Dreamcast I: Become A Believer
Chapter 11: Memories or Nightmares?
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
"What surprises you most about human kind?"
This was talking. They had digressed to the topic of the faults of the races of Middle Earth. Legolas answered, "It's hard to say. Me, I'm immortal, whereas you are not. Men rush to grow up, then long to be children again."
"Is that truly a surprise, or a fault? We fear death because it means we won't live anymore."
"Live? Like dying?"
"Yes, we will die. The function of a human is not to exist, but to live."
"But live like you will remain forever, but you die as though you hadn't lived."
"Exactly! This is nice, for me to find a blemish of the elves. You do not feel the urge to grow up, adventure, or love."
"I'm adventuring now, and you can't make someone love you, you can only make love to them."
"Make love? As in, like, sex?"
Legolas gave her an astonished look, relishing the laugh that she poured from her lips. Her eyes dropped as she fumbled with the corners of the bed cushion she sprawled out on. "Yes, my lady, sex." He came over and sat next to her, and she sat up with her legs crossed, cloak still draped about her shoulders.
"This may seem forward, but have you, err, you know, like, gotten of with elf before?"
"I thought getting off with pertained to 'snogging'."
She laughed, but richened her tone with seriousness. "Maybe."
His eyebrows shot toward his hairline. "Are you saying you have lost your right as a virgin?"
"No," she said firmly, but her expression softened. "Well, I came really close."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, Kyler and I have sorted it out. I forgave him and I forgave myself."
"Was Kyler your partner?"
Rivers lost it. She laughed until her sides ached with pain, and slowly, between spasms of giggles, said, "No, he is my brother. He's too retarded to have sex."
Legolas' cheeks blossomed into twin roses of embarrassment. "I'm a bit confused."
"I was at a gig with my friends when I met my boyfriend there. We went upstairs to what people call the high chambers. It's where you get off with, I guess."
He nodded understandingly. I can tell him everything, when Kyler has to pressure it out of me. God, this feels so normal.
"My 'partner' really wanted to, like, take me, but I wouldn't let him. I struggled, and he left me alone, and broke up with me the next day."
Legolas disliked the idea of almost taking her virginity and then abandoning her. Rivers saw the daunted expression across his gorgeous features and said, "I got over that one, with a little help." He face drooped a bit, just enough fro the elf to inquire, "You miss your family?"
She shook her head. "Kyler is the only one that I tell everything to, because I don't have any parents."
"Really? How so?"
"I'm a tavern girl." Seeing the perplexed look on his face, she explained, "You know, like a paid prostitute who didn't have protection and got unlucky with birth control? I guess it runs in the family, because my 'father' left my mother, too. She committed suicide when I was 2."
"I'm sorry."
"I didn't know either of them, and I don't care to." She sighed, trying to wipe away a rogue tear from her cheek. She didn't even feel the elf slide off the bed and stand in front of her. "You're crying."
"No, I'm not. I'm just thinking of my brother." Again, she sighed. "It's been over a month, Legolas. My birthday is in 2 months." Another tear ground down her face. "It'll be the first I've celebrated with out Kyler. We do everything together."
Legolas cupped her chin with his left hand, steering her gaze into his own. Under his stare, Rivers felt the tears sizzle away as she smoldered beneath it, tearing away when she was unable to hold it. Once again, her heart was beating with unbridled violence. He murmured a farewell in Elvish, and left.
She remained in bed all through the night and the morning, eating into the evening. Memories passed before her waking, white eyes. Kyler and his bouncy ball from her days as a toddler and her smiling lugubriously as she watched her nine-year old brother flounder through his first steps plagued her vision. She witnessed her compound fracture, her twin abjectly confused as her friend, Tate, graciously explained what happened for the eighth time.
"Mistress?" Someone shook her sharply. "It's Rílaisseth."
"Oh, right." Rivers tossed the covers away. The elf mingled about her chambers, cleaning and stalling. Rivers simply pulled her favorite cloak over her shoulders and waited for the maid to stop killing precious time.
Finally, Rílaisseth stood up. "Your presence was greatly missed at Galadriel's meeting this morning."
"Is that so?" Rivers said flatly, secretly embarrassed about her waste of time.
"She was going to give you this," Rílaisseth smirked. She produced along crystal tube, holes drilled into the sides. They were surrounded by flourishes of raised glass. It perplexed Rivers, but she took it any way, finger curling around the mouthpiece with puzzled interest.
Rílaisseth said, "It's the Cúron Ivor, quite literally 'crescent moon crystal' in Sindarin. It is an instrument of wonder in the eyes of all." She took it, wrapping it in a lace case and placing by Rivers' things. Rivers knew how to play regular flutes, but she didn't know why she was given a crystal one. Rílaisseth helped her dress in a white gown with diamonds encrusted into the bodice and left.
Overcome with curiosity, she picked up the precious flute and caressed it lovingly. The Elves were divine beings, but in their solitude and quiet prejudices, Rivers wondered if, in their own daunting way, they were showing off. The artifact before her turned a translucent orange in the glow of the fire.
Instinct drove it to her lips; it tasted of solid power beneath her tongue. She blew softly.
No sound came out. She blew harder, this time shifting her fingertips in an elegant waltz across the tube's crystalline surface. The fire reared up in the fireplace, threatening to move from its prison below the mantelpiece.
The flute whirled her away from the elven room. She floundered through emptiness and was dumped onto a cold, linoleum floor. Happiness relieved her body from a violent tremble as she saw the hospital bed before her.
Wait...
The walls were big, metal cabinets, one thrust open with the bed extended. The label on the door read her name, followed by a series of numbers. Her brother stood over the bed and a tear wiggled down his cheek.
This was no hospital.
It was a morgue.
"What surprises you most about human kind?"
This was talking. They had digressed to the topic of the faults of the races of Middle Earth. Legolas answered, "It's hard to say. Me, I'm immortal, whereas you are not. Men rush to grow up, then long to be children again."
"Is that truly a surprise, or a fault? We fear death because it means we won't live anymore."
"Live? Like dying?"
"Yes, we will die. The function of a human is not to exist, but to live."
"But live like you will remain forever, but you die as though you hadn't lived."
"Exactly! This is nice, for me to find a blemish of the elves. You do not feel the urge to grow up, adventure, or love."
"I'm adventuring now, and you can't make someone love you, you can only make love to them."
"Make love? As in, like, sex?"
Legolas gave her an astonished look, relishing the laugh that she poured from her lips. Her eyes dropped as she fumbled with the corners of the bed cushion she sprawled out on. "Yes, my lady, sex." He came over and sat next to her, and she sat up with her legs crossed, cloak still draped about her shoulders.
"This may seem forward, but have you, err, you know, like, gotten of with elf before?"
"I thought getting off with pertained to 'snogging'."
She laughed, but richened her tone with seriousness. "Maybe."
His eyebrows shot toward his hairline. "Are you saying you have lost your right as a virgin?"
"No," she said firmly, but her expression softened. "Well, I came really close."
"Do you want to talk about it?"
"No, Kyler and I have sorted it out. I forgave him and I forgave myself."
"Was Kyler your partner?"
Rivers lost it. She laughed until her sides ached with pain, and slowly, between spasms of giggles, said, "No, he is my brother. He's too retarded to have sex."
Legolas' cheeks blossomed into twin roses of embarrassment. "I'm a bit confused."
"I was at a gig with my friends when I met my boyfriend there. We went upstairs to what people call the high chambers. It's where you get off with, I guess."
He nodded understandingly. I can tell him everything, when Kyler has to pressure it out of me. God, this feels so normal.
"My 'partner' really wanted to, like, take me, but I wouldn't let him. I struggled, and he left me alone, and broke up with me the next day."
Legolas disliked the idea of almost taking her virginity and then abandoning her. Rivers saw the daunted expression across his gorgeous features and said, "I got over that one, with a little help." He face drooped a bit, just enough fro the elf to inquire, "You miss your family?"
She shook her head. "Kyler is the only one that I tell everything to, because I don't have any parents."
"Really? How so?"
"I'm a tavern girl." Seeing the perplexed look on his face, she explained, "You know, like a paid prostitute who didn't have protection and got unlucky with birth control? I guess it runs in the family, because my 'father' left my mother, too. She committed suicide when I was 2."
"I'm sorry."
"I didn't know either of them, and I don't care to." She sighed, trying to wipe away a rogue tear from her cheek. She didn't even feel the elf slide off the bed and stand in front of her. "You're crying."
"No, I'm not. I'm just thinking of my brother." Again, she sighed. "It's been over a month, Legolas. My birthday is in 2 months." Another tear ground down her face. "It'll be the first I've celebrated with out Kyler. We do everything together."
Legolas cupped her chin with his left hand, steering her gaze into his own. Under his stare, Rivers felt the tears sizzle away as she smoldered beneath it, tearing away when she was unable to hold it. Once again, her heart was beating with unbridled violence. He murmured a farewell in Elvish, and left.
She remained in bed all through the night and the morning, eating into the evening. Memories passed before her waking, white eyes. Kyler and his bouncy ball from her days as a toddler and her smiling lugubriously as she watched her nine-year old brother flounder through his first steps plagued her vision. She witnessed her compound fracture, her twin abjectly confused as her friend, Tate, graciously explained what happened for the eighth time.
"Mistress?" Someone shook her sharply. "It's Rílaisseth."
"Oh, right." Rivers tossed the covers away. The elf mingled about her chambers, cleaning and stalling. Rivers simply pulled her favorite cloak over her shoulders and waited for the maid to stop killing precious time.
Finally, Rílaisseth stood up. "Your presence was greatly missed at Galadriel's meeting this morning."
"Is that so?" Rivers said flatly, secretly embarrassed about her waste of time.
"She was going to give you this," Rílaisseth smirked. She produced along crystal tube, holes drilled into the sides. They were surrounded by flourishes of raised glass. It perplexed Rivers, but she took it any way, finger curling around the mouthpiece with puzzled interest.
Rílaisseth said, "It's the Cúron Ivor, quite literally 'crescent moon crystal' in Sindarin. It is an instrument of wonder in the eyes of all." She took it, wrapping it in a lace case and placing by Rivers' things. Rivers knew how to play regular flutes, but she didn't know why she was given a crystal one. Rílaisseth helped her dress in a white gown with diamonds encrusted into the bodice and left.
Overcome with curiosity, she picked up the precious flute and caressed it lovingly. The Elves were divine beings, but in their solitude and quiet prejudices, Rivers wondered if, in their own daunting way, they were showing off. The artifact before her turned a translucent orange in the glow of the fire.
Instinct drove it to her lips; it tasted of solid power beneath her tongue. She blew softly.
No sound came out. She blew harder, this time shifting her fingertips in an elegant waltz across the tube's crystalline surface. The fire reared up in the fireplace, threatening to move from its prison below the mantelpiece.
The flute whirled her away from the elven room. She floundered through emptiness and was dumped onto a cold, linoleum floor. Happiness relieved her body from a violent tremble as she saw the hospital bed before her.
Wait...
The walls were big, metal cabinets, one thrust open with the bed extended. The label on the door read her name, followed by a series of numbers. Her brother stood over the bed and a tear wiggled down his cheek.
This was no hospital.
It was a morgue.