Disclaimer: I own nothing from Lord of the Rings, Les Misérables, or the musical Les Misérables. They belong to Tolkien, Victor Hugo, and Cameron Mackintosh (respectively).

Author's note: Just so everyone knows, I've decided to write the story the way it happened in the movie, because I think it will be much easier and flow better that way. And to all who know what I'm talking about, Amara only knows the musical version of Les Misérables, so she has no knowledge of all the precise information that is only found in the novel. To her, the story of Les Misérables exists exactly as it does in the musical.

Also, Thank you to my reviewers! Your encouraging reviews gave me the persistence I needed to keep writing. I hope you keep reading my story!

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Turning

Chapter 2—Dreams

Monday and Tuesday afternoons and nights were devoted to dress rehearsals. I could tell that I didn't fulfill Ms. Froyadone's vision in my part, but she chose to say nothing about it. I felt so guilty. I had readily accepted the part, and, when given the choice, had not passed it up. Would the part have gone to a better person? Would Ms. Froyadone be more at ease if that had happened? Well, it was too late now. I had to go through with the part. But how would I be able to put the right emotion into it in such a short amount of time? Opening night was on Thursday.

How would I ever portray the part correctly?

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Wednesday passed uneventfully. On Thursday, I spent the whole day worrying about portraying emotion and got the song 'Turning' stuck in my head. In my head, I kept trying different ways of singing my lines to portray the right emotion. It was raining hard, so it wasn't difficult to get into the somber mood required to sing 'Turning.'

As soon as I got home, I went to bed take a nap. A long, wholesome rest was the only thing I wanted. It would be a long night. Everyone would be tired by the end. I wanted to be able to keep myself strong and to do my best. I therefore needed rest for later. I threw myself onto the bed, planning to rest for a few seconds before changing, but I fell asleep the instant I touched the soft blankets. I whispered a small prayer, but before I could finish it, I was claimed by the spirit of sleep, the words still reverberating inside my head.

"Please, let me understand..."

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My mind was a mess. Chaos flowed through my mind, eliminating any hope for rational thinking. My body, however, knew exactly what it was doing. My feet kept up their pace against the hard ground.

I lost track of all time. What seemed like a lifetime later, I finally arrived. I took in the sight before me. Pandemonium filled the entire landscape. A large, sturdy mass separated two opposing peoples, but it seemed as if it could shatter and break at the slightest touch. A chilling rainstorm suppressed the stench that came with battle.

Without pausing, my body, moving independent of my brain, sprang forth and dashed toward the battle. I had no idea what to do. Would I stay back and watch the defending army get massacred? Would I go into the battle and face certain death? I felt myself accelerate toward the battle, spurred by the confusion in my mind.

Time itself seemed to slow down as I drew ever closer. The sound, as well, seemed to have gone, and I was trapped in a dreamlike world.

I finally reached the wall barricading the defending army from the enemy. What would I do now? I found myself unprepared to act, now that I had reached the battle I had been heading toward. So, I kept running. I was racing toward an unreachable ultimatum with a cold, hard, unrelenting barrier on one side of me and a deadly army on the other.

And I kept running, the pounding of my feet against the ground making a dull thudding in an otherwise silent world.

The motion of an object speeding toward me disturbed the crushing, heavy air that threatened to suffocate me. I turned my head and watched, helpless, as a blur of silver sped toward its inevitable destination. The blur pierced my chest and the world exploded in front of my very eyes. I felt my feet stumble and I fell, crushed against the ground by my own momentum.

Time and sound resumed their normal courses as I felt both, each in all its magnitude, assault my senses. My ears suddenly took in the deafening noise of warfare, and my mind felt as if the swiftness of time would sweep me away.

The crimson that flowed was warm, but as it drained, I only felt colder. I opened my eyes and found myself looking straight into the sky, the raindrops starting as tiny shimmers and then rapidly growing larger and finally landing around me. As I felt myself dying, a chilling humming started within me, in the very center of my being. It slowly increased in pitch and intensity until it became a full-fledged scream, going unnoticed to everyone except me.

As a last attempt to pull myself together, I searched my mind for a calming, soothing thought. It was the last thing that graced my mind before I was lost to the unbearable screaming.

And rain will make the flowers grow.

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I was awakened by a shrill scream. I realized the scream was being issued from my own mouth.

I stopped abruptly. "no screaming, no screaming," I whispered to myself. "I might lose my voice that way."

I felt a sharp intake of breath as I realized what had made me scream. A pair of eyes was hovering directly over mine. A nose, too, I could see, and a mouth just below that. Without thinking, I opened my mouth again—probably to scream—and a hand was cupped over my mouth.

What came next was a jargon of words hissed at me. It was all lost on me; I had no idea what the person had said.

I sat up abruptly and crept backwards, away from the person. I bumped into something behind me and turned to see a huge slab of stone. I turned back toward the person in front of me. I was trapped!

"Who are you?" I cried, my voice rising in fear. "Where am I? What do you want?"

The person looked at me with an expression of confusion. Feeling uncomfortable under his stare, I shifted my gaze. It was only then that I realized, to my horror, that there were more people.

The first person, the one standing in front of me, was tall and formidable-looking, with dark eyes and dark hair that reached his chin. The man who stood almost directly behind him held an air of nobility, with his flaxen hair falling past the shoulders of his tall, lithe figure. Beyond him, I could see several more people, and my eyes darted back and forth between them. There was old man with long hair and a shaggy beard, clothed in voluminous robes and a pointed hat. There was another person some distance away with low stature and a russet beard. I could also see two more people that looked somewhat alike from the distance I was viewing them at; they both had masses of curls adorning their heads. They, too, seemed quite short. Unlike the other short man, however, these two seemed to have a quality of youth and intrinsic, unintentional cheerfulness. I groaned inwardly as I saw another person emerging from behind a rock and a quick movement almost out of my field of vision that surely indicated yet another person.

The first person got my attention again as he began speaking to me slowly. Though it seemed to be a different language, and I had never heard the language before, I could tell that each phrase directed at me was a question.

Almost instinctively, I furrowed my brow and started thinking hard, trying to decipher the strange syllables, although I already knew it was no use. After several seconds of thought, I just shook my head.

With one final look at me, the man standing in front of me turned and walked away to talk to some of the other people.

Now that I was free from that man's intense gaze, I drew myself up into a standing position and looked at the land around me for the first time. I was in a small area that was strewn with huge, half-buried rock slabs. Far off into the distance, I could see a huge mountain range—serene and beautiful, cold and unyielding. I had never seen this place before.

With a small whimper, I let myself fall back to the ground. My mind was a mess. I had no idea where I was, was at the mercy of several strangers, and couldn't even communicate with them. I wanted nothing but to be back in the comforts of home.

Hugging my knees to my chest, I did the only thing I could think of that would bring comfort.

"It's only a dream," I whispered, although reason was screaming at me that it wasn't true. "It's only a dream."

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A/N: Reviews are always appreciated, but flames will be used to toast marshmallows.