To Siobhan from EHAB: That's awesome. If you don't mind my asking, what
nationality are you? I know that Siobhan is an Irish name...
Hi-hi from Phe-chan too! I'm FREE!!! The evil chemistry has been defeated!!! AMIN NA MIRIMA! YES! Er..yes, forgive my sugar.I'm just happy. (chemistry is gone for a while, going to THE MOVIE soon, and a thanks to Psycho-35803 for the chocolate, yes, listening to a cd called "the universe" with Legolas's theme song.much goodness.)
The next day was, for Sivi and her friends, absolutely fruitless. The best plan that any one had come up with in the span of sixteen hours -- from seven in the morning until eleven at night -- was to accost Elendil, Isildur, and Gil-galad at the predecided spot and do their best to distract or delay them until the battle was over. Then Sivi had pointed out that the battle could not BE over until Isildur arrived to cut the One from the Enemy's finger.
"Maybe if we distract them long enough for one of us to ride ahead to Orodruin with a chainsaw..." Christina suggested sarcastically. She was, of course, not serious, and the only one who took her seriously was Legolas, who wanted to know what a chainsaw was.
Sivi decided that the only thing that she could do to aid the elf-king was to wait until she saw Gil-galad that night in her dreams, tell him everything, and beg him not to go.
Meantime, Gil-galad, Elendil, and Isildur were at a very similar moment of indecision. Elendil and Isildur were having a quite heated argument over military tactics, how long each of them expected the siege to last, and so forth. Gil-galad simply sat back and watched them fight, wanting to go to sleep and talk to Sivi.
Sivi waited for Gil-galad in her dream, standing impatiently by the ocean. She perceived dark, ugly clouds gathering ominously overhead. The falmar were choppy and murky black. Puzzled, she realized that she was wearing a dark green T-shirt and jeans. Her hair was in a tight braid down her back, and her feet were clad in snug velcroed sandals. The wind began to whistle fiercely in her ears, and she became frightened.
"Ereinion?" she called. "Gil-galad?"
Elendil was in the middle of a hotly delivered speech to his son Isildur when he saw Gil-galad stiffen visibly. The elf's eyes grew vague and distant. Then he looked sharply at Elendil and said angrily,
"You may tell me the result of this pointless debate on the morrow. I am going to bed."
He stalked out of the room, leaving the two men to stare after him. Once in his chamber, he flung himself down onto his bed without even removing his boots. Determinedly, he fixed his eyes on nothing and was soon asleep.
"Sivi?" he cried as he appeared on the shore. A voice from down the beach called his name above the now screaming winds. It was Sivi, but he was puzzled to see her in strange, foreign looking pants and sandals and a loose, unbelted, short-sleeved shirt. She ran to meet him and threw herself into his arms.
Gil-galad wasn't sure whether to be ecstatic, alarmed, or just plain astounded. His arms encircled her shoulders of their own accord. Before he could say a word, Sivi began to speak so quickly that her could barely understand her. She babbled something about the Elven Rings, another time, another world, Isildur, the Enemy, something called a lawnmower, and then blurted that if he went to battle the next day, he would be killed.
"Melui, Melui," he cried, trying to calm her enough that he might make sense of her words.
A wave broke violently on the shore, splattering them up to their thighs with salt water. Gil-galad, keeping his head, as any noble son of royalty will, pulled Sivi further up onto the beach, away from the tide's groping wet fingers.
"Melui, please be still," he begged. "I do not understand what you are trying to tell me. Slowly and calmly; we have the whole dream before us."
"Please, please don't ride to the siege tomorrow," she managed, starting to cry.
"Why not?" Gil-galad asked, though he feared he already knew.
"You will die," she sobbed, clinging to his shoulders as though she might ensnare him in the dream and so prevent him from riding to his death. A silver ribbon of lightning illuminated the brewing sky and boiling sea. Another wave lashed out at their feet, but this time, neither of them paid it heed.
"How can you know that?" Gil-glad asked sensibly. "Who knows what will happen tomorrow?"
"You don't understand!" Sivi protested. "My friends and I are --"
A thunderous breaker completely swallowed them both, yanking them aggressively into the swelling sea. Had Gil-galad been in only a shirt, tunic, and leggings, he would have been the lighter of the pair, as he was an elf. However, in all three of his most recent dreams, he had been arrayed in his crown and armor; thus, it was Sivi who fought to pull him to the surface, rather than the other way round.
It was a hopeless, surreal struggle against the hostile elements. Sivi, a fair but by no means excellent swimmer, managed to pull the elf's head above the frothing waters. Immediately, he tried to push her from him.
"Swim! Get out of here!"
"You'll drown!" she screamed, clinging to his shoulder plate like a stubborn barnacle.
"I don't matter! You do! Get out of here, Siobhan!"
"Hold on to me, and we'll make it!" she returned, ignoring his words. "I thought Elven armor was light!"
"MITHRIL is light! Even this is lighter than the armor of Men. If it's too heavy, LET GO!" he shouted in exasperation. "Let go if it's NOT too heavy!"
She ignored him. Neither one of them drew any sort of comfort from the fact that it was a dream. It was an Elven dream, which meant that it would be probably less agonizing to drown in real life. Sivi had had dreams of her own death before; they had been anything but pleasant.
"Let go of me, Sivi!"
"I won't!"
"Think it over, human child. How far will you go to save my life? Will you give yours?"
"Yes!"
The dream came to an abrupt end. They lay both of them in bed, Sivi on her cot in the widow's house, Gil-galad in the tower of Ecthalion, breathing harder than either had ever done in his or her life. Sivi heard that final query over and over and over:
"How far will you go to save my life? Will you give yours?"
Over and over she heard her firm, undaunted answer:
"Yes!"
Hi-hi from Phe-chan too! I'm FREE!!! The evil chemistry has been defeated!!! AMIN NA MIRIMA! YES! Er..yes, forgive my sugar.I'm just happy. (chemistry is gone for a while, going to THE MOVIE soon, and a thanks to Psycho-35803 for the chocolate, yes, listening to a cd called "the universe" with Legolas's theme song.much goodness.)
The next day was, for Sivi and her friends, absolutely fruitless. The best plan that any one had come up with in the span of sixteen hours -- from seven in the morning until eleven at night -- was to accost Elendil, Isildur, and Gil-galad at the predecided spot and do their best to distract or delay them until the battle was over. Then Sivi had pointed out that the battle could not BE over until Isildur arrived to cut the One from the Enemy's finger.
"Maybe if we distract them long enough for one of us to ride ahead to Orodruin with a chainsaw..." Christina suggested sarcastically. She was, of course, not serious, and the only one who took her seriously was Legolas, who wanted to know what a chainsaw was.
Sivi decided that the only thing that she could do to aid the elf-king was to wait until she saw Gil-galad that night in her dreams, tell him everything, and beg him not to go.
Meantime, Gil-galad, Elendil, and Isildur were at a very similar moment of indecision. Elendil and Isildur were having a quite heated argument over military tactics, how long each of them expected the siege to last, and so forth. Gil-galad simply sat back and watched them fight, wanting to go to sleep and talk to Sivi.
Sivi waited for Gil-galad in her dream, standing impatiently by the ocean. She perceived dark, ugly clouds gathering ominously overhead. The falmar were choppy and murky black. Puzzled, she realized that she was wearing a dark green T-shirt and jeans. Her hair was in a tight braid down her back, and her feet were clad in snug velcroed sandals. The wind began to whistle fiercely in her ears, and she became frightened.
"Ereinion?" she called. "Gil-galad?"
Elendil was in the middle of a hotly delivered speech to his son Isildur when he saw Gil-galad stiffen visibly. The elf's eyes grew vague and distant. Then he looked sharply at Elendil and said angrily,
"You may tell me the result of this pointless debate on the morrow. I am going to bed."
He stalked out of the room, leaving the two men to stare after him. Once in his chamber, he flung himself down onto his bed without even removing his boots. Determinedly, he fixed his eyes on nothing and was soon asleep.
"Sivi?" he cried as he appeared on the shore. A voice from down the beach called his name above the now screaming winds. It was Sivi, but he was puzzled to see her in strange, foreign looking pants and sandals and a loose, unbelted, short-sleeved shirt. She ran to meet him and threw herself into his arms.
Gil-galad wasn't sure whether to be ecstatic, alarmed, or just plain astounded. His arms encircled her shoulders of their own accord. Before he could say a word, Sivi began to speak so quickly that her could barely understand her. She babbled something about the Elven Rings, another time, another world, Isildur, the Enemy, something called a lawnmower, and then blurted that if he went to battle the next day, he would be killed.
"Melui, Melui," he cried, trying to calm her enough that he might make sense of her words.
A wave broke violently on the shore, splattering them up to their thighs with salt water. Gil-galad, keeping his head, as any noble son of royalty will, pulled Sivi further up onto the beach, away from the tide's groping wet fingers.
"Melui, please be still," he begged. "I do not understand what you are trying to tell me. Slowly and calmly; we have the whole dream before us."
"Please, please don't ride to the siege tomorrow," she managed, starting to cry.
"Why not?" Gil-galad asked, though he feared he already knew.
"You will die," she sobbed, clinging to his shoulders as though she might ensnare him in the dream and so prevent him from riding to his death. A silver ribbon of lightning illuminated the brewing sky and boiling sea. Another wave lashed out at their feet, but this time, neither of them paid it heed.
"How can you know that?" Gil-glad asked sensibly. "Who knows what will happen tomorrow?"
"You don't understand!" Sivi protested. "My friends and I are --"
A thunderous breaker completely swallowed them both, yanking them aggressively into the swelling sea. Had Gil-galad been in only a shirt, tunic, and leggings, he would have been the lighter of the pair, as he was an elf. However, in all three of his most recent dreams, he had been arrayed in his crown and armor; thus, it was Sivi who fought to pull him to the surface, rather than the other way round.
It was a hopeless, surreal struggle against the hostile elements. Sivi, a fair but by no means excellent swimmer, managed to pull the elf's head above the frothing waters. Immediately, he tried to push her from him.
"Swim! Get out of here!"
"You'll drown!" she screamed, clinging to his shoulder plate like a stubborn barnacle.
"I don't matter! You do! Get out of here, Siobhan!"
"Hold on to me, and we'll make it!" she returned, ignoring his words. "I thought Elven armor was light!"
"MITHRIL is light! Even this is lighter than the armor of Men. If it's too heavy, LET GO!" he shouted in exasperation. "Let go if it's NOT too heavy!"
She ignored him. Neither one of them drew any sort of comfort from the fact that it was a dream. It was an Elven dream, which meant that it would be probably less agonizing to drown in real life. Sivi had had dreams of her own death before; they had been anything but pleasant.
"Let go of me, Sivi!"
"I won't!"
"Think it over, human child. How far will you go to save my life? Will you give yours?"
"Yes!"
The dream came to an abrupt end. They lay both of them in bed, Sivi on her cot in the widow's house, Gil-galad in the tower of Ecthalion, breathing harder than either had ever done in his or her life. Sivi heard that final query over and over and over:
"How far will you go to save my life? Will you give yours?"
Over and over she heard her firm, undaunted answer:
"Yes!"