"Give it to me!" someone was calling.
"No! I won't!" I clutched at my neck and flipped on to my stomach. "I won't! I won't! I... I..."
I opened my eyes slowly, coughed, and pushed myself upright. My shoulder protested with a twinge of pain so I sat back and rubbed it.
Then I looked up and gasped.
Okay, this was NOT my bedroom. I was sitting on a golden bed with impossibly soft sheets. Sunlight streamed in from one window and illuminated the thick carpet and rosy walls. Amazed, I flipped back the covers and stood. I noticed my new clothes - soft white pants and a t-shirt and (just like in the movie) an embroidered jacket with thin gold chains.
"Not bad," I said, twirling around. "Not bad at all." I noticed a mirror at the far end of the room. I walked over to it and grabbed a hairbrush from nearby. Piling my hair on top of my head with one hand and holding the brush beneath my mouth with the other, I began to talk to the mirror.
"Yes, hello, this is Meg Hunter reporting *live* from her dreams. I seemed to have landed in the middle of Rivendell, complete with drifting flower petals and annoying background music. And now, back to you in the real world..." I chuckled and tried a different pose. With a fake accent I said, "Hello, My name is Elijah Wood and I play Frodo Baggins in The Lord of the Rings."
"Pleased to meet you, Elijah."
I yelped and jumped a foot in the air. When I turned, the elf that could only have been Elrond was standing in the doorway.
I put the hairbrush down and let my hair fall back into place. "Well, ah, no, my name is really Meg."
"Just - Meg?"
I bit my lip and nodded. "Yup."
"Well, Meg, how is your wound?"
I put a hand across my shoulder. "It's fine, thanks," I said, quickly. This guy was creepy, and I took a step backwards.
Elrond stared at me. "Nonsense. You had better let me see it."
"It's fine!" I said, taking another step backwards. I grimaced as my shoulder throbbed.
Elrond put hand on my shoulder. The throbbing eased and I sighed. He put his other hand under my chin and forced me to look at him. His eyes were puzzled as he spoke. "Who are you, really?"
"I - I'm Meg."
"No. You are not. Perhaps I should ask, *what* are you? And how did you come by the ring?"
At the mention of the ring I broke away and put a protective hand around it. "It's MINE, okay?"
I paled as I realized what I said.
"Meg!" It was my friends, who swarmed around me, talking happily. "Meg, you're not going to BELIEVE the food here." Or, "Meg, I was so worried about you!" Or "Wait until you see the guys!" Or, "Are you okay?"
Elrond smiled and left quietly, and I spent a cheerful afternoon catching up with my friends. They all had new clothing and looked clean, and I asked them about it.
"Jesus Christ," Dan said, easing into a squashy armchair. "These people are so nice here. Anything you want - bang! - you got it."
"Hm." I said. "Well, what if we don't want it?" I looked down at the ring.
Somewhere in the distance a bell rang. "Dinner!" shouted Shannon, and grabbed my arm.
"Why the rush?" I asked as she dragged me out the door.
"She fancies that elf - what's his name?" Dan asked.
"Legolas!" Peter laughed.
Slowly I began to adjust to Rivendell - the calm days and nights, and the wonderful food, and the strange people.
We were eating breakfast one morning when I noticed an elf staring at Shannon.
"Don't look now," I muttered around a mouthful of bread. "But that guy over there thinks you're hot stuff."
Shannon glanced up then returned to her eggs, bright red. "You think so?" she asked, her voice higher than normal.
I snickered. "Dude, he's looking at your ears!"
Shannon reached out and tucked her hair back. "Well I can see why!" She gave her head a small shake and giggled. I watched as the elf blinked and put his elbow in the butter.
"Who is that, anyway?" I asked as we got up to leave.
"Legolas!" Shannon practically shrieked.
Later that day we visited the archery grounds. I gave up after only a few experimental arrows. They never made it past the halfway mark - I was hopeless.
Shannon, however, was adamant. "Dang it, I'm an elf!" she said, stomping the ground. "I should be better than this." She went to retrieve her arrows from the outer ring of the target.
I rolled my eyes and went to sit on the fence, taking a swig of water from the skin we'd brought.
Shannon yanked her arrows from the padding and jogged back fifty feet. She fitted one to the string, closed her right eye, and shot. The arrow whizzed just above the top of the target.
"Urgh!" Shannon yelled, throwing her bow to the ground. "That's it. I give up." She started to remove her quiver.
"No, don't!" called a soft voice behind me. I jumped and turned - I hadn't heard Legolas come up.
He vaulted the fence and walked towards Shannon, who was standing with her mouth open. Smiling, Legolas picked up her bow and handed it to her. With her mouth still wide open, Shannon took it from his hands.
"For an elf, you're an awfully bad shot," Legolas teased. "You're holding the bow all wrong."
Shannon nodded, and I sent her mental messages to shut her mouth. She looked a bit like a fish.
"Here, let me show you." Legolas stood behind her and put his hands over hers. They raised the bow. "Don't close one eye," he said softly. "It distorts your perspective. Now concentrate on the center of the target."
*Whoosh!* Shannon let the arrow fly and it embedded itself firmly in the bull's eye. "Excellent!" Legolas slapped her back and stepped away.
Shannon turned to face me and I started to laugh. She had that look on her face like little kids right before they wet their pants of joy. The thought only made me laugh harder and I had to grip the fence to keep from falling off.
"Here, try again." Legolas handed Shannon another arrow. She was positively glowing.
"You're friend's getting better." A voice said beside me. I looked down. It was a hobbit - a real hobbit. He had the same curly black hair and startling blue eyes Elijah had in the movie.
"Are - are you Frodo?" I asked.
"I am," the hobbit said, putting a foot up on the bottom rail of the fence and folding his arms over the top. "And you're Meg."
"How did you know?"
"Gandalf told me. Apparently he thinks very highly of you and your friends. Why else would he bring you here?"
"He brought me here?" I asked, flabbergasted. "Get out..."
"It's true, I swear," Frodo said, watching one of Shannon's arrows split the middle of the target. "He says you're a fighter."
"Me? A fighter?" I laughed. "I was even worse than Shannon at archery."
"Maybe your talents are in other areas. Have you ever tried the sword?" Frodo looked up at me, his blue eyes searching mine.
"No," I said, unnerved. "I've never even touched one."
"I could teach you," Frodo offered.
I looked at the little guy - he was serious. I opened my mouth to say no, then hesitated.
Frodo smiled and lifted one eyebrow.
"Aw, what the heck," I said, jumping from the fence. I glanced back at Shannon, who looked like she'd died and gone to heaven. She'd be fine.
"Follow me," Frodo said, and turned away. I chuckled to myself. When I was standing, he was half a head shorter than me. A hobbit? Teach me the sword? Yeah, right.
Fifteen minutes later the clash of metal on metal told me how wrong I was.
Frodo's blade whistled through the air and I blocked it just in time. "Watch my arms," he said. "Watch the muscles and see if you can tell what I'm going to do next."
I nodded and hunched over in the sand of the practice grounds, griping the short blade with two hands.
Frodo lunged, and I smacked his sword away. He parried, then I lunged. With a deft twist he sent my sword spinning out of my hands. I felt "Sting" at my collarbone.
"Not so cocky now, eh?" he asked.
"Oh, shut it."
"As you wish." Frodo bent and picked my blade up. "Try again," he said as he handed it to me.
The minutes ticked by, and I felt rather than saw an audience begin to grow. I worked harder and soon I could go maybe five minutes without having to scrabble for my sword.
I began to tire, and I drew back. "Enough, enough," I said, laughing and wiping sweaty hair from my face.
"Oh, come now," Dan had entered the practice grounds, sword drawn. "I'd like a try at you!"
"Oh really," I said, raising my eyebrows. "We'll just see about that, Giraffe." Dan flinched at his old nickname and then swung.
At first it seemed like the fight would fall to no one. Dan and I blocked, parried, and lunged, neither of us gaining an advantage. But my arm began to ache, and I was slower in blocking his swings. I began to back up, warily, and tripped over my own feet.
Dan stood over me, laughing, his sword pointed right at the ring around my neck. "Who's the hero now?" he asked. "Why don't you give the ring to me?"
"Never!" I gasped, my eyes wide.
Dan growled and then hit my bad shoulder with the side of his blade.
I yelled in pain and Dan stepped back. "Oh, god Meg I'm so sorry! Jesus Christ, I forgot about your shoulder!" His eyes were wide and he looked genuinely sorry. What was up with that?
"Hey now, here now," Frodo said. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." I growled, rubbing my shoulder and standing up. "But I think it's time I talked with this Gandalf," I added quietly.
"No! I won't!" I clutched at my neck and flipped on to my stomach. "I won't! I won't! I... I..."
I opened my eyes slowly, coughed, and pushed myself upright. My shoulder protested with a twinge of pain so I sat back and rubbed it.
Then I looked up and gasped.
Okay, this was NOT my bedroom. I was sitting on a golden bed with impossibly soft sheets. Sunlight streamed in from one window and illuminated the thick carpet and rosy walls. Amazed, I flipped back the covers and stood. I noticed my new clothes - soft white pants and a t-shirt and (just like in the movie) an embroidered jacket with thin gold chains.
"Not bad," I said, twirling around. "Not bad at all." I noticed a mirror at the far end of the room. I walked over to it and grabbed a hairbrush from nearby. Piling my hair on top of my head with one hand and holding the brush beneath my mouth with the other, I began to talk to the mirror.
"Yes, hello, this is Meg Hunter reporting *live* from her dreams. I seemed to have landed in the middle of Rivendell, complete with drifting flower petals and annoying background music. And now, back to you in the real world..." I chuckled and tried a different pose. With a fake accent I said, "Hello, My name is Elijah Wood and I play Frodo Baggins in The Lord of the Rings."
"Pleased to meet you, Elijah."
I yelped and jumped a foot in the air. When I turned, the elf that could only have been Elrond was standing in the doorway.
I put the hairbrush down and let my hair fall back into place. "Well, ah, no, my name is really Meg."
"Just - Meg?"
I bit my lip and nodded. "Yup."
"Well, Meg, how is your wound?"
I put a hand across my shoulder. "It's fine, thanks," I said, quickly. This guy was creepy, and I took a step backwards.
Elrond stared at me. "Nonsense. You had better let me see it."
"It's fine!" I said, taking another step backwards. I grimaced as my shoulder throbbed.
Elrond put hand on my shoulder. The throbbing eased and I sighed. He put his other hand under my chin and forced me to look at him. His eyes were puzzled as he spoke. "Who are you, really?"
"I - I'm Meg."
"No. You are not. Perhaps I should ask, *what* are you? And how did you come by the ring?"
At the mention of the ring I broke away and put a protective hand around it. "It's MINE, okay?"
I paled as I realized what I said.
"Meg!" It was my friends, who swarmed around me, talking happily. "Meg, you're not going to BELIEVE the food here." Or, "Meg, I was so worried about you!" Or "Wait until you see the guys!" Or, "Are you okay?"
Elrond smiled and left quietly, and I spent a cheerful afternoon catching up with my friends. They all had new clothing and looked clean, and I asked them about it.
"Jesus Christ," Dan said, easing into a squashy armchair. "These people are so nice here. Anything you want - bang! - you got it."
"Hm." I said. "Well, what if we don't want it?" I looked down at the ring.
Somewhere in the distance a bell rang. "Dinner!" shouted Shannon, and grabbed my arm.
"Why the rush?" I asked as she dragged me out the door.
"She fancies that elf - what's his name?" Dan asked.
"Legolas!" Peter laughed.
Slowly I began to adjust to Rivendell - the calm days and nights, and the wonderful food, and the strange people.
We were eating breakfast one morning when I noticed an elf staring at Shannon.
"Don't look now," I muttered around a mouthful of bread. "But that guy over there thinks you're hot stuff."
Shannon glanced up then returned to her eggs, bright red. "You think so?" she asked, her voice higher than normal.
I snickered. "Dude, he's looking at your ears!"
Shannon reached out and tucked her hair back. "Well I can see why!" She gave her head a small shake and giggled. I watched as the elf blinked and put his elbow in the butter.
"Who is that, anyway?" I asked as we got up to leave.
"Legolas!" Shannon practically shrieked.
Later that day we visited the archery grounds. I gave up after only a few experimental arrows. They never made it past the halfway mark - I was hopeless.
Shannon, however, was adamant. "Dang it, I'm an elf!" she said, stomping the ground. "I should be better than this." She went to retrieve her arrows from the outer ring of the target.
I rolled my eyes and went to sit on the fence, taking a swig of water from the skin we'd brought.
Shannon yanked her arrows from the padding and jogged back fifty feet. She fitted one to the string, closed her right eye, and shot. The arrow whizzed just above the top of the target.
"Urgh!" Shannon yelled, throwing her bow to the ground. "That's it. I give up." She started to remove her quiver.
"No, don't!" called a soft voice behind me. I jumped and turned - I hadn't heard Legolas come up.
He vaulted the fence and walked towards Shannon, who was standing with her mouth open. Smiling, Legolas picked up her bow and handed it to her. With her mouth still wide open, Shannon took it from his hands.
"For an elf, you're an awfully bad shot," Legolas teased. "You're holding the bow all wrong."
Shannon nodded, and I sent her mental messages to shut her mouth. She looked a bit like a fish.
"Here, let me show you." Legolas stood behind her and put his hands over hers. They raised the bow. "Don't close one eye," he said softly. "It distorts your perspective. Now concentrate on the center of the target."
*Whoosh!* Shannon let the arrow fly and it embedded itself firmly in the bull's eye. "Excellent!" Legolas slapped her back and stepped away.
Shannon turned to face me and I started to laugh. She had that look on her face like little kids right before they wet their pants of joy. The thought only made me laugh harder and I had to grip the fence to keep from falling off.
"Here, try again." Legolas handed Shannon another arrow. She was positively glowing.
"You're friend's getting better." A voice said beside me. I looked down. It was a hobbit - a real hobbit. He had the same curly black hair and startling blue eyes Elijah had in the movie.
"Are - are you Frodo?" I asked.
"I am," the hobbit said, putting a foot up on the bottom rail of the fence and folding his arms over the top. "And you're Meg."
"How did you know?"
"Gandalf told me. Apparently he thinks very highly of you and your friends. Why else would he bring you here?"
"He brought me here?" I asked, flabbergasted. "Get out..."
"It's true, I swear," Frodo said, watching one of Shannon's arrows split the middle of the target. "He says you're a fighter."
"Me? A fighter?" I laughed. "I was even worse than Shannon at archery."
"Maybe your talents are in other areas. Have you ever tried the sword?" Frodo looked up at me, his blue eyes searching mine.
"No," I said, unnerved. "I've never even touched one."
"I could teach you," Frodo offered.
I looked at the little guy - he was serious. I opened my mouth to say no, then hesitated.
Frodo smiled and lifted one eyebrow.
"Aw, what the heck," I said, jumping from the fence. I glanced back at Shannon, who looked like she'd died and gone to heaven. She'd be fine.
"Follow me," Frodo said, and turned away. I chuckled to myself. When I was standing, he was half a head shorter than me. A hobbit? Teach me the sword? Yeah, right.
Fifteen minutes later the clash of metal on metal told me how wrong I was.
Frodo's blade whistled through the air and I blocked it just in time. "Watch my arms," he said. "Watch the muscles and see if you can tell what I'm going to do next."
I nodded and hunched over in the sand of the practice grounds, griping the short blade with two hands.
Frodo lunged, and I smacked his sword away. He parried, then I lunged. With a deft twist he sent my sword spinning out of my hands. I felt "Sting" at my collarbone.
"Not so cocky now, eh?" he asked.
"Oh, shut it."
"As you wish." Frodo bent and picked my blade up. "Try again," he said as he handed it to me.
The minutes ticked by, and I felt rather than saw an audience begin to grow. I worked harder and soon I could go maybe five minutes without having to scrabble for my sword.
I began to tire, and I drew back. "Enough, enough," I said, laughing and wiping sweaty hair from my face.
"Oh, come now," Dan had entered the practice grounds, sword drawn. "I'd like a try at you!"
"Oh really," I said, raising my eyebrows. "We'll just see about that, Giraffe." Dan flinched at his old nickname and then swung.
At first it seemed like the fight would fall to no one. Dan and I blocked, parried, and lunged, neither of us gaining an advantage. But my arm began to ache, and I was slower in blocking his swings. I began to back up, warily, and tripped over my own feet.
Dan stood over me, laughing, his sword pointed right at the ring around my neck. "Who's the hero now?" he asked. "Why don't you give the ring to me?"
"Never!" I gasped, my eyes wide.
Dan growled and then hit my bad shoulder with the side of his blade.
I yelled in pain and Dan stepped back. "Oh, god Meg I'm so sorry! Jesus Christ, I forgot about your shoulder!" His eyes were wide and he looked genuinely sorry. What was up with that?
"Hey now, here now," Frodo said. "Are you all right?"
"I'm fine." I growled, rubbing my shoulder and standing up. "But I think it's time I talked with this Gandalf," I added quietly.