Dreamcast I: Become A Believer
Chapter 7: Hordes of the Underdark
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
The next two days was nothing but the endless climbing of stone stairways and running across barren floors of solid, carved stone. An intangible pall hung over the party, save whimpers and prayers from Gimli. Rivers marched solemnly next to Frodo, lost in her thoughts.
I'll claim my reward for now.
Sheesh, I have a lot to think about.
Another staircase loomed before them, Frodo sliding in front of her to alight the steps. Eventually, she dove over the top ledge and sighed.
It was the three doors, and this time Gandalf would hold her to her will, not that she would bend again. "I have no memory of this place."
"Are we lost?"
"Of course not."
"I think we are."
"Shh! Gandalf is thinking!"
"Merry?"
"What?"
"I'm hungry."
"Oh, grow up, Peregrin Took." He sat down next to Rivers, who hugged him reassuringly. Pippin plopped down on Rivers other side and picked up a rock. He traced symbols in the stone. Rivers said, "You speak English. Can you write?"
"English?"
She explained that the Common tongue was called English where she was from, which spun into a whole monologue on England. Listening from a distance, Legolas was astonished to find that she had done many things in such a short expansion of life. "We do lots of things after school that you guys might find disturbing."
Aragorn asked, "Like what?"
"Like going to parties with people and getting off with boys."
"Getting off with?" Sam laughed.
"You know, like, um, hard kissing? Making out? Snogging?"
"Have you got off with a boy before?"
"Nosy little hobbit." She tweaked Sam's nose. "Truthfully, more than once, but they're one night stands, so they don't count as actual relationship."
"What if you see him the next day?" Pippin asked. "Then does it count?"
"It so dark, you wouldn't recognize your 'partner', if you will."
"That's disgusting!" Rivers laughed in reply. "Actually, it's part of growing up. Don't tell me you haven't done it at least once." She eyed the group, commenting on everyone. "Aragorn, well, you have Arwen, Sam has Rosie, and well Merry and Pippin are just gentle-hobbits, right?"
"Am I a gentle-hobbit?"
"Yes, Frodo."
"As a gentle-hobbit, must I refrain from getting off with?"
"Possibly."
"Possibly?"
"Yes, possibly."
Rivers was startled when Legolas said something. He had vanished from the conversation. "Do English boys think about it the same way as girls?"
"I don't know. Probably not."
"Why? What do they think of it?"
"You have to understand people's different values of love. Some people really want a down-to-earth relationship and others only want sex-"
"Ah ha!" Gandalf stood up, pointy hat tucked beneath his arm. "It's this way!"
Legolas was ill at ease as he followed the wizard though the portal.
* * * * *
"No! No!" Gimli's bulk shoved through the door, halting to kneel at a large stone aberration in the middle of the room. A shaft of light shone down on the smooth top, illuminating the words etched into the stone: "'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.' He is dead then. Its as I feared."
The wizard wrenched a dusty tome from a rotting dwarf's grasp. Rivers snatched Pippin and pulled him close to her. "They have taken the bridge, and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep."
Pippin shuddered. Gandalf turned the page. "We cannot get out. A Shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out...they are coming."
Someone's hand clapped Rivers' shoulder. In alarm, she shoved the hobbit forward and screamed. Pippin reacted instinctively by tossing Gandalf's things away and running about, joining Rivers chorus of fright.
Gandalf's hat fluttered to the ground as his staff slammed into a corpse, knocking off its perch atop the well. Clanking loudly, it zoomed down the shaft. A painful silence ensued, broken by Gandalf. "A Took and a hopeless girl! Throw yourselves in and rid us of your stupidity!" Drums serenaded his voice as he flung his things onto the ground.
Rivers and the hobbits shank against the wall, Sting glowing a deep turquoise as they drew their weapons. She fell to her knees to find one for herself.
An axe, a morning star, and a short knife were the best she could find. Now to pick one . . . but which one? The scimitar was too small to help her and the axe was gigantic, rendering her unable to lift it. The morning star was light, however, light as a ribbon.
A ribbon! As a young girl, she remembered ribbon dancing with her cousin in Newcastle. The silk threads flew brightly about their childish bodies like lovely colored flags.
She lifted it easily, questioning its damage factor. Stepping away from the shivering hobbits, she swung it a familiar combo—and slammed it against the wall. Chunks of plaster and mortar crumbled beneath the force of the blow. "That works," she said, pulling the spike ball from the wall.
A roar, muffled by the blocked door, wrenched the adrenaline from her insides. Fearful energy webbed through her. Boromir growled, "They have a cave troll."
Gimli hopped up onto the sarcophagus of his cousin. "Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria that still draws breath!"
Wood splintered. Legolas loosened an arrow. The door creaked, threatening to give way, and it did. Orcs poured into the room and the Fellowship fell upon them.
A particularly ugly beast snarled at Rivers. She swung the chain single- handedly, and the orc dropped, its throat cut. Rivers watched Sam bang one with his frying pan, saying, "I think I'm getting the hang of this!"
A rock caught her shoulder. Spinning her new weapon, she whirled around. A growl identified her attacker as the troll. Legolas hopped off its knobby head to watch Rivers fling her coil at the beast. The morning star curled around the hook of its knife and locked there.
Its brute strength whipped her from her feet and she slammed into a pillar across the room.
The next two days was nothing but the endless climbing of stone stairways and running across barren floors of solid, carved stone. An intangible pall hung over the party, save whimpers and prayers from Gimli. Rivers marched solemnly next to Frodo, lost in her thoughts.
I'll claim my reward for now.
Sheesh, I have a lot to think about.
Another staircase loomed before them, Frodo sliding in front of her to alight the steps. Eventually, she dove over the top ledge and sighed.
It was the three doors, and this time Gandalf would hold her to her will, not that she would bend again. "I have no memory of this place."
"Are we lost?"
"Of course not."
"I think we are."
"Shh! Gandalf is thinking!"
"Merry?"
"What?"
"I'm hungry."
"Oh, grow up, Peregrin Took." He sat down next to Rivers, who hugged him reassuringly. Pippin plopped down on Rivers other side and picked up a rock. He traced symbols in the stone. Rivers said, "You speak English. Can you write?"
"English?"
She explained that the Common tongue was called English where she was from, which spun into a whole monologue on England. Listening from a distance, Legolas was astonished to find that she had done many things in such a short expansion of life. "We do lots of things after school that you guys might find disturbing."
Aragorn asked, "Like what?"
"Like going to parties with people and getting off with boys."
"Getting off with?" Sam laughed.
"You know, like, um, hard kissing? Making out? Snogging?"
"Have you got off with a boy before?"
"Nosy little hobbit." She tweaked Sam's nose. "Truthfully, more than once, but they're one night stands, so they don't count as actual relationship."
"What if you see him the next day?" Pippin asked. "Then does it count?"
"It so dark, you wouldn't recognize your 'partner', if you will."
"That's disgusting!" Rivers laughed in reply. "Actually, it's part of growing up. Don't tell me you haven't done it at least once." She eyed the group, commenting on everyone. "Aragorn, well, you have Arwen, Sam has Rosie, and well Merry and Pippin are just gentle-hobbits, right?"
"Am I a gentle-hobbit?"
"Yes, Frodo."
"As a gentle-hobbit, must I refrain from getting off with?"
"Possibly."
"Possibly?"
"Yes, possibly."
Rivers was startled when Legolas said something. He had vanished from the conversation. "Do English boys think about it the same way as girls?"
"I don't know. Probably not."
"Why? What do they think of it?"
"You have to understand people's different values of love. Some people really want a down-to-earth relationship and others only want sex-"
"Ah ha!" Gandalf stood up, pointy hat tucked beneath his arm. "It's this way!"
Legolas was ill at ease as he followed the wizard though the portal.
* * * * *
"No! No!" Gimli's bulk shoved through the door, halting to kneel at a large stone aberration in the middle of the room. A shaft of light shone down on the smooth top, illuminating the words etched into the stone: "'Here lies Balin, son of Fundin, Lord of Moria.' He is dead then. Its as I feared."
The wizard wrenched a dusty tome from a rotting dwarf's grasp. Rivers snatched Pippin and pulled him close to her. "They have taken the bridge, and the second hall. We have barred the gates, but cannot hold them for long. The ground shakes. Drums, drums in the deep."
Pippin shuddered. Gandalf turned the page. "We cannot get out. A Shadow moves in the dark. We cannot get out...they are coming."
Someone's hand clapped Rivers' shoulder. In alarm, she shoved the hobbit forward and screamed. Pippin reacted instinctively by tossing Gandalf's things away and running about, joining Rivers chorus of fright.
Gandalf's hat fluttered to the ground as his staff slammed into a corpse, knocking off its perch atop the well. Clanking loudly, it zoomed down the shaft. A painful silence ensued, broken by Gandalf. "A Took and a hopeless girl! Throw yourselves in and rid us of your stupidity!" Drums serenaded his voice as he flung his things onto the ground.
Rivers and the hobbits shank against the wall, Sting glowing a deep turquoise as they drew their weapons. She fell to her knees to find one for herself.
An axe, a morning star, and a short knife were the best she could find. Now to pick one . . . but which one? The scimitar was too small to help her and the axe was gigantic, rendering her unable to lift it. The morning star was light, however, light as a ribbon.
A ribbon! As a young girl, she remembered ribbon dancing with her cousin in Newcastle. The silk threads flew brightly about their childish bodies like lovely colored flags.
She lifted it easily, questioning its damage factor. Stepping away from the shivering hobbits, she swung it a familiar combo—and slammed it against the wall. Chunks of plaster and mortar crumbled beneath the force of the blow. "That works," she said, pulling the spike ball from the wall.
A roar, muffled by the blocked door, wrenched the adrenaline from her insides. Fearful energy webbed through her. Boromir growled, "They have a cave troll."
Gimli hopped up onto the sarcophagus of his cousin. "Let them come! There is one dwarf yet in Moria that still draws breath!"
Wood splintered. Legolas loosened an arrow. The door creaked, threatening to give way, and it did. Orcs poured into the room and the Fellowship fell upon them.
A particularly ugly beast snarled at Rivers. She swung the chain single- handedly, and the orc dropped, its throat cut. Rivers watched Sam bang one with his frying pan, saying, "I think I'm getting the hang of this!"
A rock caught her shoulder. Spinning her new weapon, she whirled around. A growl identified her attacker as the troll. Legolas hopped off its knobby head to watch Rivers fling her coil at the beast. The morning star curled around the hook of its knife and locked there.
Its brute strength whipped her from her feet and she slammed into a pillar across the room.