AUTHOR'S NOTE~ snort.
DISCLAIMER: From now on, I hereby declare that I don't own anything of Tolkien's.
Chapter 3
Lothlórien
"Come on; let's go before the Author decides to send a hoard of Orcs at us," Strider said without another moment's hesitation.
"What does that matter? We're all going to DIE anyways," Boromir said, kicking a rock into the river Nimrodel.
"Well you're alive now, so enjoy it. Besides, you have entered the forests of Lorien. But alas, it is winter, for in the spring, the leaves of these trees turn gold, or so it is said," Legolas said, looking down at the Nimrodel, "I would sing you a song of the maiden of Nimrodel, for she was as fair and musical as the river itself. But I cannot. For that would just be humiliating. And besides, I can't sing too well."
"Let us rest here, for I fear the hobbits cannot go further tonight," Aragorn said. They all sat down around the small bubbling stream. The Company sat down, all were extremely tired. Still, Aragorn and Legolas were not content. Each stood erect, turning around at the slightest sound.
"We must set out as soon as possible," Legolas said, "I am not familiar to these woods–" Suddenly, he felt a razor blade pressed hard on his throat from behind. Aragorn too, felt a blade at his back. The hobbits, roused from their sleep, woke to see the sharp points of arrows. Even Gimli, with his legs planted firmly apart, held his ax tightly in both hands; ready to impel it into the neck of anyone who dared to come close.
An Elf walked from behind the shrubbery. He removed his own sword from his scabbard and pointed it at Legolas' chest. He motioned for the other Elf to get out of the way. "Eight companions, lost in the Elven forests of Lorien. Yet there is only one Elf, four Halflings, two men and-" he paused, turning his stern glare at Gimli, who returned the unfriendly gaze, "a Dwarf."
He slipped the sword back into its sheath. "There is no need to fear us. We've been watching you, for he breathes so loud we could shoot him in the dark, while blindfolded, ear-plugged and weaponless." he shot a glance at Aragorn, who stood still because an arrow was still pressed against his back. He signaled for all the other elves to leave the Company in peace. "We've been watching you, for days, and witnessed when you were speaking to the Narrator--"
I'm the Author. Get that strait, or I'll send the Wargs after you.
"—the Author then."
Very good Haldir. There is a difference between Authors and Narrators. For one thing, I control the Narrator.
"So he, or she, just says what's happening? Does he (or she) go along with what's happening? Or is he (or she. Could you please tell me which?) a slave of your will?" Gimli asked.
No, the Narrator isn't really a person, or a him or her. But I express myself through him/her. Except for now, because I'm talking to you directly- which I'm not supposed to do. As for your actions, that's when he/she describes what you do. But you can do whatever you want.
"You know what I don't get? How is it that you are able to control us? I mean, I could go back to Mirkwood, and you wouldn't be able to stop me?" Legolas said.
I could control you; you could be a slave of my story. Not be able to speak what you want, moving according to what I think would work right. A slave, for I control your eyes, what you see and what you don't see. I'll give you an example…
Frodo suddenly felt like someone was squeezing his lungs, pulling them into a rhythm that he couldn't control. Someone or something began to seize his muscles, he fought this sensation, but soon, he was engulfed by it. He tried to turn his head to see what was happening to Sam and the other Hobbits, but he found he couldn't.
I control what you do Frodo. Don't try to fight, you will never win…
Frodo began to panic, he expected to hear his heart beating hard and fast, but he heard only its calm rhythmic pulsing. He tried to run but he felt like his feet were glued to the floor. Suddenly the Author released her hold and Frodo breathed in his own uneven pattern. He stumbled backwards into Strider.
You become a prisoner in your own mind. But I am not a sadist writer, or as we call them, Control Authors. They don't allow any of the characters to do anything according to their will. Besides, life is better when the unexpected happens.
"Yeah, I like it better this way too," Sam said.
Most characters do. Continue on, my book is not yet finished.
"Yes, the Lady of Lothlórien is waiting," Haldir said, "please follow in a single filed line, Legolas and the Ring- bearer first, and the others in whatever order you want. There are to be many stairs, so those who wish to stop are complete wusses."
Thanks to all who review
Anaraiwe ~ Thanks.
Liquid Dreamer ~ I'm glad you like it. I think you're one of the only people who does.
Legolas Stalker ~ No, I stated the reasons why I can't kill Legolas.
