Random Orcs, or We Fell to Middle Earth
Chapter One: Gathering Gloom
by Galadriel Suzy DeTolkien
We fell to earth, a flashing star in the sky. It was night, of course, don't get me wrong, we were nice and poetic looking. However, wind sheer is nowhere as poetic as it sounds. But we fell. It didn't hurt, much. We had jumped through the gate as normal, to find this end high in the stratosphere.
Good thing I wasn't afraid of heights.
Halfway down a force lashed out from a tower far in the distance. For an instant, I caught a glimpse of white robes and cruel mouth. Then the flicker of vision was gone, and Alayna and I were torn from each other.
::Well, hell.:: Being separated from my only means of transport rather bit.
::See you in the future.:: She called philosophically, the wind pulling her away into the distance.
It was irritating, to say the least. And I probably could have stopped her by using telekinesis. But I decided I had more worrying things to deal with. Like the ground that was fast approaching. I checked around myself quickly, catching mountains ahead of me and deep forest just about everywhere else. The silver ribbon of a river was almost directly below me.
A very cold river.
The cute little woodland creatures received a vocabulary lesson as my head broke the surface. I fought the current, trying to stay in one place and get my bearings. Land was a must. And soon, because the river was chilling me to the bone. And soaking through my greatcoat and pants. And my poor boots. They'd never be the same.
I treaded water as best I could, cursing as my boots tried to remove themselves from my feet, dragging at my legs as they filled with water. The nearer bank was probably the eastern bank--given my own pet theory that all rivers flow south, regardless of reality. Or, this could be one of those freaky rivers that flowed clockwise. I struck out for it, and found that the river refused me access.
Fate sucks.
Turning, I studied the west bank, my eyes straining in the dark. It was irritating, since I only seemed to have normal night sight, and NOT my normal Mage-sight. I like seeing in the dark, dammit.
Diving, I slipped under the current, passing through the water, my teeth chattering as I swam. I came up, several feet still from my goal. One last effort was required. And then land! Dry ground. And wood! There was wood. I could make a fire!
With what? I wondered. Any matches I'd had would be wet now. And I wasn't sure how the magic of this new world reacted. I could blow up a mountain while trying to light a small twig.
Crawling up the bank, I cursed. Mud and other things were coating my legs, some sliding into my boot-tops. I could feel itchy crap under my sleeves. I hate dirt in my clothes.
Something jabbed into my back, and I froze. Cold, wet, muddy, and now there was a sharp pointy thing jabbing into my back. Great. Just great.
"Who dares the borders of Lorien?"
Nice voice, sounded a bit young. Male, most likely. "I am Marya. And I didn't know I was on the border of anything, much less Lorien." I came out of the river, you twit.
"Get up."
"It might take a moment. I'm laying on my coat, and it's tangled all up in my legs." Carefully moving, I got my legs under me, then stood. My boots squelched, my coat slapped clammily against my legs and clung to my arms with a sticky tar-like feel. I quickly detangled myself lest I fall over again.
And I was cold.
"What is your business here?"
"Can I turn around?" I have always disliked not being able to see the face of the person I'm about to kick into next week.
"Very well."
I turned slowly, keeping my hands in view, as well as taking a good look around me. My night sight was returning, along with a small glow that seemed to outline all living things. Trees were a green, the man standing in front of me was an icey blue. He was only a slight bit taller than me--or maybe he was standing in a hole. Didn't check. Blond hair was pulled tightly back from his face, two braids hung down the sides of his face, while the rest of the length cascaded down his back in a liquidly frozen waterfall of pure and icy brilliance.
Don't worry, that's the last time I mention it.
Unless I cut it while he's asleep.
For he was a he, with pointy ears. I blinked. An elf with a bow. How cliche. Yeah, yeah. I forgot the bow. It was pointed at me steadily, the arrow a silvery point in the moonlight.
Around us was forest, green trees and gentle ground cover. A few rocks, and lots of moss and grass and mud. Lots of mud.
"I asked you your business."
"Um. Don't have any, right now." I tilted my head at him. "Doesn't it get boring, holding a bow on a person?"
He blinked at me.
"'Cause, I've done it before myself. And that's a *long bow*. And, dude, I *know* how hard it gets after a while. So, why don't you stop, and not worry about me? I'm on the side of Good, always am."
"I am pledged to kill all who enter Lorien without invitation."
"Oh." I pondered that. "Um. Why don't you show me out, and we'll call it even?"
"You--"
"Look, Elfie, I didn't plan to be here. I don't really want to be, I'm tired, I'm wet, I'm freezing my nipples off, and my boots are ruined. Probably." I shifted, and felt dirt tickling the back of my neck. "And, I'm covered in mud. Death would be too much of a relief."
He laughed. "You are strange, but I don't think a threat will come from you." He chuckled as he un-nocked his arrow and tucked it back into the quiver. Then he sobered, "Thank you. Lorien hasn't heard laughter from my lips for years."
"Uh. You're welcome." I blinked. "Who are you, by the way?"
"I am Haldir, Elf of Lothlorien. The Lady of the Wood dislikes much commerce on Her borders."
"Well, as I said, I'm Marya." I reached up and touched my hair; it was nearly dry. "Marya DeZorga, no clan, or anything like that."
"Come, Marya, there are blankets and dry things a small space away from here."
I shivered suddenly. "Good. I don't suppose you have anything hot to drink?"
He nodded, then turned and led me through the trees.
We walked, I'm not sure for how long, as my world began narrowing into the need for warmth, and my will to stay on my feet and not fall. Eventually, I ran into a tree. I heard him chuckle again, then he disappeared.
A moment later, a rope ladder fell down past my shoulder. With a sigh, and a curse for all sylvan folk, I climbed.
The platform I wearily reached was high enough to be unseen, and low enough I wouldn't break my neck if I rolled off. This was good. I didn't need to die soon, I was much happier contemplating naked dryness. I didn't wait, I began stripping. It was a slow and careful strip, since my legs and arms had stiffened with the cold, and protested complicated maneouveres (don't ask me how I got up the ladder).
My greatcoat came first, and I didn't have the energy to weep at its sodden state as I draped it over the edge of the platform hoping it would dry by morning. My shirt was next, the white letters on it proclaiming me the Goddess of War and Chocolate. Haldir made an amused sound, but I ignored him, preferring to work on my boots.
Bare feet felt wonderful after mud and wet and cold. I unbuckled my swordbelt, letting it rest next to my boots. My pants came next. And then came the difficult part.
I had knife-sheaths banded around me in an intricate pattern. It normally wasn't this bad, but there'd been this ceremony thing, and, well... Anyway. I had to take them off in the order they'd gone on, or they'd get all tangled up. And untangling straps is a bitch.
Five minutes later, I was down to dragon mail and underwear. I unzipped the mail, letting it flop to my feet, then sighed happily, free of almost everything now.
The mail had been a gift from a friend several universes back. It was light, completely black, and changed shape as I needed it to.
I scooped up a blanket and wrapped it around myself happily.
"Here." Haldir pressed a cup into my hand, and I accepted it, happy to find it was warm. He apparently hadn't been perturbed at my stripping. It irked, slightly, but I could live with it.
"So. Haldir, you wouldn't happen to know a way to get things dry fast, would you?" I wasn't holding out hope for a dryer. Something told me this world wasn't even wired for lights. Electricity was probably magic. I thought longingly of a coffee pot.
"I'm afraid not. But you may borrow some of my clothing in the morning."
"Er. Thanks." I sipped at the drink, happy to find it was some sort of mulled wine with herbs in it. "Um. Bed?"
"I'm afraid we just sleep directly on the platform. But you can have an extra blanket."
He handed me one as I sat down. "Again. My thanks." I finished the mug quickly, then set it down. "If you don't mind, I need sleep now. Ask any questions you have in the morning."
"Yes." He looked down at me, suddenly troubled. "I shall."
I thought about asking whether I should serve on a watch, then decided not to bother. I was tired, more tired than I had been for a long time. It was time to sleep.
--
A desolate land lay before me, haunted by the cries of the dead and the tortured screams of those still alive. I stared at it, shivering in the cold wind. Water and the smell of old blood and other things floated on the breezes.
Scraggly trees dotted that area around me, almost white in the pale sunlight that fell on them. They'd never had leaves, I don't think. Or if they had, the leaves had all burned away to dust.
Dust and debris showered around me, the scene changing. I stood on the lip of a volcano, staring down into its heart. Something horrible was below me. A figure that oozed evil. Evil that I had met before and bested. It had so much power as it stood there, gloating.
A gleam of gold lay on its finger as it turned this way and that, extending its power out into its realm, and further, touching others. I felt places far away give, falling to darkness and pain.
Night fell, the trees rustling angrily to themselves as they walked beneath them. I was merely a fly on a branch, buzzing around, uninterested.
Ambush.
I watched as the leader slunk away, a ring of gold on one finger.
Scene change again, this time a dark pit of despair wrapped around me, a voice whispering to itself. Pain and shock, rage and sorrow filled me. And pity.
The voice delved into my head, worming its way around my mind, trying to corrupt, trying to destroy sane thought.
"Precious... my Precious..."
My mind whimpered away from the despair, seeking comfort and light.
There was none in the pitiless grey of a mountain pass. Cold air blasted out, trying to remove me from my clinging position there. Rocks fell around me, one hitting my right hand. I felt it go numb, releasing its precarious hold.
For an instant I dangled. And then I fell, pain taking me down into dark again.
I fought it, fought for release, for awareness of reality.
And sat up, a voice echoing in my head as I did, "North..."
Light shone down on me, playing in green and gold boughs. I stared at it, trying to sort it out, remember who I was. Where... For a moment I considered dropping my shields and reading the forest with telepathy. Immediately I decided that would be a bad idea.
"You're awake."
The voice sent me to my feet, crouching.
I must have looked really silly, standing there, swaying and shivering as the blankets fell, leaving me naked. Well, almost naked.
Haldir chuckled. "I'm not your enemy. The Lady has granted you life, but bids you leave her realm as soon as may be."
"Thank you." I grabbed a blanket and curled into it. "Um. I don't suppose you have those clothes..."
"In a moment." He turned away and rummaged in a chest.
Since it was light, I could see the little platform cum-treehouse better. It was actually rather large, with several small chests that must have housed supplies and weapons. I didn't bother looking over an edge. Making myself dizzy would be idiotic.
"Here." He handed me a tunic and trousers. "I'm afraid I've taken your weapons--they'll be returned once you leave the Border."
"Ah. I'd wondered about that." With a shrug I dropped the blanket and hastily scrambled into the clothes. The dragon mail and other things could wait.
"Slippers?"
With clothes on, I was much warmer. And I had a feeling I'd be even warmer once I started. "Nah. I'll be fine barefoot."
"Then, if you're ready."
"Gimme a second." I grabbed my boots and tossed them over the side, followed by the mail, greatcoat, t-shirt, and pants I'd been wearing the night before. "There." I turned and slid through the hole in the platform, feet finding the ladder rungs easily.
Once on the ground I collected my belongings, glaring at the still completely soaked boots. They could take days to dry. And I didn't have the time. I sighed.
"This way."
I followed as he led through the wood of gold and green. The ground was dry and cool in most places, feeling wonderful on my feet as we walked. Fairly soon we came to the edge of the Golden Wood, and I sighed as I stepped out from its shade. I felt bereft, as if something wonderful was sadly releasing me.
"Your weapons." Haldir held them out to me, and I looped an arm through the tangle with a grimace. "Marya, please avoid Lorien, if you can. The Lady only grants favour once. And usually not at all. You were lucky."
"I know. Thank you. And thank her, please." I turned from him and checked the position of the sun. North was ahead of me, along the bank of the river as it flowed. Grass lay under my feet, crisp and slightly ragged.
I walked for a long time, avoiding any place that looked painful to feet, always angling north. I knew not where I was headed, but there was someone I had to meet.
He was going to die in a mountain pass, otherwise.
I hate precognitive dreams.
--
I encountered no one as I followed the river. Surprisingly, the air was quite warm. I wondered if I'd been wrong in assuming the season was winter. Maybe the river was naturally colder than hell freezing over. Either that or I was just energy deprived.
The thought occurred to me that I should take a moment to trance down and see what sort of magic lay around me. I could use the drying spell then, and have my boots back.
I weighed the pros and cons of it. On the one hand, it might flash like a beacon of light to any other magic-doer in the world. On the other, not knowing my strengths would handicap me when it came to fights. There was also the fact that I had a tendency to 'leak' magic in a new world. The elf hadn't seemed to notice anything, but it could have just been lost in the surrounding woods.
My foot encountered a rock, at that point, and I was reduced to much loud cursing.
That settled it, I decided, tossing my clothing and weapons and boots down. For better or for worse, I needed to find out my limitations in this new world. And dry my things, besides.
Of course, the dragon mail was dry, but I couldn't wear just that. Especially since it wasn't like footie pyjamas. My feet needed protection. And at some point, I needed to address things like the tackiness of my hair, and the mud dried on various portions of my anatomy. Most of it had been cracked off during the night, but I still would have preferred a bath. Even cold, but getting in and out of the river would add more mud. Defeating the purpose, really.
I sat down cross-legged, feet tucked out of the way of any cold breezes. My eyes drifted closed, and I began slowing my breathing, preparing to slip into a trance that would allow me to view my options.
The world around me darkened, the sunlight sliding away as something took my inner vision, showing it a picture that seemed to move. I sighed as yet another 'movie' slid across my mind, this one regarding two brothers. One found a ring in the middle of the river, while diving for fish. The other coveted it.
"It is my birthday, my Precious."
"You can't have it, Smeagol. It's mine."
Smeagol whined and hissed, "You should gift it me, my Preciousss. Yessss."
The other man crouched on the bank, happy with his find. It glittered gold in the sunlight there. For a moment, the river chuckled happily to itself in the silence. And then Smeagol tackled his brother.
All was still again much later, the body of Deagol buried in some dank cave, while Smeagol took his Precious and went away. I shuddered at the lust and greed that the ring seemed to engender in everyone and everything. For it had to be the ring. The same one I'd seen in my earlier nightmares.
For a moment, I could sense the ring, calling to me, calling to its master more likely. But I could feel it. Away to the west and north, it pulled.
I wrenched out of the trance, panting. Apparently, I was being given a history lesson to this world whether I liked it or not. And it was shaping up to be an epic history, with lots of derring-do, and Fate. I sighed.
Fate can kiss my ass.
--
The magic in the air around me responded to my careful probes by reacting much like any other magic. In this, I was glad, because something told me I'd need some major spells before the side of Good won the day.
I studied my boots a moment, then carefully called the drying spell to me. It fluttered around like a butterfly, then dove into the boots, removing the moisture. I sent it after the rest of my clothing, happy that very little of it seemed to ripple the magic around me.
I didn't light up like a beacon in the fog. This was good.
Once my clothes were dry, I began the long process of putting them on--with weapons in the right places. Those damned straps chafe if not positioned just right.
Dragon mail, first. I sealed the last section of zipper and stretched, feeling it settle correctly in various places. The weapons came next, the straps tangling, then settling properly. I'll admit I used just a bit of TK to get them settled right, since I only have two hands, not four. Pants next. I buckled my swordbelt over them, wriggling my hips to get it sitting properly. My t-shirt still loudly proclaimed me the Goddess of War and Chocolate, and I pondered that. This was a world without electricity, sewing machines, or even coffee makers. A bit of writing on a shirt might discomfit people. I might like putting people off-centre, but even I didn't need the headache that would be the endless questions it would cause. I flipped the shirt inside out and pulled it on.
The dragon mail faded to invisible, then, as it tended to do once I had clothing over it. It was the most useful property the stuff had (well, aside from the 'stops cannonballs' aspect) and had kept people from discovering it even when I was unconscious, stripped, and at the mercy of enemies.
Which wasn't often.
I pulled on my boots, happy that they were now dry and snuggly again. They'd been lined with soft fur, which kept me from freezing my toes off in winter. I checked that the two boot knives were safe, then pulled all the straps tight and tied my laces.
Now, there was nothing left, but the greatcoat. I folded the elf clothing into a bundle, and shoved it into one of the pockets of the coat, then draped it over an arm. For it was much too warm to put it on.
The sun was shining, birds were singing. And it was high time I continued on my way. Fate wanted me north. I wanted to be away from here. And there was sure to be more Portents and Signs.
Miles north of where I'd stopped to dry my clothing, I came upon an ancient battlefield. It resonated with old death and sadness. Betrayal and pain skittered along my bones, and I tightened my shields in irritation.
A glint of metal attracted my eye, and I stepped towards it. The sword tip had broken off long ago, been buried in mud, and now glinted in the sunlight.
Uh-huh. Right. "OK, I get it." I muttered. I knelt and closed my eyes, loosening my shields slightly.
A cascade of images assaulted me. Mostly battles and deaths, men dying valiantly, injured by massive evil creatures. Men fighting men. Ambush, chaos. One man slipped away, a ring on his finger glinting in the sunlight. He was invisible to the others, but the sunlight shone on the ring, catching the eyes of orc archers. Orcs? The archers shot at the man as he dove into the river.
And the ring slipped off his finger, revealing him completely to their sight.
I shivered as he became peppered with arrows, a rabbit ripe for the stew, blood saturating the water as he floated away down the river.
The ring shone as it floated to the bottom. Lost, forever, until... It was the brothers again, Deagol and Smeagol, and I blinked out of the visions, sighing.
So. A ring of power, lost through the ages and found again. It exerted a hold over all who saw it, and I wondered what would happen if I wore it.
Probably nothing.
I stared sightlessly at the battlefield, pondering my options. Fate had dragged me here, plunked me down into the middle of a story. And I was betting there was gonna be a quest involved. And epic stuff. I hoped it wouldn't be as boring as the Wheel of Time, or other things of that nature.
Shaking my head, I stood and, ignoring the sword tip, strode on northwards.
--
By midday, I had passed beyond starving and was fast approaching sick with hunger. Deciding living was the better part of valour, I slipped into the trees, hunting with a sword.
There's an art to hunting with a sword. For one thing, you have to be really fast. For another, you have to be completely silent. I happen to be damned good at it. It helps that I've had over a thousand years of practise. Of course, part of that was probably hunting with a bow. But I didn't have one, so I was settling for my sword.
As I beheaded a rabbit, I wondered if it would give me any sort of prophetic flashes into my future or past. It didn't, and I quickly dressed it. And realised I needed a fire.
I moved back to the riverside, and found a good spot for a bonfire. Then I hung the rabbit high in the trees and tramped back into the woods after a few more. If I smoked them, I'd have food for several days.
Four more rabbits, and I had a nice amount ready to be smoked. I carefully hung them all above the spot I'd planned to make the fire in. Then I created a magical barrier, sort of a variation on the drying spell and a shield against physical things (like arrows). I kindled the fire, happy to see that it drew straight up into the cone of the magical funnel. It would take about four hours for the accelerated heat to smoke the rabbits to perfection. And then I'd be able to carry them and not worry about spoilage. My mouth watered. And I'd be able to eat.
I decided to take advantage of the time it would take to find a bathing spot. Dry mud only itches for so long before it becomes a real nuisance. And it had passed both those stages.
--
Two days of traveling through ever green and lush and rivery country are enough to send me almost mad. Especially when I'm all alone, with nothing to talk to or fight. Maybe my mind was just going.
I don't know.
At least I didn't get an arrow in the back, this time. No, this time, the elf-guy pointed an arrow at my front.
"Hi. Do you mind not pointing that at me?"
"Who are you?"
"I swear, you elf-people are so not into conversation. I'm Marya, and you are?"
He straightened and replied proudly, "I am Legolas, of Mirkwood."
"That's nice." I continued standing, my arms loose at my sides, my senses screeching at me about saving his life at some point. Yeah, yeah. So he was going to fall to a rocky death without me. But how to convince him of that?
It was almost night now. I'd caught him unawares, heading west towards the mountains. He studied me, his eyes dark in the twilight.
"Look, Legolas..." My voice trailed off. I couldn't think of anything to say that didn't sound stupid or cliche. I couldn't demand to have his child, he wasn't THAT cute after all. Besides, it was just wrong. "I need to go to Rivendell." I blinked. The name had just popped out. When the hell had I heard it before?
"Rivendell?" He blinked at me, the arrow and bow slowly un-nocking from each other. "I am headed there."
"Splendid! We'll go together. Two on the road is much more safe than one." I smiled through my gritted teeth. I could get anywhere faster alone. But this one was a major player, and needed me.
I hate Fate.
--
Legolas seemed puzzled, but willing to let me travel with him. We went on into the night, until even he couldn't see to find the way. We made a small camp under the shadows of a tree. I stifled a yawn and curled up in the greatcoat, "You want me to take first watch?"
"There is no need to watch. These lands are peaceful."
"Cool." I settled down, my arm pillowing my head. "Wake me for breakfast."
I had escaped nightmares the night before. The night before that had been a replay of every battle that this section of land had ever faced, including the ambush and loss of the Ring. Again. So I expected nightmares.
And I got them in brilliant fucking technicolour.
I saw the land bathed in blood and darkness. Armies marched relentlessly, taking the people and driving them in front. Cannon fodder. I felt sickened as those who tried to fight ended up killing those they would protect. And still more battalions of orcs marched on. Wave after wave, killing and raping. Burning the fields and hacking down the trees. At one moment, trees fought back. But not enough. Never enough.
And the land screamed its pain through me, erupting out of this cancerous boil of evil.
The dark tower caught me, pain shivering out along my nerve ends as they applied hot tongs and more torturous implements to my mind and soul. I screamed, power shattering outwards, cracks dancing along the edge of the world wrapped in spider webs and processed cheese.
Mounds of lava caught my attention away from that, and I found myself skiing down a mountainside, my skis made of two ancient bones, the 'snow' a thick layer of ash. I glanced behind myself, to find a wave of lava flowing down on me. I dug in the poles and shoved off, the ash almost as slick as ice. Except for where rocks stuck out of it, I avoided them as best I could until one caught an edge of my left ski.
I went flying, flipping over and over to land in a marsh.
Mud and silt oozed into my clothes, coating me in a foul-smelling substance as I struggled to stand. The mere sucked me in deeper, until I was in it up to my neck. I tried to use telekinesis to free myself, but it was like walking into a brick wall. I couldn't move, could barely breathe for the stench choking me.
Scene change again. Now I was standing in grasslands, brittle green grass up to my knees. There were horses all around me, most not paying much attention. As I watched, it darkened towards evening. Night fell, stars brilliantly scattered across a cloudless sky. I noticed that the constellations appeared in a different configuration than where I was. South of me?
A horse roved into view, contentedly munching on cud.
I knew the horse. It was Alayna, her coat a silvery grey in the starlight. I wondered what colour it was in sunlight. Normally, she was a fairly bright green. We could occasionally disguise it, but it was hard. I usually just told people she was a freak of nature.
::Shut up and watch.::
Herds of horses traveled the plains. And then something arose, something passed them in the night, sending terror into their hearts. I watched as nine black riders came out of the East and scattered the herds on their way into the West. Evil and corruption tainted the land as they strove across it. I shivered, mind reeling at this evidence of evil.
Fate was always irritating, but chose well its tools.
Chapter One: Gathering Gloom
by Galadriel Suzy DeTolkien
We fell to earth, a flashing star in the sky. It was night, of course, don't get me wrong, we were nice and poetic looking. However, wind sheer is nowhere as poetic as it sounds. But we fell. It didn't hurt, much. We had jumped through the gate as normal, to find this end high in the stratosphere.
Good thing I wasn't afraid of heights.
Halfway down a force lashed out from a tower far in the distance. For an instant, I caught a glimpse of white robes and cruel mouth. Then the flicker of vision was gone, and Alayna and I were torn from each other.
::Well, hell.:: Being separated from my only means of transport rather bit.
::See you in the future.:: She called philosophically, the wind pulling her away into the distance.
It was irritating, to say the least. And I probably could have stopped her by using telekinesis. But I decided I had more worrying things to deal with. Like the ground that was fast approaching. I checked around myself quickly, catching mountains ahead of me and deep forest just about everywhere else. The silver ribbon of a river was almost directly below me.
A very cold river.
The cute little woodland creatures received a vocabulary lesson as my head broke the surface. I fought the current, trying to stay in one place and get my bearings. Land was a must. And soon, because the river was chilling me to the bone. And soaking through my greatcoat and pants. And my poor boots. They'd never be the same.
I treaded water as best I could, cursing as my boots tried to remove themselves from my feet, dragging at my legs as they filled with water. The nearer bank was probably the eastern bank--given my own pet theory that all rivers flow south, regardless of reality. Or, this could be one of those freaky rivers that flowed clockwise. I struck out for it, and found that the river refused me access.
Fate sucks.
Turning, I studied the west bank, my eyes straining in the dark. It was irritating, since I only seemed to have normal night sight, and NOT my normal Mage-sight. I like seeing in the dark, dammit.
Diving, I slipped under the current, passing through the water, my teeth chattering as I swam. I came up, several feet still from my goal. One last effort was required. And then land! Dry ground. And wood! There was wood. I could make a fire!
With what? I wondered. Any matches I'd had would be wet now. And I wasn't sure how the magic of this new world reacted. I could blow up a mountain while trying to light a small twig.
Crawling up the bank, I cursed. Mud and other things were coating my legs, some sliding into my boot-tops. I could feel itchy crap under my sleeves. I hate dirt in my clothes.
Something jabbed into my back, and I froze. Cold, wet, muddy, and now there was a sharp pointy thing jabbing into my back. Great. Just great.
"Who dares the borders of Lorien?"
Nice voice, sounded a bit young. Male, most likely. "I am Marya. And I didn't know I was on the border of anything, much less Lorien." I came out of the river, you twit.
"Get up."
"It might take a moment. I'm laying on my coat, and it's tangled all up in my legs." Carefully moving, I got my legs under me, then stood. My boots squelched, my coat slapped clammily against my legs and clung to my arms with a sticky tar-like feel. I quickly detangled myself lest I fall over again.
And I was cold.
"What is your business here?"
"Can I turn around?" I have always disliked not being able to see the face of the person I'm about to kick into next week.
"Very well."
I turned slowly, keeping my hands in view, as well as taking a good look around me. My night sight was returning, along with a small glow that seemed to outline all living things. Trees were a green, the man standing in front of me was an icey blue. He was only a slight bit taller than me--or maybe he was standing in a hole. Didn't check. Blond hair was pulled tightly back from his face, two braids hung down the sides of his face, while the rest of the length cascaded down his back in a liquidly frozen waterfall of pure and icy brilliance.
Don't worry, that's the last time I mention it.
Unless I cut it while he's asleep.
For he was a he, with pointy ears. I blinked. An elf with a bow. How cliche. Yeah, yeah. I forgot the bow. It was pointed at me steadily, the arrow a silvery point in the moonlight.
Around us was forest, green trees and gentle ground cover. A few rocks, and lots of moss and grass and mud. Lots of mud.
"I asked you your business."
"Um. Don't have any, right now." I tilted my head at him. "Doesn't it get boring, holding a bow on a person?"
He blinked at me.
"'Cause, I've done it before myself. And that's a *long bow*. And, dude, I *know* how hard it gets after a while. So, why don't you stop, and not worry about me? I'm on the side of Good, always am."
"I am pledged to kill all who enter Lorien without invitation."
"Oh." I pondered that. "Um. Why don't you show me out, and we'll call it even?"
"You--"
"Look, Elfie, I didn't plan to be here. I don't really want to be, I'm tired, I'm wet, I'm freezing my nipples off, and my boots are ruined. Probably." I shifted, and felt dirt tickling the back of my neck. "And, I'm covered in mud. Death would be too much of a relief."
He laughed. "You are strange, but I don't think a threat will come from you." He chuckled as he un-nocked his arrow and tucked it back into the quiver. Then he sobered, "Thank you. Lorien hasn't heard laughter from my lips for years."
"Uh. You're welcome." I blinked. "Who are you, by the way?"
"I am Haldir, Elf of Lothlorien. The Lady of the Wood dislikes much commerce on Her borders."
"Well, as I said, I'm Marya." I reached up and touched my hair; it was nearly dry. "Marya DeZorga, no clan, or anything like that."
"Come, Marya, there are blankets and dry things a small space away from here."
I shivered suddenly. "Good. I don't suppose you have anything hot to drink?"
He nodded, then turned and led me through the trees.
We walked, I'm not sure for how long, as my world began narrowing into the need for warmth, and my will to stay on my feet and not fall. Eventually, I ran into a tree. I heard him chuckle again, then he disappeared.
A moment later, a rope ladder fell down past my shoulder. With a sigh, and a curse for all sylvan folk, I climbed.
The platform I wearily reached was high enough to be unseen, and low enough I wouldn't break my neck if I rolled off. This was good. I didn't need to die soon, I was much happier contemplating naked dryness. I didn't wait, I began stripping. It was a slow and careful strip, since my legs and arms had stiffened with the cold, and protested complicated maneouveres (don't ask me how I got up the ladder).
My greatcoat came first, and I didn't have the energy to weep at its sodden state as I draped it over the edge of the platform hoping it would dry by morning. My shirt was next, the white letters on it proclaiming me the Goddess of War and Chocolate. Haldir made an amused sound, but I ignored him, preferring to work on my boots.
Bare feet felt wonderful after mud and wet and cold. I unbuckled my swordbelt, letting it rest next to my boots. My pants came next. And then came the difficult part.
I had knife-sheaths banded around me in an intricate pattern. It normally wasn't this bad, but there'd been this ceremony thing, and, well... Anyway. I had to take them off in the order they'd gone on, or they'd get all tangled up. And untangling straps is a bitch.
Five minutes later, I was down to dragon mail and underwear. I unzipped the mail, letting it flop to my feet, then sighed happily, free of almost everything now.
The mail had been a gift from a friend several universes back. It was light, completely black, and changed shape as I needed it to.
I scooped up a blanket and wrapped it around myself happily.
"Here." Haldir pressed a cup into my hand, and I accepted it, happy to find it was warm. He apparently hadn't been perturbed at my stripping. It irked, slightly, but I could live with it.
"So. Haldir, you wouldn't happen to know a way to get things dry fast, would you?" I wasn't holding out hope for a dryer. Something told me this world wasn't even wired for lights. Electricity was probably magic. I thought longingly of a coffee pot.
"I'm afraid not. But you may borrow some of my clothing in the morning."
"Er. Thanks." I sipped at the drink, happy to find it was some sort of mulled wine with herbs in it. "Um. Bed?"
"I'm afraid we just sleep directly on the platform. But you can have an extra blanket."
He handed me one as I sat down. "Again. My thanks." I finished the mug quickly, then set it down. "If you don't mind, I need sleep now. Ask any questions you have in the morning."
"Yes." He looked down at me, suddenly troubled. "I shall."
I thought about asking whether I should serve on a watch, then decided not to bother. I was tired, more tired than I had been for a long time. It was time to sleep.
--
A desolate land lay before me, haunted by the cries of the dead and the tortured screams of those still alive. I stared at it, shivering in the cold wind. Water and the smell of old blood and other things floated on the breezes.
Scraggly trees dotted that area around me, almost white in the pale sunlight that fell on them. They'd never had leaves, I don't think. Or if they had, the leaves had all burned away to dust.
Dust and debris showered around me, the scene changing. I stood on the lip of a volcano, staring down into its heart. Something horrible was below me. A figure that oozed evil. Evil that I had met before and bested. It had so much power as it stood there, gloating.
A gleam of gold lay on its finger as it turned this way and that, extending its power out into its realm, and further, touching others. I felt places far away give, falling to darkness and pain.
Night fell, the trees rustling angrily to themselves as they walked beneath them. I was merely a fly on a branch, buzzing around, uninterested.
Ambush.
I watched as the leader slunk away, a ring of gold on one finger.
Scene change again, this time a dark pit of despair wrapped around me, a voice whispering to itself. Pain and shock, rage and sorrow filled me. And pity.
The voice delved into my head, worming its way around my mind, trying to corrupt, trying to destroy sane thought.
"Precious... my Precious..."
My mind whimpered away from the despair, seeking comfort and light.
There was none in the pitiless grey of a mountain pass. Cold air blasted out, trying to remove me from my clinging position there. Rocks fell around me, one hitting my right hand. I felt it go numb, releasing its precarious hold.
For an instant I dangled. And then I fell, pain taking me down into dark again.
I fought it, fought for release, for awareness of reality.
And sat up, a voice echoing in my head as I did, "North..."
Light shone down on me, playing in green and gold boughs. I stared at it, trying to sort it out, remember who I was. Where... For a moment I considered dropping my shields and reading the forest with telepathy. Immediately I decided that would be a bad idea.
"You're awake."
The voice sent me to my feet, crouching.
I must have looked really silly, standing there, swaying and shivering as the blankets fell, leaving me naked. Well, almost naked.
Haldir chuckled. "I'm not your enemy. The Lady has granted you life, but bids you leave her realm as soon as may be."
"Thank you." I grabbed a blanket and curled into it. "Um. I don't suppose you have those clothes..."
"In a moment." He turned away and rummaged in a chest.
Since it was light, I could see the little platform cum-treehouse better. It was actually rather large, with several small chests that must have housed supplies and weapons. I didn't bother looking over an edge. Making myself dizzy would be idiotic.
"Here." He handed me a tunic and trousers. "I'm afraid I've taken your weapons--they'll be returned once you leave the Border."
"Ah. I'd wondered about that." With a shrug I dropped the blanket and hastily scrambled into the clothes. The dragon mail and other things could wait.
"Slippers?"
With clothes on, I was much warmer. And I had a feeling I'd be even warmer once I started. "Nah. I'll be fine barefoot."
"Then, if you're ready."
"Gimme a second." I grabbed my boots and tossed them over the side, followed by the mail, greatcoat, t-shirt, and pants I'd been wearing the night before. "There." I turned and slid through the hole in the platform, feet finding the ladder rungs easily.
Once on the ground I collected my belongings, glaring at the still completely soaked boots. They could take days to dry. And I didn't have the time. I sighed.
"This way."
I followed as he led through the wood of gold and green. The ground was dry and cool in most places, feeling wonderful on my feet as we walked. Fairly soon we came to the edge of the Golden Wood, and I sighed as I stepped out from its shade. I felt bereft, as if something wonderful was sadly releasing me.
"Your weapons." Haldir held them out to me, and I looped an arm through the tangle with a grimace. "Marya, please avoid Lorien, if you can. The Lady only grants favour once. And usually not at all. You were lucky."
"I know. Thank you. And thank her, please." I turned from him and checked the position of the sun. North was ahead of me, along the bank of the river as it flowed. Grass lay under my feet, crisp and slightly ragged.
I walked for a long time, avoiding any place that looked painful to feet, always angling north. I knew not where I was headed, but there was someone I had to meet.
He was going to die in a mountain pass, otherwise.
I hate precognitive dreams.
--
I encountered no one as I followed the river. Surprisingly, the air was quite warm. I wondered if I'd been wrong in assuming the season was winter. Maybe the river was naturally colder than hell freezing over. Either that or I was just energy deprived.
The thought occurred to me that I should take a moment to trance down and see what sort of magic lay around me. I could use the drying spell then, and have my boots back.
I weighed the pros and cons of it. On the one hand, it might flash like a beacon of light to any other magic-doer in the world. On the other, not knowing my strengths would handicap me when it came to fights. There was also the fact that I had a tendency to 'leak' magic in a new world. The elf hadn't seemed to notice anything, but it could have just been lost in the surrounding woods.
My foot encountered a rock, at that point, and I was reduced to much loud cursing.
That settled it, I decided, tossing my clothing and weapons and boots down. For better or for worse, I needed to find out my limitations in this new world. And dry my things, besides.
Of course, the dragon mail was dry, but I couldn't wear just that. Especially since it wasn't like footie pyjamas. My feet needed protection. And at some point, I needed to address things like the tackiness of my hair, and the mud dried on various portions of my anatomy. Most of it had been cracked off during the night, but I still would have preferred a bath. Even cold, but getting in and out of the river would add more mud. Defeating the purpose, really.
I sat down cross-legged, feet tucked out of the way of any cold breezes. My eyes drifted closed, and I began slowing my breathing, preparing to slip into a trance that would allow me to view my options.
The world around me darkened, the sunlight sliding away as something took my inner vision, showing it a picture that seemed to move. I sighed as yet another 'movie' slid across my mind, this one regarding two brothers. One found a ring in the middle of the river, while diving for fish. The other coveted it.
"It is my birthday, my Precious."
"You can't have it, Smeagol. It's mine."
Smeagol whined and hissed, "You should gift it me, my Preciousss. Yessss."
The other man crouched on the bank, happy with his find. It glittered gold in the sunlight there. For a moment, the river chuckled happily to itself in the silence. And then Smeagol tackled his brother.
All was still again much later, the body of Deagol buried in some dank cave, while Smeagol took his Precious and went away. I shuddered at the lust and greed that the ring seemed to engender in everyone and everything. For it had to be the ring. The same one I'd seen in my earlier nightmares.
For a moment, I could sense the ring, calling to me, calling to its master more likely. But I could feel it. Away to the west and north, it pulled.
I wrenched out of the trance, panting. Apparently, I was being given a history lesson to this world whether I liked it or not. And it was shaping up to be an epic history, with lots of derring-do, and Fate. I sighed.
Fate can kiss my ass.
--
The magic in the air around me responded to my careful probes by reacting much like any other magic. In this, I was glad, because something told me I'd need some major spells before the side of Good won the day.
I studied my boots a moment, then carefully called the drying spell to me. It fluttered around like a butterfly, then dove into the boots, removing the moisture. I sent it after the rest of my clothing, happy that very little of it seemed to ripple the magic around me.
I didn't light up like a beacon in the fog. This was good.
Once my clothes were dry, I began the long process of putting them on--with weapons in the right places. Those damned straps chafe if not positioned just right.
Dragon mail, first. I sealed the last section of zipper and stretched, feeling it settle correctly in various places. The weapons came next, the straps tangling, then settling properly. I'll admit I used just a bit of TK to get them settled right, since I only have two hands, not four. Pants next. I buckled my swordbelt over them, wriggling my hips to get it sitting properly. My t-shirt still loudly proclaimed me the Goddess of War and Chocolate, and I pondered that. This was a world without electricity, sewing machines, or even coffee makers. A bit of writing on a shirt might discomfit people. I might like putting people off-centre, but even I didn't need the headache that would be the endless questions it would cause. I flipped the shirt inside out and pulled it on.
The dragon mail faded to invisible, then, as it tended to do once I had clothing over it. It was the most useful property the stuff had (well, aside from the 'stops cannonballs' aspect) and had kept people from discovering it even when I was unconscious, stripped, and at the mercy of enemies.
Which wasn't often.
I pulled on my boots, happy that they were now dry and snuggly again. They'd been lined with soft fur, which kept me from freezing my toes off in winter. I checked that the two boot knives were safe, then pulled all the straps tight and tied my laces.
Now, there was nothing left, but the greatcoat. I folded the elf clothing into a bundle, and shoved it into one of the pockets of the coat, then draped it over an arm. For it was much too warm to put it on.
The sun was shining, birds were singing. And it was high time I continued on my way. Fate wanted me north. I wanted to be away from here. And there was sure to be more Portents and Signs.
Miles north of where I'd stopped to dry my clothing, I came upon an ancient battlefield. It resonated with old death and sadness. Betrayal and pain skittered along my bones, and I tightened my shields in irritation.
A glint of metal attracted my eye, and I stepped towards it. The sword tip had broken off long ago, been buried in mud, and now glinted in the sunlight.
Uh-huh. Right. "OK, I get it." I muttered. I knelt and closed my eyes, loosening my shields slightly.
A cascade of images assaulted me. Mostly battles and deaths, men dying valiantly, injured by massive evil creatures. Men fighting men. Ambush, chaos. One man slipped away, a ring on his finger glinting in the sunlight. He was invisible to the others, but the sunlight shone on the ring, catching the eyes of orc archers. Orcs? The archers shot at the man as he dove into the river.
And the ring slipped off his finger, revealing him completely to their sight.
I shivered as he became peppered with arrows, a rabbit ripe for the stew, blood saturating the water as he floated away down the river.
The ring shone as it floated to the bottom. Lost, forever, until... It was the brothers again, Deagol and Smeagol, and I blinked out of the visions, sighing.
So. A ring of power, lost through the ages and found again. It exerted a hold over all who saw it, and I wondered what would happen if I wore it.
Probably nothing.
I stared sightlessly at the battlefield, pondering my options. Fate had dragged me here, plunked me down into the middle of a story. And I was betting there was gonna be a quest involved. And epic stuff. I hoped it wouldn't be as boring as the Wheel of Time, or other things of that nature.
Shaking my head, I stood and, ignoring the sword tip, strode on northwards.
--
By midday, I had passed beyond starving and was fast approaching sick with hunger. Deciding living was the better part of valour, I slipped into the trees, hunting with a sword.
There's an art to hunting with a sword. For one thing, you have to be really fast. For another, you have to be completely silent. I happen to be damned good at it. It helps that I've had over a thousand years of practise. Of course, part of that was probably hunting with a bow. But I didn't have one, so I was settling for my sword.
As I beheaded a rabbit, I wondered if it would give me any sort of prophetic flashes into my future or past. It didn't, and I quickly dressed it. And realised I needed a fire.
I moved back to the riverside, and found a good spot for a bonfire. Then I hung the rabbit high in the trees and tramped back into the woods after a few more. If I smoked them, I'd have food for several days.
Four more rabbits, and I had a nice amount ready to be smoked. I carefully hung them all above the spot I'd planned to make the fire in. Then I created a magical barrier, sort of a variation on the drying spell and a shield against physical things (like arrows). I kindled the fire, happy to see that it drew straight up into the cone of the magical funnel. It would take about four hours for the accelerated heat to smoke the rabbits to perfection. And then I'd be able to carry them and not worry about spoilage. My mouth watered. And I'd be able to eat.
I decided to take advantage of the time it would take to find a bathing spot. Dry mud only itches for so long before it becomes a real nuisance. And it had passed both those stages.
--
Two days of traveling through ever green and lush and rivery country are enough to send me almost mad. Especially when I'm all alone, with nothing to talk to or fight. Maybe my mind was just going.
I don't know.
At least I didn't get an arrow in the back, this time. No, this time, the elf-guy pointed an arrow at my front.
"Hi. Do you mind not pointing that at me?"
"Who are you?"
"I swear, you elf-people are so not into conversation. I'm Marya, and you are?"
He straightened and replied proudly, "I am Legolas, of Mirkwood."
"That's nice." I continued standing, my arms loose at my sides, my senses screeching at me about saving his life at some point. Yeah, yeah. So he was going to fall to a rocky death without me. But how to convince him of that?
It was almost night now. I'd caught him unawares, heading west towards the mountains. He studied me, his eyes dark in the twilight.
"Look, Legolas..." My voice trailed off. I couldn't think of anything to say that didn't sound stupid or cliche. I couldn't demand to have his child, he wasn't THAT cute after all. Besides, it was just wrong. "I need to go to Rivendell." I blinked. The name had just popped out. When the hell had I heard it before?
"Rivendell?" He blinked at me, the arrow and bow slowly un-nocking from each other. "I am headed there."
"Splendid! We'll go together. Two on the road is much more safe than one." I smiled through my gritted teeth. I could get anywhere faster alone. But this one was a major player, and needed me.
I hate Fate.
--
Legolas seemed puzzled, but willing to let me travel with him. We went on into the night, until even he couldn't see to find the way. We made a small camp under the shadows of a tree. I stifled a yawn and curled up in the greatcoat, "You want me to take first watch?"
"There is no need to watch. These lands are peaceful."
"Cool." I settled down, my arm pillowing my head. "Wake me for breakfast."
I had escaped nightmares the night before. The night before that had been a replay of every battle that this section of land had ever faced, including the ambush and loss of the Ring. Again. So I expected nightmares.
And I got them in brilliant fucking technicolour.
I saw the land bathed in blood and darkness. Armies marched relentlessly, taking the people and driving them in front. Cannon fodder. I felt sickened as those who tried to fight ended up killing those they would protect. And still more battalions of orcs marched on. Wave after wave, killing and raping. Burning the fields and hacking down the trees. At one moment, trees fought back. But not enough. Never enough.
And the land screamed its pain through me, erupting out of this cancerous boil of evil.
The dark tower caught me, pain shivering out along my nerve ends as they applied hot tongs and more torturous implements to my mind and soul. I screamed, power shattering outwards, cracks dancing along the edge of the world wrapped in spider webs and processed cheese.
Mounds of lava caught my attention away from that, and I found myself skiing down a mountainside, my skis made of two ancient bones, the 'snow' a thick layer of ash. I glanced behind myself, to find a wave of lava flowing down on me. I dug in the poles and shoved off, the ash almost as slick as ice. Except for where rocks stuck out of it, I avoided them as best I could until one caught an edge of my left ski.
I went flying, flipping over and over to land in a marsh.
Mud and silt oozed into my clothes, coating me in a foul-smelling substance as I struggled to stand. The mere sucked me in deeper, until I was in it up to my neck. I tried to use telekinesis to free myself, but it was like walking into a brick wall. I couldn't move, could barely breathe for the stench choking me.
Scene change again. Now I was standing in grasslands, brittle green grass up to my knees. There were horses all around me, most not paying much attention. As I watched, it darkened towards evening. Night fell, stars brilliantly scattered across a cloudless sky. I noticed that the constellations appeared in a different configuration than where I was. South of me?
A horse roved into view, contentedly munching on cud.
I knew the horse. It was Alayna, her coat a silvery grey in the starlight. I wondered what colour it was in sunlight. Normally, she was a fairly bright green. We could occasionally disguise it, but it was hard. I usually just told people she was a freak of nature.
::Shut up and watch.::
Herds of horses traveled the plains. And then something arose, something passed them in the night, sending terror into their hearts. I watched as nine black riders came out of the East and scattered the herds on their way into the West. Evil and corruption tainted the land as they strove across it. I shivered, mind reeling at this evidence of evil.
Fate was always irritating, but chose well its tools.