Dreamcast I: Become A Believer
Chapter 10: Hearing More
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
Something was dripping as it neared midnight. Annoyed and pissed off, Rivers floundered out of bed and fumbled for her cloak. Bare-footed, she set off after the sound.
"Damn these stupid things," she mumbled giving her breeches a hitch. "Elves. Why don't they menstruate? They're so smart, they might actually invent tampons."
The shattering of water droplets grew and she turned the corner. She gasped at what she saw, the soft echo of her flesh against the cold marble drowned in the dripping.
The mirror of Galadriel stood in the clearing of moss. A waterfall trickled in the background. Rivers pinpointed the dripping to the clogged waterfall, but was unable to confirm it, for an elf stood near the tiny pond where the waters pooled.
He gold locks told Rivers it was Galadriel. She was daunted by her voice. "The mirror of Galadriel ceases to function." Galadriel turned. "Do you know why, child?"
Rivers shook her head.
"Perhaps someone's presence disturbs it." She strode of to her and took Rivers' hands in her own. "It is not you. It is your number."
Confused, Rivers withdrew her fingers.
"Ten set out from Rivendell, when only nine was foreseen. Yet nine arrive in Lothlòrien. It is troubled times, these days."
Unsure of the elven woman before her, Rivers backed away cautiously. A mystical look glazed the witch's eyes. "But . . . there remains enough in the mirror for one to look . . . will you look in the mirror?"
* * * * *
Rivers smiled to the flames that licked the fireplace, pleased that the pain had dissipated and she was free from the makeshift pad that she wore. The heat was incredible, but she didn't notice.
No, it is not my place to look at such things.
Is that so?
Yes, now if you'll excuse me, I will retire.
She had yet to retire. She was much too restless. The fire coveted her, so this was where she remained, unable to tear away from the writhing pillars of fire.
Suddenly, the fire flickered strangely. Rivers leaned in, squinting.
There was her brother, remade in the heat, on a hospital bed. Tubes were shoved in his arms, down his throat, and up his nose. The flames gave him a jaundiced appearance, but otherwise he seemed fine. His breathing was deep and even, the patches that moderated his heart rate bobbing up and down.
As if on cue, he sat up and looked around. Anger swept his features and Rivers almost hurled as he pulled the pipes from his mouth. He tore the patches off and ripped an I.V. from his wrist. The fire swirled and the vision was lost.
"No!" she mumbled and reached for him, like she could bring him back. Instantly, she drew her hand back. It was unscathed, but her scar burned with a latent pain. She bit back another yelp.
A strong, swift hand turned her around, sprawling her in the floor. A wisp of hair drifted across her face. She couldn't see and flailed her arm at her face to be rid her of the treacherous locks of banded glory.
It was Legolas.
He was standing in the vee of Rivers legs.
She gulped.
Suddenly, she snapped her legs together, but he jumped out of the way gracefully. The loud slap of her flesh echoed through the muslin of her night rail.
"Good evening."
"Hiccup. I mean, hi."
"I heard you yelling."
She rolled her eyes. "I screamed that loud?"
Stunned, he turned away. "Wait," she said feebly, and he stopped in the door well, head turned far enough for him to see her. "Don't go."
It was like she had lightening imbued in her tongue. "What are you suggesting?"
"Err, well, you could stay a little bit, if you wanted."
"And what would we talk about?"
"I dunno. The ring, maybe?"
"What would a foreigner know of Sauron and his evil?"
"I am a woman, and I know lots of things About the Ring." Legolas moved a sheaf of clothes from a chair and sat down, lacing his fingers together to make a chin rest. Rivers continued, "Well, the Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom, by Sauron, over a thousand years ago. A last alliance of men and elves marches upon the armies of Mordor, including Elrond and Icildur. Sauron stepped on Icildur's sword but he still got the Ring off his finger."
Legolas said, "How do you know? That day was lost, years and years ago."
She grinned. "Would you like to hear more?"
A/N: OMG! Ten chapters, two reviews... so much for a healthy support system!
Limpet: Your address is *still* dysfunctional..... email me.
Reggie and Roobes: Glad you like it! Hope this one clears up a bit of Riv's history...
Something was dripping as it neared midnight. Annoyed and pissed off, Rivers floundered out of bed and fumbled for her cloak. Bare-footed, she set off after the sound.
"Damn these stupid things," she mumbled giving her breeches a hitch. "Elves. Why don't they menstruate? They're so smart, they might actually invent tampons."
The shattering of water droplets grew and she turned the corner. She gasped at what she saw, the soft echo of her flesh against the cold marble drowned in the dripping.
The mirror of Galadriel stood in the clearing of moss. A waterfall trickled in the background. Rivers pinpointed the dripping to the clogged waterfall, but was unable to confirm it, for an elf stood near the tiny pond where the waters pooled.
He gold locks told Rivers it was Galadriel. She was daunted by her voice. "The mirror of Galadriel ceases to function." Galadriel turned. "Do you know why, child?"
Rivers shook her head.
"Perhaps someone's presence disturbs it." She strode of to her and took Rivers' hands in her own. "It is not you. It is your number."
Confused, Rivers withdrew her fingers.
"Ten set out from Rivendell, when only nine was foreseen. Yet nine arrive in Lothlòrien. It is troubled times, these days."
Unsure of the elven woman before her, Rivers backed away cautiously. A mystical look glazed the witch's eyes. "But . . . there remains enough in the mirror for one to look . . . will you look in the mirror?"
* * * * *
Rivers smiled to the flames that licked the fireplace, pleased that the pain had dissipated and she was free from the makeshift pad that she wore. The heat was incredible, but she didn't notice.
No, it is not my place to look at such things.
Is that so?
Yes, now if you'll excuse me, I will retire.
She had yet to retire. She was much too restless. The fire coveted her, so this was where she remained, unable to tear away from the writhing pillars of fire.
Suddenly, the fire flickered strangely. Rivers leaned in, squinting.
There was her brother, remade in the heat, on a hospital bed. Tubes were shoved in his arms, down his throat, and up his nose. The flames gave him a jaundiced appearance, but otherwise he seemed fine. His breathing was deep and even, the patches that moderated his heart rate bobbing up and down.
As if on cue, he sat up and looked around. Anger swept his features and Rivers almost hurled as he pulled the pipes from his mouth. He tore the patches off and ripped an I.V. from his wrist. The fire swirled and the vision was lost.
"No!" she mumbled and reached for him, like she could bring him back. Instantly, she drew her hand back. It was unscathed, but her scar burned with a latent pain. She bit back another yelp.
A strong, swift hand turned her around, sprawling her in the floor. A wisp of hair drifted across her face. She couldn't see and flailed her arm at her face to be rid her of the treacherous locks of banded glory.
It was Legolas.
He was standing in the vee of Rivers legs.
She gulped.
Suddenly, she snapped her legs together, but he jumped out of the way gracefully. The loud slap of her flesh echoed through the muslin of her night rail.
"Good evening."
"Hiccup. I mean, hi."
"I heard you yelling."
She rolled her eyes. "I screamed that loud?"
Stunned, he turned away. "Wait," she said feebly, and he stopped in the door well, head turned far enough for him to see her. "Don't go."
It was like she had lightening imbued in her tongue. "What are you suggesting?"
"Err, well, you could stay a little bit, if you wanted."
"And what would we talk about?"
"I dunno. The ring, maybe?"
"What would a foreigner know of Sauron and his evil?"
"I am a woman, and I know lots of things About the Ring." Legolas moved a sheaf of clothes from a chair and sat down, lacing his fingers together to make a chin rest. Rivers continued, "Well, the Ring was made in the fires of Mount Doom, by Sauron, over a thousand years ago. A last alliance of men and elves marches upon the armies of Mordor, including Elrond and Icildur. Sauron stepped on Icildur's sword but he still got the Ring off his finger."
Legolas said, "How do you know? That day was lost, years and years ago."
She grinned. "Would you like to hear more?"
A/N: OMG! Ten chapters, two reviews... so much for a healthy support system!
Limpet: Your address is *still* dysfunctional..... email me.
Reggie and Roobes: Glad you like it! Hope this one clears up a bit of Riv's history...