*Disclaimer* I am dirt poor. If you sue me, all you will get is a handful of dirt. Lovely for daisies, though...
Chapter 4- Rosellyn's World
When she woke up, she felt refreshed and a lot calmer. Having two lives in her head was still bothering her, but Rosellyn was taking over, and she was more excepting of the out-of-the-ordinary than Delaney was. Soon, Delaney didn't have any voice. Rosellyn was completely in control of her mind, and the strange memories only bothered her occasionally. Legolas and Tracie were standing by her bed, and seemed overjoyed to see her awake.
"Are you feeling any better?"
"Immensely," she admitted. Should she tell them about the strange memories? About the girl with the other set of memories? Delaney? No, not in front of Legolas. She didn't know what she would do if he thought she was going insane. Tracie looked relieved.
"That's good. How does your arm feel? Think you'll be able to twirl steel again?" She smiled, and flexed the fingers in her right hand with a practiced, liquid motion as though her mother's knife, Diamondsong, was secured in her palm.
"I'll manage. If not with both hands again, I still got one."
"Aw, but what about archery? You need two hands for that, and if you can't bend a bow, I'll have no competition. That's no fun." complained Legolas. She grinned wryly.
"You flatter me. I was never competition to you. You can out shoot anyone in Mirkwood, and you know it." That famous grin came over his face that said he did know.
"You're close, okay? You know it, I know it, Awaren knows it. Tracie knows it but it would be like pulling teeth to get her to say it." Tracie fixed him with a you-must-be-joking,-I'm-going-to-kill-you look.
"You better not be pulling out any teeth. I'm supposed to sing tomorrow at the Dawn Praises." He fixed her with his grin; you could almost see what was going on in her mind. Rosellyn was not by any means the only Elf who was taken with Legolas.
"Well, there's one thing you can beat me in. My voice sounds like a stepped-on frog. And that's insulting the frog. And the boot when it comes down to it." Tracie and Rosellyn knew when to stop; Legolas had a good tenor voice, and Tracie's twin brother, Forest, had an excellent bass voice. Legolas and Forest had been asked countless times to sing during the Praises. When Tracie joined her soprano voice with them, they were unequaled. Rosellyn was the only one among them that couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. Legolas extended his hand. "Here, lets see if you can get up." She excepted, priding herself on being able to hide what holding his hand did to her. With a gentle heave (unlike most Elves his age, Legolas was more than aware of his own strength.), he pulled her on her feet. She sucked in her breath against the increase of pain in her chest. When she stood up straight, it lessened a little bit. Tracie and Legolas looked on worriedly.
"So...how is it? Do you feel okay?" She smiled.
"Well, you know how the teachers are always on our case about posture?"
"Yes?"
"Well, all they have to do is stab them in the chest. If I bend over even a little bit it hurts like all get out." They laughed, real, relieved laughter. It was good to know she still had her humor. Even if all deserted her, she would still be able to make a crack about it. Not a wonderful talent, but it would do. An insisting push at the back of her mind, this girl Delaney, wanted to see what she looked like. "Is there a mirror around here?" Tracie pointed to a vanity, where Awaren had mixed the sleeping draught. She hobbled over, waving away offers of help from her friends, even if she did want Legolas's arm around her. She gazed at her reflection, and with a surge of mental strength, Delaney took over her mind.
Delaney was astounded. Rosellyn was...beautiful. Her face-it was her face!-but different. She couldn't point out anything exactly that had been altered, but on the whole, the entire effect was...stunning. Perhaps the lack of acne. Her hair, it was the exact shade and sheen of her hair, but it was long, hanging disheveled down her back. And if this wasn't delight enough, her eyes weren't a dull, boring green anymore, but a fiery shade of emerald. Rosellyn wasn't short, or fat like she, Delaney was. It was the opposite; Rosellyn was tall and willowy, slender and lovely. And...this was what she'd truly been hoping for. She had pointy ears.
She could feel Rosellyn, fighting for possession of her body again, but Delaney wasn't ready to give it up so soon. Rosellyn was everything Delaney wished that she could be. Tall, graceful, long hair... She wasn't completely sure she wasn't dreaming now. She could feel a nagging sensation as she was wondering if she would ever be able to use the arm again. Delaney took this as that Rosellyn was wondering what the injuries looked like and gazed down at the wounds, checking them out. Her left arm was lightly bound with clean linen bandages, and the pain was only a slight throb, nothing distracting. Her chest was completely swathed in more bandages, so many that a shirt was unnecessary. Gingerly, she touched where the wounds were, and whistled at the number of them.
"Wow, when they set out to kill someone, they really try to do the job right, don't they? What's that, four? Five?"
"Five counting the shallow one by your shoulder, but that's not a direct stab..."
"I won't quibble. Five it is. Where's Trustworthy and Diamondsong?" Again, the weird sensation of this Rosellyn chick speaking through her. Tracie produced two keen-edged Elf knives, one hers and the other the one her mother had given to her on her deathbed. Both were fine knives, but her mother's was the pinnacle of well-made. Ripply bright steel, leather bound grips, the pommel stone of Trustworthy a well-polished blue stone. Trustworthy had designs in the hilt picked out in pinhead-sized rubies; Diamondsong had no pommel, but the hilt was decorated in, what else, diamonds. She flexed her fingers experimentally, gently bending her left arm. No good; she would only use her right. Delaney slid back into the recesses of her mind and allowing Rosellyn to do her stuff.
And do it she did. Easily, almost lazily, the knife flashed in her right hand, the bright steel making shapes in the air, dancing seemingly of its own will. At the end, she tossed it up and watched with satisfaction as it lay there, tip buried in the wooden floor, blade quivering. Forest walked in with an arm load of fresh linen for bandages right as the exhibition ended.
"Are you sure you should be up? What if the wounds re-open?"
"Well, that would be my rotten luck, I guess." She caught the look on Forest's face as she said this and added, "Oh, calm down, Forest. The humans have yet to forge a blade that could lay a decent Elf low. Look at me, I hardly qualify as decent and I'm fine!" Legolas laughed at this remark.
"If you don't qualify as decent, Rose, then I've yet to see a decent Elf! Come on then, Forest, let's go find Awaren if you're so concerned." Forest grudgingly agreed, though not without trying to suggest that she rest here while they went and searched. All he got for an answer was a deserted room.
A/N: Pretty soon, Rosellyn and Delaney (pronounced DEL-uh-nee) will begin to converse with each other. Since italics don't always work, I've devised a little system for it. Whoever is in charge of the body will have their thoughts in between the --. Whoever isn't in charge will have their thoughts in between the ~~. This should make things easier. Read on!
Chapter 4- Rosellyn's World
When she woke up, she felt refreshed and a lot calmer. Having two lives in her head was still bothering her, but Rosellyn was taking over, and she was more excepting of the out-of-the-ordinary than Delaney was. Soon, Delaney didn't have any voice. Rosellyn was completely in control of her mind, and the strange memories only bothered her occasionally. Legolas and Tracie were standing by her bed, and seemed overjoyed to see her awake.
"Are you feeling any better?"
"Immensely," she admitted. Should she tell them about the strange memories? About the girl with the other set of memories? Delaney? No, not in front of Legolas. She didn't know what she would do if he thought she was going insane. Tracie looked relieved.
"That's good. How does your arm feel? Think you'll be able to twirl steel again?" She smiled, and flexed the fingers in her right hand with a practiced, liquid motion as though her mother's knife, Diamondsong, was secured in her palm.
"I'll manage. If not with both hands again, I still got one."
"Aw, but what about archery? You need two hands for that, and if you can't bend a bow, I'll have no competition. That's no fun." complained Legolas. She grinned wryly.
"You flatter me. I was never competition to you. You can out shoot anyone in Mirkwood, and you know it." That famous grin came over his face that said he did know.
"You're close, okay? You know it, I know it, Awaren knows it. Tracie knows it but it would be like pulling teeth to get her to say it." Tracie fixed him with a you-must-be-joking,-I'm-going-to-kill-you look.
"You better not be pulling out any teeth. I'm supposed to sing tomorrow at the Dawn Praises." He fixed her with his grin; you could almost see what was going on in her mind. Rosellyn was not by any means the only Elf who was taken with Legolas.
"Well, there's one thing you can beat me in. My voice sounds like a stepped-on frog. And that's insulting the frog. And the boot when it comes down to it." Tracie and Rosellyn knew when to stop; Legolas had a good tenor voice, and Tracie's twin brother, Forest, had an excellent bass voice. Legolas and Forest had been asked countless times to sing during the Praises. When Tracie joined her soprano voice with them, they were unequaled. Rosellyn was the only one among them that couldn't carry a tune in a bucket. Legolas extended his hand. "Here, lets see if you can get up." She excepted, priding herself on being able to hide what holding his hand did to her. With a gentle heave (unlike most Elves his age, Legolas was more than aware of his own strength.), he pulled her on her feet. She sucked in her breath against the increase of pain in her chest. When she stood up straight, it lessened a little bit. Tracie and Legolas looked on worriedly.
"So...how is it? Do you feel okay?" She smiled.
"Well, you know how the teachers are always on our case about posture?"
"Yes?"
"Well, all they have to do is stab them in the chest. If I bend over even a little bit it hurts like all get out." They laughed, real, relieved laughter. It was good to know she still had her humor. Even if all deserted her, she would still be able to make a crack about it. Not a wonderful talent, but it would do. An insisting push at the back of her mind, this girl Delaney, wanted to see what she looked like. "Is there a mirror around here?" Tracie pointed to a vanity, where Awaren had mixed the sleeping draught. She hobbled over, waving away offers of help from her friends, even if she did want Legolas's arm around her. She gazed at her reflection, and with a surge of mental strength, Delaney took over her mind.
Delaney was astounded. Rosellyn was...beautiful. Her face-it was her face!-but different. She couldn't point out anything exactly that had been altered, but on the whole, the entire effect was...stunning. Perhaps the lack of acne. Her hair, it was the exact shade and sheen of her hair, but it was long, hanging disheveled down her back. And if this wasn't delight enough, her eyes weren't a dull, boring green anymore, but a fiery shade of emerald. Rosellyn wasn't short, or fat like she, Delaney was. It was the opposite; Rosellyn was tall and willowy, slender and lovely. And...this was what she'd truly been hoping for. She had pointy ears.
She could feel Rosellyn, fighting for possession of her body again, but Delaney wasn't ready to give it up so soon. Rosellyn was everything Delaney wished that she could be. Tall, graceful, long hair... She wasn't completely sure she wasn't dreaming now. She could feel a nagging sensation as she was wondering if she would ever be able to use the arm again. Delaney took this as that Rosellyn was wondering what the injuries looked like and gazed down at the wounds, checking them out. Her left arm was lightly bound with clean linen bandages, and the pain was only a slight throb, nothing distracting. Her chest was completely swathed in more bandages, so many that a shirt was unnecessary. Gingerly, she touched where the wounds were, and whistled at the number of them.
"Wow, when they set out to kill someone, they really try to do the job right, don't they? What's that, four? Five?"
"Five counting the shallow one by your shoulder, but that's not a direct stab..."
"I won't quibble. Five it is. Where's Trustworthy and Diamondsong?" Again, the weird sensation of this Rosellyn chick speaking through her. Tracie produced two keen-edged Elf knives, one hers and the other the one her mother had given to her on her deathbed. Both were fine knives, but her mother's was the pinnacle of well-made. Ripply bright steel, leather bound grips, the pommel stone of Trustworthy a well-polished blue stone. Trustworthy had designs in the hilt picked out in pinhead-sized rubies; Diamondsong had no pommel, but the hilt was decorated in, what else, diamonds. She flexed her fingers experimentally, gently bending her left arm. No good; she would only use her right. Delaney slid back into the recesses of her mind and allowing Rosellyn to do her stuff.
And do it she did. Easily, almost lazily, the knife flashed in her right hand, the bright steel making shapes in the air, dancing seemingly of its own will. At the end, she tossed it up and watched with satisfaction as it lay there, tip buried in the wooden floor, blade quivering. Forest walked in with an arm load of fresh linen for bandages right as the exhibition ended.
"Are you sure you should be up? What if the wounds re-open?"
"Well, that would be my rotten luck, I guess." She caught the look on Forest's face as she said this and added, "Oh, calm down, Forest. The humans have yet to forge a blade that could lay a decent Elf low. Look at me, I hardly qualify as decent and I'm fine!" Legolas laughed at this remark.
"If you don't qualify as decent, Rose, then I've yet to see a decent Elf! Come on then, Forest, let's go find Awaren if you're so concerned." Forest grudgingly agreed, though not without trying to suggest that she rest here while they went and searched. All he got for an answer was a deserted room.
A/N: Pretty soon, Rosellyn and Delaney (pronounced DEL-uh-nee) will begin to converse with each other. Since italics don't always work, I've devised a little system for it. Whoever is in charge of the body will have their thoughts in between the --. Whoever isn't in charge will have their thoughts in between the ~~. This should make things easier. Read on!