yeah, in your dreams, Dacey (Daisy, Majick). Actually, I was sleepin, after staying up til 530 wathcing my kewl Dvd, Extended LORD of THe Rings. And then getting up at 7 to leave the house by 8 to go to Oz, cuz my flying monkey was afraid we'd get there after lunch. I got there, oh 1130, 12. we didnt eat till 1 30 or so. gggrrrffff. THen I slept, and ThEN I read my new LOTR books......
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A plan slowly formed in my mind as my dragonish form blurred past stationary trees and my powerful wings gulped up the air. I would mess around with the puny brain cells of these wraith-jerks and then go to Mama Dragon, hauling tail back to Nicolas. From there, I would check on him, and then fly back to Rivendell, where I would crash for a vvveerrrryyy long time. Like a year. Maybe two.
After time, near dawn, I found a small gathering of four Riders. Fangs bared in a grin, I thought of my daring, and most likely suicidal, plan. I mentally shrugged. It didn't matter what I did, or if I died. I could help save six, no seven, lives if this worked. If.
Three minutes later, microscopic creature flew over to the wraiths, and landed on one. Then, without warning, It started to flash, exactly like the strobe light the inspiration had come from. A horse reared at the sudden blinding flashes, and before any of the bewildered wraiths knew what was happening, the source of light flew in the middle of them. And began to expand like a giant balloon.
Laughing, for look on their ghost like faces I could now see in my own flashing light was one of amazed disbelief, I launched myself up into the trees and exploded into Mama Dragon. I heard the piercing war cries from below and knew I had sufficiently caught their attention.
Lazily, so I was flying slow enough for the black figures below to keep me in sight, I began to drift in figure eights, occasionally aiming a small fire bomb at my ground pursuers. I let this continue until we were at the very edge of the forest, where they had first started until I let loose one massive roar that shook the nearby trees. With one last flaming spitball at the emerging wraiths before flapping my wings furiously and flying off into the distance as the enraged shriek of the wraiths told me they could not keep up.
Once the forest was out of sight, I turned around and made for the spot I had left Nicolas. I finally reached it two and a half hours later with a soft touch down. Quickly I returned to human form and rushed over to his still form.
Asleep and untouched. I heaved a tired sigh of unmistakable relief, despite the fact that Aragorn had told me if they, Frodo and for some reason Nicolas, did not fight, they would turn into wraiths, servants to the servants. Already Nicolas was visibly worse and I did not need to see his eyes to know they would be pale and lifeless, empty of any vitality and therefore without color, save a silver glow.
I let out a soft curse or two. Actually, it was thirteen. But you try going without food for who knows how long and being short on sleep, not to mention energy, and the knowledge that you'd have to haul some guy's bum back to Rivendell to save him even though you don't like 'im, and not be a tad bit on the testy side.
Five minutes later, a navy dragon clutching a non-screaming man flew away from the spot where I had first come as a wild mare. With my luck, my nice little sleeping potion would wear off somewhere over the forest and Man-With-No-Brains would wake up and decide that to solve the problem of flying over a forest and being clutched by dragon talons, he'd start screamin' his poor wittle nearly-dead head off. I snorted, and a flicker off flame brushed my nostrils.
Some time later, I was over the edges of a bustling/ deserted Rivendell. I had lost count of how many times I had mentally chanted '99 Bottles of Beer on The Wall', 'Little Bunny Foo-Foo', and had been on 'This is the Song That Never Ends' for the past half hour. I was exhausted from my numerous changes and flight to and from the woods. It just happened that I was in one of those moods where ya just wanna punch someone, or yell at them for no reason.
Silently, I shrunk my size to a small as I could and still carry Sleeping Beauty. My touchdown on a balcony near Arwen's rooms was anything except smooth and gentle; I actually cracked the stone and ripped off a good chunk of the railing.
Almost before I had settled, Arwen had rushed onto her deck and caught me changing to human form. She was inspecting Nicolas' still form and calling for Elrond when I sat up.
Elrond appeared quickly and rushed over to Nicolas, who had opened his eyes. They gleamed like bits of a mirror, unnaturally bright and reflective of a silver light. Worried, he knelt down and I started telling them of what I had seen and done since Elrond had last seen me gallop away from sight.
When I got to the part of Aragorn, his lover gasped and fled to her rooms. I spoke over the sounds of her scrambling to change into riding dress and arm herself. Running back onto the deck she said hurried good-byes. Minutes later the pounding off a horse's hooves echoed from the stables as she left to search out the lost. Pausing in my tale, I mentally wished her all the luck I knew of.
A low moan came from Nicolas, and I stood up and held back the thin and veil like curtains to Arwen's room, allowing Elrond to carry Nicolas inside. There I was told to get some sleep, and for once I listened. Groggily I ignored the headache that had overcome my head while talking and made my way to my own rooms. My eyes wee closed and I was asleep even before I had finished falling onto my bed.
~*~*~**~*~~*~*~*~*~
I woke up mid-afternoon the next day, groggy, thirsty, and hungry, but a quick trip to the kitchens solved those. Sugary pastries do wonders to wake me up. Almost as good as diet pop* back when I was in good ol' Earth. I sighed and wandered around the halls, checking for Nicolas and/or Elrond as the effects of the sugar began to take effect.
Whistling, I checked the halls to make sure no one was watching and changed into a nice, jet black bunny. Who began hopping around Rivendell like it had consumed all the sugar in existence. Wow, that musta been some pastry, cuz I was just zooming around. Literally, I was bouncing off the walls.
Which was all very nice for about two hours. Before I ran right into Elrond's shins and returned to human form with a smack. Rubbing my head I stood up and cheerily announced to the disgruntled Elf, "Ouch, that hurt! Hellooo, Mr. Elrond!"
Obviously not my normally dark greeting and Elrond winced at the sunshine in my voice. Ignoring him except to stick out my tongue, I started jumping up and down in a circle. Hehehehe, I was really high. Remind me to never, ever eat those things ever again.
Finally, after a few minutes I stopped bouncing and calmed down. Elrond's face was worn, and there were bags under his eyes. "Arwen's not back yet, huh? Well, it'll take a few days. No worries, no worries."
"I have done all I can for Nicolas, and still he continues to fade. There is nothing more I can do, not until Frodo Baggins of the Shirre comes to Rivendell. I have felt a connection that binds the fate of Frodo to that of Nicolas, and it cannot be broken. I fear that were it not for this connection, Nicolas would never have been wounded as if by a Mordor blade. It cannot be broken except for one way, the one way the Ring can be permanently destroyed."
"Well, that's one worry down."
"But I have my worries over you, and what you said that night in the hall."
Groaning, I sat down on a bench. "Lemme guess, this is your guilt trip to makin' me spill the beans on my past."
With a tired look on his face, Elrond answered, "It seems this is the only way to find out about you, and I need to know, for your past may rule the fate of all."
"GGggggrrrrrrfffff" I muttered. "Better get comfy, it's gonna be a long story to tell you."
/////An: due to the fact this is long, I'll break it into paragraphs, but most of the time it's Dri telling her past. /////////
"I was born on a fall afternoon, kickin' and hollerin my head off like the rest of us. Earth was a magickless place, and most believe not in your kind or any besides the race of Man. And Man was pretty sleazy in my place. My birth mother soon after became a drug addict, as she was maybe twenty one and married to a twenty one year old drunk. It was not a happy marriage, and most money went to either booze or drugs.
I had a brother, Alexader. Weird name. I think my parents were drunk and forgot the 'N' in Alexander. As a matter of fact, my full name is Kadrianna, but that's just too girly.
Anywho, Alex was three years older than me.
We looked out for each other, me and Alex. I was ironically the more responsible one. I had a small job walking dogs for this old man. I would disguise myself as a preppy little angel of a kid, pick up the dogs, and then ditch the outfit. I would then walk around with the mutts, and pick pockets. No one suspected the little girl with a pink poodle named Fluffi.
I learned early on to tell how high my mother was, so I could go get her paycheck and buy some food, but mostly she was out of a job with no money. That's why I first turned thief, to eat. My parent fought when they were conscious enough, and I roamed the streets freely. Anyone who wanted to survive that way learned early on how to defend themselves. I survived quite well. I had knifed someone by the time I was nine and burglarized a pretty nice shop by age ten. Rough, for a kid. But I knew no other way of life.
Probably the most important person top me besides Alex, was my best friend, Kara. When I was eight I was on my job, walking dogs, when I saw the girl flit down an alleyway.
I followed. She had a knife, so I thought to steal it, as my last one had broke when I brilliantly dropped it out a six story window in front of a garbage truck. She looked like she only six, so I thought nothing of takin' the knife and figgered she'd probably found it in her kitchen before wanderin off.
Was I ever wrong! That was a fighting blade, and when I tried to snitch it she turned and gave me a pretty slice on my shoulder. It was exactly what I would have done had someone tried to take my knife. We became friends, and I learned she was an orphan, livin' in an ally. She had made her own little house, out of wood leftover from the never-ending construction in the city.
A few weeks later, my father was drunk and started an fight with my mother. He threw his bottle of booze across the room, and pulled outta gun. Mother just screamed at him, drugs clouding her mind just like beer clouded my father's. He killed her, and then himself. Alex and I huddled behind the couch the whole time, holding onto each other.
The neighbors heard and called the police, and we were sent to foster care. But the man was drunk and used the money for beer. It was too similar to our dead parents, so we left. This time, no one knew.
We found a condemned apartment building, and took it over as our own. It was in a run down neighborhood, the slums of the city. Inspectors ignored it as it was a waste o' time. Any that did come near were knifed. Generally by me, but a few were hit in drive-by's by gang members reacting to the invasion of their turf.
Years passed, and Kara and Alex fell in love. I continued my dog walking till the man died. Thieving was an everyday occupation. My neighborhood turned violent, and my life was harder. It was an effort just to get out the door without being shot by the time I had turned seventeen. Police avoided our area, except on sunny, stifling hot days when it was to draining to fight.
Meanwhile I earned a reputation, an anonymous one, too. I was called Shadow Cat by those in the city. All that was known about the Cat that she went around, thieving and constantly wearing black from head to toe. She once broke into a highly guarded museum, only to leave a note that the paintings were very beautiful. Other times she left notes at the police station with clues as to who had killed who in what brawl. And once she stole a pair of combat boots from a general's apartment while he was showering. Later, when the knowledge of the mysterious person was city-wide, the unknown Cat became a hero to some, a vigilante to others. They knew she resided somewhere in the infamous area named 'Fighter's Block' and defended the buildings.
Over the years, there were perhaps twenty bodies found with the distinctive calling card of Shadow Cat: the initials S C cut into the cheek with a knife by quick strokes so as to seem like scratches from a feline. The reason they were found was because a woman reported an unknown assailant, regular punk had attempted rape. The attacker had been stopped, er kicked realllllyyyy hard, and the women ran off. The body would then be found beaten and cut, and of course the initials. Often the dead had raped more than one woman, and had arrest warrants out.
Another body with my mark was that of a kidnapper. Police found the six year old boy victim outside the station, and all he could say was "The nice lady in black brought me here, Mommy!" The kid had obediently gone to the next room before I slit the *&^$*^ of a kidnapper's throat.
Once a lost wallet was returned to a poor woman with a note of apology from "Shadow Cat". I had not known that the woman was so poor when she worked a job as a maid until I found out that because of the woman's immigration much of her money went to the upkeep of her papers.
Over the years people learned to live with the unknown watcher of their safety and sometimes robber of a few dollars or some goods. Many decided that the name Shadow Cat had been aptly given, indeed, due to the Super-heroine the name was originally derived from, due to the heroine's ability to slip through shadows. At least, that's what I heard on the street, in between stealing some food or a few bucks here and there.
Never was I caught, not as thief and not as Shadow Cat, yet always I left my mark, whether on a wall or body. It didn't matter.
I never carried a gun because of the horrors guns did to me. That and they were more easily traced than a replaceable knife.
Later on Kara and Alex legally became man and wife. I was there as witness and maid of honor. Some random guy off the street was the second witness. Those two were as happy as anyone with a million dollars. Kara eventually got pregnant, and we were all slowly working towards getting legitimate jobs. Slowly but surely, we were making honest money, if no very much.
But that ended when a well known gang leader raped and murdered Kara. His name was Hans, and many of his followers were violent second-generation immigrants. The only reason he had still lived was because he covered his tracks too well. Even I couldn't pin anything on him, though part of me always suspected.
Alex found me on the street. I never told anyone, but I had just come from a promising job interview, and had thought about giving thieving up completely. Until I was left with a raging black hole in my heart where Kara had once been.
I stole only a chain to keep her last gift, a ring, on. The rates of those found with the Shadow Cat insignia increased, but now some were left alive, depending on their crimes. No raper lived. It was my wrath, my fury that had me kill. Most of these men I had seen committing crimes before, and had ignored them. Now some one had used that against the ones I loved.
Then one night, I finally stole some grub and nearly botched the job, I returned to home. Alone. And they struck, Hans at the lead. He told me then he had done Kara. Sorrow overwhelmed me as the gaping wound I had been trying so hard to ignore was laid out for all to see. I didn't try to kill, only escape. I had planned long ago that Kara's killer would die painfully, over two hours, like she had done.
I fled. I ran Alex down, and the shooting began. I watched as bullets punched into Alex's chest, and he died. I was alone, with nothing left to live for. I saw a shadow in my room, and called for them to kill me. I remember the crack of the gun and the explosion of pain, the ring on my finger. That's it..
I woke up here. Rivendell did something to me. It was as if the very air spoke and told me there was no reason to fear within these walls. The second day I remember here is vivid. I was walking, and reading the poems carved in trees, where it is called the Lover's Dwelling. I found there a poem, written by a Karalin Inthoyun. The wording was the same, the handwriting the name, all the same.
Kara's full name was Karalin Inthoyun. That's how I know she was an Elf, and has seen Rivendell. I checked the records: she was a friend of the Prince Legolas Greenleaf. It described her in every way, down to a dimple in her left cheek.
Pieces to a puzzle fell into place. In my world there is a trilogy of books that tell of your world. Your kind do not exist in my time, in my world and are regarded as mere fairy tales told to amuse the little kiddies. Only Man is the sentient species, civilized and most ignore the call of trees. Few places are untouched by modernization and retain little of the sense of pureness that exists in your woods. Yet she had a connection with the trees, and I swear to you she would whisper to them, and I could not understand. It was Elvish, Elrond, Elvish that you and I are speaking this moment! Her accent, I now know, is that of the Elves. She constantly talked off the Elves, and Legolas. Once she slipped and said her friend, the prince.
Kara described things like your home, and once described your temper. She was right! By all the gods in existence, she knew things no other could! We had a tree that she used to sit in and read those books that are not regarded as reality but fiction, and told me it was like on at her home. That tree mirrored the one her poem was on!
Despite my solving of a few riddles, there is still the whole to solve. She had not the ears of the Elvish, yet of Elven kind she was. How was she in my world, as a child? And yet a great, mature friend to Legolas. What of this ring? What did she mean by 'saving her'? Who is her? How is it that I am in your world, and can speak or read any tongue I see or hear? How can I change my shape to what I choose? These are the things I need your knowledge to fill in the gap."
Finished at long last, I gazed into Elrond's eyes. Those eyes told of thousands of years beyond count, each with its sorrows and joys and coming into wisdoms. There would be more heartaches and bittersweet moments ahead for this gentle person. Yet his eyes held not the answers to my question.
Getting up, I began to pace. "I have done my own readings, searching for these answers, only to find more clues that enlarged the puzzle rather than diminish. There is a recent book, by your standards, anyways, that tells of the making of a new Ring. This Ring was like the Dwarven metal mitrhil, but different. It was simple, completely devoid of any decoration or design. It could not be harmed, only destroyed when the Ring to which Its fate was bound was also destroyed. I believe the Ring to which It was bound is carried by Frodo, and I carry the Ring created by none other than Karalin Inthoyun and called by Its maker 'Uruuva Mornie' or Fiery Darkness. There is only the idea of Uruuva Mornie's creation, and supposedly there is a way to test it, just as fire tests the dark lord's Ring. Some of this I have learned through books, others through my many travels."
"Indeed, Dri, it seems from what has happened to you do carry Karalin's Gift, as the Elves call it. Lady Karalin Inthoyun studied under the Lady Galadriel after her parents were slain in battle during the Last Alliance. There Kara was allowed to glimpse into the Mirror of Galadriel, and saw all that would come to pass were the Ring returned to Sauron."
"Isildur had the Ring, and only the Lady Karalin knew what would happen, that it would all lead to a small Halfling called Frodo." I spoke as the realization dawned on me.
Elrond nodded gravely and kept talkin, "So in an effort to combat the evil of Sauron's Ring of Power, the lady came to me and said she would be forging a Ring of power to good. She would bind Uruuva's Fate to that of the One Ring. And she did. Her pure intent, however, was not without a price. When the forging had been finished and all the power implanted in Uruuva, both the silver Ring and Its creator disappeared. "
"She was sent to my world!" I gasped out.
"So it seems. Now that darkness has crept back into the corners of the world, and the Dark Lord knows his Ring is not destroyed but merely lost, you come bearing Karalin's gift. You are the Light-bringer of hope."
"But how can you be sure I bear the Uruuva Mornie?"
"The one distinguishing fact of Uruuva is that when the One Ring is in use, Uruuva seems as if It is on fire, and an inscription would appear. Lady Karalin refused to tell me what would appear, saying she herself did not yet know. And when she supposedly completed the Uruuva Mornie, Lady Karalin Inthoyun was not to be found, despite a search."
Raising my head to look at Elrond, I knew there was a stubborn look on my face. "Then I shall go with the One Ring of Power, where ever It goes. That ugly git Sauron can't have Middle-earth, not while I still live. It seems that the 'she' Uruuva Mornie will save is all of Middle-Earth"
"Than I give you a knew name, Lady Kadrianna."
"I have a name, and it is only Dri. All other names died with my heart long ago."
"Than let it be your surname, Dri."
"Nope, thanks but nnooooo thanks. Sides, it'd prob'ly end up being Tittaulundo."
"'Little monster'? No, I was thinking of-"
"Look, if I'm gettin a new last name, it sure as hell ain't gonna be somethin like 'Starlight" or anything girly."
'You need a last name."
"Says who?" was my indignant retort. "I do just fine without one."
All I got was a little glare that made me know that Elrond was just as stubborn as I was. "Choose one or I shall name you."
"Fine." I muttered. "Just give me a sec."
Finally after about five minutes of thinking, I came up with one. "Huinemeoi. Kadrianna Huinemeoi. " It was fitting, to call myself what so many others had unknowingly called me before, on Earth. I had chosen to put together two words and come up with-
"Shadow-Cat. Fine." remarked Elrond. "from now on you are Lady Kadrianna Huinemeoi, bearer of Uruuva Mornie"
"Just call me Dri, okay?" I said as I got up. "I chose a last name just to keep you happy and so I wasn't something like Dri Flower or any of that sort o' rot. Huinemeoi just reminds me of who I was, who I am."
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A joke for dacey, cuz Im generally sugar high on something or another, especially diet coke. When she hears this, she generally moans NOOOOOOOOO!!! not again! Toto.. why'd you do that?? at which point I laugh insanely. Anywho, most spellings when Dri is yappin away is to kindoff get the whole un-educatedness thing in. So thts why a lotta things are spelled odd, or missin a letter or two. you can tell I no likes the 'g's in 'ing'.
Also, I apologize if the Elvish is off, Uruuva, I mean. I was on a website that had translations, so it was bettetr than makin up my own word for fiery
I SAW TWO TOWERS !! *blows raspberries*
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A plan slowly formed in my mind as my dragonish form blurred past stationary trees and my powerful wings gulped up the air. I would mess around with the puny brain cells of these wraith-jerks and then go to Mama Dragon, hauling tail back to Nicolas. From there, I would check on him, and then fly back to Rivendell, where I would crash for a vvveerrrryyy long time. Like a year. Maybe two.
After time, near dawn, I found a small gathering of four Riders. Fangs bared in a grin, I thought of my daring, and most likely suicidal, plan. I mentally shrugged. It didn't matter what I did, or if I died. I could help save six, no seven, lives if this worked. If.
Three minutes later, microscopic creature flew over to the wraiths, and landed on one. Then, without warning, It started to flash, exactly like the strobe light the inspiration had come from. A horse reared at the sudden blinding flashes, and before any of the bewildered wraiths knew what was happening, the source of light flew in the middle of them. And began to expand like a giant balloon.
Laughing, for look on their ghost like faces I could now see in my own flashing light was one of amazed disbelief, I launched myself up into the trees and exploded into Mama Dragon. I heard the piercing war cries from below and knew I had sufficiently caught their attention.
Lazily, so I was flying slow enough for the black figures below to keep me in sight, I began to drift in figure eights, occasionally aiming a small fire bomb at my ground pursuers. I let this continue until we were at the very edge of the forest, where they had first started until I let loose one massive roar that shook the nearby trees. With one last flaming spitball at the emerging wraiths before flapping my wings furiously and flying off into the distance as the enraged shriek of the wraiths told me they could not keep up.
Once the forest was out of sight, I turned around and made for the spot I had left Nicolas. I finally reached it two and a half hours later with a soft touch down. Quickly I returned to human form and rushed over to his still form.
Asleep and untouched. I heaved a tired sigh of unmistakable relief, despite the fact that Aragorn had told me if they, Frodo and for some reason Nicolas, did not fight, they would turn into wraiths, servants to the servants. Already Nicolas was visibly worse and I did not need to see his eyes to know they would be pale and lifeless, empty of any vitality and therefore without color, save a silver glow.
I let out a soft curse or two. Actually, it was thirteen. But you try going without food for who knows how long and being short on sleep, not to mention energy, and the knowledge that you'd have to haul some guy's bum back to Rivendell to save him even though you don't like 'im, and not be a tad bit on the testy side.
Five minutes later, a navy dragon clutching a non-screaming man flew away from the spot where I had first come as a wild mare. With my luck, my nice little sleeping potion would wear off somewhere over the forest and Man-With-No-Brains would wake up and decide that to solve the problem of flying over a forest and being clutched by dragon talons, he'd start screamin' his poor wittle nearly-dead head off. I snorted, and a flicker off flame brushed my nostrils.
Some time later, I was over the edges of a bustling/ deserted Rivendell. I had lost count of how many times I had mentally chanted '99 Bottles of Beer on The Wall', 'Little Bunny Foo-Foo', and had been on 'This is the Song That Never Ends' for the past half hour. I was exhausted from my numerous changes and flight to and from the woods. It just happened that I was in one of those moods where ya just wanna punch someone, or yell at them for no reason.
Silently, I shrunk my size to a small as I could and still carry Sleeping Beauty. My touchdown on a balcony near Arwen's rooms was anything except smooth and gentle; I actually cracked the stone and ripped off a good chunk of the railing.
Almost before I had settled, Arwen had rushed onto her deck and caught me changing to human form. She was inspecting Nicolas' still form and calling for Elrond when I sat up.
Elrond appeared quickly and rushed over to Nicolas, who had opened his eyes. They gleamed like bits of a mirror, unnaturally bright and reflective of a silver light. Worried, he knelt down and I started telling them of what I had seen and done since Elrond had last seen me gallop away from sight.
When I got to the part of Aragorn, his lover gasped and fled to her rooms. I spoke over the sounds of her scrambling to change into riding dress and arm herself. Running back onto the deck she said hurried good-byes. Minutes later the pounding off a horse's hooves echoed from the stables as she left to search out the lost. Pausing in my tale, I mentally wished her all the luck I knew of.
A low moan came from Nicolas, and I stood up and held back the thin and veil like curtains to Arwen's room, allowing Elrond to carry Nicolas inside. There I was told to get some sleep, and for once I listened. Groggily I ignored the headache that had overcome my head while talking and made my way to my own rooms. My eyes wee closed and I was asleep even before I had finished falling onto my bed.
~*~*~**~*~~*~*~*~*~
I woke up mid-afternoon the next day, groggy, thirsty, and hungry, but a quick trip to the kitchens solved those. Sugary pastries do wonders to wake me up. Almost as good as diet pop* back when I was in good ol' Earth. I sighed and wandered around the halls, checking for Nicolas and/or Elrond as the effects of the sugar began to take effect.
Whistling, I checked the halls to make sure no one was watching and changed into a nice, jet black bunny. Who began hopping around Rivendell like it had consumed all the sugar in existence. Wow, that musta been some pastry, cuz I was just zooming around. Literally, I was bouncing off the walls.
Which was all very nice for about two hours. Before I ran right into Elrond's shins and returned to human form with a smack. Rubbing my head I stood up and cheerily announced to the disgruntled Elf, "Ouch, that hurt! Hellooo, Mr. Elrond!"
Obviously not my normally dark greeting and Elrond winced at the sunshine in my voice. Ignoring him except to stick out my tongue, I started jumping up and down in a circle. Hehehehe, I was really high. Remind me to never, ever eat those things ever again.
Finally, after a few minutes I stopped bouncing and calmed down. Elrond's face was worn, and there were bags under his eyes. "Arwen's not back yet, huh? Well, it'll take a few days. No worries, no worries."
"I have done all I can for Nicolas, and still he continues to fade. There is nothing more I can do, not until Frodo Baggins of the Shirre comes to Rivendell. I have felt a connection that binds the fate of Frodo to that of Nicolas, and it cannot be broken. I fear that were it not for this connection, Nicolas would never have been wounded as if by a Mordor blade. It cannot be broken except for one way, the one way the Ring can be permanently destroyed."
"Well, that's one worry down."
"But I have my worries over you, and what you said that night in the hall."
Groaning, I sat down on a bench. "Lemme guess, this is your guilt trip to makin' me spill the beans on my past."
With a tired look on his face, Elrond answered, "It seems this is the only way to find out about you, and I need to know, for your past may rule the fate of all."
"GGggggrrrrrrfffff" I muttered. "Better get comfy, it's gonna be a long story to tell you."
/////An: due to the fact this is long, I'll break it into paragraphs, but most of the time it's Dri telling her past. /////////
"I was born on a fall afternoon, kickin' and hollerin my head off like the rest of us. Earth was a magickless place, and most believe not in your kind or any besides the race of Man. And Man was pretty sleazy in my place. My birth mother soon after became a drug addict, as she was maybe twenty one and married to a twenty one year old drunk. It was not a happy marriage, and most money went to either booze or drugs.
I had a brother, Alexader. Weird name. I think my parents were drunk and forgot the 'N' in Alexander. As a matter of fact, my full name is Kadrianna, but that's just too girly.
Anywho, Alex was three years older than me.
We looked out for each other, me and Alex. I was ironically the more responsible one. I had a small job walking dogs for this old man. I would disguise myself as a preppy little angel of a kid, pick up the dogs, and then ditch the outfit. I would then walk around with the mutts, and pick pockets. No one suspected the little girl with a pink poodle named Fluffi.
I learned early on to tell how high my mother was, so I could go get her paycheck and buy some food, but mostly she was out of a job with no money. That's why I first turned thief, to eat. My parent fought when they were conscious enough, and I roamed the streets freely. Anyone who wanted to survive that way learned early on how to defend themselves. I survived quite well. I had knifed someone by the time I was nine and burglarized a pretty nice shop by age ten. Rough, for a kid. But I knew no other way of life.
Probably the most important person top me besides Alex, was my best friend, Kara. When I was eight I was on my job, walking dogs, when I saw the girl flit down an alleyway.
I followed. She had a knife, so I thought to steal it, as my last one had broke when I brilliantly dropped it out a six story window in front of a garbage truck. She looked like she only six, so I thought nothing of takin' the knife and figgered she'd probably found it in her kitchen before wanderin off.
Was I ever wrong! That was a fighting blade, and when I tried to snitch it she turned and gave me a pretty slice on my shoulder. It was exactly what I would have done had someone tried to take my knife. We became friends, and I learned she was an orphan, livin' in an ally. She had made her own little house, out of wood leftover from the never-ending construction in the city.
A few weeks later, my father was drunk and started an fight with my mother. He threw his bottle of booze across the room, and pulled outta gun. Mother just screamed at him, drugs clouding her mind just like beer clouded my father's. He killed her, and then himself. Alex and I huddled behind the couch the whole time, holding onto each other.
The neighbors heard and called the police, and we were sent to foster care. But the man was drunk and used the money for beer. It was too similar to our dead parents, so we left. This time, no one knew.
We found a condemned apartment building, and took it over as our own. It was in a run down neighborhood, the slums of the city. Inspectors ignored it as it was a waste o' time. Any that did come near were knifed. Generally by me, but a few were hit in drive-by's by gang members reacting to the invasion of their turf.
Years passed, and Kara and Alex fell in love. I continued my dog walking till the man died. Thieving was an everyday occupation. My neighborhood turned violent, and my life was harder. It was an effort just to get out the door without being shot by the time I had turned seventeen. Police avoided our area, except on sunny, stifling hot days when it was to draining to fight.
Meanwhile I earned a reputation, an anonymous one, too. I was called Shadow Cat by those in the city. All that was known about the Cat that she went around, thieving and constantly wearing black from head to toe. She once broke into a highly guarded museum, only to leave a note that the paintings were very beautiful. Other times she left notes at the police station with clues as to who had killed who in what brawl. And once she stole a pair of combat boots from a general's apartment while he was showering. Later, when the knowledge of the mysterious person was city-wide, the unknown Cat became a hero to some, a vigilante to others. They knew she resided somewhere in the infamous area named 'Fighter's Block' and defended the buildings.
Over the years, there were perhaps twenty bodies found with the distinctive calling card of Shadow Cat: the initials S C cut into the cheek with a knife by quick strokes so as to seem like scratches from a feline. The reason they were found was because a woman reported an unknown assailant, regular punk had attempted rape. The attacker had been stopped, er kicked realllllyyyy hard, and the women ran off. The body would then be found beaten and cut, and of course the initials. Often the dead had raped more than one woman, and had arrest warrants out.
Another body with my mark was that of a kidnapper. Police found the six year old boy victim outside the station, and all he could say was "The nice lady in black brought me here, Mommy!" The kid had obediently gone to the next room before I slit the *&^$*^ of a kidnapper's throat.
Once a lost wallet was returned to a poor woman with a note of apology from "Shadow Cat". I had not known that the woman was so poor when she worked a job as a maid until I found out that because of the woman's immigration much of her money went to the upkeep of her papers.
Over the years people learned to live with the unknown watcher of their safety and sometimes robber of a few dollars or some goods. Many decided that the name Shadow Cat had been aptly given, indeed, due to the Super-heroine the name was originally derived from, due to the heroine's ability to slip through shadows. At least, that's what I heard on the street, in between stealing some food or a few bucks here and there.
Never was I caught, not as thief and not as Shadow Cat, yet always I left my mark, whether on a wall or body. It didn't matter.
I never carried a gun because of the horrors guns did to me. That and they were more easily traced than a replaceable knife.
Later on Kara and Alex legally became man and wife. I was there as witness and maid of honor. Some random guy off the street was the second witness. Those two were as happy as anyone with a million dollars. Kara eventually got pregnant, and we were all slowly working towards getting legitimate jobs. Slowly but surely, we were making honest money, if no very much.
But that ended when a well known gang leader raped and murdered Kara. His name was Hans, and many of his followers were violent second-generation immigrants. The only reason he had still lived was because he covered his tracks too well. Even I couldn't pin anything on him, though part of me always suspected.
Alex found me on the street. I never told anyone, but I had just come from a promising job interview, and had thought about giving thieving up completely. Until I was left with a raging black hole in my heart where Kara had once been.
I stole only a chain to keep her last gift, a ring, on. The rates of those found with the Shadow Cat insignia increased, but now some were left alive, depending on their crimes. No raper lived. It was my wrath, my fury that had me kill. Most of these men I had seen committing crimes before, and had ignored them. Now some one had used that against the ones I loved.
Then one night, I finally stole some grub and nearly botched the job, I returned to home. Alone. And they struck, Hans at the lead. He told me then he had done Kara. Sorrow overwhelmed me as the gaping wound I had been trying so hard to ignore was laid out for all to see. I didn't try to kill, only escape. I had planned long ago that Kara's killer would die painfully, over two hours, like she had done.
I fled. I ran Alex down, and the shooting began. I watched as bullets punched into Alex's chest, and he died. I was alone, with nothing left to live for. I saw a shadow in my room, and called for them to kill me. I remember the crack of the gun and the explosion of pain, the ring on my finger. That's it..
I woke up here. Rivendell did something to me. It was as if the very air spoke and told me there was no reason to fear within these walls. The second day I remember here is vivid. I was walking, and reading the poems carved in trees, where it is called the Lover's Dwelling. I found there a poem, written by a Karalin Inthoyun. The wording was the same, the handwriting the name, all the same.
Kara's full name was Karalin Inthoyun. That's how I know she was an Elf, and has seen Rivendell. I checked the records: she was a friend of the Prince Legolas Greenleaf. It described her in every way, down to a dimple in her left cheek.
Pieces to a puzzle fell into place. In my world there is a trilogy of books that tell of your world. Your kind do not exist in my time, in my world and are regarded as mere fairy tales told to amuse the little kiddies. Only Man is the sentient species, civilized and most ignore the call of trees. Few places are untouched by modernization and retain little of the sense of pureness that exists in your woods. Yet she had a connection with the trees, and I swear to you she would whisper to them, and I could not understand. It was Elvish, Elrond, Elvish that you and I are speaking this moment! Her accent, I now know, is that of the Elves. She constantly talked off the Elves, and Legolas. Once she slipped and said her friend, the prince.
Kara described things like your home, and once described your temper. She was right! By all the gods in existence, she knew things no other could! We had a tree that she used to sit in and read those books that are not regarded as reality but fiction, and told me it was like on at her home. That tree mirrored the one her poem was on!
Despite my solving of a few riddles, there is still the whole to solve. She had not the ears of the Elvish, yet of Elven kind she was. How was she in my world, as a child? And yet a great, mature friend to Legolas. What of this ring? What did she mean by 'saving her'? Who is her? How is it that I am in your world, and can speak or read any tongue I see or hear? How can I change my shape to what I choose? These are the things I need your knowledge to fill in the gap."
Finished at long last, I gazed into Elrond's eyes. Those eyes told of thousands of years beyond count, each with its sorrows and joys and coming into wisdoms. There would be more heartaches and bittersweet moments ahead for this gentle person. Yet his eyes held not the answers to my question.
Getting up, I began to pace. "I have done my own readings, searching for these answers, only to find more clues that enlarged the puzzle rather than diminish. There is a recent book, by your standards, anyways, that tells of the making of a new Ring. This Ring was like the Dwarven metal mitrhil, but different. It was simple, completely devoid of any decoration or design. It could not be harmed, only destroyed when the Ring to which Its fate was bound was also destroyed. I believe the Ring to which It was bound is carried by Frodo, and I carry the Ring created by none other than Karalin Inthoyun and called by Its maker 'Uruuva Mornie' or Fiery Darkness. There is only the idea of Uruuva Mornie's creation, and supposedly there is a way to test it, just as fire tests the dark lord's Ring. Some of this I have learned through books, others through my many travels."
"Indeed, Dri, it seems from what has happened to you do carry Karalin's Gift, as the Elves call it. Lady Karalin Inthoyun studied under the Lady Galadriel after her parents were slain in battle during the Last Alliance. There Kara was allowed to glimpse into the Mirror of Galadriel, and saw all that would come to pass were the Ring returned to Sauron."
"Isildur had the Ring, and only the Lady Karalin knew what would happen, that it would all lead to a small Halfling called Frodo." I spoke as the realization dawned on me.
Elrond nodded gravely and kept talkin, "So in an effort to combat the evil of Sauron's Ring of Power, the lady came to me and said she would be forging a Ring of power to good. She would bind Uruuva's Fate to that of the One Ring. And she did. Her pure intent, however, was not without a price. When the forging had been finished and all the power implanted in Uruuva, both the silver Ring and Its creator disappeared. "
"She was sent to my world!" I gasped out.
"So it seems. Now that darkness has crept back into the corners of the world, and the Dark Lord knows his Ring is not destroyed but merely lost, you come bearing Karalin's gift. You are the Light-bringer of hope."
"But how can you be sure I bear the Uruuva Mornie?"
"The one distinguishing fact of Uruuva is that when the One Ring is in use, Uruuva seems as if It is on fire, and an inscription would appear. Lady Karalin refused to tell me what would appear, saying she herself did not yet know. And when she supposedly completed the Uruuva Mornie, Lady Karalin Inthoyun was not to be found, despite a search."
Raising my head to look at Elrond, I knew there was a stubborn look on my face. "Then I shall go with the One Ring of Power, where ever It goes. That ugly git Sauron can't have Middle-earth, not while I still live. It seems that the 'she' Uruuva Mornie will save is all of Middle-Earth"
"Than I give you a knew name, Lady Kadrianna."
"I have a name, and it is only Dri. All other names died with my heart long ago."
"Than let it be your surname, Dri."
"Nope, thanks but nnooooo thanks. Sides, it'd prob'ly end up being Tittaulundo."
"'Little monster'? No, I was thinking of-"
"Look, if I'm gettin a new last name, it sure as hell ain't gonna be somethin like 'Starlight" or anything girly."
'You need a last name."
"Says who?" was my indignant retort. "I do just fine without one."
All I got was a little glare that made me know that Elrond was just as stubborn as I was. "Choose one or I shall name you."
"Fine." I muttered. "Just give me a sec."
Finally after about five minutes of thinking, I came up with one. "Huinemeoi. Kadrianna Huinemeoi. " It was fitting, to call myself what so many others had unknowingly called me before, on Earth. I had chosen to put together two words and come up with-
"Shadow-Cat. Fine." remarked Elrond. "from now on you are Lady Kadrianna Huinemeoi, bearer of Uruuva Mornie"
"Just call me Dri, okay?" I said as I got up. "I chose a last name just to keep you happy and so I wasn't something like Dri Flower or any of that sort o' rot. Huinemeoi just reminds me of who I was, who I am."
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A joke for dacey, cuz Im generally sugar high on something or another, especially diet coke. When she hears this, she generally moans NOOOOOOOOO!!! not again! Toto.. why'd you do that?? at which point I laugh insanely. Anywho, most spellings when Dri is yappin away is to kindoff get the whole un-educatedness thing in. So thts why a lotta things are spelled odd, or missin a letter or two. you can tell I no likes the 'g's in 'ing'.
Also, I apologize if the Elvish is off, Uruuva, I mean. I was on a website that had translations, so it was bettetr than makin up my own word for fiery
I SAW TWO TOWERS !! *blows raspberries*