Rosellyn may turn a bit Mary-Sue-ish...I apologize if you find it to be so. Maybe I should call in the livejournal Mary Sue squad... Read on!
*Disclaimer* I own absolutely nothing. Not even the clothes on my back. They're my sister's. You want to sue me, sue her.
Light...blinding light. She was dead! Or was she? What was that thudding in her ears? It was her heartbeat! Heartbeat? But...but that meant...that meant she was alive! If she'd had the strength, she would have wept. She was so close to being free! She felt different;was that normal? She couldn't say. Would life be so cruel? Maybe she should open her eyes, see what was going on. Crud. Opening her eyes did nothing. Just blurry shapes. Slowly, they started to focus as she knew they would. Standard rule for all fantasy games/books/RPGs; if you survive the accident, your eyes will eventually focus. Worked every time. Fantasy wasn't so different from real life, sometimes. Unless you were blinded, but you'd definitely know if that were to occur.
"She's waking up! She's going to be okay!"
"Well, we don't know if she's going to be able to use that arm again."
"What? That's not good! She's the best knife we got for her age, and the best archer this side of-"
"You know, you're too modest. You're the best archer we got, hands down."
"I know, but it would sound like bragging if I pointed that out." Talking. What were they talking about? They certainly weren't talking about her. Archery? Knives? What was that all about? She was obviously hearing things. She'd never touched bows and arrows before, and the sharpest knife she'd ever used was a butter knife. But, wait. Elves were archers... then she knew what was going on. She was dreaming. The last things she thought of were Elves, so she was dreaming about Elves. No, this didn't feel like her dreams; she didn't feel like herself, she felt different, like she was a different person. This was too real. Rule number two in fantasy: when they dream during an injury, the pain is never there. It fades. Isn't that how it always works? Pain fades when you're unconscious. If she was dreaming, she would be in control. And if she was in control, she most definitely would not be in pain. But she was. Fiery pain in her arm and chest, as though someone was butchering her with red-hot knives.
"Ow..." she whimpered. What a brilliant thing to say. But that seemed all the word her lips could form. The talking stopped as if cut by a knife. Slowly her vocabulary expanded. "Pain...hurt...make it...stop, please...ow...ow...what happened? Where am I?" The talk started on again as if someone had just reinserted the plug on the television set, causing her splitting headache to get worse. But if someone could tell her what was going on, it was worth a little pain. A little pain? Who was she kidding?
"You're okay! How do you feel?" What kind of idiot question was that? She was just hit by a car! Her vision eased into focus. What she saw nearly made her pass out again. She didn't know these people! She thought she didn't know these people. Names went through her head, and she could put name with face. Tracie, Forest, Legolas, Linka and Awaren Humanblood. She was sure she had never seen these people before...yet she knew them as if she had known them since birth.
"Rosalin, are you okay?" Who was Rosalin? It was her. No, she was Delaney! Yet, part of her knew she was Rosellyn Stillwater, and her friends were Traceheart Forestwood, her twin brother Tracehelm Forestwood, and Legolas Greenleaf. Tracie, Forest, and Legolas. Linka and Awaren Humanblood, the leaders of their people, named because Awaren's mother had been human. Legolas admitted that there was no shame in that; he himself had a human mother somewhere in his line. Of course, Legolas also claimed that he had a prince in his family somewhere...how did she know that? She didn't know anyone named Legolas! Delaney didn't. But Rosellyn did. Two sets of memories battled themselves in her mind. In one, she was Delaney Freeholder, a 14 year-old girl who lived in the United States. She remembered playing the guitar for the first time, yoga classes, or the first day at Johnette Bigglesworth. In the other, she was Rosellyn Stillwater, and she was 1,472 years old, living in the forest of Mirkwood. In these memories she could remember her mother lying on the bed, dying of a mortal wound taken on the battle field, holding a bow for the first time, twirling knives skillfully for a show at one of the parties for Linka's 7,000th birthday celebration. She was--there was no other way to avoid it now--she was an Elf. Hesitantly, she tried to raise her hands. The right one went up without complaint; the left one refused to rise. When she strained, it sent a dizzying amount of pain. Her right arm was pushed gently down by the kindly looking older man. Awaren, the part of her named Rosellyn insisted.
"Rosellyn, you mustn't try to raise your arms, especially your left. Do you remember anything of what happened?"
"Hit...by..." The details slipped through her pain-numbed mind like water cupped in her hand. Finally she gave up. Maybe if someone else explained it, she would understand. "No. Tell me." A girl, a very pretty girl looked on, lovely eyes filled with worry.
"She doesn't remember? But, what if-" Awaren cut her off gently.
"That's quite normal after an injury of this magnitude, Tracie. She'll remember, in time. Now then, what's your name?" Delaney! Her mind screamed, but her traitor mouth replied:
"Rosellyn Stillwater."
"Do you know who I am?" No, she certainly did not! But again, her voice paid no heed. It was like someone else was speaking for her!
"Awaren Humanblood. That's Linka, that's Tracie, that's Forest, and that's Legolas..." her voice trailed off as she set her eyes on the last person she'd named. Legolas Greenleaf. She turned the name over in her mind. Elves, true Elves, not Keebler, Delaney knew, were supposed to be more beautiful than any human, and from the faces surrounding her she knew that it was true, but Legolas...he was handsome even for an Elf. He had pale fair hair that fell down his back, but it didn't look feminine on him. If anything, it was exactly the opposite. He was tall, slim like the blade of a sharp knife is slim, and carried himself as though he had more energy than he knew what to do with, tempered by a cat-like grace and a hunter's patience. His eyes were dark, so dark you could barely make out the pupils, and when he fixed you with an intense stare, like he did with her, it gave you shivers. Luckily for her, the stare held no malice, only worry and concentration. Rosellyn was hopelessly in love with Legolas; Delaney decided that she was too.
"Very good. That's important that you remember names and faces. Now then, I will fill you in about what happened to you, because it is vital that you know and remember. If you remember at any time during this retelling, do not hesitate to tell me. All right?" Yes, she thought, just get on with it. The sooner you tell me, the sooner I know what's going on! "Now then, I believe you and Tracie were out hunting, correct, Tracie?" If there was ever a man who took a sea voyage to step around a rock on the beach, Awaren Humanblood was it. "Tracie was up in a tree when this all took place, so maybe she will add in details I missed when you are alone after your recovery. It seems that a raiding party from the Riders of Rohan stumbled into you. Do you remember who the Riders are?" Strangely, she did. The Riders were a faction of men from a country nearby, Rohan, that sought to take over the forest, and had been pushing attempts for the past year or so. They had skipped over Lorién, even though it was closer, probably because of the Lady Galadriel, and moved right on to Mirkwood. Mirkwood? What? And who the heck was Lady Galadriel? But, somehow, she nodded and he continued. "According to Tracie, you handled yourself admirably. You lured them away from the tree she was perched in and attempted to lead them away from Wanderer's Glade. Oh, Tracie, you'll have to take over here, I'm afraid..." The girl he named as Tracie had odd coloring for an Elf of Mirkwood. She had vibrantly red hair, and enormous hazel eyes. Short, for an elf, maybe an average sized human in stature, boyishly slim, with a sweet and open face.
"You were so brave, Rose. You killed a few with Trustworthy when they attacked you and even when you were down you kicked anyone who came near Diamondsong. But, yeah, you tried to out run them, but a stray arrow hit you in the arm. The first few runners pushed you down and tried to stab you in the heart but you rolled away so they didn't go too deep, but they went deep enough, I was afraid...well, you were on the ground, lashing out with your knives when I got over my shock and realized I needed to help you. I shot arrows into them until they realized what was happening. Then they got around the base of the tree. I jumped on one and got the rest with Steelsings." She shrugged. "All except one. He got away. In truth I let him, so he could tell his master how a whole band was vanquished by two Elf-girls. There must have been thirty at least! No, I'm serious! Then when I saw you, and how badly you were hurt, I screamed for help until Antiphony came. You remember Anti, don't you? The woman who would always give us a sweet when we were little?" She remembered; Antiphony was a bewitchingly beautiful young woman. Young, in Elfin terms; only a mere 2,573 years. This was too weird. How could she remember both lives? Was Delaney's mind put in this body? The injuries were exactly the same as hers, if the methods they came by were admittedly a bit different. Her mind was reeling from what Tracie told her. She killed someone? She never harmed anyone in her life, not even Mollier! It was impossible. Impossible to Delaney, that is. Two lives inside one mind; it was insane. It was going to drive her insane. This couldn't be happening...Forest looked at her with concern.
"She doesn't look good. She looks like she's going to faint again."
"I think we've told her too much, too soon. You have a valid concern, Forest." Awaren got up and started to mix something, his back turned to her. She couldn't hide her curiosity. Legolas, heart-meltingly handsome Legolas, caught her look and grinned, causing her heart to flop.
"Don't ask, Rose. You don't want to know what's in that." She nodded as he came back with a cup of some foul smelling potion. She wrinkled her nose, but swallowed anyway. To her surprise, it actually tasted pleasant. As soon as the cup was empty, she felt pleasingly drowsy, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep. She suspected all along that it was a sleeping potion, but instead of fighting, she decided that sleep was welcome after all.
*Disclaimer* I own absolutely nothing. Not even the clothes on my back. They're my sister's. You want to sue me, sue her.
Light...blinding light. She was dead! Or was she? What was that thudding in her ears? It was her heartbeat! Heartbeat? But...but that meant...that meant she was alive! If she'd had the strength, she would have wept. She was so close to being free! She felt different;was that normal? She couldn't say. Would life be so cruel? Maybe she should open her eyes, see what was going on. Crud. Opening her eyes did nothing. Just blurry shapes. Slowly, they started to focus as she knew they would. Standard rule for all fantasy games/books/RPGs; if you survive the accident, your eyes will eventually focus. Worked every time. Fantasy wasn't so different from real life, sometimes. Unless you were blinded, but you'd definitely know if that were to occur.
"She's waking up! She's going to be okay!"
"Well, we don't know if she's going to be able to use that arm again."
"What? That's not good! She's the best knife we got for her age, and the best archer this side of-"
"You know, you're too modest. You're the best archer we got, hands down."
"I know, but it would sound like bragging if I pointed that out." Talking. What were they talking about? They certainly weren't talking about her. Archery? Knives? What was that all about? She was obviously hearing things. She'd never touched bows and arrows before, and the sharpest knife she'd ever used was a butter knife. But, wait. Elves were archers... then she knew what was going on. She was dreaming. The last things she thought of were Elves, so she was dreaming about Elves. No, this didn't feel like her dreams; she didn't feel like herself, she felt different, like she was a different person. This was too real. Rule number two in fantasy: when they dream during an injury, the pain is never there. It fades. Isn't that how it always works? Pain fades when you're unconscious. If she was dreaming, she would be in control. And if she was in control, she most definitely would not be in pain. But she was. Fiery pain in her arm and chest, as though someone was butchering her with red-hot knives.
"Ow..." she whimpered. What a brilliant thing to say. But that seemed all the word her lips could form. The talking stopped as if cut by a knife. Slowly her vocabulary expanded. "Pain...hurt...make it...stop, please...ow...ow...what happened? Where am I?" The talk started on again as if someone had just reinserted the plug on the television set, causing her splitting headache to get worse. But if someone could tell her what was going on, it was worth a little pain. A little pain? Who was she kidding?
"You're okay! How do you feel?" What kind of idiot question was that? She was just hit by a car! Her vision eased into focus. What she saw nearly made her pass out again. She didn't know these people! She thought she didn't know these people. Names went through her head, and she could put name with face. Tracie, Forest, Legolas, Linka and Awaren Humanblood. She was sure she had never seen these people before...yet she knew them as if she had known them since birth.
"Rosalin, are you okay?" Who was Rosalin? It was her. No, she was Delaney! Yet, part of her knew she was Rosellyn Stillwater, and her friends were Traceheart Forestwood, her twin brother Tracehelm Forestwood, and Legolas Greenleaf. Tracie, Forest, and Legolas. Linka and Awaren Humanblood, the leaders of their people, named because Awaren's mother had been human. Legolas admitted that there was no shame in that; he himself had a human mother somewhere in his line. Of course, Legolas also claimed that he had a prince in his family somewhere...how did she know that? She didn't know anyone named Legolas! Delaney didn't. But Rosellyn did. Two sets of memories battled themselves in her mind. In one, she was Delaney Freeholder, a 14 year-old girl who lived in the United States. She remembered playing the guitar for the first time, yoga classes, or the first day at Johnette Bigglesworth. In the other, she was Rosellyn Stillwater, and she was 1,472 years old, living in the forest of Mirkwood. In these memories she could remember her mother lying on the bed, dying of a mortal wound taken on the battle field, holding a bow for the first time, twirling knives skillfully for a show at one of the parties for Linka's 7,000th birthday celebration. She was--there was no other way to avoid it now--she was an Elf. Hesitantly, she tried to raise her hands. The right one went up without complaint; the left one refused to rise. When she strained, it sent a dizzying amount of pain. Her right arm was pushed gently down by the kindly looking older man. Awaren, the part of her named Rosellyn insisted.
"Rosellyn, you mustn't try to raise your arms, especially your left. Do you remember anything of what happened?"
"Hit...by..." The details slipped through her pain-numbed mind like water cupped in her hand. Finally she gave up. Maybe if someone else explained it, she would understand. "No. Tell me." A girl, a very pretty girl looked on, lovely eyes filled with worry.
"She doesn't remember? But, what if-" Awaren cut her off gently.
"That's quite normal after an injury of this magnitude, Tracie. She'll remember, in time. Now then, what's your name?" Delaney! Her mind screamed, but her traitor mouth replied:
"Rosellyn Stillwater."
"Do you know who I am?" No, she certainly did not! But again, her voice paid no heed. It was like someone else was speaking for her!
"Awaren Humanblood. That's Linka, that's Tracie, that's Forest, and that's Legolas..." her voice trailed off as she set her eyes on the last person she'd named. Legolas Greenleaf. She turned the name over in her mind. Elves, true Elves, not Keebler, Delaney knew, were supposed to be more beautiful than any human, and from the faces surrounding her she knew that it was true, but Legolas...he was handsome even for an Elf. He had pale fair hair that fell down his back, but it didn't look feminine on him. If anything, it was exactly the opposite. He was tall, slim like the blade of a sharp knife is slim, and carried himself as though he had more energy than he knew what to do with, tempered by a cat-like grace and a hunter's patience. His eyes were dark, so dark you could barely make out the pupils, and when he fixed you with an intense stare, like he did with her, it gave you shivers. Luckily for her, the stare held no malice, only worry and concentration. Rosellyn was hopelessly in love with Legolas; Delaney decided that she was too.
"Very good. That's important that you remember names and faces. Now then, I will fill you in about what happened to you, because it is vital that you know and remember. If you remember at any time during this retelling, do not hesitate to tell me. All right?" Yes, she thought, just get on with it. The sooner you tell me, the sooner I know what's going on! "Now then, I believe you and Tracie were out hunting, correct, Tracie?" If there was ever a man who took a sea voyage to step around a rock on the beach, Awaren Humanblood was it. "Tracie was up in a tree when this all took place, so maybe she will add in details I missed when you are alone after your recovery. It seems that a raiding party from the Riders of Rohan stumbled into you. Do you remember who the Riders are?" Strangely, she did. The Riders were a faction of men from a country nearby, Rohan, that sought to take over the forest, and had been pushing attempts for the past year or so. They had skipped over Lorién, even though it was closer, probably because of the Lady Galadriel, and moved right on to Mirkwood. Mirkwood? What? And who the heck was Lady Galadriel? But, somehow, she nodded and he continued. "According to Tracie, you handled yourself admirably. You lured them away from the tree she was perched in and attempted to lead them away from Wanderer's Glade. Oh, Tracie, you'll have to take over here, I'm afraid..." The girl he named as Tracie had odd coloring for an Elf of Mirkwood. She had vibrantly red hair, and enormous hazel eyes. Short, for an elf, maybe an average sized human in stature, boyishly slim, with a sweet and open face.
"You were so brave, Rose. You killed a few with Trustworthy when they attacked you and even when you were down you kicked anyone who came near Diamondsong. But, yeah, you tried to out run them, but a stray arrow hit you in the arm. The first few runners pushed you down and tried to stab you in the heart but you rolled away so they didn't go too deep, but they went deep enough, I was afraid...well, you were on the ground, lashing out with your knives when I got over my shock and realized I needed to help you. I shot arrows into them until they realized what was happening. Then they got around the base of the tree. I jumped on one and got the rest with Steelsings." She shrugged. "All except one. He got away. In truth I let him, so he could tell his master how a whole band was vanquished by two Elf-girls. There must have been thirty at least! No, I'm serious! Then when I saw you, and how badly you were hurt, I screamed for help until Antiphony came. You remember Anti, don't you? The woman who would always give us a sweet when we were little?" She remembered; Antiphony was a bewitchingly beautiful young woman. Young, in Elfin terms; only a mere 2,573 years. This was too weird. How could she remember both lives? Was Delaney's mind put in this body? The injuries were exactly the same as hers, if the methods they came by were admittedly a bit different. Her mind was reeling from what Tracie told her. She killed someone? She never harmed anyone in her life, not even Mollier! It was impossible. Impossible to Delaney, that is. Two lives inside one mind; it was insane. It was going to drive her insane. This couldn't be happening...Forest looked at her with concern.
"She doesn't look good. She looks like she's going to faint again."
"I think we've told her too much, too soon. You have a valid concern, Forest." Awaren got up and started to mix something, his back turned to her. She couldn't hide her curiosity. Legolas, heart-meltingly handsome Legolas, caught her look and grinned, causing her heart to flop.
"Don't ask, Rose. You don't want to know what's in that." She nodded as he came back with a cup of some foul smelling potion. She wrinkled her nose, but swallowed anyway. To her surprise, it actually tasted pleasant. As soon as the cup was empty, she felt pleasingly drowsy, and drifted off into a peaceful sleep. She suspected all along that it was a sleeping potion, but instead of fighting, she decided that sleep was welcome after all.