am I getting these dreams, and not my peers?"
"Full of queries!" The voice muttered in anger, "Dear child, you have no idea of dream-planting? It is because your mind is a whole lot easier to enter than theirs. Their guards are up—all three of them—while your mind is quite open and innocent."
"Oh," Julia raised her eyebrows.
"If I may continue… good. Now you see—"
A string of what sounded like curses weaved through the breeze.
"Spawn of Melkor! There is no time! Listen, quick!"
"Ok," Julia said hastily.
"Save Arda. Stop Arthalion. Seek the unsought lands, seek—"
But it was too late. The voice was cut off, the dream chamber disappeared, and Julia was flung back into the conscious world.
…..
[12th January, T.A. 3019]
Gimli was positively freezing.
He had never, ever been this cold in his life.
Caradhras was as cruel as ever. The cold, at first, had not been able to reach him through his armour and garb, but the mountain was relentless and the snow was forever probing, trying to get in.
And now he was cold. Colder than the depths of the mountain, colder that the bitter winds of Forodwaith.
He was torn out of his thoughts by Legolas:
"The strongest may seek a way, say you? But I say: let a ploughman plough, but choose an otter for swimming, and for running light over grass and leaf, or over snow—an Elf," Legolas, nimble as a cat, sprang over the snow, his feet seemingly hovering above the ground. They made little imprint in the ice. "Farewell—I go to find the Sun."
Gimli snorted. Arrogant elf, he thought—and not for the first or last time. Thinks he's so great.
Gimli thought this, but he did envy the elf's ability to walk on top of snow. Especially seeing as he himself was partially buried under the stuff.
He would never, ever, even under pain of death, admit he was jealous of the abilities of an elf. Ptff! Dwarves were so hardy they did not need to walk on top of snow to survive it.
And, as Gimli was representing the dwarves in this fellowship—he would never complain.
Gimli suddenly wished he hadn't thought about that, for he was not yet sure that dwarves could endure the dark recesses of their minds. For there was something dark and gloomy lurking in his own mind, and slowly it was consuming his thoughts.
Gimli had been sent on this quest to represent his entire kindred—a big ask, for any dwarf.
But Gimli was not just any dwarf—Gimli was son of Gloin, one of the companions of Thorin Oakenshield, one of the company of thirteen dwarves (and one hobbit) whom sought and reclaimed the great dwarf city of Erebor.
Gimli was representing the entire race of dwarves, yes—but he was also representing his father, Thorin's company, and the bravery that brought back the Lonely Mountain and the hoards of gold under it.
Gulp.
Thorin's company were remembered in songs, verses of bravery and joy that rumbled across the tongue with most satisfactory—the dragon smote across the lake, a thousand voices rejoicing, the gold within the mountain reclaimed.
Would he be remembered in song and verse, Gimli wondered? It was a perilous and bleak quest, one thrice more important than Thorin's. If it succeeded, what would be held in store for the heroes?
What but song, and applause, and remembrance throughout all history! Gimli could hear the trumpets ring; the nine had returned, and Sauron was vanquished…
But the grim dwarf stiffened up. What if the songs were laments, laments to a loss of good in this world, the evil that wracked the land…
…and the dwarf who could not live up to the legend of his father.
…
A/N: I'm doing an insecurity for every person in the Fellowship (yes, including Gandalf) and I thought Gimli would be difficult, but turns out he wasn't! Gandalf will be hard, and maybe Aragorn, but not Frodo. Which is the only three I have left now. Wheee!
I hope you liked the chapter—review! Tell me what you thought of Julia's dream (I went a bit Shakespeare in one part), I think it's pretty obvious which Valar she was speaking to! I wonder who Arthalion is…
Next chapter will definitely feature the Mines of Moria, I promise!
Mr Precious: For every review she gets, I get an apple pie!
Pippin: *grumpily* And I get an hour of fresh air!
And I get an insight into your thoughts about my fanfiction, so REVIEW!