What You See…

SNOW DAY AGAIN!!!!!!!!! I'M SO SO SO SO SO HAPPY!!!! NOW, IT'S A FOUR DAY WEEKEND!!!!! YAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Disclaimer: I don't own LOTR, obviously.

* * * * * * = change in point of views

italics = thoughts or to emphasize a word

Chapter Eight: First Impressions

* * * * * * * * * * * Legolas's POV * * * * * * * * * * *

We arrived back at the underground palace of Mirkwood as the sun was beginning to set. The horses were covered with sweat, looking very weary. Everyone riding the horses looked about the same. We had ridden as fast as we could. Even as we had ridden, the strange, silver-haired girl had begun to fade, her body burning hotly against mine. "Rub them down, and see to their needs." I instructed several stablehands. "Make sure they don't catch a chill." The stablehands bowed and rushed off to tend our horses. A look of concern was on Aragorn's face. He might try to hide it, but he had a soft heart. I knew that he was wondering how a young lady could get in such a situation. I knew I was.

"Do not worry, Estel," I spoke reassuringly, calling him by his childhood name. "Your father is the best of healers."

He nodded in reply but said nothing. I heaved the unconscious girl off the horse and staggered. She was certainly not as light as a feather, though she was not overweight. She was lithe in body and figure, and beneath the many injuries, there was a look of innocence upon her face. I winced slightly as I looked down at her. No one deserved to be treated like that. She looked like she had been beaten, and very badly at that from the amount of bruises that dotted her body. For a moment, I felt a surge of anger as I thought about the man who might have done this to her. Then I wondered at myself, at why I felt such emotion on this girl's behalf. I had never even met her! She was a complete and total stranger, maybe even a spy.

I looked around and saw similar emotions on the faces of many other elves that had accompanied me and on that of Aragorn. Protectiveness, I thought wryly. The same protective feelings that all males show towards females when they are hurt or in danger. Most males did not see this, but I had lived long enough to realize it. With me carrying the young woman, we entered the palace through one of its many side entrances. I called on one of the messengers, bidding him to carry a message to Lord Elrond of Rivendell with the utmost haste. "Tell him that we found an injured young woman during our orc hunt and that she is fading quickly. Please tell him that I bid him to come to the rooms of healing as quickly as possible, or we may lose her." I told the messenger. He nodded, then sped off.

To my surprise, Aragorn followed. "I shall make sure that my father comes quickly," he called back to me as he rushed after the messenger. The elves who had come on the orc hunt began making their way towards the dining hall, though a few stayed with me. I began to walk towards the chambers used for healing. The young woman on in my arms groaned and stirred a bit as I turned a corner strode quickly down the empty hall where the rooms of healing lay. I slowed my pace as we reached the doors to one of the rooms. One of the elves that had come along opened it, and I entered.

The room was clean and tidy, with a canopied bed in the center. It was adequately, if not ornately, furnished and did not look like it had not been used for a long time. We always kept the rooms of healing new and spotless, just in case someone was severely wounded, which was just the case now. I placed young woman on the bed as the others lit torches and candles all around the room, illuminating it. We checked the rest of the accommodations to make sure that everything was usable. Servants brought hot water, cloths, and the rest of the things needed for healing. Lord Elrond, accompanied by my father, Aragorn, and the messenger arrived only a moment later. I almost groaned aloud as I saw that my elder brother Tándir was also with them. Things were not going well between us these days. He seemed to think me inferior to him and not experienced enough to traverse through Mirkwood, leading the orc-hunting party. I had proved my skills in weaponry many times, but he still seemed to see me as but a child. Our little conflicts had been becoming more explosive nowadays. He was always provoking me, trying to make me lose my temper and go into a fit of blind rage that would immediately label me as child. Others were beginning to notice the mounting tension between my brother and me as well, though, and often calmed us or separated us when things began to get ugly. I knew that one day we would have to settle this though. Avoiding each other temporarily did not seem to be working.

Though I did suppress the groan, Tándir caught the expression on my face and smirked, seeing an opening for another verbal attack. "Not pleased to see me, Brother?" he asked silkily.

"Of course not, Tándir," I said, assuming an expression of innocence. Two could play at this game. "Whatever gave you that idea?" His face remained emotionless, and he did not reply, for the others in the room, very much aware of the rising conflict between us, were beginning to send us glances.

Lord Elrond had been examining the young woman's wounds. He had asked no questions yet, though I knew they would be coming soon. He let out a small exclamation as he touched her forehead. "She is burning up with fever, and not a completely natural one at that!" He spoke in the Common, or Westron, so that those servants and healers who could not understand the Elven language would know what he said.

"When we found her, she had been struck by an orc arrow, probably from the band that we slaughtered. I think the arrow was poisoned," I explained. I brought out the arrow, handing it to Lord Elrond.

He sniffed it delicately before saying, "Yes, you are right, Legolas. It is poisoned. Luckily, though it is not a very rare type of poison, which does not surprise me." He put the arrow aside. "I would be surprised if any band of orcs roaming around Mirkwood Forest poisoned all their arrows with unknown, lethal poisons," he added wryly. "Any place of healing would have the antidote." He summoned one of the lesser healers that were standing near the doorway, bidding her to fetch the plant that was the antidote as quickly as possible. He continued examining the girl.

"Legolas, my son, who is this young woman? How did you come upon her?" my father, who had been watching the whole scene being played out before him the whole time, asked.

"I do not know who she is or where she comes from, Ada," I replied. "I must say, though, that I have never seen clothes such as those she wears. Made out of such a strange material too!" Then I quickly related the story of how we had found her, also adding in that our orc hunt had been successful. My father appeared rather mistrustful of a strange human girl suddenly appearing in Mirkwood but said nothing. 

He became slightly more cheerful when I told him that we had slaughtered the band of orcs, though, saying, "Good! That was the last group we know of for now. You will not have rise with another gloomy expression on your face tomorrow, Legolas!" I opened my mouth to protest that I did not mind hunting down orcs, which was a complete lie, but my father interrupted me. "Oh, you can't hide it from me, my son! I see the expression on your faces when you are told that you must go orc-hunting again." I flushed in shame. My father put a comforting hand on my shoulder. "Do not be ashamed. No living being, Elf or Man can go on hunting orcs for such a long time without becoming weary of the task."

I smiled softly and said, "Thank you, Ada."

"Nothing to it, my son," he replied, looking a bit embarrassed. He turned. "So, how is she?" he asked, addressing Lord Elrond.

He frowned a bit as he replied. "She is severely wounded. In fact, her wounds are much more serious than the poison. She had lost much blood, but as long as she receives the proper treatment, she should be fine. Most of the bruises on her body are old, as if they have been there for a long time and are not a problem. But," he continued, his frown deepening, "she did not gain them by falling down or any type of natural injury. I would say that perhaps the orcs did it, but these bruises do not look like it, and orcs normally just kill their prey. No, they were made by a male's hand, though I would be shocked to see any male act in such a manner."

At this, a gasp rose from many in the room. The female healers and servants looked shocked. The males all had looks of anger on their faces. Who could have done this? What male would lay his hands on a woman in such a manner? What kind of male would beat a woman? What could have been the reason for this atrocity? These thoughts were racing through my anger-clouded mind, and I could see them mirrored on other's faces. I, personally, did not know of anyone who would even think of acting this way. And we had found her in the borders of Mirkwood. Had one of our own committed this heinous crime? My blood chilled at the very thought.

Lord Elrond continued briskly, though I could tell that he was disturbed as well, not giving the time for a flurry of questions to break out. "She has a few minor cuts that can be taken care of quickly, but I'm worried about this long gash on her leg. It is very deep and may have already become infected. It will need to be cleaned and dressed. Her arm has suffered a very bad break. I will need to set it immediately or else it will not heal in the right manner." He stopped, looking around the room. No one moved. "Well?" he asked. "We must start." At those words, everyone seemed to break out of their trances. A whirl of activity started, with the healers setting everything up for the long process of healing as everyone else was ushered gently but firmly out into the corridor.

Some began leaving, my father being one of the first, saying that he had to attend to other matters. Those who had helped me bring the young woman to this room went next, telling me to inform them when her condition changed. Finally, Aragorn, Tándir, and I exited the room. "Ugly little thing, isn't she?"  Tándir remarked. "I mean, with those bruises and all. The only thing remarkable about her seems to be her hair color!"

My fists clenched at my sides as I fought down anger at my brother's insensitivity and arrogance. "She was wounded; it is through no fault of hers that she looks that way. She did not choose to be in the situation she was found under. Appearances are not everything, my brother."

"I guess you would know, Legolas," Tándir said with a small sneer. "After all, you don't keep up your appearances, do you? At this rate, no she-Elf will ever fall in love with you!"

Keeping my temper in check, I replied calmly, "Is that all you ever think about, Tándir? Females and looks?" And before he could reply with some other stinging comment, I said, "You had better go, Brother. Or have you forgotten that it's your turn to watch the twins today? And I truly wish you luck," a mischievous grin formed on my face, "though I would not want to be in your position. Let's hope they do not decide that their dear older brother Tánny's (their rule for nicknames: two syllables and ends in something sounding like eee) hair has grown quite dull and that a new hairstyle is in order." Tándir scowled at me, stalking away down the hall without another word. Aragorn let out a chuckle, saying, "Legolas, you provoke your brother just as much as he provokes you!"

"What? It's true!" I said innocently. "And besides, he started it."

Aragorn shook his head, still grinning, "You sound like your dear twin sisters when you say that." A rumbling noise filled the air. I laughed. Aragorn looked a little embarrassed but then said firmly, "Well, I'm going to the dining hall to eat because unlike you, I'm not an Elf and need more food." He began walking down the corridor, pushing me along. I let him push me, chuckling over both my small victory with Tándir and Aragorn. Thoughts of the silver-haired girl struck me, but I pushed them away, knowing that I could do nothing. So, laughing and joking, Aragorn and I made our way down to the dining hall.

* * * * * * * Gandalf (third person POV) * * * * * * *

He had felt it.

Magic, raw and powerful.

Loose and uncontrolled.

He had stopped in the middle of talking to an elf at Rivendell so abrubtly that the elf had been startled.

Wild. So powerful! For a moment, he reveled in the feeling of such power. Yes, his mind whispered in ecstasy, this is the very soul of magic! But then the feeling had gone, leaving him empty and cold. The magic had been cut off, stopped as suddenly as he had ceased talking to the elf who was standing by him very nervously.

He came back to himself. That magic had been too powerful. No wizard on Middle Earth that he knew, and he knew them all, had this kind of power. And if there had been a meeting of all the wizards scheduled, he would have been informed of it. He frowned, wondering what it could have been, who could have had such power. Sauron… his mind hissed. No, it couldn't have been. Sauron was still weak, defeated. Besides, evil had not been interlaced in that magic; he would have felt it. The magic had felt neither good nor evil but not neutral either. Power. Yes, that was the perfect word to describe it.

"Gandalf, sir?" the elf standing at his side asked nervously.

"What?" he snapped out of his musings.

"Well, I just said that Lord Elrond is currently in Mirkwood conducting negotiations with King Thranduil."

"Ah… I see. Mirkwood. About time as well. Thank you for telling me so. I shall head out for Mirkwood at once." Gandalf said.

"Are you sure you don't want to stay the night, sir?" the elf asked politely.

"Yes, yes, quite sure." He had good reason to make haste for Mirkwood. That was where he had felt the magic emanating from. 

Yes, he would be riding for Mirkwood as quickly as possible.

* * * * * * * * * * * * Aria's POV * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

Ouch. My first thought. How wonderfully wonderful. My arm hurt. I could feel that it had been set, but it still hurt, though it was not the white hot knives or angry, piercing flames. More like a dull, pounding ache. I lay there for a while, thinking about how relaxed I felt, how nothing hurt anymore, excluding my arm, and how stress-free I felt. I snuggled more deeply under soft, cotton-like covers, my head resting on what felt like a goose-feather pillow. A seemingly silk nightgown clung to my body. Aaah… this was bliss.

Wait a second. Cotton covers? Goose-feather pillows? Silk nightgowns? What the hell? I fought the urge to jump up and demand what was going on. I remembered to pretend to be asleep, in case anyone was here. Where here?my mind screamed at me. That was a very good question. Vivid images of the last thing that had happened flashed through my mind.

Falling, the spiders, the hours, or so I assumed, of walking.

Me, spotting other people.

Me, yelling and waving at them. I mentally groaned. That stupid, stupid, stupid action had probably caused what had happened next.

An arrow protruding from my shoulder.

Blackness.

I supposed that I probably passed out after that. Johnny… I put up a wall against that thought. If I let myself think about it, I would fall into the deep hole of worry and guilt from which I would not come out of very quickly. I came back to the present, stretching out my senses again as I had done in the forest. Once again, nothing. Only the bed under me, the smell of clean sheets. I heard no one breathing or making any noise otherwise. No bright sunlight piercing my eyelids but no complete darkness either. Slowly, I opened my eyes. I was in some kind of room with torches and candles all around. Who uses torches or candles these days? I wondered. Hello, there's a little something called electricity! Then again, I had been attacked by mutant spiders and had wandered around in a forest for a couple of hours, so maybe this wasn't so unusual. Maybe the power's down or this is a really poor family or something, I mused. 

I wondered what day it was, what time it was. There were just about a million questions buzzing around in my head right now. I sat up slowly and silently to get a better view of the room, leaning my back against the back of the bed. I noticed that my hair was still in a messy braid, still full of twigs and leaves. After waiting for the black spots before my eyes to recede, I turned my upper body around to examine the room.

I bit my lip so hard that it began to bleed, causing a metallic taste to fill my mouth, and tried very, very hard not to scream, which took me quite a while.

Legolas Greenleaf, sitting in a chair, with his eyes wide open and staring right at me, was right beside my bed.

Now, I would like to mention that while I am almost a Lord of the Rings obsessee, I was not a Legolas one, which I knew many people were. So, unlike any normal Legolas fangirl, I did not promptly hurl myself on top of him with a wild cry of "Leggy!" and a few hugs and kisses and start babbling incoherently.

No, instead of that, I just kind of froze and stared while my mind did somersaults. Here's a little view of what was happening: Legolas! I'm in Middle Earth! YAY!!!

No, you're not in Middle Earth and that is not Legolas Greenleaf.

But, but—

No.

Fine, be the big party pooper. Ok, if it's not Legolas and I'm not in Middle Earth, then it's Orlando Bloom and he rescued me and I'm in the neighborhood where the forest was.

Right, and your so-called rescuer just happened to be Orlando Bloom, a famous movie star who just happens to be in Massachusetts and just happens to be in this neighborhood instead of working on some movie or another in Hollywood. And he also just happens to be dressed up like Legolas from Lord of the Rings which finished filming three years ago. You've got to be kidding me.

You're mean. Fine, if it's not Orlando Bloom, then it is someone dressed up as Legolas.

And pray tell me, why would someone do that?

I don't know. Probably some big practical joke.

Now you're thinking logically.

Right, so this is some guy paid to dress up as Legolas Greenleaf because my friends are playing a big practical joke on me and I just happened to be wandering in a forest getting attacked by a gigantic spider.

Uh… maybe? Ok, we need some backup here.

And so I arrived at the stunning conclusion that I had no clue who this dude was. I know, my brilliance astounds me too.

Well, he was staring at me, and I was staring at him. He didn't move, talk, or do anything. Finally becoming free of being an ice cube, I crawled a little closer to him and looked into his eyes. They were blank; there was nothing in them.

Great, he was dead. I was staring at a dead person. I shuddered, then began to panic. Then again, if I were in Middle Earth, he would be in an elven sleeping trance…

Don't even think about it.

Then I noticed that his chest was moving up and down. Relief seeped through me like honey seeping into bread. He, whoever he was, was alive. I examined him for a moment. Long, golden-blonde hair with braids. High, defined cheekbones. A face an artist would weep over. Soft, sensual lips, made for kissing. Strong, determined jaw. Pale, smooth skin. He was wearing some a forest green shirt that displayed lean, hard muscle. His legs looked very long (as far as I could tell since he was sitting) and finely muscled as well. He was wearing soft, green shoes. Dear god, this guy was HOT! But the eyes were really getting to me. Deep blue, blank, lifeless. I shuddered. What was wrong with this dude if he wasn't dead?

My gaze strayed to his ears. They were pointy. I bit back an exclamation of surprise. Pointed ear tips. Just like an elf. At this point, I probably should've just stood up and escaped whatever place this was while no one was guarding me. But I didn't. My curiosity got the better of me. I moved closer to him, examining his ears. I reached out a hand to touch them, see if they were real. Curiosity killed the cat, my mind reprimanded me sternly. But I'm not a cat, I argued against the sensible, reasonable part of my mind. Puny comeback, but hey.

My finger traced the air above his right ear. I moved my fingers up to the pointed tip, longing to touch it, but not daring too for fear of waking him up. I felt a surge of anger suddenly. This was a really annoying practical joke. My mouth settled in a grim line. If this was a joke, might as well end it now. I settled myself in front of him, raising both hands. My left arm was in some sort of strange cast-thingie which I did not recognize. Then, before I could lose my nerve, I pulled the tips of his ears as hard as I could. 

* * * * * * * * * * Elrond (third person POV) * * * * * * * * *

Lord Elrond was troubled.

He had retired to his room shortly after the process of healing, declining both food and drink. He had enough food and drink in his thoughts to last him for a long time.

He should have foreseen the coming of the girl. She had aroused the curiosity of so many, had intrigued so many. His gift of foresight should have told of her coming, as it did all events that affected many. Does this mean that she is not important? he wondered. Or is my foresight failing me? What is the meaning of her coming? Legolas had said that they had found her in the forest. No one wandered around by themselves in the forest of Mirkwood these days, especially not women. Even trained warriors did not traverse the dangers of Mirkwood by themselves.

And she was strange. Perhaps her nature, her personality was not strange, but her appearances certainly were. Silver hair. Never, in all his years of life, could Lord Elrond remember seeing someone, anyone with silver hair.

And her wounds. He had never seen such wounds on a female, not even those who had been in battle. She had had bruises everywhere and had evidently been beaten. But in Mirkwood? By who? Questions, questions which he did not know the answer to plagued him.

Yes, Lord Elrond was troubled. That night, he stayed awake in his quarters and brooded over the thousand different questions rushing through his mind.

* * * * * * * * * * * * Aria * * * * * * * * * * *

The ear tips did not come off. Uh-oh.

The guy's eyes suddenly came to life. He jumped out of my grasp with a yelp, knocking over the chair in the process. I fell backwards onto the bed, then sat up quickly. The guy was rubbing the tips of his ears. I guess they weren't fake after all. But that would mean—that would mean—I would be in—He would be—He would be an elf! He would actually be Legolas! I'm in Middle Earth! I thought happily. Hallelujah! Then I remembered that there was no such thing as Middle Earth and that what I was saying was virtually impossible. But there was no other option! God, I swear this is something straight off fanfiction.net. I didn't know what to think. But I would worry about that later.

I noticed the guy was staring at me. I must've looked quite a sight, sitting there in a nightgown, with stuff sticking out of my hair, I who had just tried to pull his ears off. That was not good. He was still staring at me. "Uh…" I said, or more like croaked. My voice was raspy. I coughed, trying to clear my throat. A glass of water appeared in front of my face. I looked up. The guy was offering me a glass of water. Damn, he was cute! The blue eyes were no longer blank, now they looked mystified. But they were such a color of blue! Like the peace of the sky, the crashing waves of the ocean. And I was drowning in those waves of endless blue. I pulled myself out, swam to shore with some difficulty and tried not to blush. Instead I hastily gulped the water. It was sweet, cool, and clear. Water is now my best friend. I never knew it could taste so good. "Thanks," I said. "And I'm really sorry for pulling your ears, but you see, I thought you weren't an—" I broke off. The guy was staring at me again. I recognized the look on his face. It was one of utter confusion. Realization dawned on me. He couldn't understand a word I was saying.

He spoke. A language that reminded me of all the good things in life, flowers, green grass, peace came out of his mouth. Now it was my turn to stare at him in confusion. What language was that? It was so beautiful… Wait, I reminded myself, if I'm in Middle Earth, then he's probably talking elvish. I shook my head to say that I didn't understand. He didn't look surprised. He began speaking in a different language. I didn't get that one either. I felt really stupid as he began changing languages while I just shook my head. I tried a few languages of my own, Spanish, which I was learning in school, French, which was the first language I had learned, greetings in every single language I had ever heard, from hola to ni hao. He didn't get any of them.

Both he and I ran out of languages soon and just stood or in my case, sat, in silence. He was tall, over six feet would be my guess. And extremely cute, in fact. Damn, why couldn't I get over that fact? The girls at school would die to get their hands on him, I thought. I decided not to try to figure out who exactly he was now. The silence was broken as he, with a frown marring his perfect face, said something and then walked out of the room.

Great, now I was alone. Not knowing what to do, I just sat there for a while. I felt extremely sticky and sweaty. When was the last time I had a bath? I wondered. How long have I been unconscious? I looked around the room, which was very nicely furnished, with tables, chairs, etc, and spotted a little side chamber on the wall to my right. A bathroom! I thought joyously. I made my way over to it and peered in. I was half right. It was a small chamber, sort of like a bathroom, but with no toilet. There was, however, a large, steaming tub full of water in the center of it. Towels, soap, and some things that I didn't recognize was on a small table next to it. Guess they've been expecting me to wake up, I thought, if this is for me. I had no clue. Oh well, I was feeling too dirty to care anyway. I was going to assume that it was for me.

But, before clambering into the tub, I went to the main room, closed the door leading to a hallway and shoved a table in front of it when I found no lock. Shoving the table worked me up into a sweat, since I was still weak from my wounds which didn't feel painful right now. I made a mental note to self to check on them later. It was also a bit awkward moving things with a broken arm, though, thankfully, it didn't really hurt that much. With that done, I made my way to the tub which was deliciously nice and hot, and managed, after a few minutes to get the nightgown off. Then, with a grateful sigh, I sank into it, keeping the broken arm out. I'd never broken anything before, so I didn't know if it was supposed to get wet. I'm in heaven, I thought blissfully, I've died and gone to heaven, that's it. Or maybe this is all a dream. I ruled that idea out quickly; I wouldn't have a broken arm that actually hurt in a dream. Maybe I'm insane. Maybe I'm raving mad in an asylum right now. I would consider the possibilities later. All I knew right now was that all was right and good with the world.

I stood up, naked and dripping, and got out of the tub to go get some soap. I fetched a few bars of some nice, but strange, smelling soap and a little glass container full of rose petals that I found on the table. I felt like a princess right now. Nice, hot bath and rose petals. I sprinkled a few into the water, which was still rather clean, to my delight, set both the soap and glass container down, and undid my hair. I didn't want to think about how long it was going to take to get all the tangles out. I began stepping back into the tub, with my stuff-filled hair falling down my back. But I suddenly slipped in a spot of water. Instinctively, I tried to gain my balance again but fell forward. I let out a shriek as I fell into the tub, splashing water everywhere, and scattering all of the rose petals into the tub, turning the water into a sea of red.

I heard a great boom and thud as I sat up in the tub, sputtering, and pushing my hair out of my face. What met my eyes was not to my liking. There, in the entrance of the small chamber stood a man. He looked frozen in shock, staring at me, and I stared back. I seemed to be doing a lot of staring today. He looked like a younger version of Aragorn! Brown, wavy hair. Dark, gray eyes. Muscular build. Wearing strange clothes. He was pretty cute too. It seemed that he had broken down the door to get in. That must have been what the thud was. But I was only on freeze mode for a second. Being acutely aware my nakedness, though I realized that all of the rose petals I had spilled was probably covering it but not caring, I grabbed whatever was nearest to me, which happened to be a bar of soap, and with a loud yell of "PERVERT!" threw it at him with all my strength. It hit where I had aimed, right in the family jewels. I did mention I was good at knife-throwing didn't I? So soap wasn't really a knife, but hey, same theory. I saw his face contort in pain as staggered out of the entrance to the chamber.

I sat in the tub, whose water was about one fourth of the way gone. I was in shock. Everything seemed to be catching up with me. I had no clue where I was, if I was dead or insane or who knows what else, there were LOTR look-a-likes everywhere, and, and—This isn't working, I thought, I'm officially going insane.

I tried to calm myself down. Assuming that I had somehow gotten into Middle Earth, and all the characters were here… well that wasn't good either.

That would mean that I had tried to pull an Elven prince's ears off and chucked soap at a future king.

Shit.

Don't I just make wonderful first impressions?

*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Done! This would've been longer, but I have no more time. It's late. Ok, so this was a crappy chapter, but o well. Oh, and in the last chappie, all that stuff about dragonlance belongs to Margaret weis and tracy hickman. Not to me. Questions: IF YOU IGNORE MY COMMENTS AT THE BEGINNING AND END OF THE STORY, HOW OLD WOULD YOU THINK MY WRITING SOUNDS LIKE? AND DOES ANYONE KNOW WHAT PEOPLE IN MIDDLE EARTH USE TO GO TO THE RESTROOM? AND ANY SUGGESTIONS ON WHAT TO HAPPEN NEXT? I HAVE A FEW IDEAS, BUT THEY'RE VAGUE. AND REVIEW PLEASE!!!

Lady of the Dark: u go to Harvard? Ur learning old English? Cool!

MiraiXenia18: thanx for answering my questions!

Finevere: Yes, I did. It was an excellent series. Luved vanyel!

The Majestic Moose: Yes, I love dragonlance! I have the book the soulforge but I haven't read it yet. Right now, I'm reading the war of souls trilogy. I'm on the second book but I can't figure out if mina's a bad person or good yet! My favorite characters is raistlin too! He's sooooooo cool! But I love tas! He's adorable!

And for who asked what flames are: they're basically reviews saying I hate your story. They don't give any constructive criticism and personally attack the author. Sorry, but I can't find the review that asked me this.