Okay, so maybe it's not the best fic ever. But there's something about it
that calls out to me. "Alaina... come write me..." So I figure, what the
hell. I mean surely somebody out there might kind of sort of like it.
Reviewers:
KnowInsight: Thank you. I'm glad you find it interesting. And I did write more. It just took me a very long while.
Ionuin: You DID get to read the next chapter early, because that's how special you are. And yeah, because it's on loose leaf. Being sick and not being able to write! Oh the horror! Thunk. I broke my hipbone! Allan Tidgewell in a gauzy green dress! AIRPLANE! (Snort)
*
It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dark. Serin had left them no light, and if any windows were present in the room, they were heavily barred and curtained.
"What a cherry atmosphere," Elladan remarked. "'Tis just like home."
Elrohir shot him an unseen withering glance. "This is not the time for poor humour."
"We have nothing more to do," Estel muttered. "She barred the door."
"Then we sit," Elrohir said, apparently doing so. "And decide what must be done."
Estel took a step forward, smashing into something hard. "I cannot see. It is as black in here as a night without stars." He felt a hand on his arm, and fought not to jump. Elladan led him to a seat.
"Any suggestions dear, dear brother?" Elladan asked lazily.
"I propose that when she returns we take her weapons, and escape," Estel decreed.
"No," Elrohir said. "What she spoke of before is true. We would have no chance. I think she is our best hope; we must trust her."
"And where would we go?" Elladan questioned. "We are no longer in our world, or had you not yet noticed? As far as I can tell, the only way back is through that room we were in before. I do not believe we will pass through there unnoticed."
"So we are to sit here and wait?"
"It would seem so, as there is hardly an abundance of other options."
"Why does he wish to know who we are?" Estel asked suddenly.
"Who can say? But we must not tell him. It cannot fare well for any of us," Elrohir said.
Estel was about to speak again, but was interrupted by the loud clatter of heavy boots coming down the stairs. Lighter steps followed them, and then Serin's voice drifted through the walls. Even muffled, it was clear she was panicked.
"Stop it!" she screamed. "Don't you dare touch him." The first footsteps stopped, followed by deep mumblings. Estel couldn't catch the words, but it was evident that the twins could. There was a cry of, "Bastard!" and then quick footsteps and a thud, as though she had launched herself at the speaker and been thrown back against the wall.
The door to the room next to them slammed open. A light voice with a thick accent spoke, followed by the deeper one. There was a crash of something being dropped and the twins paled. The accented voice spoke again, his words far more clear.
"No. Please, no!"
He was begging for his life.
"Stop it!" Serin yelled again, her voice bordering on hysteria. "I'm ordering you, don't you dare lay a hand on him."
The deep voice began to laugh, a cold, hateful laugh that turned Estel's blood to ice. He spoke again; his words clear even to Estel.
"You are ordering ME? You, a little girl? You, with your irrational love of these story book characters? I think not. They're not even real."
Serin's reply was unnaturally clear. "He looks pretty damn real to me."
There was a resounding slapping sound, and Serin cried out. The third voice, all but forgotten, began berating harshly in another language. He was cut of suddenly, and the sounds of a struggle ensued.
Once again both Serin and the third voice began pleading. The sounds of the two men began to die away, leaving Serin alone.
All was quiet for a moment, and then the door opened, flooding the room with light. Serin stood there, holding a box. There were tears flowing from her eyes and her lip was bleeding slightly. Her left cheek was rapidly turning red and her hair was messed up. She stared at them in confusion for a moment, and then realization dawned on her face. She reached over and flicked a switch, adding more light. She entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind her.
"I brought stuff," she said, apparently having a hard time speaking. "For your cuts and stuff."
"They hit you as well?" Elladan asked, frowning.
Serin shrugged. "It's not the worst that's happened. They didn't kill ME." She bit her lip.
"And they killed that other man?"
"Do you know what he said to me, just as that... just as he was dragged away? ''Give them my love and sorrow.' That's all he wished for. A good bye to his family and lovers. And I can't even grant him that." She closed her eyes. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."
"What is this?" Estel demanded. "Why are we here, and why are they doing this?"
Serin took a deep breath, taking out the bandages. "Kellan-that's the man who did all this- discovered a way to bring book characters to life. Or, rather, connect to their worlds. That's what you are to us. Fictional characters from a story. It started out simply, just fairy tales. He didn't think it would hurt anything. Why should it? They weren't real. But something in him changed, and he began trying to take over these worlds. By the time he realized they were real, he didn't care."
"Are you a prisoner here as well, then?" Elrohir asked.
She laughed coldly. "You could say that. He's my father."
They stared at her.
"You must stop him!" Estel cried.
"How?" she retorted.
"He would listen to his daughter," he continued, somewhat less emphatically.
"Would he really? Then why hasn't he? Don't you understand? This has being going on for years. He's gone mad. He started this for me, but now... I can't stop him. No one can."
The room grew silent, finally interrupted by an irritant beeping. Serin glanced at her wrist. "I have to go." She paused by the door. "Listen to me. You CANNOT tell him who you are. Tell him nothing. If you do, it will mean the end of everything. The end of your father, the end of your sister, the end of Imladris, the end of Middle Earth."
"How-" Elrohir began.
"It doesn't matter. Just don't. Tell him. Anything."
She left, leaving them alone once more.
*
Elrond's eyes focused suddenly as he returned from the dream world. Something was troubling him, although he knew not what. He left his study, deciding a walk would help to calm his nerves.
Out in the garden he saw a familiar blond head. "Glorfindel?"
The blond turned, smiling. "Yes, my lord?"
"Have Elladan and Elrohir yet returned from the Trollshaws, with Estel?"
"No, my lord."
Elrond's forehead creased into a frown. "They were expected this morning."
"Would not worry," Glorfindel assured him. "After all, 'tis the twins we are speaking of. In all probability, they merely lost track of the days." Glorfindel grinned. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to excuse me, I believe I saw a beautiful young elleth on the other side of those trees."
Returning the grin, Elrond nodded, trying to disperse the horrible image of Elrohir with a poker scarring his face.
Reviewers:
KnowInsight: Thank you. I'm glad you find it interesting. And I did write more. It just took me a very long while.
Ionuin: You DID get to read the next chapter early, because that's how special you are. And yeah, because it's on loose leaf. Being sick and not being able to write! Oh the horror! Thunk. I broke my hipbone! Allan Tidgewell in a gauzy green dress! AIRPLANE! (Snort)
*
It took a moment for their eyes to adjust to the dark. Serin had left them no light, and if any windows were present in the room, they were heavily barred and curtained.
"What a cherry atmosphere," Elladan remarked. "'Tis just like home."
Elrohir shot him an unseen withering glance. "This is not the time for poor humour."
"We have nothing more to do," Estel muttered. "She barred the door."
"Then we sit," Elrohir said, apparently doing so. "And decide what must be done."
Estel took a step forward, smashing into something hard. "I cannot see. It is as black in here as a night without stars." He felt a hand on his arm, and fought not to jump. Elladan led him to a seat.
"Any suggestions dear, dear brother?" Elladan asked lazily.
"I propose that when she returns we take her weapons, and escape," Estel decreed.
"No," Elrohir said. "What she spoke of before is true. We would have no chance. I think she is our best hope; we must trust her."
"And where would we go?" Elladan questioned. "We are no longer in our world, or had you not yet noticed? As far as I can tell, the only way back is through that room we were in before. I do not believe we will pass through there unnoticed."
"So we are to sit here and wait?"
"It would seem so, as there is hardly an abundance of other options."
"Why does he wish to know who we are?" Estel asked suddenly.
"Who can say? But we must not tell him. It cannot fare well for any of us," Elrohir said.
Estel was about to speak again, but was interrupted by the loud clatter of heavy boots coming down the stairs. Lighter steps followed them, and then Serin's voice drifted through the walls. Even muffled, it was clear she was panicked.
"Stop it!" she screamed. "Don't you dare touch him." The first footsteps stopped, followed by deep mumblings. Estel couldn't catch the words, but it was evident that the twins could. There was a cry of, "Bastard!" and then quick footsteps and a thud, as though she had launched herself at the speaker and been thrown back against the wall.
The door to the room next to them slammed open. A light voice with a thick accent spoke, followed by the deeper one. There was a crash of something being dropped and the twins paled. The accented voice spoke again, his words far more clear.
"No. Please, no!"
He was begging for his life.
"Stop it!" Serin yelled again, her voice bordering on hysteria. "I'm ordering you, don't you dare lay a hand on him."
The deep voice began to laugh, a cold, hateful laugh that turned Estel's blood to ice. He spoke again; his words clear even to Estel.
"You are ordering ME? You, a little girl? You, with your irrational love of these story book characters? I think not. They're not even real."
Serin's reply was unnaturally clear. "He looks pretty damn real to me."
There was a resounding slapping sound, and Serin cried out. The third voice, all but forgotten, began berating harshly in another language. He was cut of suddenly, and the sounds of a struggle ensued.
Once again both Serin and the third voice began pleading. The sounds of the two men began to die away, leaving Serin alone.
All was quiet for a moment, and then the door opened, flooding the room with light. Serin stood there, holding a box. There were tears flowing from her eyes and her lip was bleeding slightly. Her left cheek was rapidly turning red and her hair was messed up. She stared at them in confusion for a moment, and then realization dawned on her face. She reached over and flicked a switch, adding more light. She entered the room quietly, shutting the door behind her.
"I brought stuff," she said, apparently having a hard time speaking. "For your cuts and stuff."
"They hit you as well?" Elladan asked, frowning.
Serin shrugged. "It's not the worst that's happened. They didn't kill ME." She bit her lip.
"And they killed that other man?"
"Do you know what he said to me, just as that... just as he was dragged away? ''Give them my love and sorrow.' That's all he wished for. A good bye to his family and lovers. And I can't even grant him that." She closed her eyes. "It wasn't supposed to be like this."
"What is this?" Estel demanded. "Why are we here, and why are they doing this?"
Serin took a deep breath, taking out the bandages. "Kellan-that's the man who did all this- discovered a way to bring book characters to life. Or, rather, connect to their worlds. That's what you are to us. Fictional characters from a story. It started out simply, just fairy tales. He didn't think it would hurt anything. Why should it? They weren't real. But something in him changed, and he began trying to take over these worlds. By the time he realized they were real, he didn't care."
"Are you a prisoner here as well, then?" Elrohir asked.
She laughed coldly. "You could say that. He's my father."
They stared at her.
"You must stop him!" Estel cried.
"How?" she retorted.
"He would listen to his daughter," he continued, somewhat less emphatically.
"Would he really? Then why hasn't he? Don't you understand? This has being going on for years. He's gone mad. He started this for me, but now... I can't stop him. No one can."
The room grew silent, finally interrupted by an irritant beeping. Serin glanced at her wrist. "I have to go." She paused by the door. "Listen to me. You CANNOT tell him who you are. Tell him nothing. If you do, it will mean the end of everything. The end of your father, the end of your sister, the end of Imladris, the end of Middle Earth."
"How-" Elrohir began.
"It doesn't matter. Just don't. Tell him. Anything."
She left, leaving them alone once more.
*
Elrond's eyes focused suddenly as he returned from the dream world. Something was troubling him, although he knew not what. He left his study, deciding a walk would help to calm his nerves.
Out in the garden he saw a familiar blond head. "Glorfindel?"
The blond turned, smiling. "Yes, my lord?"
"Have Elladan and Elrohir yet returned from the Trollshaws, with Estel?"
"No, my lord."
Elrond's forehead creased into a frown. "They were expected this morning."
"Would not worry," Glorfindel assured him. "After all, 'tis the twins we are speaking of. In all probability, they merely lost track of the days." Glorfindel grinned. "Now, if you'd be so kind as to excuse me, I believe I saw a beautiful young elleth on the other side of those trees."
Returning the grin, Elrond nodded, trying to disperse the horrible image of Elrohir with a poker scarring his face.