Disclaimer: LotR is not mine, and I make no claim to anything. Shelby and Connor are mine, however, and I would appreciate being asked before their use.
Author's note: It's been quite a while since I read the trilogy, so forgive any mistakes you might find. However, I will attempt to prevent said mistakes, as I am armed with The Silmarillion, The Lost Tales 1 & 2, The Complete Guide to Middle-Earth, and of course, the original trilogy, which I am re-reading. Thank you for reviewing and I'm glad you're enjoying the story!
Through A Glass Darkly
by Corrie McKinnon
Chapter Three
"The wolf also shall dwell with the lamb, and the leopard shall lie down with the kid; and the calf and the young lion and the fatling together; and a little child shall lead them." – Isaiah 11:6
***
It was dark.
Dark and cold.
Oh no! Was she dreaming again?
As Shelby became more aware, she realized two things: it was dark because her eyes were shut and the cold was a result of being on the ground.
Ground?
Her eyes shot open and Shelby looked around wildly. This wasn't the woods in Peculiar, Missouri! The trees were drastically taller, and seemed more ancient. Noises uttered from the trees were like none she had ever heard before. There was no sign of civilization anywhere. And where was that fairy ring?!
Thoroughly frightened now, Shelby dazedly picked herself up from the forest – for that was what it was, she realized – floor, and absentmindedly massaged her sore head as she tried to place her surroundings.
Suddenly, she froze in terror. Connor! Oh, not again. "Connor!" She screamed, giving no thought to discretion. Just before she voiced another yell, her son complained from somewhere behind her:
"Jeez Mom, you about broke my eardrums!"
Nearly sobbing in relief, she seized him in a hug, ignoring his protests. "Thank God! You scared me to death!" Shelby said hoarsely.
"Okay, okay, get a grip," Connor muttered in embarrassment, face flushing red.
"Come on. We're getting out of here." Holding his hand for reassurance, Shelby started walking. If we walk long enough, we're sure to find the way out, she determined. Won't we?
She tugged Connor a little closer. "Stick close, baby," she murmured, glancing nervously about.
He scowled and mumbled something about not being a baby, but did squeeze her hand. They kept walking.
Perhaps an hour later, Shelby was ready to yell in frustration and Connor seemed no happier. "All right, we'll stop for a few minutes," Shelby sighed. They hadn't found anything, anyway.
Connor wandered off a little ways, examining a tree, whilst Shelby plopped down tiredly to give her poor legs a break. Why did it suddenly get so quiet? Everything seemed to have gone still. No birds or frogs or bugs were making any noise whatsoever. Not even the wind blew.
"Connor," Shelby said, standing slowly, "I think we should go now."
"What it is, Mommy?" His eyes were darting around nervously, and he walked to her, willingly taking her hand. He only called her "Mommy" when he wanted something or was afraid.
Snap!
Shelby jumped in fright. What was that? Oh Lord, don't tell me there's bears this time of year too!
Hssss...
She swallowed, forcing her heart, which had leapt into her throat, back down. Connor shook from beside her but didn't utter a sound, although he was obviously terrified. His wide eyes met hers and she squeezed his hand for reassurance. Shelby told herself to stay calm. It's probably just a raccoon, she reasoned.
But the thing that emerged from the cache of trees was no raccoon.
Nor was it a bear. It was a…squirrel?
It was!
However, there was something off about it. For one, it was black. That was odd enough, but it also sported ruby red eyes and fangs covered in frothing white saliva. And it was about twice normal size. That cinched it: trouble.
Shelby remembered reading somewhere that running attracts an animal's attention. Slowly, non-threateningly, she took Connor's hand and began backing away. The squirrel-thing regarded them steadily; seeming almost amused by their efforts.
This was not a good situation.
Out of nowhere, someone appeared between them and the mutant squirrel. Shelby bit back a gasp. It was a man! He was tall, over six feet, with long, white-blond hair. And what a body! She thought appreciatively. He was muscular, but not bulky; lean, but not puny. And all this from behind!
Their rescuer wielded a bow with a quiver full of arrows, which he now had trained on the black monstrosity. The squirrel growled and spat at him warningly. The arrow was let fly and landed with a disgusting slurping sound into the breast of the beast. It gave a last, hair-raising shriek, and died.
The man turned around. Shelby fought to keep from gaping. If perfection had a face, his would be it. Great Shell. Way with the sappiness, she chastised herself. He had intense, violet eyes and generous cheekbones with a firm, kissable mouth. He arched an eyebrow at her perusal and she blushed. Then she noticed something. His ears were…pointed.
Shelby was suddenly feeling lightheaded. Either she had stumbled onto a Vulcan or they were further away from home than she thought.
The "man" apparently gathered that something was amiss and he asked her a question. In a language she didn't understand.
Throughout this exchange, Connor had been quiet, too intimidated to speak. Now that the danger was past, he was filled with the urgent need to speak. "Mom, what's he saying?"
Still in shock, she simply replied, "I don't know."
His brow furrowed and tried again in another language with no success.
Shelby shook her head helplessly. "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're saying."
He appeared frustrated with this development and just stared at her for a moment. Finally, he motioned for her to follow him. That signal was universal, so she understood, but hesitated. For all she knew, he could be an axe murderer. Well, what choice have you got? The next thing you meet might be another mutant squirrel!
Interpreting her hesitance himself, he tapped his chest, and said slowly and clearly: "Túrelio."
Shelby stared at him, trying to puzzle this out. He repeated his motions. Oh! "Shelby," she said in the same slow, clear manner, touching her chest.
He reiterated her name then pointed to her side, to Conner.
Having watched his mother and the stranger's attempts to communicate, he copied their actions. "Connor," he said.
The stranger seemed to have a harder time with his name. "Khonner" they settled on.
He gestured again for them to follow him, this time, they did so without pause. After all, who but Lestat would introduce himself before killing someone? She deduced logically.
They trudged along for a while, and Shelby wondered what sane person would think hiking was fun? Then again, her shoes might take the blame for this.
On the other hand, Connor was thoroughly enjoying himself. It wasn't often that little boys had adventures. He was having the time of his young life!
When they got hungry, their companion offered them something that looked a lot like her mother-in-law's homemade bread. Shelby cautiously took a bite, then found herself closing her eyes in rapture. It was sweet, but not too much, and had an invigorating effect on her weary body.
"Thank you," she said, handing Connor some. However, he got the gist, and smiling, nodded his head. I hope we get there soon. It's almost nightfall.
When it had been night for about an hour, her son started to nod off. Túrelio eyed the sleepy little boy, and, without warning, picked him up.
Shelby was startled, but relaxed when Connor went right to sleep. It's not like he can run with a seventy pound boy on his back, she told herself.
Soon after that, Shelby began to tire as well. Just when she was about to ask if they could take a break, he stopped and pointed. Shelby gaped.
In front of her was Camelot.
***
I know this is a day late, but I was in the car forEVER, driving from L.A. to Texas. My apologies! But please review anyway. J
