I waited to put on the ring until I had shut myself into my room back
home and turned off all the lights, something that seemed logical at the
time. I was pretty sure that nothing would happen, but I kept my shoes on
all the same. I slid the ring onto my finger. Then I waited. And
continued to wait. The air stayed exactly the same. I wondered if
something was supposed to happen. A horrible, blush-inducing feeling began
to creep over me: sucker yourself. I fumbled for the lightswitch, but I
couldn't find it in the dark. Muttering to myself, I picked my way through
my room blindly until my fingers closed over a doorknob. I turned it and
walked out the door.
The first thing that I noticed out of the ordinary was that I was now standing in ankle deep water. It was still dark. I reached out my hand to touch the wall and was confronted by a damp tree trunk. So the little man was right, I thought to myself and turned back around to where my door had been to get my rubber boots. Unfortunately, my door was no longer there, just more water and trees. This was definitely not supposed to happen.
Where was I? I wondered. The most immediate conclusion that I could come up with was that I was in a puddle, which I immediately stepped out of. Looking up above me through a gap between the trees, I realized with concern that the stars looked vaguely different. Looking around, I realized with even more concern that I was alone in a clearing in the middle of a large forest with nothing to eat but spearmint Tic-Tacs. Stupid ring.
"Strange maiden, who art thou?" came a low and handsome voice nearby. That was more like it.
"Me?" I asked, even though that was a ridiculous question in the middle of a large wilderness devoid of any visible life. "I'm Candace."
A tall, dark stranger-Ranger stepped out from behind a tree. "Greetings, fair lady Candace. I am Mirwold, a Ranger of the North, though most folk in these parts call me Shorty. And here are two I would wish you to meet: my companions, Fadrornion and Englas. They're elves." Two tall, blond, blue-eyed guys - elves - stepped out from behind other trees and bowed. Oddly enough, they didn't have pointy ears. "They speak but little of the common tongue," Mirwold said.
"Um, excuse me," I said at this point, "but where am I?"
"Are you lost then, maiden?" asked Mirwold, "Or was your party waylaid by orcs from whom you only escaped? Few travel in these parts alone in these dark days."
"Ah, no," I said, "I'm just lost. I wasn't traveling anywhere with anyone. I wasn't traveling at all. One minute I was at home, the next minute I'm here."
"Wondrous strange," said Mirwold. "But what land do you hail from? For you look nothing like any wanderer I have met before."
"I'm from Canada," I said hesitantly. "I don't think you'll have heard of -"
"Canada," mused Mirwold. "Isn't that somewhere north of Angmar?"
"Something like that."
"Then I say to you, Candace of Canada, that whatever strange craft has brought you here, you are welcome to travel with us. We are making for Rivendell, where you may speak with Elrond, who is wise and may know how you may return to your home again."
"Thanks!" I exclaimed, although it was what I had been expecting him to say all along. If I had had a choice, I would have preferred the falling-into-Camp-Legolas scenario myself, but the whole go-to-Rivendell-to- see-the-elves thing was nothing to be sneezed at, either. All that was missing here was the Fellowship, which I would probably meet up with in a couple of days anyway. Hey, maybe I could even save Frodo from the Ringwraiths! And Mirwold's elf friends - what can I say? I love elves! Plus, I could try out all the elvish that I had memorized on them! I just knew there was a reason that I'd read all the appendices!
*****
(Is the author's name Candace? Is this nothing more than a sneakily disguised attempt to write herself into the arms of Legolas? Will this fic descend into sappiness and shameless clothing descriptions or is there an *unexpected plot twist* on the horizon?)
The first thing that I noticed out of the ordinary was that I was now standing in ankle deep water. It was still dark. I reached out my hand to touch the wall and was confronted by a damp tree trunk. So the little man was right, I thought to myself and turned back around to where my door had been to get my rubber boots. Unfortunately, my door was no longer there, just more water and trees. This was definitely not supposed to happen.
Where was I? I wondered. The most immediate conclusion that I could come up with was that I was in a puddle, which I immediately stepped out of. Looking up above me through a gap between the trees, I realized with concern that the stars looked vaguely different. Looking around, I realized with even more concern that I was alone in a clearing in the middle of a large forest with nothing to eat but spearmint Tic-Tacs. Stupid ring.
"Strange maiden, who art thou?" came a low and handsome voice nearby. That was more like it.
"Me?" I asked, even though that was a ridiculous question in the middle of a large wilderness devoid of any visible life. "I'm Candace."
A tall, dark stranger-Ranger stepped out from behind a tree. "Greetings, fair lady Candace. I am Mirwold, a Ranger of the North, though most folk in these parts call me Shorty. And here are two I would wish you to meet: my companions, Fadrornion and Englas. They're elves." Two tall, blond, blue-eyed guys - elves - stepped out from behind other trees and bowed. Oddly enough, they didn't have pointy ears. "They speak but little of the common tongue," Mirwold said.
"Um, excuse me," I said at this point, "but where am I?"
"Are you lost then, maiden?" asked Mirwold, "Or was your party waylaid by orcs from whom you only escaped? Few travel in these parts alone in these dark days."
"Ah, no," I said, "I'm just lost. I wasn't traveling anywhere with anyone. I wasn't traveling at all. One minute I was at home, the next minute I'm here."
"Wondrous strange," said Mirwold. "But what land do you hail from? For you look nothing like any wanderer I have met before."
"I'm from Canada," I said hesitantly. "I don't think you'll have heard of -"
"Canada," mused Mirwold. "Isn't that somewhere north of Angmar?"
"Something like that."
"Then I say to you, Candace of Canada, that whatever strange craft has brought you here, you are welcome to travel with us. We are making for Rivendell, where you may speak with Elrond, who is wise and may know how you may return to your home again."
"Thanks!" I exclaimed, although it was what I had been expecting him to say all along. If I had had a choice, I would have preferred the falling-into-Camp-Legolas scenario myself, but the whole go-to-Rivendell-to- see-the-elves thing was nothing to be sneezed at, either. All that was missing here was the Fellowship, which I would probably meet up with in a couple of days anyway. Hey, maybe I could even save Frodo from the Ringwraiths! And Mirwold's elf friends - what can I say? I love elves! Plus, I could try out all the elvish that I had memorized on them! I just knew there was a reason that I'd read all the appendices!
*****
(Is the author's name Candace? Is this nothing more than a sneakily disguised attempt to write herself into the arms of Legolas? Will this fic descend into sappiness and shameless clothing descriptions or is there an *unexpected plot twist* on the horizon?)