Dreamcast I: Become A Believer
Chapter 3: What Time Didn't Erase
Rating: R (for mild language, suggestive themes, some sexuality)
Summary: Rivers is thrown into Middle Earth in a freak car accident.
Somewhere between killing orcs, riding fell beasts, and snogging elves, she
realizes it's more than just a dream and living hell . . . because there is
no going back!
Feedback: nano_starr@metrodesic.com
Gandalf squinted at her, beady eyes striking her with a pang of humbleness. "Child, recovery is a swift but painful process. Please, lie and rest."
"I'm not drunk, if that is what you are saying."
"You have no idea of what happened on Weathertop?" A shake of her head extracted a sigh from the wizard. "Perhaps Frodo does. No? Then it is best that I explain."
He sank on to a chair near the hobbits and cleared his throat. "You were ambushed by the Ring wraiths on Weathertop. Their leader attempted to kill Frodo, blocked the first time by you, but succeeding the second time, yet only in grievously wounding him."
Rivers eyes had swollen. "Wait, I think I am drunk, after all." Tears pulled at her eyelids and Frodo squeezed her hand. She shook free from him and swiped at her empty eyes.
She remembered now. The glass had shattered; the screech of metal being crushed against itself filled her ears. Rivers was being tossed back into more than just her car. Ages of time and myths of other worlds climbed her aching body, wracked with blood. A figure loomed before her, and then there was awesome pain, filling her, becoming her. She was a squirming mass of anguish . . .
Her hands flew to catch her crying face, left middle finger splitting upon contact. She pulled away to see the single shard of crystal and gasped as the warm blood slid down her fair skin.
It was true. She had wrecked the car. There was glass in her hand.
"Where is Kyler? Where is my brother?"
"There was no other, child."
"Yes, there is! What have you done with him? Did he not 'merit' a longer life?"
Gandalf seemed startled, even having the nerve to look hurt. She let the tears come, meeting the wizard's glare. "Did-did he die?"
His lips curled into a mournful grin. Frodo patted her on the back as Rivers dissolved into a shuddering wail. She cried long and hard, unable to stop, even if she wanted to. Eventually, Frodo's hand vanished, leaving her in the presence of the wizard.
"My child, you really must stop crying. Your friend did not die, I believe."
"Then prove it!" Her red, puffy eyes appeared from her interlocked arms. "Where is he? I refuse to believe that he is alive until I see him!"
"Girl, there are many things you may refuse to believe in that you cannot see. Why burden yourself with believing? It is only an invention of the mind."
The weeping slowed, and then stopped. "Am I truly in Middle Earth?"
"The very one."
"But I'm not from Middle Earth!"
"Your accent proves that well enough. Perhaps you are from beyond the borders of Mordor, Gondor, and Rohan."
She shook her head, inspiring a question. "Where are you from, good child?"
"Firstly, I have a name and I am a woman, not a child."
"Where are you from, good woman?"
Rivers sighed in frustration. "My name, good geezer, is Rivers Elizabeth Brind'Amour, from Hastings, England."
"I've never heard of Hastings."
"Of course you haven't." She ripped the covers from her legs and put them back, realizing the temperature. "It's not of this world, nor of the Grey Havens."
Gandalf handed her a cloak of a silky, metallic red. She hesitated, but draped around her shoulders and stood up. The garment was long, besting her five foot, five inches by three or four of its own, the gold trimmed edges fanning out across the tile.
She realized she was garbed in a thin slip of white silk, splaying her legs and arms to her surroundings. Engulfed in the cloak, she felt protected. Her hair was down, messy from her tainted slumber.
"Well, I must take my leave. Stay here until we decide what shall be done with you."
She rolled her eyes. "The best of luck to you on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!"
The wizard was struck by an invisible lightening, sewing him into the tile. When he turned to face her, a look of sarcasm was splayed across her face, plastered there with a wavering confidence. His look skewered her taxed eyes, piecing her with an arrow of realization.
"I am mistaken. We must take our leave. Come, Rivers of Hastings."
* * * * *
"His strength returns."
Rivers tucked her feet beneath a stone bench, dressed in a proper pink gown. It was very simple; there was a small bit of embroidery on the bodice, which was cut low to show off her scarce bosom, and the edges were hemmed, unadorned with lace. She still hid behind her red cloak, her first gift in Middle Earth.
Elrond was a stocky elf; his presence (mainly his eyebrows) gave him all the commanding power he needed to make up for his grace. Rivers curtsied as she was introduced, but he only turned to Gandalf. The wizard and the elf exchanged wise words on the whereabouts of Sauron and the one Ring.
He tilted her chin, steering her gaze into his own. "And so have you, my lady. I remember the mangled girl you were when you first arrived."
Rivers could not bear him a smile. Her taxed and burdened eyes dropped elsewhere and he released her, leading Gandalf into an adjacent library.
"I see nothing more in her than a mere child."
"There is more than the eye can see." Gandalf braced himself on a shelf. "She made a comment about my passing on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm."
Elrond seemed quite startled. "Are you suggesting that she is a prophetess?"
"I'm not suggesting anything. But on the off-chance she is, she could be very dangerous."
"Do you mean to trust her with the Ring?"
"No, but she owes you her life, so it is in your-"
"Frodo owes her a great debt. She is bound to him, and he to her."
"If I may comment." Rivers and her red cloak swept into the room with a flourish of her scarlet garment. "I tried to save Frodo, I didn't actually save him."
"He is a Ringbearer. Anyone, even those who did not succeed, still deserves recognition."
The elf added skeptically, "And yet to have come so far, still bearing the Ring, the hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to it's evil."
"It is a burden he should have never had to bear. We can ask no more of Frodo."
"Gandalf, the enemy is moving. Sauron's forces are massing in the east-- his eye is fixed on Rivendell. And Saruman you tell me has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin."
Gandalf limped over to a balcony, letting the elvish wind sweep across his ancient features, nose thrusting itself from his face early. "His treachery runs deeper than you know. By foul craft Saruman has crossed orcs with goblin men, he's breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard. It is an army that can move in sunlight and cover great distance at speed. Saruman is coming for the Ring."
"Saruman would not dare step into Rivendell!"
"Saruman has surprised all of us before, good lady. He is as unpredictable as the men. This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves! We cannot fight both Mordor and Isengard!"
Rivers stamped her foot. "That isn't what Gandalf is asking! He needs like elves or something to take the Ring to Mordor!"
"To Mordor? To Sauron?"
"No, to Mount Doom to get rid of it!"
Gandalf pouted. "Do you see what I mean?"
"Lady Rivers, if I gave you the Ring, what would you do?"
Gandalf squinted at her, beady eyes striking her with a pang of humbleness. "Child, recovery is a swift but painful process. Please, lie and rest."
"I'm not drunk, if that is what you are saying."
"You have no idea of what happened on Weathertop?" A shake of her head extracted a sigh from the wizard. "Perhaps Frodo does. No? Then it is best that I explain."
He sank on to a chair near the hobbits and cleared his throat. "You were ambushed by the Ring wraiths on Weathertop. Their leader attempted to kill Frodo, blocked the first time by you, but succeeding the second time, yet only in grievously wounding him."
Rivers eyes had swollen. "Wait, I think I am drunk, after all." Tears pulled at her eyelids and Frodo squeezed her hand. She shook free from him and swiped at her empty eyes.
She remembered now. The glass had shattered; the screech of metal being crushed against itself filled her ears. Rivers was being tossed back into more than just her car. Ages of time and myths of other worlds climbed her aching body, wracked with blood. A figure loomed before her, and then there was awesome pain, filling her, becoming her. She was a squirming mass of anguish . . .
Her hands flew to catch her crying face, left middle finger splitting upon contact. She pulled away to see the single shard of crystal and gasped as the warm blood slid down her fair skin.
It was true. She had wrecked the car. There was glass in her hand.
"Where is Kyler? Where is my brother?"
"There was no other, child."
"Yes, there is! What have you done with him? Did he not 'merit' a longer life?"
Gandalf seemed startled, even having the nerve to look hurt. She let the tears come, meeting the wizard's glare. "Did-did he die?"
His lips curled into a mournful grin. Frodo patted her on the back as Rivers dissolved into a shuddering wail. She cried long and hard, unable to stop, even if she wanted to. Eventually, Frodo's hand vanished, leaving her in the presence of the wizard.
"My child, you really must stop crying. Your friend did not die, I believe."
"Then prove it!" Her red, puffy eyes appeared from her interlocked arms. "Where is he? I refuse to believe that he is alive until I see him!"
"Girl, there are many things you may refuse to believe in that you cannot see. Why burden yourself with believing? It is only an invention of the mind."
The weeping slowed, and then stopped. "Am I truly in Middle Earth?"
"The very one."
"But I'm not from Middle Earth!"
"Your accent proves that well enough. Perhaps you are from beyond the borders of Mordor, Gondor, and Rohan."
She shook her head, inspiring a question. "Where are you from, good child?"
"Firstly, I have a name and I am a woman, not a child."
"Where are you from, good woman?"
Rivers sighed in frustration. "My name, good geezer, is Rivers Elizabeth Brind'Amour, from Hastings, England."
"I've never heard of Hastings."
"Of course you haven't." She ripped the covers from her legs and put them back, realizing the temperature. "It's not of this world, nor of the Grey Havens."
Gandalf handed her a cloak of a silky, metallic red. She hesitated, but draped around her shoulders and stood up. The garment was long, besting her five foot, five inches by three or four of its own, the gold trimmed edges fanning out across the tile.
She realized she was garbed in a thin slip of white silk, splaying her legs and arms to her surroundings. Engulfed in the cloak, she felt protected. Her hair was down, messy from her tainted slumber.
"Well, I must take my leave. Stay here until we decide what shall be done with you."
She rolled her eyes. "The best of luck to you on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm!"
The wizard was struck by an invisible lightening, sewing him into the tile. When he turned to face her, a look of sarcasm was splayed across her face, plastered there with a wavering confidence. His look skewered her taxed eyes, piecing her with an arrow of realization.
"I am mistaken. We must take our leave. Come, Rivers of Hastings."
* * * * *
"His strength returns."
Rivers tucked her feet beneath a stone bench, dressed in a proper pink gown. It was very simple; there was a small bit of embroidery on the bodice, which was cut low to show off her scarce bosom, and the edges were hemmed, unadorned with lace. She still hid behind her red cloak, her first gift in Middle Earth.
Elrond was a stocky elf; his presence (mainly his eyebrows) gave him all the commanding power he needed to make up for his grace. Rivers curtsied as she was introduced, but he only turned to Gandalf. The wizard and the elf exchanged wise words on the whereabouts of Sauron and the one Ring.
He tilted her chin, steering her gaze into his own. "And so have you, my lady. I remember the mangled girl you were when you first arrived."
Rivers could not bear him a smile. Her taxed and burdened eyes dropped elsewhere and he released her, leading Gandalf into an adjacent library.
"I see nothing more in her than a mere child."
"There is more than the eye can see." Gandalf braced himself on a shelf. "She made a comment about my passing on the Bridge of Khazad-dûm."
Elrond seemed quite startled. "Are you suggesting that she is a prophetess?"
"I'm not suggesting anything. But on the off-chance she is, she could be very dangerous."
"Do you mean to trust her with the Ring?"
"No, but she owes you her life, so it is in your-"
"Frodo owes her a great debt. She is bound to him, and he to her."
"If I may comment." Rivers and her red cloak swept into the room with a flourish of her scarlet garment. "I tried to save Frodo, I didn't actually save him."
"He is a Ringbearer. Anyone, even those who did not succeed, still deserves recognition."
The elf added skeptically, "And yet to have come so far, still bearing the Ring, the hobbit has shown extraordinary resilience to it's evil."
"It is a burden he should have never had to bear. We can ask no more of Frodo."
"Gandalf, the enemy is moving. Sauron's forces are massing in the east-- his eye is fixed on Rivendell. And Saruman you tell me has betrayed us. Our list of allies grows thin."
Gandalf limped over to a balcony, letting the elvish wind sweep across his ancient features, nose thrusting itself from his face early. "His treachery runs deeper than you know. By foul craft Saruman has crossed orcs with goblin men, he's breeding an army in the caverns of Isengard. It is an army that can move in sunlight and cover great distance at speed. Saruman is coming for the Ring."
"Saruman would not dare step into Rivendell!"
"Saruman has surprised all of us before, good lady. He is as unpredictable as the men. This evil cannot be concealed by the power of the Elves! We cannot fight both Mordor and Isengard!"
Rivers stamped her foot. "That isn't what Gandalf is asking! He needs like elves or something to take the Ring to Mordor!"
"To Mordor? To Sauron?"
"No, to Mount Doom to get rid of it!"
Gandalf pouted. "Do you see what I mean?"
"Lady Rivers, if I gave you the Ring, what would you do?"