Hello people. Lillia here, yes I am alive. I am sorry about the wait, but I had more than serious WBS (Writers Block Syndrome) for this fic. I did not get enough reviews...but I don't really care about that. I need to write before the mary sues overrun and choke the very essence of what is a classic and timeless tale, but will soon dwindle and middle earth will die of overrun of invented characters. No offense to any writers of mary sues. I've read a few, when in short supply of other things, and some aren't bad. I actually read one that was pretty good, until one certain chapter...where after I stopped reading. But some original characters are actually original...but most of them are not...not that I really have a right to say anything...having written a mary sue in another genre...:P
Disclaimer: I am not a genius, nor am I dead, so obviously not the great Tolkien. I am simply borrowing his beloved characters to use in my innocent story where they shall be returned back to him at a later date, with no harm done (maybe, hehehe).
An Escape from Darkness
Swirling darkness had encased the world, shutting off all light, sound and thought. Thickening to a point of dizzying comfort and stretching on forever. This was the existence for in an incalculable amount of time. Then the darkness somehow lightened a bit, and he was aware of a cool touch on his face. Black swirled into deep gray and hazy colors tipped in at the edges. A voice entered this swirl of darkness and entering color, and mixed in. The words it spoke held no meaning, but very slowly developed more clarity and volume. Then slowly he became aware of all things. He was lying in a bed softer than anything he could remember, and sweating under the weight of blankets. Then just as sound gathered more clarity, as did his feeling. Pain tore into his existence from all fronts, attacking at his back and shoulders in the form of sharp stings and burning that steadily gained strength. He found his breathe to be labored and scraping, his throat raw. Every part of his body hurt in some way he could not comprehend, and this sudden pain chased all aspects of his comforting darkness away until he was left in naked reality.
Although the darkness had diminished, the swirling of confusion was still present. His main query concerned why he was in such pain and why he could not open his eyes to see what was happening. His eyelids felt as if they were weighed down by some force. After a moment of concentration and a great effort, they very slowly lifted to a slit.
Instantly blinding, white effulgence penetrated painfully through the slit, forcing him to quickly flinch his eyes back shut. But after a moment, he decided that he had worked far too hard to get his eyes open and was not about to retreat, stinging light or no stinging light. It was a bit easier to open his eyes this time, and after blinking painfully at the intensity, he forced himself to keep them open. He could hear the voices again, and this time they were louder and all around him. After the white glare faded, he could make out colors swirling above him. They swirled around and around, fading and then darkening and then fading again before his eyes. Getting dizzy again, he blinked a few more times, and the colors slowly began to slacken their pace of swirling and take general shapes.
The voices still continued their incomprehensible chatter, as he struggled to find meaning in any of it. A shadow passed over his eyes quickly, before something cool lay upon his forehead, and gently swept back through his sweaty curls. He soon identified it as a hand, and tried to lift into the touch as it offered a drop of comfort, but the slight movement caused a ripple of pain to spread down his neck and back, further feeding the fire there. He could not help a sharp intake of breathe at the sting, and this as well pained him. A shape darker in color than what had been there appeared over him. Forcing himself to focus upon this shape, slowly it cleared and steadied. He now found himself looking up into the deep brown eyes of a hobbit. The figure doubled in amount and then singled again quickly, before focusing almost completely.
"Mr. Frodo?" Brown Eyes asked, his voice anxious and relieved at the same time.
Frodo blinked again. Mr. Frodo? Who was he? He thought slowly. He looked back at the brown eyed hobbit...for that matter, who was this? He knew him, of that he was sure...he recognized his eyes and the humble deepness of his voice was slightly familiar. Concentrating, Frodo tried to focus his still slightly swirling thoughts, and fix on an inkling of Brown Eyes. Suddenly a barrage of images flooded his mind. Shutting his eyes, he tried to sort through the truant memories that offered him nothing more than quick moments of time. But he found what he wanted, none the less.
He opened his mouth, and tried to speak, but found he could not. His voice came out as a thin, raspy breathe. He tried again, but the strain only caused a small squeak to emerge and nothing else. Finally he carefully formed the word, "Sam?" with silent lips
Brown Eyes' eyes brightened, and he nodded. Frodo couldn't help smiling within his mind. So he was correct. He shut his eyes, and slowly memories began drifting back to him. He remembered the shire, growing up in Brandy Hall, causing mischief with his cousins, being adopted by Cousin Bilbo. As a matter of fact, after some thought, all his memories seemed in order. But that did not explain what he was doing here. His current position and painful condition was a mystery to him, but it seemed to him that he remembered everything else.
Suddenly a new memory flashed in his mind, and this one was incomplete. He saw Pippin trying to speak to him, and himself rudely dismissing his younger cousin. Then he saw Pippin go to leave, before something he had said caused him to turn, and then slip. He watched the look of surprise and then fear quickly flash over his young cousin's face, before he vanished from view, over the side of a tall rock. He watched his cousin take a hurtling fall...because of him.
Frodo was shocked, but he knew it was true. Pippin was hurt, and it was his fault. What sort of cousin was he? What sort of hobbit was he? He was thoroughly ashamed, and his guilt rose as a couple stray tears slowly appeared at the corners of his saddened eyes. Brown Eyes....or er...Sam...looked down at him, concerned.
"Mr. Frodo? Are you alright? What's wrong?" Br...no, Sam asked gently, wiping away the stray tears with a handkerchief.
Frodo tried to speak, tried to confess his wanton crimes to Sam, to the whole world if he could and if it could help what he had done...but all he managed was an airy gasp that ripped at his throat.
Eventually, he just gave up, and slumped down into his bed of guilt, far too many questions flowing through his mind...and a strange longing for the darkness developing.
Vana E: thank you. Oh, I did try to email you to ask about that beta thing, but didn't work...twice! So I'll just ask now. Guessing that a beta is sort of like a proofreader (yeah, I'm dense:P), then I could definitely use one. especially since my niece still won't give me back my book. And my friend Linz talks like that all the time, and she also talks in elfish at times...I kind of want to, but I just never picked it up. Hell, I was barely patient enough to learn to read runes, so there's no way I'll ever be patient enough to learn elfish. Cool that you know some. Oh, and not sure about angst... not very practiced at it, but I'll try to keep it a priority. i know, hate the mary sues. Anyway, thanks again and get back to me about the beta thing, if you want. Later.
Coolio02: thank you. Sorry about the long wait. Will try to update sooner this time.
Okay, that's it. Thanks again, both of you. I gotta get going, gotta mary sue in outsiders I'm writing that I gotta update on. Getting tired of it actually. Might just kill her off so I can concentrate more on this...hmmm... anyway, cya
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Lillia