Disclaimer: Everyone in middle earth except Phoebe is the creation of the
genius that is J.R.R. Tolkein. Basically don't sue me because I don't own
them. Although I wouldn't object if someone gave me Legolas for Christmas!
;)
The new non-uniform policy at Redwood High had been received with mixed feelings. The rich, popular kids had loved the idea, as they always had a new fashionable outfit. It also gave them another way to make the others feel like crap every day. The others being those who wore pretty much the same clothes day in, day out. But for Phoebe Grant, it didn't really matter all that much. Her school uniform had been so personalised by her, that it looked like home clothes anyway. The teachers didn't say anything, which wasn't unusual, because the teachers never said anything. At least, not to the Riverside kids.
Riverside was the town's orphanage. The owners called it a foster home, but there were no foster parents so everyone else called it an orphanage. Or, to the people who lived there, the shithole.
The teachers felt sorry for them, and they had twigged to this on the first day. Most didn't do work, and some didn't turn up at all. Anything they did was ignored, which was fine by them.
Today Phoebe wore a long deep purple velvet skirt, a black tank top, and her usual combat boots, pentacle necklace and fingerless black lace gloves. When she walked into registration, most heads turned as she passed by. She flicked her short black-red hair out of her heavily eye-linered ice blue eyes to stare at the nervous looking blond girl who sat who sat behind the desk nearest the window at the back. She stopped, directly in front of the girl.
"That's my seat."
The girl's green eyes widened, and she twirled her hair nervously: "I didn't know we had set places."
Phoebe rolled her eyes, and pointed to a desk on the other side of the room: "Empty." She then pointed back down to the desk in front of her: "Taken."
The girl gathered her things and scuttled away to the empty desk. Phoebe slouched into her seat, pulled her CD Walkman out of her bag and slipped a new CD into it. Remy Zero started to play and she closed her eyes, vaguely aware of the teacher trying to take the register over the noise of the class.
She was suddenly aware of someone being way too close to her. She opened her eyes, and found herself nose to nose with Michael Francis. The most popular guy on her class, with a brain the size of a walnut and an ego Arnold Schwarzenegger would have trouble lifting.
Easily the most popular guy in the class, most of the girls would have done anything to go out with him. Unfortunately he was convinced all of them would. That included Phoebe.
"Hey Goth girl. Mind if I sit next to you?" she had to fight the urge to retch at his smug, self-assured smile.
Phoebe swung her DM's onto the seat beside her: "I'll give you two guesses, retard guy."
"I'm not a retard."
She raised an eyebrow: "Well I'm not a Goth, and one of us is wrong."
Michael stood there for a minute, looking utterly bewildered, before moving off to his adoring fans.
The track on the CD changed to 'Save Me' and she laughed at the irony.
Sarah turned around from the desk in front and cocked a pierced eyebrow.
Sarah Bradley was another person from Riverside. Pissed at the world, who had always told her she'd have a growth spurt, she had rebelled and become an ice-queen Goth. Sarah, who was five foot nothing in her New Rocks, was not someone to be messed with. She kept out of the sun, and then pasted paler all over her skin anyway. She had raven-black hair, which was short on one side of her face, then sloped down around her head and ended up near waist-length on the other side. She had too many piercings to mention, permanently black nails, lips and eyes; due to heavy eyeliner as well as the contact lenses she wore. She was *the* uber-bitch and could kick the ass of anyone stupid enough to piss her off.
Except Phoebe.
Sarah and Phoebe had become friends as soon as Sarah was placed in Riverside. That was almost thirteen years ago now, and they were more like sisters than friends.
Phoebe held out an earphone, and mouthed: 'Michael Francis was hitting on me.'
An expression of mock horror flashed across Sarah's features before she put the earphone in. She listened for a second before grinning widely, white teeth startling against their glossy black frame. She gave the earphone back and returned to her book: 'Tales of Terror and Destruction' by Edgar Allan Poe.
Phoebe pulled out 'Return Of The King' which, along with the other two books, she had read more times than she could count, and flicked through to her place.
She had only read a page before the bell rang, signalling the start of her least favourite lesson: biology.
***
The Riverside van pulled up outside Redwood High and waited as they piled in. Jessica Connor, an ex-Riverside kid, now worked for them and today she was driving.
"Hey Jess." Phoebe said, sliding onto the front bench seat. Sarah followed straight after and slammed the door behind her.
"Hi Pheebs, Sarah." She replied far too cheerily for Sarah, who simply nodded. Jessica, (with her model figure, perfect skin, waist length natural blond hair and never-ending energy) was loved by all the kids at Riverside. She acted like their big sister, all the girls (even Sarah though she was loathed to admit it) wanted to look like her, and all the guys wanted to date someone who looked like her.
Jess flicked on the radio, Sarah's eyes narrowed, and Phoebe hastily switched off the ultra poppy beats. The last thing she needed today was to be right in the centre of a yelling match.
Jess broke the uncomfortable silence between them: "Anything interesting happen today?"
"I got sent out of class" Sarah replied nonchalantly.
"Wow. A teacher finally had the spine to punish a Riverside kid. What did you do?"
"I refused to dissect a frog so she sent Sarah and me out of the room"
"Okay, you I get, but Sarah?" she turned to Sarah: "You're not even a vegetarian, why did you refuse?"
"I was bored," she said, a wicked smile creeping across her face.
"Uh-oh" Jess grinned: "What did you do afterwards?"
"Professor Frog-Killer's going to get a surprise when she gets to her car"
Jess decided she didn't want to know.
***
"See you later" Sarah whispered as she climbed out of the window.
"Bye" Phoebe whispered back. She waited a minute, to make sure Sarah was gone before sliding out of bed. She pulled her trunk out of her wardrobe and undid the padlock.
Sarah knew about her witchy dabblings, but she'd think Phoebe was stupid if she found out about this spell. Sarah's parents were dead, but no one knew about Phoebe's. She had been abandoned as a baby, but that was all anyone knew. She wanted to know. She sprinkled talc in a circle in the middle of the floor and placed five white candles on the circle, where the points of the pentagram would be if she had drawn one.
She lit the candles, sat in the centre of the circle and repeated the incantation:
Spirits of fire,
Light my way,
Find my family,
Find my kin.
Spirits of earth,
Show my path,
Find my family,
Find my kin.
Spirits of air,
Clear the skies,
Find my family,
Find my kin.
She paused for a moment, as the clouds moved, too fast, to uncover the moon. Weird. She carried on:
Spirits of water,
Wash away my fears,
Find my family,
Find my kin.
Thunder rumbled and the skies split. Rain poured down heavily. Unless she was really drunk already, Sarah would be coming back soon, to get out of the rain. She'd better tidy up.
The rain started to pour in through the open window so she rushed over to close it. She slammed the sash window down, and all the water on the sill splashed up at her, soaking right through her nightie: "Shit!"
She could see Sarah's silhouette across the lawn. She blew out the candles, rushed to her drawer and pulled off her soaked nightie. She scrambled around in the dark for a clean nightie: "Damnit!"- her hand slid across her razor and two of her fingers began to bleed. She wiped them with a tissue then threw it behind her.
Light immediately appeared: "What the.?"
She turned slowly to see the five candles burning bright. The circle began to spin on the floor, and Phoebe blinked, sure she was imagining it. She wasn't.
Invisible hands pushed her into the circle; the last thing she saw was a dripping wet Sarah staring through the window in shock.
***
"Merry. Pippin." Boromir called angrily. Where were they? "Have you taken my sword again?" There was no reply.
Sam and Frodo smirked as Boromir set off to look for the other hobbits. Why he was even asking, they didn't know. Who else would have taken it?
Boromir found Gandalf first, in a world of his own, muttering things under his breath whilst tapping the end of his pipe against his chin. Deciding it would be safer to leave the wizard alone, he carried on.
Now he'd found who he was looking for: Gimli was laughing loudly at Aragorn's attempts to teach Merry and Pippin to sword fight.
"Where's my sword?" he asked the hobbits menacingly. They froze.
"It wasn't us," Pippin said hastily.
Boromir stepped towards them and they instinctively stepped back.
"It's been taken and I know it was one of you," he growled.
They shook their heads violently.
"Boromir" Aragorn's worried tone caused them all to turn to him: "If they didn't take your sword, who did?"
***
Legolas sat by the side of the river, thinking in silence, eyes closed. A twig cracked, some twenty metres away and his blue eyes snapped open. He loaded his bow, and walked toward the sound, making no sound himself. What he saw next, confused him completely.
A girl stood there, shivering in the cold, wearing a bra, panties and fingerless black lace gloves. A pendant on a black leather thong hung around her neck; a silver star in a circle. And she appeared to be holding Boromir's sword.
He pointed his bow towards her and coughed gently. She spun around to face him, and he looked to the ground.
"What? You've never seen a girl in her underwear before? Look, this is as embarrassing for me as it is for you, so some clothes would help." She paused, to take a look at the arrow-toting guy in front of her. Completely hot. Ok, also completely not the time for those kinds of thoughts. And also: "Nice costume."
"Who are you?" he asked, eyes still firmly down.
"Buffy the vampire slayer. You?"
"Legolas of Mirkwood, son of Thranduil."
She snorted with laughter: "I get it. A kind of 'two can play at that game' thing? The costume's really good actually. And you *really* look like Orlando Bloom"
"Who is Orlando Bloom?"
"The guy who played Leggy-lou-lou in the movie."
"I don't understand."
"Good for you. Now, are you gonna help me with the clothes sitch or not?"
He stayed silent, obviously still not understanding.
"Whatever." She started to walk away, then stopped when she heard the bow creak.
"How exactly are you going to shoot me when you keep 'averting your innocent eyes'?"
There was a blur of movement as he fired and reloaded. The arrow passed less than an inch above her head and hit the tree behind her.
"Bloody hell" she murmured.
***
"Legolas!" Aragorn called. There was an intruder in their camp and he needed everyone accounted for. He had to be around here somewhere.
***
"You shouldn't be wearing that" costume-guy told her.
"Gee, ya-think? Well then, I'll just go home and change. No, wait.I can't! Some Tolkein-nut is holding me hostage and, oh yeah - I don't have a clue where I am!" she yelled. Taking a deep breath to calm herself she started again:
"If you could please just get me some clothes and help me get back to Redwood I'll be fine"
"Let go of your weapon first."
"No way! It's the only protection I have!"
This time he looked her straight in the eye.
She sighed. "And you're the only option I have."
She dropped the sword.
A/N: Please review. You know you want to! Please don't flame me (fire hurts and I'm only small!) I'll try to update soon (that's assuming you want me to) but I'm kinda bogged down in coursework at the mo, so it might be a while.
The new non-uniform policy at Redwood High had been received with mixed feelings. The rich, popular kids had loved the idea, as they always had a new fashionable outfit. It also gave them another way to make the others feel like crap every day. The others being those who wore pretty much the same clothes day in, day out. But for Phoebe Grant, it didn't really matter all that much. Her school uniform had been so personalised by her, that it looked like home clothes anyway. The teachers didn't say anything, which wasn't unusual, because the teachers never said anything. At least, not to the Riverside kids.
Riverside was the town's orphanage. The owners called it a foster home, but there were no foster parents so everyone else called it an orphanage. Or, to the people who lived there, the shithole.
The teachers felt sorry for them, and they had twigged to this on the first day. Most didn't do work, and some didn't turn up at all. Anything they did was ignored, which was fine by them.
Today Phoebe wore a long deep purple velvet skirt, a black tank top, and her usual combat boots, pentacle necklace and fingerless black lace gloves. When she walked into registration, most heads turned as she passed by. She flicked her short black-red hair out of her heavily eye-linered ice blue eyes to stare at the nervous looking blond girl who sat who sat behind the desk nearest the window at the back. She stopped, directly in front of the girl.
"That's my seat."
The girl's green eyes widened, and she twirled her hair nervously: "I didn't know we had set places."
Phoebe rolled her eyes, and pointed to a desk on the other side of the room: "Empty." She then pointed back down to the desk in front of her: "Taken."
The girl gathered her things and scuttled away to the empty desk. Phoebe slouched into her seat, pulled her CD Walkman out of her bag and slipped a new CD into it. Remy Zero started to play and she closed her eyes, vaguely aware of the teacher trying to take the register over the noise of the class.
She was suddenly aware of someone being way too close to her. She opened her eyes, and found herself nose to nose with Michael Francis. The most popular guy on her class, with a brain the size of a walnut and an ego Arnold Schwarzenegger would have trouble lifting.
Easily the most popular guy in the class, most of the girls would have done anything to go out with him. Unfortunately he was convinced all of them would. That included Phoebe.
"Hey Goth girl. Mind if I sit next to you?" she had to fight the urge to retch at his smug, self-assured smile.
Phoebe swung her DM's onto the seat beside her: "I'll give you two guesses, retard guy."
"I'm not a retard."
She raised an eyebrow: "Well I'm not a Goth, and one of us is wrong."
Michael stood there for a minute, looking utterly bewildered, before moving off to his adoring fans.
The track on the CD changed to 'Save Me' and she laughed at the irony.
Sarah turned around from the desk in front and cocked a pierced eyebrow.
Sarah Bradley was another person from Riverside. Pissed at the world, who had always told her she'd have a growth spurt, she had rebelled and become an ice-queen Goth. Sarah, who was five foot nothing in her New Rocks, was not someone to be messed with. She kept out of the sun, and then pasted paler all over her skin anyway. She had raven-black hair, which was short on one side of her face, then sloped down around her head and ended up near waist-length on the other side. She had too many piercings to mention, permanently black nails, lips and eyes; due to heavy eyeliner as well as the contact lenses she wore. She was *the* uber-bitch and could kick the ass of anyone stupid enough to piss her off.
Except Phoebe.
Sarah and Phoebe had become friends as soon as Sarah was placed in Riverside. That was almost thirteen years ago now, and they were more like sisters than friends.
Phoebe held out an earphone, and mouthed: 'Michael Francis was hitting on me.'
An expression of mock horror flashed across Sarah's features before she put the earphone in. She listened for a second before grinning widely, white teeth startling against their glossy black frame. She gave the earphone back and returned to her book: 'Tales of Terror and Destruction' by Edgar Allan Poe.
Phoebe pulled out 'Return Of The King' which, along with the other two books, she had read more times than she could count, and flicked through to her place.
She had only read a page before the bell rang, signalling the start of her least favourite lesson: biology.
***
The Riverside van pulled up outside Redwood High and waited as they piled in. Jessica Connor, an ex-Riverside kid, now worked for them and today she was driving.
"Hey Jess." Phoebe said, sliding onto the front bench seat. Sarah followed straight after and slammed the door behind her.
"Hi Pheebs, Sarah." She replied far too cheerily for Sarah, who simply nodded. Jessica, (with her model figure, perfect skin, waist length natural blond hair and never-ending energy) was loved by all the kids at Riverside. She acted like their big sister, all the girls (even Sarah though she was loathed to admit it) wanted to look like her, and all the guys wanted to date someone who looked like her.
Jess flicked on the radio, Sarah's eyes narrowed, and Phoebe hastily switched off the ultra poppy beats. The last thing she needed today was to be right in the centre of a yelling match.
Jess broke the uncomfortable silence between them: "Anything interesting happen today?"
"I got sent out of class" Sarah replied nonchalantly.
"Wow. A teacher finally had the spine to punish a Riverside kid. What did you do?"
"I refused to dissect a frog so she sent Sarah and me out of the room"
"Okay, you I get, but Sarah?" she turned to Sarah: "You're not even a vegetarian, why did you refuse?"
"I was bored," she said, a wicked smile creeping across her face.
"Uh-oh" Jess grinned: "What did you do afterwards?"
"Professor Frog-Killer's going to get a surprise when she gets to her car"
Jess decided she didn't want to know.
***
"See you later" Sarah whispered as she climbed out of the window.
"Bye" Phoebe whispered back. She waited a minute, to make sure Sarah was gone before sliding out of bed. She pulled her trunk out of her wardrobe and undid the padlock.
Sarah knew about her witchy dabblings, but she'd think Phoebe was stupid if she found out about this spell. Sarah's parents were dead, but no one knew about Phoebe's. She had been abandoned as a baby, but that was all anyone knew. She wanted to know. She sprinkled talc in a circle in the middle of the floor and placed five white candles on the circle, where the points of the pentagram would be if she had drawn one.
She lit the candles, sat in the centre of the circle and repeated the incantation:
Spirits of fire,
Light my way,
Find my family,
Find my kin.
Spirits of earth,
Show my path,
Find my family,
Find my kin.
Spirits of air,
Clear the skies,
Find my family,
Find my kin.
She paused for a moment, as the clouds moved, too fast, to uncover the moon. Weird. She carried on:
Spirits of water,
Wash away my fears,
Find my family,
Find my kin.
Thunder rumbled and the skies split. Rain poured down heavily. Unless she was really drunk already, Sarah would be coming back soon, to get out of the rain. She'd better tidy up.
The rain started to pour in through the open window so she rushed over to close it. She slammed the sash window down, and all the water on the sill splashed up at her, soaking right through her nightie: "Shit!"
She could see Sarah's silhouette across the lawn. She blew out the candles, rushed to her drawer and pulled off her soaked nightie. She scrambled around in the dark for a clean nightie: "Damnit!"- her hand slid across her razor and two of her fingers began to bleed. She wiped them with a tissue then threw it behind her.
Light immediately appeared: "What the.?"
She turned slowly to see the five candles burning bright. The circle began to spin on the floor, and Phoebe blinked, sure she was imagining it. She wasn't.
Invisible hands pushed her into the circle; the last thing she saw was a dripping wet Sarah staring through the window in shock.
***
"Merry. Pippin." Boromir called angrily. Where were they? "Have you taken my sword again?" There was no reply.
Sam and Frodo smirked as Boromir set off to look for the other hobbits. Why he was even asking, they didn't know. Who else would have taken it?
Boromir found Gandalf first, in a world of his own, muttering things under his breath whilst tapping the end of his pipe against his chin. Deciding it would be safer to leave the wizard alone, he carried on.
Now he'd found who he was looking for: Gimli was laughing loudly at Aragorn's attempts to teach Merry and Pippin to sword fight.
"Where's my sword?" he asked the hobbits menacingly. They froze.
"It wasn't us," Pippin said hastily.
Boromir stepped towards them and they instinctively stepped back.
"It's been taken and I know it was one of you," he growled.
They shook their heads violently.
"Boromir" Aragorn's worried tone caused them all to turn to him: "If they didn't take your sword, who did?"
***
Legolas sat by the side of the river, thinking in silence, eyes closed. A twig cracked, some twenty metres away and his blue eyes snapped open. He loaded his bow, and walked toward the sound, making no sound himself. What he saw next, confused him completely.
A girl stood there, shivering in the cold, wearing a bra, panties and fingerless black lace gloves. A pendant on a black leather thong hung around her neck; a silver star in a circle. And she appeared to be holding Boromir's sword.
He pointed his bow towards her and coughed gently. She spun around to face him, and he looked to the ground.
"What? You've never seen a girl in her underwear before? Look, this is as embarrassing for me as it is for you, so some clothes would help." She paused, to take a look at the arrow-toting guy in front of her. Completely hot. Ok, also completely not the time for those kinds of thoughts. And also: "Nice costume."
"Who are you?" he asked, eyes still firmly down.
"Buffy the vampire slayer. You?"
"Legolas of Mirkwood, son of Thranduil."
She snorted with laughter: "I get it. A kind of 'two can play at that game' thing? The costume's really good actually. And you *really* look like Orlando Bloom"
"Who is Orlando Bloom?"
"The guy who played Leggy-lou-lou in the movie."
"I don't understand."
"Good for you. Now, are you gonna help me with the clothes sitch or not?"
He stayed silent, obviously still not understanding.
"Whatever." She started to walk away, then stopped when she heard the bow creak.
"How exactly are you going to shoot me when you keep 'averting your innocent eyes'?"
There was a blur of movement as he fired and reloaded. The arrow passed less than an inch above her head and hit the tree behind her.
"Bloody hell" she murmured.
***
"Legolas!" Aragorn called. There was an intruder in their camp and he needed everyone accounted for. He had to be around here somewhere.
***
"You shouldn't be wearing that" costume-guy told her.
"Gee, ya-think? Well then, I'll just go home and change. No, wait.I can't! Some Tolkein-nut is holding me hostage and, oh yeah - I don't have a clue where I am!" she yelled. Taking a deep breath to calm herself she started again:
"If you could please just get me some clothes and help me get back to Redwood I'll be fine"
"Let go of your weapon first."
"No way! It's the only protection I have!"
This time he looked her straight in the eye.
She sighed. "And you're the only option I have."
She dropped the sword.
A/N: Please review. You know you want to! Please don't flame me (fire hurts and I'm only small!) I'll try to update soon (that's assuming you want me to) but I'm kinda bogged down in coursework at the mo, so it might be a while.